Latest Posts by whydoyoucare866 - Page 6

help i really have a problem of naming my stories after songs 😭😭 (pls dont search up the sakus fic, its the cringiest thing youll ever read)

help me, the only reason why i haven’t posted a second chapter to my jason fic is bc idk why i always have to name my stories after songs, like the stories i have written in wattpad all have a song as a title AND I CANT FUCKING THINK OF ANY SONG WHICH I CAN BASE THE CHAPTER OFF😭 like i have a general idea of what to do with the fic but i have no idea of what to write in this chapter and which song i could base it off from😭

Jason Todd x Reader

Part 2 to this.

Thanks for the support guys, sending lots of love <3

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

It's been 2 years or so since you moved out of Gotham. Well. Not moved out moved out. You couldn't leave. Gotham was your home. And even with those painful memories of Jason demanding you to leave, he's still the same person who you shared those long-lasting kisses with, who texted you every 5 minutes while he was on patrol to make sure you were safe at home, who was able to give you the first, real experience of love and devotion for the first time in your life.

But now you feel numb. Every time you caught a glimpse of your reflection from puddles on the ground or the shine of a window, you saw that gut-wrenching, eerie grin of the Joker. The grin of your father who once killed your ex-boyfriend and your passionate love.

But you broke Jason's trust. Maybe if you told him sooner, he wouldn't have cast you out. Maybe he would've sat down for a second and realised you aren't the same person as your father.

Staying at the next town over beside Gotham wasn't a bad idea, however. You were able to reflect on yourself, realising that you had no power over your father, and there was physically nothing you could've done to save Robin. But you've repeated in your head over and over that you are not the Joker. You weren't the ones who committed those crimes. You weren't the ones who killed so many innocent people. The only guilt that would eat at you was that you were selfish and a coward to stand up to the Joker and at least attempt to save someone. Bht you didn't. And you hoped that if someone knew your name, who knew your story, that they'd understand. That they'd be scared, too.

You were able to buy a run down... apartment?..house? Whatever it was, it was, unfortunately, all you could've afforded at the moment. And worse, it reminded you too much of your room in the warehouse. Minus the dried blood. But it had a horrible stench of weed, which took you forever to get rid of.

Unlike the warehouse, however, you were at least able to make it a little more homey. You didn't have any furniture, but you did have a cleaner mattress plus bed sheets, knick knacks scattered across the floors, a fake plant, or two on the floor beside you bed. And lastly, though you really should move on, a framed picture of you and Jason. You put this directly beside your bed, where it would be the first thing you see in the morning.

You know that what Jason told you was cruel. You could never forget it. But you had the decency to understand him. He dated someone he trusted. And unfortunately that someone just happened to be the daughter of his murderer. Of course, he'd think you're working with the Joker. Especially if that camera footage showed that you showed no effort to help Robin.

So, what the hell have you been doing when you went away? Well, as said, you couldn't stay out of Gotham for very long. You always went in and out, just for the nostalgia. Just because you had bad memories in Gotham didn't mean you didn't have good ones either. You just assumed that since your leave, you've been fired from Bat Burgers, so you decided to avoid that vicinity for now.

The real reason, though, was the soup kitchen. You could never step foot inside ever again, in fear that Jason would still be volunteering there, and you wouldn't want him to have a breakdown. So you just anonymously dropped off bags of produce of whatever you could afford during the day and quickly departed without being seen. But you missed the kids. Yeah, Jason made you feel loved romantically, but those kids, they felt like family. And how you missed diane so much, too. She was like a mother to you.

It pained you that you couldn't go see the kids anymore, but as you heard them laugh and yell just from the other side of the entrance, you smiled. You always took quick glimpses of them, and some of them grew taller. Some of them formed freckles on their faces. But your smile would slightly falter when they mention how much they missed you. And by that time, you'd just drop off the bag and make your way back home.

You weren't proud of it, but when you found yourself completely broke, you decided, fuck it, and started nicking a things from grocery stores, just for you to survive. And in moments like them, you think to yourself... am I slowly becoming like...him? You shake your head, thinking that the Joker had committed the most heinous, unforgivable crimes, while vigilantes wouldn't really care for petty theft, and the cops wouldn't give two shits anyway, especially if it's only stores running on the poor side of Gotham being robbed.

God, how you hated the police system. They'd only help when the richies were being mugged. Even Batman neglected the poor. Sometimes, you'd smile when you'd see Jason helping the kids of Crime Alley. The memory warmed your heart. Too bad you couldn't make more memories similar to those ones.

You rushed your quick drop off of fruits and veggies to the soup kitchen. It wasn't much. You think an empolyee spotted you trying to conceal a small box of strawberries in your jacket.

You felt some familiarity when you turned to make a run for it when you ran into somethi- someone.

"oW- literally what the fuck-" You hiss, grabbing onto your scrunched up face, not noticing the person you walked into. "Watch where you're going, nit-" You looked up to glare at the person, but oh, how you could never forget those gorgeous green eyes. Those green eyes you fell too far in love with. The green eyes that would sparkle when its owner would rant about the new chapter he was reading in The Catcher in the Rye. The ones that used to look at you so lovingly. But now, it is replaced with burning resentment.

"You're the one not watching where they're going."

What a familiar setting. But instead of the joking tone of Jason correcting that you're the one not watching their step, he means it now. As if he was some stranger to you, annoyed that some rando foolishly walked into him and tried to blame him.

And suddenly, you're back at the Batcave. Suddenly, you're back on your knees, looking up at the hurt, screaming man who towered over you. Suddenly, you hear once more if I ever see you again, I'll end you.

You don't reply to his spiteful response. But you notice your breathing getting heavy. You try to make a run for it past him, but what he says next makes you stop.

"You're selfish for coming here," he grumbles, barely audible, but you hear it. You hear it so clearly. And it pisses you off. What the hell does that mean?

"I get you hurting me because I was Robin. Because I'm close to Batman. But coming here to hurt these kids?"

You turn to him, disbelief on your face. "Excuse me?" You spit.

"These kids did nothing wrong. So leave them alone. Leave Diane alone. Leave Gotham." He says, surprisingly pretty calm.

You already feel the tears brim your eyes. "Fuck you," you say quietly, choking out a sarcastic laugh as you turned to walk away. But before you can leave his line of sight, you turn to face him once more. "I didn't do shit, okay?! I made a mistake, but I didn't. Do. Shit,"you claimed as you walk away in a fast pace. And this makes Jason fume in anger. Yes, you did. You lied to him. He told you his secrets. You were about to give him up back to the Joker. You put his family that he worked so hard and long to make amends in jeopardy. Right?

Jason follows after you in anger, pulling you through a narrow alleyway. Luckily, the neighbourhood was quiet, and no one was around to see this private situation.

"Don't talk to me like you did nothing wrong," Jason hisses. And you yank yourself away from his grip.

"You never told me you were Arkham Knight. Why do I owe you who I was?!" You snarl at him.

"But I did!" He yells back. "At least I eventually told you because you were always nagging that I was out late! And you didn't even return the favour by telling me you're the daughter of someone I hate the most! You didn't commit any of the same crimes he did? Fine. But you're still an accessory. You stood there watching him torture me. And I bet you stood there with every other victim that he killed, feeling absolutely no remorse. That makes you just as disgusting as him."

By this time, tears were already rolling down your cheeks. Your cheeks burned red, and you could feel a headache forming.

"And the worst part," Jason continues quietly. "I still can't get you out of my head. A stupid itch at the back of my mind saying that I still love you," he says in shame.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. What the fuck? No. No, why the fuck would he say that. That's selfish of him.

"Fuck you!" You yell. "I'm sorry, Jason. I'm so fucking sorry, but I couldn't do anything! You saw it yourself! I was a kid, I couldn't do anything! I was scared! And I did NOT watch him torture you- I wasn't even aware you were there until he killed you! I didn't even remember it was you when I first met you!"

"BULLSHIT"

"IT'S NOT FUCKING BULLSHIT," you cried, panting, your adrenaline dying down. You rake your hair back, tangled between your fingers as your tears begin to dry up.

"I'm sorry, Jason," you sighed. "I really am, I- I'm sorry I couldn't save you. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was but.. but not telling you was protecting you! The fewer people who knew who I was, the safer everyone would be, especially after you told me that you're Red Hood..." You took a breath. "I spent my whole childhood believing my dad when he told me that no one could love me. But then I met you. You taught me how to love and- and how to be loved! And I fucked this up, and I'm sorry. But I'm too tired to keep arguing. I finally accepted that I'm not the same person as my father and- and I'm not going to let you take that away from me because it's the only thing I have left.."

Jason stares down at you. You have no idea what's going through your head, and right now, you don't have the energy to find out what it is. So, you slightly shake your head in defeat and start to wall out of the cramped alley.

"Oh," you say before leaving. "And for your information, I already left gotham. Just stopping for a visit," you mutter before finally leaving Hason on his own.

He shouldn't believe you. How can he trust you?

You arrived back at your house. Your body went limp, laying on the mattress as a final tear soaked through your pillow.

You absolutely hate how you know that you still love Jason Todd. He was the first person to ever help you what love truly felt like but also showed you how fast such a strong bond can crumble in a few minutes.

As Jason is remained to be alone in the alley, he thinks to himself. It's crazy. You've been raised by the Joker. The Joker. How are you raised by such an abomination but still be the most angelic, beautiful person to cross the planet.

He walks out of the alley and goes towards the soup kitchen where he'd start his volunteer work. Before he walks in, he notices the small bag that you left behind. He picks it up and opens it to see fruits and vegetables inside. He shrugs, not trying to think so much about it and heads inside.

As soon as he steps in, he's greeted by the kids, and his gave brightens in delight. But he sees some of the expressions falter.

"Where's Y/n?" One of them asks. "You two are always together... we haven't seen her for a long, long, loooong time," they frown.

Jason was about to awkwardly answer when Diane came up to him. "Jason, my dear boy! How was your rest, honey?" She asks. Ever since he found out you were the Joker's daughter, he couldn't work, he couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. He didn't have the energy of volunteering, so he rang up Diane saying that he wasn't in the best spirits, in which she completely understood, saying that you would be around to help anyway. He was about to answer to say that he wasn't so sure about that, but Diane hung up, telling him to get a good rest, and that she'll see him soon.

Jason nods and sends her a sweet smile. "Yeah, thanks. Had a lot in my hands at the time," he explains, but Diane shakes her head.

"Don't even worry, sweetie. It's been calm the past few days," she says, looking down at Jason's hands, and a sad look reaches her eyes. "Is that from Y/n? She always left a bag of food outside, thinking she's slick. Tsk, foolish girl," she jokes. "She hasn't been around in a while. You two are dating, no? What happened? Of course, it's not my place to know. But I'm here if you need to talk, sweetheart," she says, placing a comforting hand to his cheek before walking back to the kitchen.

A little girl tugs on Jason's jacket.

"Jay-jay?" She calls out as Jason bends down to her eye level. "Is, N/n okay?" She asks, worry in her face. Jason attempts to send her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure she's fine," he responds. "She's a big girl, like you. I'll check up on her to make sure she's okay, if that'll make you feel better," he offers.

"You promise?" She asks, holding her tiny pinky out.

Jason sighs. "I promise," he says, intertwining his larger pinky around hers.

Unfortunately for Jason, he never breaks a pinky promise to the kids. And he would never lie to them. So, on Jason's next scheduled patrol, he'll ditch and find you to make sure you're safe. That's it. Nothing else. He doesn't need to speak to you. Just a quick glance to see if you're not doing anything stupid.

Wait.

God fucking damn it.

You told Jason you already left Gotham. How the hell was he supposed to find you??

Shit, right. Diane said you always leave bags of food outside their door. So you couldn't have lived far, right?

Okay, he'll do a quick sweep of the ourskirts of Gotham, then he'll check the edge of the next town over.

It's been a long, tiring night, to say the least. He started searching the outskirts of Gotham around 6 pm and started his search of the next town from 1am.

He was about to give up his search when he heard a man yelling. He looks down to see a figure running out of a 24 hour convenient store as a man in a uniform yells after you. Jason rolls his eyes, hopping down to the roof to stop you.

You run pretty far, but you look back to see if the store owner was chasing you. You smile to see that you weren't being followed, but as you face back forward, your head hits against an extremely hard, metalic surface.

"Fuck! No- why!" You yell, pressing a palm to to your forhead, where the impact was laid. And low and behild, you see the infamous Red Hood standing in front of you.

"You know I'm always not looking where I'm going! Can you at least have the decency not to be in my way!" You hiss, swerving past him. "Besides, I don't want to speak to you," you mutter, heading home, which wasn't that far.

"I'm not here to talk. Anna just wanted me to check if you're safe." He claims as you scoff.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" You sarcastically say, grabbing the keys for your door. Jason inspects your house.

"This is where you live?" He blurts out with clear concern.

"What of it," you mumble, stepping in. Neither of you really commented on the fact that Jason let's himself in, continuing to critique your humble abode.

"There's mould and cracks everywhere," Jason says, looking around.

"Great observation, sherlock. Guess what? I don't care. It's a roof over my head, and it's a 10 times upgrade compared to the warehouse. At least there isn't dried blood everywhere," you say.

"What? You didn't have a proper room?"

"Joker wasn't really a 'world's greatest dad mug' kind of guy." You say, laying on the mattress, keeping one leg bent upwards as the other lays flat. One arm is tucked under your head as the other is laid over your eyes.

Jason wanders around the run-down bulding, looking at your belongings scattered on the floor, which used to sit on the shelves and windowsill of his much more comfortable apartment.

But a shimmer catches the corner of his eyes. He sees a frame, the picture turned away from him, directly beside where your head lies.

He cautiously walks towards you, taking a peek of the picture. And he could already tell, by the smiling faces and puckered lips of the photo, that it was his favourite picture of the two of you. He had a copy of the photo stuck in his room somewhere in his apartment.

And the guilt slowly eats at him.

"I'm sorry," Jason quietly says.

"For what?" You mutter, obvious that you're exhausted.

"Everything I said." He replies, sitting on the floor beside you. "For telling you to leave Gotham, thinking you were anything like the Joker... saying I'd kill you if I saw you again.. I didn't mean it," he says, his voice getting raspier by the second. "It was horrible of me to say."

"It's whatever, Jay... Jason," you reply, shifting to turn away from him, your back facing him. "I'd probably think the same if I were you."

His heart sunk.

"I should've believed you," he says, his voice raising a little. All he needs is for you to say you forgive him for saying all that shit. Because of him, you think so lowly of yourself, and that you love in such a horrible state, where instead the two of you could be cosy, wrapped in softer blankets in his bed in what ysed to be your shared apartment. He doesn't think he can take it if you think so harshly of yourself.

"But you didn't. And... and that's okay. I mean.." You try to hide your sniffle by burying your face into your pillow, but you aren't as discreet as you think as Jason obviously catches you. "I don't think anyone in this world would trust the daughter of a psycho," you try to joke, sending a weak, pathetic laugh.

"But you proved to me so many times that you aren't him. And I completely ignored all those times and started labelling you for someone you're not! How are you not mad- how are you not yelling at me?" Jason says, almost in a desperate whine. He needs some sort of emotional reaction from you. But you look so... dead.

You sigh as you sit up, avoiding eye contact. "Because you were right, Jason. You had every right not to trust me. I broke your trust by not telling you- I couldn't even save you."

Jason shakes his head vigorously. "No- No, no, no. Sweetheart, no," he didn't mean for the nickname to slip out, but no one mentions it. He reaches for your hands, which fit so perfectly in his larger ones. He held your hands in his grasp, pulling them to his chest, making sure you're looking at him.

"I was wrong- It wasn't your responsibility to save me. You were a kid- we were both kids! There was nothing we could've done. We were both kids dragged into Batman and Joker's stupid game of theirs! This isn't either of our faults! And you didn't tell me you were Joker's daughter... and that's okay. I'm sorry it took so long for me to understand why you didn't tell me. The Joker is wrong, Y/n. You can be loved... You are loved. Because I love you so much that it hurts," he admits, brushing strands of your hair away from your face so that he can look into your eyes. And you can look back into his. His gorgeous green eyes that can finally see love again. "And I understand if you don't lo-"

"I love you so much, Jay," you sniffle, smiling at him. Jason's eyes soften as he smiles, his head leabing forward and his lips resting on your forhead. "I'm sorry," you say, and Jason just shushes you, but you continue. "And I forgive you for what you said to me," you quietly say, shifting to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I forgive you, too, my love," Jason replies, his hand reaching up to softly caress your cheek. "I'll stay the night. Okay? Then tomorrow, first thing, you pack your stuff and move back in with me, okay?"

You smile as you nod, your tears finally withering away as you lie down in your bed, watching Jason strip off his heavy armour, laying in with you in just his tactical pants and compression shirt on. He wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, and suddenly, you feel safe again. You feel warm again.

You feel loved again.

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I'm so sorry if this is ass 😭. I really wanted this finished, and it's like 2am. But i really hope you'd still enjoy!! 🙏🙏

Taglist 🏷: @tyrone200 @pank0w @lorosette @havlindzk @achromaticerebus @demonicparalysis @fairyeoll

sorry if you requested part 2 and was not tagged, maybe because of mention priv settings? nonetheless, i hope you like it!

fav youtubers <3

Santa smelled like cigarettes

aren’t promises meant to be broken?

at 17 sirius promised to always be there for you whenever you need him. now 3 years after your break up, sirius has yet to break this promise.

tags: sirius black x f!reader,, magical nuisances,, exes to friends to lovers,, hurt and comfort,, fluff,, angst,, slytherins + pandora,, no voldy

a/n: took me an embarrassing amount of time to finish but i’m kinda soft for this fic ngl

people never stay friends with their exes. even with the promises of being one when breaking up. most find it, understandably, too awkward to continue any sort of relationship with them.

you would have been one of those people, at least you think so. but certain circumstances have deemed this preference a futile thought.

“i can’t believe you got me here to clean your bathroom.” sirius glared, peeling off the rubber gloves off his hands and slumping down on the breakfast nook.

“someone had to do it.” you shrugged, “it wouldn’t be the first time,” you smiled, vanishing the gloves and cleaning the table too. before placing a plate in front of him filled with sausages, toast and beans.

“that’s the fucked up part! it isn’t even my first time doing this.” he groans, grabbing a fork that you immediately slapped away.

“wash your hands first, you animal.”

he whines a protest but gets up anyway, rubbing his slapped hands as he does so—pouting because he’s dramatic like that.

“aren’t you going to eat with me?” he asks, his back turned to you as he washes his hands.

you were almost going to say yes, out of habit, having done so numerous times before. but remembered belatedly, the date set up by regulus with one of his work colleagues. a proper fit to you, he said. “no, i’m meeting somebody for dinner later.”

he closes the tap, turning to you again. “dinner? with who?”

you clicked your tongue at the dripping mess he’s making on the floor. grabbing paper towels and tossing it to him to wipe it himself. “some bloke from regulus’ work.”

“regulus? another date then?”

you nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the idea of talking about dates your ex’s brother set you up with.

he frowned. going back to the table and grabbing the fork to start eating the warm food. “i see,”

and that was, thankfully, the end of that.

you didn’t really want to delve into your dating life with anyone, much less your ex-boyfriend of all people—no matter how many times he cleans your bathroom. it was already morbidly pathetic, how your friends seem to think you needed help finding someone new and to move on with.

but in your defence, it is rather difficult finding someone who would be okay with your, er, arrangement with your ex.

it is all sirius’ fault, really, but what isn’t? accidentally making a magically-binding promise to you, seems just like the type of thing he would do. and he has.

ever since he made that promise at 17 when you’ve just started dating, sirius has been showing up in your life, ready to help you with anything you need. you thought of this is in a more figurative sense, but no. that was too simple.

instead, whenever you need something. maybe something as simple as scratching your back, to partaking in a monthly bathroom cleaning, sirius would just appear out of thin air into your house, or wherever you need him, and he would be required to do it else he wouldn’t be able to leave.

when you were dating, this was something you both enjoyed, sometimes even looked forward to. using it as an excuse to latch unto each other the whole day. but now, having been spilt for how many years now (3 but who’s counting?) you can imagine how this magic promise has become a nuisance in your everyday life.

you tried resisting it, of course. though the power of will and mental fortitude can only do so much when you can’t reach the top shelves of your kitchen. forget about avoiding your ex, when he can just pop in whenever, wherever, when you get so much as a paper cut. you can see how the novelty of the situation can run its course. so much so, you sort of just learn how to deal with it instead of fighting it.

you’ve learned to use this to your advantage, of course, making him do chores around the house, makes him a great house elf without the moral issues of owning one.

he was also quite reluctant, when you both broke up, but that was to be expected. he had tried moving away to france, thinking the distance might prevent him from showing up. but that only made it difficult to explain to the travel officers how he can exit the country without violating travel wizarding laws.

regardless of the reluctant acceptance of such peculiar arrangement, you still have that hope you can somehow reverse it.

this particular hope always trampled by your friends’ insistence to utilize your situation to your extreme satisfaction.

“i don’t understand why you would want to remove it, to be honest.” dorcas frowned flipping through the pages of magical vows and contracts, vol.2. “i mean if i had someone doing things for me all day long, i certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“are you joking? why would anyone want to stay bound to their ex?”

she looked over to you, tone playfully mocking, but mocking regardless. “you mean an ex who does everything you need him to?”

“well, how would you feel if lily was always around you doing stuff for you?”

“oh please, if lily was bound to me, cleaning my bathroom wouldn’t be the only thing she would be doing.”

you grimace, “spare me the details, i beg of you.”

“so you wouldn’t like it if you and sirius partook… in certain late night activities?” she hummed.

you sputter out scandalized gasps, face feeling gruesomely warm, “don’t be disgusting! i have no intentions of ever doing anything with him and i assume he share the sentiments, a-and it is appalling that you think so—!” you breathed in deep, willing your face to relax and to settle your wild heart. “i don’t need him to be anything other than a reluctant acquaintance.”

pandora laughs from the floor, “not even considering him as a friend? poor sirius.”

you huff, embarrassed and frankly a bit betrayed.

you friends have convinced themselves of sirius’ intentions to be more than what is required of him. pushing you of all people to act upon seducing him using your gods given womanly assets, as pandora had once labelled.

you abruptly stood up from the table, going over to the stove to reheat the water to make more tea. “besides, i am perfectly capable of handling things by myself, thank you very much.”

it’s dorcas who laughs this time, “what do you mean? just last week, he had to bandage your finger for you because you bit your cuticle to blood. you are entirely dependent on him at this point.”

you huff, “i am not. i am a woman capable of attending to my own needs. that was the bind’s requirements of it all, i have to let him do these things or the bond won’t ever let him leave, you know this already.” you groan, rolling your eyes. “my point still stands. i don’t need him, nor will i ever need him. i just want all of this out of my life and in the past, like it should have been.”

“doesn’t he have his own room in this house by now?”

“it’s not his room, it’s a guest room— that he frequently uses. there’s a difference.”

it was pandora munching on peanuts, wholly amused that responded next, “right,” she drawled, “and that’s why he has his clothes folded and tucked away in the closet.”

“oh piss off, the nuisance sometimes happens in the middle of the night. how could i let him go home so late? what kind of host would i be?”

“couldn’t he just go home straight after?” dorcas asks.

“is it a nuisance, still?” pandora asks.

you cross your arms, petulant, “he can, but he chooses not to. and yes, still.” you scoff, “i know you think something filthy is happening but i particularly don’t enjoy his impromptu trespasses, believe me.”

“i don’t know, you two seem to be getting along quite well.”

“me and that useless oaf? are you joking?”

pandora smiled sweetly, “hardly useless now, i hear.”

“and what did you hear?”

“takes care of you quite well, what with dinner invites with the potters and even travelling?”

you turned around, fiddling with the tea cups, hoping to hide your darkening flush. but you know it did nothing, judging by their giggles.

“travelling?” dorcas inquired, interest piqued.

you don’t see her but you can sense her teasing smile.

you have yet to share that tidbit of embarrassing info to her. mainly because you don’t know how to squeeze it in and you don’t know how to even begin.

you did go to the potters for one random dinner. the invite came after sirius had come and helped you arrange your home library. it was just a simple dinner. filled with other people, hardly anything scandalous.

the travelling together was accidental. you were off to travel with bloke #4, as graciously dubbed by sirius (someone regulus had set you up with at the time) off to a romantic getaway for the weekend to a hot spring up the mountains. only to get thirsty halfway through your trip and have sirius show up in your train compartment only in his boxers and fluffy bunny slippers.

there were no other stops in the train. anti apparition wards set up and the floo connection was severed in the hotel to promote exclusivity, sirius had to join in on the activities through his relentless insistence. he had ate and laughed obnoxiously loud - sitting dangerously close to you the entire trip. he had constantly went on a tangent, reminiscing about your past relationship ranging from random dates to the make out spots you’ve frequented together in hogwarts. safe to say that was the last time you’ve heard from bloke #4.

but you could hardly think to be upset about that. you quite… enjoyed yourself.

but you’ll be damned before you admit that to these two vultures.

taking a deep breath, “there was no dinner invites nor travelling. it was—“

“magical nuisance, yes, yes.” pandora waves off.

you roll your eyes again, grabbing the hot kettle to steep the tea. “stop trying to make things—ah! fuck, ow.” you hiss, holding your painfully warm, stinging fingers. you see the tiny boils already appearing on your skin, the piercing pain shooting through your fingers. you squeezed your hand, hoping to elevate some of the pain.

sirius made a quick move to grab your wrists to pull you to the sink. you didn’t even hear him arrive.

“what happened?” he asks, silver eyes looking at you in intense worry. softly holding your hand under the cold running water gliding down your hand. he was standing so close to you you could smell a tiny hint of his soap. you slowly start to relax.

that is before you catch dorcas’ glinting gaze and pandora’s knowing smile. both of which you vehemently ignore, as you stare at your red fingers and his much larger hand on yours.

“i burned my fingers on the kettle.”

“goodness love, you have to be more careful.”

“sorry.” you mumbled, but having no idea why you would even apologize in the first place. still, you feel the heat of your hand spread to your body.

dorcas, having stood up to help you sat back down again, “hello, sirius. right on time as always.” she called, a cetain lilt in her voice you nervously recognized.

“sirius black, what a coincidence.” pandora sing songs, no subtlety whatsoever.

oh, they are just the worst.

he regarded them both in an overly familiar smile (an ex shouldn’t give to his ex’s friends) and in a light teasing tone as he says “good evening, ladies. why do i get the feeling like you’ve been gossiping about me?”

“you might have been mentioned once or twice.” pandora shrugged.

sirius softly laughs, the sound barely heard over the sink, before he stares at your fingers again, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin. before looking at you with a teasing smirk to which you only roll your eyes at.

you see shuffling in your peripheral, meeting your friend’s eyes, you see them gesture to you and sirius. trying to wordlessly communicate to you with wide smiles. you imagine something akin to, see? what did we tell you? not useless right? nuisance my ass. look at you guys holding hands under the water.

as if just realizing it now, you pull your hand away from his grip in an embarrassed haste, as he slowly lets go with a small frown etched on his face.

drying his hands on the towel, as he leans down to unnecessarily whisper to you. “i’m going to get a burn salve, i’ll be quick.”

“it’s in the—“

“bathroom, yes, angel, i know. just wait for me.” he drawled, giving you a wry smile.

you stare at his retreating figure. you almost want to laugh at his serious reaction to a simple burn from a kettle. hardly calls for any salve. but you kept the comments in, for whatever reason. a fluffy, dangerous feeling erupting in your chest.

you hear dorcas whistle to get your attention, a smirk on her face, “angel?”

when the promise first happened, it was during graduation from hogwarts. absolutely gutted by the fact that your parents didn’t show. they’ve been vocal about their disappointment that you weren’t able to finish at the top of your class. but you had hoped they would still show. you were, after all, still their kid.

but there was noticeably empty seats in an area reserved for your family. so, naturally as any teenager, the next best thing you could do in the situation is cry alone in a bathroom.

though the lack of company didn’t last too long, because then your boyfriend appeared, looking to be in a middle of taking pictures if his big and goofy face is anything to go by.

he heard you, before he saw you. hearing your soft sniffles and the tiny hiccups from your mouth. at the time, you both didn’t question what had happen. why he was inside the girl’s bathroom, why is there a strange pull to follow your every whims. but he was suddenly there to comfort you, and make you smile again—who were you deny his services?

you both only managed to understand what was happening by the third time it happened. sirius suddenly appearing by your bedside, wet and covered in suds. he was in the middle of showering and you promptly freaked out, seeing large bits you weren’t ready to see yet.

but understanding why it was happening didn’t mean both of you would be prepared anytime it actually happened.

the bind didn’t pick and choose when, where, and why he would appear. there was an embarrassing moment when he showed up in the bathroom when you’ve ran out of tissue paper. also at your house during dinner when you needed salt, to which your parents justifiably freaked out at the sight of a boy, claiming to be your boyfriend.

this hasn’t changed years later.

now as you lie in your bed, feeling the scratchy feeling in your throat. you knew by the tingles in your arms. the thrumming static of your magic within you— letting you know of his arrival before you could even sit up.

there he was, your ex-boyfriend, like the days before. it was terribly late, and he was struggling to even stand straight as he yawns in the middle of your room, wearing a set of well-loved teddy bear pajamas.

“somethin’ wrong baby?” his voice deep, hoarse and low. something exciting spiking through your veins, making you more awake.

you knew, if he was more alert he wouldn’t have called you that.

you try not to think why you feel miffed by that fact.

“jus’ some water please.” you call softly from your bed.

he yawns again, rubbing his flat belly, “okay.” he breathes, walking in the darkness of your room with practiced ease.

you hear the small sounds of clanks in the kitchen, and the fridge being pulled open.

he knew you liked you water cold. he knew where your drinking glasses were. he knew where you keep the salves. he knew your apartment in the dark.

in the beginning, especially after your relationship ended, you associated this binding promise as an act of forceful requirement. at best, you see it as a favour you give to a stranger. but lately, especially in the quiet of your house, the pet names that keeps slipping out of his mouth as of late—you start to dangerously think of this as something else. as something more. as something painfully familiar.

he comes back quiet, siting on the bed near your thighs, as he hands you the cool, moist glass. his hair was tousled more than usual. there were sleeping marks on his face. he was probably already asleep before you needed him here.

you feel a little bit guilty, but you see his flushed cheeks through the soft glow of the moon outside your window, and the hooded gaze he desperately tries to keep open. you fight back a smile instead.

“is that all, baby?” his hand softly smoothing your hair at the back of your head. your room felt ridiculously warm.

“thank you.” you murmured before setting the glass on the bedside table.

he gives you one last sleepy smile, eyes closed and his hair toppling over his eyes. “okay, if that’s all—“

“are you going back?” you cut in, holding his wrist, your finger on his pulse. keeping him seated before he could even stand. before his warmth leaves your bed.

“i don’t have to..” he offers. like always, giving you the choice to draw the line.

you hesitate before you answer, letting go of his wrist, “it’s late..” and that’s all you say, and apparently that’s all he needs.

“is it alright then, if i stay the night? then i can leave in the morning?” he whispers back. his warm hand, touching your thigh over the covers. he felt so far away.

you don’t do this, not usually. but in the dark space of your room you feel more confident. more assured. braver.

you move slightly to the side, giving him space, “if you want.” conveniently forgetting the existence of the spare room. choosing to blame it on the lack of sleep.

he smiles, moving the covers. the short moment of exposure making you shiver in the cold. he notices, quickly sliding into bed with you. arms stiffly on his sides and yours crossed across your chest.

still not brave enough.

you feel him shuffle, laying on his side and facing you. his fingers just barely grazing your sides in a soft touch.

you fell asleep faster than any other night, hearing him breath near your ear.

you dream of a teary conversation from a time not so long ago, of desperate pleas not to leave you. and when you feel his arm curl around your waist. you dreaming of nothing for the rest of night.

the next morning, you woke up later than you would have, and see the too empty space next to you. the pang in your chest, grossly familiar.

it had been a month since the night he’s stayed with you. not a breath has been acknowledged about that night. choosing to ignore the lingering tension, the long stares and the awkward dispositions.

you don’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.

of course, your friends had noticed this - because hadn’t they been analyzing each of your move when it comes to sirius black?

dorcas eventually had to force it out of you. to which pandora squealed and teased you in delight. insistent of the blooming change in your relationship.

“blooming change?” you repeated.

“what? it’s poetic!” she argues.

“it’s dumb,” regulus calls out. “y/n isn’t the kind to return to an ex, especially not to my dumb brother, right y/n?” he looks so earnestly confident. so much so that you couldn’t even lie to agree with him. truth be told, you have no idea if you were even the type to go back, regardless if it was reggie’s dumb brother or not.

because sirius has been your first boyfriend and if this bind continues on, he might be your last. you don’t know if that’s a good thing, all things considered.

everyone has turned to you now, in varying degrees of smugness, amusement, pride and playful pity.

dorcas laughs, saving you from answering. “i don’t know reggie, seems like y/n’s getting a little swayed.”

reggie reacts for you, as if offended. “she is not! she is actively going on dates and meeting new people.”

“oh?” dorcas smirked.

barty, sitting up straighter, “doesn’t he have a room here or something?”

you say, “no,“ “yes.” pandora quips, at the same time.

you rolled your eyes, “it’s a guest room—“

“one that conveniently went unused in one random night.” evan hummed, smirking, as he blew his smoke out the window.

pandora and dorcas ooh’ed.

“it was late! he was practically dragging himself from the floor, i couldn’t let him hurt himself after i interrupted his sleep, a-and he was already there, it’d be rude not to—i don’t even know why i’m explaining myself to you!— i don’t have to explain myself, because i did nothing wrong.” your met with four amused looks and one gut wrenchingly, disappointed one.

dorcas clicked her tongue, “i don’t know why you’re even fighting it at this point.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean, you clearly want to be with him still.”

you sputter, sitting straighter, indignant as you say, “what gave you that idea?”

“the longing gaze.”

“acting all shy.” barty adds.

“the late night rendezvous,” evan hums.

“giving him his own room.” pandora pointedly looked at you.

“the inability to pursue any other relationship after him.” regulus tutted.

you gasp, betrayed. “even you reggie?”

regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and legs, “i am running out of eligible acquaintances to set you up with, you know.”

you don’t even know how to respond to that.

frankly you can’t. because you know they were right, and dammit if that didn’t hurt your pride just a little.

still, ridiculously hung up on an ex that didn’t even love you. a joke, really.

but you relish in the idea of sirius being near you. it sends a certain tingle down your spine just knowing he’ll arrive anytime, and be there for you. you like how he always stands so close to you even if he doesn’t have to. you like how you don’t have to tell him what he has to do before he does it. you like the pet names naturally slipping past his pretty mouth. how he’s always touching you in some way. how familiar it feels. the habits, the conversations, the feelings—how easy it all seems.

but it isn’t. you know it isn’t.

because you’ve tried and failed.

you fell for him, loved him the way you know how. leaving nothing for yourself as you give everything for him. loving him with no expectations for him to do the same. and so, he doesn’t.

he couldn’t love you back. at least not in the way you entirely feel for him.

he couldn’t look past his life and the experiences he’d endured just to reach that moment in the past. it wrecked you. you didn’t expect anything, but it still hurt when you got nothing for everything you had.

you don’t like the reminder, but you know you need it. you know how destroying it is to forget. you’ve tried being with him already and it didn’t work. you say this to them, whispered, as if ashamed.

you don’t even feel the tears sliding down your check as you say this.

dorcas’ smile dropped and pandora immediately sat down beside you.

“hey, you know it won’t be like that again.” pandora rubbing your shoulders.

“do i?” you rasped. “what’s so different about now than before? what’s to stop us from breaking up again?”

“it’s going to be different because you are different, and so is he.” dorcas said. “you were just teenagers, you barely knew yourselves back then. you weren’t ready for each other yet. he had issues to work out, and you had to grow up a little to understand that.”

you sniffled, “and you think we’re ready.”

“yes,” they all said.

dorcas reaching over and squeezing your hand, “i know you’re both ready.”

you shake your head, you don’t know if that’s true, “our forced proximity lasted longer than our actually relationship. and it’s only lasted this long because it’s just that—forced.”

pandora shook her head, dangling earrings clinking together. “that’s not true. it’s lasted this long because you wanted it to. you both wanted it to.”

evan nodded, smothering his cigarette butt and throwing it outside, “i, personally, wouldn’t want to spend any second with any of my exes, but you both didn’t even try finding any sort of solution to break the promise.”

barty gives you an awkward smile, as evan continues “if you had wanted to call it quits you would’ve found a way to end all of this the moment he had broken up with you. but you didn’t—“

“that’s because i couldn’t—“

“don’t lie,” regulus cut in, pouting, looking a bit like a petulant child. “we all know you could have found something in this ridiculously large library of yours.”

“why are you suddenly advocating for sirius and i to get back together again?”

regulus clicked his tongue, looking away. a slight flush on his cheeks. “i’m not advocating anything.” he huffs. “he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. but if it’s sirius that ultimately makes you happy. then so be it.”

you swallow a lump, breathing a staggering breath, “i don’t know if he even—“

“he does.” regulus looking at you, eyes clear and sure. “he wouldn’t be so cross with me for setting you up with dates if he doesn’t.”

that same night, sirius, for once, was not summoned by you but of a call from regulus.

he already feels the natural flare of irritation, bracing himself for another round of teasing hums and provoking stories about how you’re on a date in an exclusive restaurant, with a bloke who’s ready to give you everything you need.

standing up from james’ couch, going to the kitchen to block the noise from the muggle telley, as remus called it. then accepting the call,

“i swear if you’re calling just to gloat about another conquest you’ve put her through then—“

“she needs you.” regulus slurred.

feeling an immediate spike in his heartbeat. already grabbing his jacket and hurrying to the front door to leave.

“we’re in a pub, bring your motorbike or something, she can’t apparate right now, too drunk.”

“i’ll be there in 10.” grabbing remus’ keys off a bowl in the entrance.

“oi, where the hell are you taking my car?” remus shrieked from the couch.

without looking back, “she needs me.”

peter whines from the living room, “but the game-!”

and he only slams the door close as a response.

“we’re in the east village, near a fountain.” regulus sluggishly explained before hanging up.

sirius wasn’t the best driver. in hindsight, he probably should have asked remus to drive him to you. but this was about you. he could hardly think about anything else when it comes to you. he would do anything for you, binding promise or not.

he found it particularly odd and extremely worrying, why you’re drinking on a thursday night. he knew you couldn’t handle your alcohol well, always ending up drinking too much and passing out.

considering regulus had to call him to come get you didn’t help his nerves as he drove faster than the limit allowed.

when he arrived expecting the worse, he found himself smiling at the sight of you.

you were laying your head on regulus lap as you both sat on the bench. he can hear barty and pandora trying to lift each other. dorcas and evan cheering them on.

but all he can see is you laying there. eyes closed and cheeks darkly flushed, dress splaying over your thighs. regulus smoothing your hair, lulling you to sleep. when he met his brother’s eyes. the younger black rolled his eyes and beckoned him over.

“took you long enough.” regulus grumbled, now sounding sober than when he called.

“is she okay?” sirius asks, crouching down and staring at your sleeping face for any signs of discomfort or pain.

regulus sighs, “just got a bit carried away, this one. she was… upset tonight so we let her have her fun an—“

“upset?” sirius cuts, couldn’t help the finger tracing your cheek and jaw. your nose twitching at his action. “why was she upset?”

regulus waves his hand, making vague gestures but offering no explanation. sirius frowns.

“i can take her home,” standing up, now as he calls out to the others. “does anybody else need a ride?”

all four heads, shook their heads and offered varying words of thanks. “you reggie?”

“don’t bother, i’m perfectly capable.” he tuts. “be careful of that metal beast.”

with slow movements, sirius slides his arms under your neck and the back of your thighs. making sure your dress stay tucked and you comfortably napping before lifting you up.

once lifted, your head turns to the crevice of his neck, burying your nose and breathing in deep. wrapping your own arms around his neck with practiced ease and familiarity.

his heart thrumming and slowing all the same. he likes you like this, so close to him and looking so content as you do now.

nodding his goodbyes to the others, as he walks to the car again. opening the car door proved to be a challenge what with an armful of you. but he managed to do so without jostling you too much. he didn’t want to wake you, but such actions proved to be futile as the moment you were placed in the passenger seat, you froze awake.

he tries to appease you with a gentle smile, brushing your hair behind your ear. “hi love, i’m getting you home today, is that alright?”

“siri?” you rasp, looking at him like he wasn’t real. his chest pounding as he sees your eyes glossing and shining with unshed tears. he immediately crouch down in front of you, grabbing of your hands, and peppering soft kisses on your knuckles.

“what is it, my love, why are you crying?”

“you’re here?”

he nodded, kissing your knuckles again. “i’m here.”

you said nothing, just staring at him. looking so lost and tearful. he feels a little guilty thinking you to be heart-clenchingly adorable, right now. looking so soft and precious, the urge to stay the night in the parking lot and just stare at you was strong but he knows he has to take you home, else you get sick.

he thought you were to say nothing else. so, he stood to close the door and head to the driver’s seat but you whined. tugging at his hand still in your clasp and pull him to you. tucking his head into your neck and burying your hand in his hair.

this is entering dangerous territories now, he thinks. one he very much like to continue venturing but he knows you weren’t sound of mind right now. so he refrains from touching you anymore than he has. his hands desperately clutching to the cold, hard car, substituting for your soft, pretty skin.

you whine, “don’t go.”

“‘m not going anywhere, baby. i’m just going to the seat next to you.” he mumbled, his lips agonizingly grazing your skin, he ignores the way your body shivers and the filthy thoughts that come with it. his hands gripping the car tighter.

“next to me?”

“yes, next to you.”

you eventually let him go, but not without constant coaxing.

he drives, slow and steady. avoiding potholes and uneven roads. you fell asleep again, from the slow, quiet drive and the soft, mellow music coming from the radio.

then sooner than he had liked, he parks in front of your house. he kills the engine and he whispers his calls to you. not sure whether he wants you awake to be feeling okay enough to walk or asleep so he can touch you again.

he moves when you stay quiet, doing everything he can to keep you from waking up. letting out a soft hiss each time a creak or a thump echoes in your quiet house.

when he finally, finally reaches your bedroom and lays you there, he’s quick to take off your shoes. then the realization of his next move taunts him. although, you looked very pretty with your dress, he doesn’t know if he should change your clothes into something more comfortable for you.

he knew an intense hungover when he sees one. getting up to change clothes isn’t pleasant with a raging headache. he stares at your laying figure. the thin strap of your dress slipped down, and your legs looking longer than he remembers.

he looks away before he sees anymore. it didn’t feel right, looking at you that way. especially whilst unconscious.

he open your dresser, knowing the drawer you keep your pajamas.

he sees a familiar, more faded than he remembers, shirt he always wore. the thought of you wearing his clothes makes him too happy and giddy for an adult man.

he fights his heart from beating too loudly. afraid you’ll hear. bites his lips to stop his giddy grin, and forces his eyes to focus on his search. but eventually did land on his old shirt and some long bottoms so you’d be warm.

he slid the bottoms first. careful not to touch your skin but very much feeling the heat of your thigh. he held his breath as he reached the curve of your bum. stopping and not knowing what to do next. with one arm he lifts you slightly off the bed. and with his eyes clenched tight, fast and frantic hands—holding his breath as he went to pull it up.

next was his your shirt. he had you sit up, head laying heavy on his shoulders. softly pulling back from you to slip the shirt over your head before letting you lean into him again. guiding your arms and pulling the soft tee down.

with a bated breath, he feels for the zipper at the back of your dress.

fingers touching and sliding over your back. the touch leaving a lingering static in his fingers. when he clutched the thin tiny thing, he slide it down. slowly, careful not to pinch your skin.

he hears you sigh from relief, letting himself smile, knowing he did a good job.

he lets you lay back down, properly this time, slip off your dress, cleans your face with a warm wet face towel.

he knows he should go. he knows to let you get your rest and sleep. knows he should return remus’ car. knows the lads are probably waiting for him. but there is no urge to leave. instead he stares at your clean bare face, the soft lines and pretty marks on your face just adds more to your allure.

he didn’t know how long he stared at you. it could’ve been a minute to a full hour, too busy studying your face, seeing all the new marks and the familiar ones, committing them to memory.

he was about to leave, lest he bothers you and wake you up. but you stirred.

stretching as you did so. and blearily stared at him. expectant and quiet.

your voice hoarse but genuine all the same. “it’s late..” he knew what you mean. the unspoken invitation, just like last time.

and he wants to—god he wants to.

“i can’t baby,” you were drunk, he wasn’t. it wouldn’t be fair.

“you’re leaving again?”

that did him in, slumping down on the bed. rubbing your outer thigh through your covers. “i’ll stay then, just rest.”

“but you’ll just leave me like last time.” you mumbled.

he gives you a lopsided smile, apologetic and painfully endeared all the same, “i had to, my love, i had work.”

“no,” you breathed, softly shaking your head, letting out a staggering breath like you were going to cry. “i meant the first time.” you whispered.

it was shameful the way he slowly realized what you had meant. you didn’t sound angry or bitter. or even resentful even if you had all the rights to.

he didn’t respond. letting your words stew in his mind. the quiet in the entire house emphasized by the ringing in his ears. he didn’t know what to say.

what words you were waiting for him to say. what words he can say to make it all better.

he didn’t even know you still think about that. still thinking about your relationship, and what had happened, and why it ended the way it did.

still thinking about it like him, who sometimes find it difficult to sleep thinking about you and the pain he caused you. the regret heavy in his veins like lead.

he should apologize, probably beg or grovel about the way it ended.

he was about to.

but he hears your soft breathing again. the stillness in your body, only sleep can make that he realizes he’s lost his chance.

again.

he rubbed your thighs, still. hoping to lull you into a deeper sleep. he grabbed a glass of cold water and put a statis charm so it would stay cool. he petted your hair, and caressed your cheek. it was painful, and he struggled. but he eventually left. feeling the same amount of fulfilled and disappointment altogether.

it was the next morning where sirius was beckoned again, this time not by a call from his baby brother but by the usual pull of your magic. he had expected as much, even fixed up his hair and wore fresh clean clothes and even put on perfume.

he did it whenever he could. in case you were to need him.

he even has a couple of hungover potion in his pocket just in case.

when he got summoned, popping into your familiar bedroom like the nights and mornings before. he was greeted with you still buried under the covers, eyebrows scrunched and eyes already open. you looked like you’ve been awake for some time now, but still refused to move.

you looked so tired and groggy and so soft and warm and homely and pretty.

someone with a hungover shouldn’t look as good as you did. but you are. he ignores the flutters in his stomach, tightening into a coil and puts on an easy smile.

“good morning dizzy girl.” he sing songs. plopping down on your bed, making sure to bounce you a little as he did.

you groan some more, turning away from him, holding your head.

he softly laughs. reaching over to smooth out your hair, “did you drink water?”

“hn.”

he took that as a no.

“up you go, c’mon. drink, you’ll feel better.” he grabs the glass. still filled full and cool like last night.

sliding his rough hands under your neck and the other to your back. slowly sitting you up so you can drink. you give little to no protest at all at his touch and considers this a win. his lips feeling a little wobbly as he fights a smile.

you took a small sip and then a larger gulp, sighing after finishing the whole glass.

“i also have a hangover potion and a headache one that lily made, so you know it’s good—“

“you left again.” you rasped, a small frown on your pretty face, still turned away from him.

he stops.

it suddenly dawns on him how you’ve yet to look at him, or greet him like you do when he always appears. he chalked it up to you being hungover or the highly probable headache you must have. not sulking, or possible moping over the fact that he hadn’t waited for you until morning.

he feels his heart take up larger room than normal in his chest. the loud thrumming under his veins as his magic comes to life, the burning desire of it all, the ringing in his ears, his pulse loud and the heat coming to his face.

you weren’t playing fair.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, scooting near you. reaching out to wrap his arms around your shoulders, then lightly tugging you to him, to lean on him like you did the night before. it was through his absolute delight that you let him.

giving him the courage to continue his ministrations.

“you said you’d stay.” you softly whined, voice muffled by his neck. your hands gripping his shirt.

so unfair.

he’s fully hugging you now. he tries to fight the sigh that threatens to come out of his mouth from having you in his arms again.

he hadn’t expected for you to remember last night, what with constantly falling asleep. he should’ve prepared for it though.

“i’m sorry.” he repeats. this more graver than the last. this apology carrying more weight and more reason, when he remembers your last question.

“you always leave.” he feels something wet touch his neck. his hearts clench, the image of your tears too clear for him. “always leaving me.”

he tries to lean back to get a good look on you but once you felt him move away, you tightened your grip. now wrapping your own arms around his waist. sirius doesn’t know how to feel. suddenly wrapped in your warmness and the familiar feeling and the guilt that you’re crying over him.

again.

causing you pain, again.

“i know, i’m sorry.” he hates that it’s all he can say. hates he can’t say anything else.

so you ask, “why?”

why?

he knows what you’re asking isn’t about why he’s sorry for leaving. he knows you’re asking something else. one withheld from you from the very beginning.

why do keep calling me nicknames?

why do keep touching me?

why do i feel this way?

why can’t you stay?

why did you leave?

why didn’t you love me back?

there’s a lot of answers he’s withheld from you but he starts from the one heavy on his mind.

he suddenly wonders if you’ve been left wondering too.

if it keeps you up at night, and having no one to answer it. if it eats you up and if you regret being with him, the same way he regrets ever leaving you.

“i didn’t think that— you would want me to stay, after what i did. i didn’t dare myself to even think you could still want me— or even be around my presence at all.” he says this quiet and so close to your ear.

you let him go now, leaning against the bed post instead.

sirius instantly wishing for you to come back into his arms again, but he refrains.

“you thought i didn’t want you?”

“who would?” he laughs, albeit a bit self-deprecating but hoping you’ll take it as a joke. you only frown. “sirius, of course i would still want you. you’re the best thing that happened to me.” your eyes looked so clear then, so sure.

so sure it burns him.

“but i hurt you. i caused you pain, i’ve disappointed you again and again—“

“you didn’t disappoint me.” you grab his hands, your touch still so soft like he remembers it. “i was hurt, yes, but that wasn’t your fault. it was my own fault for giving you more than what you were comfortable with.”

he shook his head, frowning hard. “don’t do that.”

“what?”

“be understanding,” he laughs, incredulous. “taking responsibility for me being a shitty boyfriend to you for being a complete arse to you.”

“you did what you could. what with everything you went through?”

he turns away, but you grab his face with your other hand, and tilts his chin up.

“all the things you’ve had to endure? i know you try to hide your struggles with it all. but i see you. i see all the things, all the extra steps you have to take to become better than what your parents set you out for. and now look at you, making it out on your own. making new friends, no trace of the anger and bitterness they tried so hard to embed in you. i loved you for it all, and i understood why you couldn’t, even if it hurt. because that’s how people love. you love someone even if they have all the capabilities to hurt you more than anything in the world— and i have loved you for so long. and i might’ve not understood this when we were younger, but i do now. i wasn’t asking for apologies because i’ve long forgiven you for everything in the past. but i wanted to know what it is you felt. why you felt the need to hide the reasons from me.”

he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

you let his face go. but he grabs it. incasing your hand in his.

mind sticking to one thing he feared.

loved?

has he lost his chance again?

have you deemed him unnecessary?

“you don’t—?” he sighs, stopping himself, that wasn’t important right now. especially not if you were looking at him, looking so patient.

he started slow, contemplative if he can articulate it well enough for you to understand. “i didn’t think i could ever be capable of love, or be anyone you could ever want and need. because you’re amazing. when you said you loved me for the first time, i thought i was dooming you. my family. my circumstances. i thought i was going to ruin you and i couldn’t live with the thought of doing that to you. so i thought that leaving would be for the best. i tried to leave. tried and convinced myself it was for you. that i had to let you go for you. but i couldn’t do it. selfish as it is, i couldn’t let you go.

“i even found a way to stop the bind, but thinking that my last connection with you would be gone, and you would forget about me—have a life without me there, i couldn’t. because, because i love you. i have loved you from the moment you smiled at me. it terrified me, how much i love you and how much i was willing to do anything for you. i love you more than i could ever understand and i’m sorry if i couldn’t say it that time, i’m sorry if this is a bit late, but i love being needed by you. i love being around you. i-i need you, more than you could ever need me.”

he didn’t notice the tears spilling to his cheeks before you wiped it away for him.

your eyes looking so soft.

“you love me?” you breathed.

as if it was unbelievable.

as if it wasn’t possible.

sirius hates himself a little more at the thought he might have caused some insecurity for you.

because it was ridiculous.

“i love you.” and like a broken record, he repeats it. again and again and again. much firmer than the last.

and you smile, so big and beautiful. and your eyes shining and so pretty. it was like the sun was shining so much brighter that day. like the clouds were opening up in the sky and bathing you in a golden glow.

he repeats it again, because he’s spent so many years holding himself back. and if your reaction is the same every time he says it then he’ll say it everyday. with every sentence, with every greeting, with every meal you cook for him. with every night he picks you up from a pub absolutely sloshed. with every irritating conversation he has with his baby brother. with every teasing quips from the lads. with every secret smile you give him. every time he touches you, every time he looks at you. because gods, don’t you look absolutely magnificent and unbelievable right now.

“i love you,” he repeats.

“i love you too.” you laugh. like your smile was getting too wide and too happy that you had to laugh.

and his heart soars. couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, as he leans in and captures your lips like he’s done so many times before.

thinking himself a proper idiot if he ever thought he could ever live without touching your lips ever again.

he touches your face like he did the night before. he grabs your waist like he always does. and he tilts your heads like a time before. he tastes a salty thing as your tears slides near his lips and he relishes in its taste.

he feels the warmth spreading to his entire face and body. feels the humming of his magic intertwining with yours. your soft mouth moving against him. and the stretch of your lips, smiling into the kiss.

he pulls away even if he didn’t want to.

“i love you,” he says again, and you smile at him so sweetly.

he repeats it because of your pretty smile.

and again. because he can.

IM SOBBING SO HARD

If I Kiss You, I’m Sorry Part 8

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘠/𝘕 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦… 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵.

News of you and James’ breakup spread like wildfire. By the following morning it seemed as if everyone knew. And by the third day, they were done pretending they didn’t.

If you thought you had eyes on you before, it’s nothing compared to the attention you’re getting now. Everybody seemed to have questions. Who broke up with who? Is Lily going to make a move now that James is single? More importantly, who are you going to be dating next? It’s no lie that everyone was shocked when you and James became an item. That was a pairing nobody saw coming. And if James Potter of all people had a chance, doesn’t every other boy in school?

It’s almost frightening how quickly everything went back to normal. You went from spending every moment of free time with James, to walking right past him without so much as a glance in his direction. It was like it always had been; with you not noticing James and him stealing glances at you whenever he could. Only it was worse than before because James went from daydreaming about being with you, to actually being with you, to losing you.

The marauders are hanging about the courtyard planning their next prank when they hear a name that gets all of their attention.

“Y/N!”

James automatically turns his head, but the tree he’s leaning against blocks you completely from his view.

“Hey…” you greet cautiously, coming to a stop in front of the dark haired Hufflepuff. “Garrett, right?”

“Actually it’s-yeah! Garrett!” he confirms, pointing to himself, surprised that you knew his name.

“What’s up?” you ask with a laugh.

“Oh! I just wanted to say that I was sorry to hear about you and James…”

“Oh…It’s okay.” you shrug. “These things happen.”

“I must say, I was shocked when I heard the news.” Garrett continues. “You two really seemed in love.”

James holds his breath, wondering what you’ll say.

“Eighteen is an inconvenient time to be in love.” you sigh with a tense smile. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh absolutely.” Garrett nods. “Love is overrated. Which is why I was thinking, why not go out with me?”

“Sorry?” you ask, looking at Garrett with a confused frown.

“Yeah! You and me, we’d be the hottest couple Hogwarts has ever seen!”

“Um, well I just got out of a relationship.” You remind him. “I’m not really looking-“

“For love. Yeah, I know. And I’m not offering it.” Garrett tells you with a smirk.

Anger courses through James as he listens to the conversation. He gets up, prepared to go over there when Sirius puts a hand on his chest, keeping him in place.

“It’s not your fight anymore, mate.” Sirius tells him with a grimace.

James glares at him before sighing, nodding his head in defeat as he leans against the tree again. As much as he hates to admit it, Sirius is right. It isn’t James’ place anymore to get involved.

“I’m not looking for anything right now.” you reiterate with a shake of your head.

“Come on! You’re that quick to shoot me down? At least give me a chance.” Garrett whines with a fake pout.

“Garrett,” you sigh, trying to think of something to say.

Remus, feeling bad for both you and James, decides to just put everyone out of their misery. He doesn’t miss the grateful look from James as he pushes himself off of the tree, turning the corner and coming to a stop right beside you.

“You don’t have a chance.” Remus tells Garrett with a polite grin. “And clearly no shame either.”

“I beg your pardon?” Garrett asks, looking between you and Remus in confusion.

“Do you really need me to insult you again?” Remus asks, tilting his head to the side. “Was the first time not enough? Or were you just to stupid to realize it?”

“What a fucking prat,” Garrett mumbles to himself as he walks away.

You sigh in relief before giving Remus a grateful smile.

“Thanks for saving me.”

“Don’t forget you’re single now. The guys are gonna be all over you.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “It was nice while it lasted.”

“What? Being left alone or being in a relationship with James?”

“See you around, Rem.” You say, giving him a sad smile before walking away.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You’re not the only one getting more attention than usual. It seems as if every boy in the bloody school has something to say to James. The amount of times he’s heard “I can’t believe you let her get away” and “Thanks for blowing it” is unreal. Someone even shamelessly asked James what he did wrong, so that they don’t “make the same mistake”.

And then there’s Lily, who’s made it her life’s purpose to be everywhere James is, much to the marauder’s annoyance. He was hoping to get some time to himself today at Hogsmeade; he was looking forward to it! But of course, things could never be that simple. James had just finished ranting to Sirius and Remus about how Lily had crashed his solo Hogsmeade trip when Peter burst into the room.

“What are you doing?” Remus asks when he sees Peter digging through his chocolate stash.

“I’m taking your fudge flies. I’ll pay you back.” Peter says, holding up the carton package in victory.

“No.” Remus says, snatching the box back. “If you wanted more sweets, you should have gone to Hogsmeade yourself.”

“I had other plans,” Peter whines, trying to grab the box. “But I need them!”

“Here. You can have this.” Remus offers, handing Peter a chocolate frog instead.

“No,” Peter shakes his head. “I don’t want that.”

“You like these!” Remus argues.

“It has to be fudge flies.” Peter insists, still trying to steal the box back.

“Why?” Remus groans in exasperation.

“Because they’re Y/N’s favorite!”

The dorm goes silent at that, everyone freezing before turning their gaze to Peter. Peter seizes the opportunity, snatching the box of fudge flies out of Remus’ hands and holding them to his chest.

“Wormtail…are you still hanging out with Y/N?” Remus asks, cautiously throwing a glance to James.

“Um…no?” Peter offers.

“Wormtail…” Remus calls.

“What do you want from me? I’m a child of divorce, okay?!” Peter defends.

“Peter,” Remus groans. “For the love of-“

“I can’t believe you!” Sirius tells him. “Y/N’s the one who broke up with James in the first place. And here you are, fraternizing with the enemy.”

“I’m fraternizing?” Peter repeats incredulously before pointing at James. “James went to Hogsmeade with Lily!”

“How do you even know that?” Sirius asks in confusion. “It literally just happened!”

“I didn’t plan on it!” James interrupts. “She just showed up!”

“That’s such a load of bull! Lily told Y/N she was going to Hogsmeade with you!” Peter tells him, still holding the box of fudge flies to his chest.

“What?” James asks, confused. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! I was with her when it happened! She was helping me with my alchemy assignment since you lot kept forgetting.”

“Lily said she was going with me?” James asks, more to himself than to Peter. She said that Marlene and Dorcas ditched her at the last minute. Was that a lie she said just to get close to him?

“What did Y/N do?” James finds himself asking before he can stop himself.

“Nothing.” Peter shrugs. “She said she hoped you’d have a good time together but then-“

“Then?” James asks, urging Peter to continue.

“Nothing.” Peter says, avoiding his gaze.

“Wormtail,” James sighs. “Just tell me.”

“I don’t know…she got really quiet after that.” Peter tells him. “She seemed sad.”

“She has no reason to be sad.” Sirius scoffs. “She’s the one who broke up with him in the first place.”

“When was this?” James asks, ignoring Sirius altogether.

“Thursday?” Peter mumbles with a shrug.

“Peter!” James groans. “If I had known Lily was plotting to go to Hogsmeade with me, I could’ve done something to stop it! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!”

“I forgot!” Peter shouts.

Everyone starts arguing at that point; Sirius calling Peter a traitor, Peter defending himself for still hanging out with you, Remus saying that they did technically forget to help Peter with his assignment in the first place. While all the screaming is going on, James digs through his trunk before approaching Peter, handing him a packet of sour slugs.

“Here. Take her these, too. If she eats too much chocolate, she needs to have something sour.”

“How do you even know that?” Sirius asks.

“Because she’s my-“ James starts, only to cut himself off, shaking his head with a sad smile. “Was. She was my girlfriend.”

Remus gives James a sympathetic smile as Peter cautiously takes the candy from him.

“Wait! Not my fudge flies!” Remus groans as Peter runs out of the room.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

James waits for Lily to be distracted before he slips out of the party. Ever since the break up, she’s made it a habit to be close to him. She crashed his Hogsmeade trip, she changed her schedule so they could do rounds together, she even started sitting with the marauders in the great hall. And James hates it because when Lily’s around, you’re all he can think about.

James takes a seat on the bench and undoes the clasp of the locket, spinning it around in his hands as he remembers all the time you used to sit out here together, taking about anything and everything.

Only a few minutes later, Lily manages to track down James and he sighs. So much for having some time to himself.

“There you are!” she calls as she gets closer. “Do you wanna go back inside?”

“I don’t wanna go to the stupid party.” James sighs sadly. “I want her back. I want her to want me back.”

“Who?” Lily asks, taking a seat beside him on the bench. “Y/N?”

“It’s not fair. I saw her first! Y/N had always been my little secret. She was this incredible thing I’d known about but everyone else seemed to miss. The treasure hidden in plain sight. The fortune of a lifetime that was somehow only visible to me.” James rambles, all the alcohol in his system making him miss you more than usual. “I saw her before everyone realized her worth. I loved her when nobody noticed her. And now everybody does! And she can have anyone and for a while that was me and it’s just- it’s not fair! It wasn’t nearly enough time.”

James hiccups, the firewhisky finally getting to him and Lily realizes in that moment that it’s you. Maybe at one point James did want her. Maybe he never wanted her at all, and he asked her out because he saw much it annoyed her. But one thing’s for certain, the only person he wants now is you. And sure, the attention James gave to Lily in sixth year was nice…at times. But she’d never forgive herself for being the thing that keeps you two apart. That being said, she bumps shoulders with James and gives him a comforting smile.

“You guys will be okay.”

“You really think so?” James asks with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah,” Lily nods. “You and Y/N have a love like you see on the big screen. And I’ve seen enough romantic comedies to know you’ll end up together.”

“Thanks, Lily.” James smiles.

“So what’s inside?” she asks, gesturing to the locket in his hand.

“Wanna see?” James asks, opening up the locket and handing it to her.

“Aw!” Lily laughs, looking at the picture of you and James. Lily watches as you look up at James with a smile and look away, only for James to immediately do the same thing. “It’s cute.”

“It was our first date,” James says proudly. “Our first official date.”

“And how was it?” Lily asks, handing the locket back to him.

“It was…the best day ever.” James sighs, closing the locket and putting it back on.

“Prongs!” Remus calls, “Are you out here?”

“Alright, let’s get you back to your friends.” Lily sighs, standing up. “I don’t know how to deal with you when you’re like this.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Y/N.”

You look up with a smile, only to frown when you see who called you.

“What do you want Michael?” you ask, hastily shoving your things back into your bag.

“You know what I want.” he says simply, causing you to scoff. “Are you going to make me ask again?”

“You didn’t even ask me the first time.” You remind him, standing from your seat. “You ordered me.”

“Same thing.”

“It really isn’t.” you shake your head. “But my answer hasn’t changed. I won’t marry you.”

“Y/N, I am a pure blood, high status wizard. I’m expected to marry a pure blood witch with a high status in the wizarding world.”

“By all means, marry one! I’m not the only pure blood girl.” you scoff. “There are others.”

“None as beautiful as you. A Gray such as myself deserves the best. And you, my dear, are the best.”

“Well I deserve to marry someone I love, and that isn’t you.”

“And who is?” Michael asks with a laugh. “Potter?”

You glare at him as he continues to laugh.

“Princess, he left you. If he doesn’t even want to be in a relationship with you, what makes you think he’d marry you?”

“Michael, stop it. You’re being mean.”

“I’m being honest.” he says, slowly walking towards you, backing you up against the wall. “There’s a war coming, Y/N. Marry me and I can protect you. Don’t you want to be on the right side?”

Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve slapped Michael. Head still turned to the side, he huffs in amusement before turning his steely gaze back to you.

“I’m not afraid of the Dark Lord.” you tell him with a defiant shake of your head. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

“You really should be.” Michael says, putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you up against the wall. You let out a surprised gasp, trying to shove him off to no avail.

“I did warn you that I would run out of patience.”

“Get off of me.” you demand weakly, giving his chest a shove, though it makes no difference.

“You’re in no place to give commands, princess.” Michael chuckles darkly.

Michael takes a step closer, invading your personal space, and that’s when you start to panic. You don’t know if he’s going to try to kiss you or hit you, and you don’t know which thought scares you more.

You’ve always prided yourself in being a brilliant witch. There are several defensive spells you’re able to perform with and without your wand. Unfortunately for you, you can’t remember a single one. At this moment, you’re just a scared, defenseless girl. And what do scared girls do? Run.

You stomp on Michael’s foot as hard as you can, and when he takes a step back, you push him away from you, grabbing your bag off the desk and running out of the room. Reaching the end of the hallway, you turn a corner, only to bump into a hard chest. Stumbling back, you look up and see James standing in front of you. James frowns in concern when he sees that you’re holding back tears.

“Are you okay?” he immediately asks.

Putting your head down, you try to walk past him but James grabs your wrist, keeping you in place.

“What happened?” he tries again.

“Nothing.” you shake your head, still avoiding his gaze. “I’m fine.”

“Obviously you’re not.” James argues. “Did someone say something to you?”

You silently shake your head, still trying to pull your wrist free from his grasp.

“Did someone do something to you?” James asks.

Immediately you freeze, looking up at James with wide eyes. Behind him, Remus, Peter, and Sirius all share a concerned look.

“What happened?” James asks again.

You open your mouth but no words come out, unable to tell James what happened. You feel embarrassed and ashamed that you weren’t able to fight Michael off. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you feel selfish for wanting James’ help even when you know that you no longer have that right.

“Nothing happened!” you yell, pulling your wrist from his grasp and running away. James watches you go with a worried frown.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Having just left study hall, James is headed back to the common room when he happens to overhear two Slytherins talking.

“Have you heard? Apparently Gray has gone and asked Y/N to marry him once school is done.”

James stops in his tracks. Marriage? But you’re so young. And you’re not even dating Michael!

“Did she accept?”

“Well, he didn’t really leave much room for argument.”

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing too bad. Just scared her a bit, I think.”

James seethes as he hears this. That’s probably why you were fighting back tears when you bumped into him in the corridor the other day. James spots Michael in the distance and immediately starts walking over there. As soon as James reaches him, he shoves him harshly.

“Stay the fuck away from Y/N.” he orders.

“Why should I?” Michael asks, fixing his jacket.

“Because I fucking said so.”

Michael huffs in amusement.

“I mean it.” James tells him. “Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even fucking think about her.”

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Potter.” Michael reminds him. “You have no claim over her.”

“That has nothing to do with it.” James shakes his head. “You’re a right prick and I won’t let you hurt her. So I’m telling you, for the last time, to stay away.”

“I don’t know.” Michael sighs. “I think she liked it when I was rough with her.”

James glares at him.

“Maybe that’s why she dumped you.” Michael continues. “Maybe she likes being pushed around.”

James sees red. Before he knows it, he’s pulled his fist back and clocked Michael right in the face. Michael winces as he touches his nose, glowering when sees blood on his hand.

“You’re dead, Potter.” he growls before swinging at him.

Michael and James continue to land blow after blow on each other before eventually Professor Gasly comes along and pulls them apart.

“What is going on?” He yells, looking between Michael and James for some sort of explanation.

“James threw the first punch!” a Slytherin shouts.

“But Michael started it!” A Gryffindor interjects. “He practically assaulted Y/N and then bragged about it!”

Michael tries to defend himself but is immediately shot down by Professor Gasly.

“Shut it. Not a word from you until you’re sitting in front of Dumbledore.”

Professor Gasly looks at James and rolls his eyes.

“Go clean yourself up.”

“Yes professor.” James says, turning around and walking away.

Having been tucked away in the courtyard enjoying the weather, you saw the whole confrontation with Michael. You watch James head into the castle and weigh your options before eventually following after him.

James knows he should probably go to the bathroom, or to his dorm, or even to Madam Pomfrey. But more than anything, he just wants to be alone. That being said, he walks into the first empty classroom he sees and takes a seat on the chair, groaning as he does. He sighs in annoyance when he hears a knock on the door.

James looks up and is surprised, as well as the tiniest bit relieved when he sees you standing there. You sheepishly hold up the damp washcloth in your hand.

“Can I help?”

Unable to form any words, James nods his head with a smile, only to wince when the cut on his lip starts bleeding again. You come to a stop right in front of James, and begin gently wiping his face with the washcloth, stopping every time he winces.

“I’m so sorry.” you whisper.

“Don’t be.” James says softly with a shake of his head.

“This is all my fault.”

“It’s not.”

“You got hurt because of me.”

“I got hurt because I started a fight with Michael.”

“Because of me.”

“Because he’s an absolute tosser.” James insists. The last thing he wants is for you to feel guilty. “It was only a matter of time before someone put him in his place.”

You sigh before eventually nodding your head, giving him a small smile. James takes in your features, desperately trying to memorize them. It’s been so long since he’s seen you up close. Heaven only knows when he’ll get another opportunity. His eyes zero in on your lips before he clears his throat, looking away.

“You can go.” he tells you, standing up and taking a few steps away to put some distance between the two of you. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Honestly? No.” James laughs with a shake of his head, back still turned to you. “And you should know that.”

“Pardon?”

“You have no right.”

“To what?”

“To make me love you!” James shouts, turning back around to face you. “To hold my hand and kiss me breathless and cheer for me at all my matches and look at me with those mesmerizing fucking eyes of yours and then just walk away like nothing happened!”

You look up at James with wide eyes, his outburst having caught you off guard.

“I was supposed to be over you!” he continues to yell. “I told myself it’d never work between us! I-I convinced myself it’d never happen! I moved on! And then you come along with your bouncy hair and radiant smile. And you listen to me, and you support me, and you’re the only person who really gets me and it’s not fucking fair!” James shouts before sighing. “None of this is fair. Knowing what it’s like to be loved by you and then losing you isn’t fair.”

“You…love me?” you ask, confusion clear in your voice.

“Yes!” James confesses. “More than anything.”

“But Lily…”

“Just a sad, pathetic attempt to get over you.” James tells you with a defeated shake of his head. “Nothing more.”

“But I heard you.” you continue. “With your friends. You were talking about not giving me the wrong idea and-”

“Darling, no.” James crosses the room in an instant, grabbing your hands as he stares into your eyes. “You misunderstand. We were talking about telling you how I felt about you, how I still feel about you. But I know this was supposed to be fake. I didn’t want you to hate me for ruining everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you assure him. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to apologize.” James tells you. “I would’ve thought the same thing… What were you doing out there anyway?”

“Hm?” you ask with wide eyes before looking away. “Oh! Um, I was actually coming to talk to you.”

“Oh? About what?” James tilts his head to the side as he watches you curiously.

“I was actually coming to tell you that I thought…I was falling in love with you.”

James’ eyes widened at that. He didn’t know what you were going to say, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting that. He had dreamt about you falling in love with him more times than he’d like to admit. He hoped and prayed and wished on every shooting star he ever saw; but to actually hear you say that you love him was something else entirely.

“R-really?” James asks breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you nod, still nervously avoiding eye contact. “But I’m not anymore.”

“Sorry?” James asks, confused.

“Falling in love.”

The look James gives you is one of utter devastation, so you’re quick to clarify.

“I’m far past that now, I’m afraid. I’m completely in love with you, James.” you admit, giving him a nervous smile.

“Don’t say that. Not if you don’t mean it.” James begs. “Please, darling. I will never recover.”

“It’s true,” you tell him. “I love you.”

James crashes his lips onto yours, one hand cupping your jaw, while the other gets buried in your hair and you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you kiss him back. When James finally finds the strength to pull away, you’re absolutely breathless. He is too, chest heaving as he gazes into your eyes, hands still cupping your face.

“I love you too. Godric, do I love you. I can’t believe I tried to fight it for so long. It’s you Y/N. You’re the one for me. It’s always been you. It will always be you.”

“It was never you for me.” you admit, causing James to let out a surprised laugh.

“Sorry?” he asks.

“I never in a million years thought I would ever be friends with you, let alone like you.” you continue.

“Wow,” James laughs. “You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

“But falling in love with you was the easiest thing in the world. And I only regret not falling for you sooner.”

James gives you a soft smile, eyes full of love as he gazes at you.

“Sorry I took so long.” you apologize with a sheepish smile.

James is momentarily brought back to third year, when he was sitting in Charms and everyone was laughing at him; when he looked to his left and saw you, really saw you for the first time…when everything changed.

“Don’t be.” he shakes his head. “I would’ve waited forever for you.”

“Would you really?”

“I waited this long.” James says, causing you to roll your eyes in amusement. Oh, how he’s missed this.

“Go out with me.” James asks. “For real this time. No ulterior motives, no lies, no misunderstandings. I want to be able to love you honestly, openly… I want to love you wholeheartedly.”

“I do, too.” you tell him with a nod.

“It’s a bit too soon for ‘I do’s’ don’t you think, love?” James teases.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you tell him with a shake of your head, trying to free yourself from his grasp. “Let’s break up.”

“Yeah right!” James says, tightening his hold on you. “I’ve already lost you once. I’ll be damned if I lose you again.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Look at them,” Sirius groans. “Absolutely disgusting.”

Remus looks up from his book, seeing you and James having your own conversation, whispering to each other as you smile and laugh amongst yourselves.

“Leave them alone, Padfoot,” Remus sighs.

“I just don’t understand why they have to be so touchy, feely, kissy all the bloody time!” Sirius continues to complain.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand.” Remus says, turning the page of his book. “You’ve never been in love.”

“Hey!” Sirius exclaims, throwing an exploding bonbon at him. It hits Remus on the side of the head then falls to the ground where Peter picks it up and unwraps it, plopping it into his mouth with a happy grin.

“You should be happy for them.”

“As if!”

“Okay, happy for him.” Remus tries again. “He went from borderline stalking Y/N, to dating her.”

“Oi!” James calls, looking up in offense.

“I never stalked her!” he shouts before turning to look at you. “I never stalked you, love. Honest.”

“Right,” Remus scoffs. “You just stared at her all the time, and hexed any guy that talked to her, and snuck sweets into her bag when she wasn’t looking.”

“Wait…the sweets in my bag, that was you?” you ask, looking between James and Remus. James nods his head with a shy smile while Sirius laughs.

“Godric, I didn’t know it was that bad! What else did he do, Moony?”

“NOTHING!” James shouts, face turning a brilliant shade of red.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice.” Remus tells Sirius. “It was kind of obvious.”

Sirius blinks several times, before shifting the attention to you.

“Yeah, Y/N. I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“wha-me? I didn’t know!” you defend.

“You didn’t know?” Sirius repeats skeptically. “According to Moony, he stared at you all day everyday. You honestly didn’t notice James’ eyes glued to you?”

“I didn’t notice James at all!” you stress, causing the boys to laugh.

“Love,” James whines, burying his face into your neck in embarrassment.

“But it’s fine because now he’s all I can think about.”

“So it’s safe to say it all turned out okay in the end.” James says with a proud grin.

“You make it sound as if this was your plan all along.” Sirius huffs in amusement.

“How do you know it wasn’t?” James asks, crossing his arms.

“Your master plan was to admire her from afar for years and then ask her to pretend to be your girlfriend in your last year of school, hoping she’d develop real feelings for you?” Remus asks incredulously.

“It’s called playing the long game, Moony.” James says with a nod, causing you to laugh.

“You’re an idiot.” Remus mumbles, getting back to his book.

“Unbelievable.” James says with a shake of his head. “I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this. Darling, would you like to go on a walk?”

You nod your head with a smile, grabbing James’ hands so he can pull you up.

“You don’t really hate them being together, do you?” Remus asks Sirius.

“Nah, I just like teasing him.” Sirius says, nodding his head. “Look at them, Moons.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all watch as James pulls a bouquet of flowers for you out of thin air. You grab a daisy from the arrangement and tuck it behind his ear and nod proudly at your work before you tilt your head up and pout your lips, silently asking for a kiss, which James is more than happy to give you.

“What they have is real,” Sirius tells him. “How could anyone be annoyed by that?”

reblogging so late, but i really dont want to lose this one, i loved it too much

Somebody To Love - Severus Snape

A/N: okay, honestly I am not even going to apologize for this because I loved it too much and I just hope you do to :D and it brought me out of my writers block so… enjoy xD

Warnings: mmmm so this is not smut, but there is heavy sex talk; it is a friends with benefits situation and it is a bit more descriptive than my usual works so I just rather be safe so not 18+ but maybe yes 16+; also reader smokes, Severus being an asshole (at first) and Malfoy and his friends making crude and crass comments about the reader so please don’t read if that will make you uncomfortable and let me know if I missed anything; also use of mudblood

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :D and this beautiful gif isn’t mine :) 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Somebody To Love

Can anybody find me somebody to love? Find Me somebody to love Somebody find me somebody to love

You had no idea how this happened. No. That was a lie. You knew exactly how it happened. For years you had considered Severus Snape to be your nemesis. You didn’t know exactly what it was. You had never gotten along with him. It didn’t help that you were in Gryffindor and he was in Slytherin. The two of you were always bickering and trying to defeat each other when it came to your courses. He was better at Potions, obviously. But you were better at Charms. He was better at Defense Against the Dark Arts but you were better at Herbology. No matter what it was, the two of you were constantly competing against each other. However, deep down… deep, deep down, you had always found him bewitching. There was something about him. You would never let anybody know, of course, since he was your sworn enemy, but you couldn’t help to feel drawn to him. You had been doing a marvelous job at hiding it, until one day…

“I can’t believe you got us detention!” he complained for about the hundredth time as the two of you cleaned the cauldrons in the Dungeons without magic.

“For the last time, Snape, I did not get us detention! This was your fault!”

“How was this my fault?!”

“I told you that you needed to brew the bloody potion the other way around but did you listen? Of course not, because you think nobody but you knows how to brew a bloody potion!”

“I could have made that stupid potion in my sleep if I wanted to! But you had to come with your stupid Gryffindor complex and make it all about yourself making the potion explode!”

“Oh, Merlin! Are you honestly so bloody pretentious that you can’t even admit the one time you might be wrong?!” you yelled, walking closer to him.

“I would admit if I was wrong, but I wasn’t!” he said, getting closer to you as well.

“No? Then why did our bloody potion explode?!”

“It was your fault!” he snapped, making you walk back into a wall.

“How? How was it my fault?!”

“Because you distracted me!” he blurted out.

“I distracted you?”

“Yes!”

“How did I distract you?”

“The same way you always do! You can never shut up! And you wore your stupid hair differently today! And you drenched yourself in your bloody perfume and the way you fucking bite your lip all the time!” he yelled and he was breathing heavily when he finished.

You had no idea if you were imagining this but you couldn’t dare to move. Severus had never been this close to you. And he had never talked to you that way. You were certain he felt the same way you did, and if he didn’t, you didn’t care anymore. You had to go for it. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and you brought him down to your lips. Severus widened his eyes in surprise for a mere moment before he closed them and wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you closer. There was no going back now.

Keep reading

Hi! I loved the first part of your Jason story. I noticed in your authors note that you said you might make some mistakes because English isn’t your first language (which always amazes me when people write in their not first language, especially as someone who only speaks English). Anyway I was wondering if you’d want mistakes (which I haven’t noticed any so far, just in the instance that it could happen) pointed out or not? Either way is fine and I’m really hoping not to be offensive or anything in anyway which is why I wanted to ask. 😄

sure as long as its not in a rude way! and its okay, you’re not being offensive, i actually want the what i write to be readable and understandable!

The Hero's Mission

Request:  None

Requested By:  Nobody

Prompt: “You're the hero, huh? I guess that makes me the villain."

Pairing:  Tom Riddle x Gryffindor!OC/reader

Summary:  The death of The Boy Who Lived requires the need of the Time Turner to change Tom Riddle for the better, saving dozens in the process. A Gryffindor has a different plan in mind, however.

Warnings:  mentions of death and murder

A/N:  Sorry for the wordcount. Not sorry for the Tom Riddle.

Word Count:  13K+

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

He really did it.

Voldemort killed Harry Potter.

The world seemed to have screeched to a halt, everyone staring in disbelief at the dead boy.

The Dark Lord cackled.  “I’ve done it!  I killed The Boy Who Lived!”

Red flooded my vision.  I pulled out my wand, marching forward.  Just as I raised it to cast a spell, my arm was grabbed and I was dragged back into the castle.  I fought against it, turning to point my wand at whoever had a hold of me.

My eyes widened and I stopped.  “Professor McGonagall,” I breathed out quietly.

“Albus only wanted this used if absolutely necessary, but I believe this is the only way,” she said, letting go of me and reaching into her robe.

I blinked at her in confusion.  “Professor?”

She pulled out a chain, a tiny sand-timer dangling from the bottom.  Looping it around my neck, she looked me in the eyes.  “This is a Time Turner, allowing you to travel back in time.  You’ll need to return to the year 1945,” she told me.  “There is a young man there by the name of Tom Riddle.”  She looked back to where the battle had taken place, the sound increasing.  “He will become Lord Voldemort.”  Her gaze turned back to me, holding a shine of sternness, as well as concern.  “You need to go back and change him for the better.  It will save many lives.”

“Professor, I can’t-”

“You must, Miss King.  There are no other options.”

“But why me, Professor?”

She regarded me for a few moments.  “You will know, dear.”  Her eyes dropped to the time turner.  “The protection charm around that has been taken off, allowing you to go back more than five hours.  Take it and turn it backwards fifty times.  That should take you back to the right year.”

The noise got louder.

The Headmistress turned to me.  “Hurry, dear.”

I nodded, grabbing the time turner.  I began to spin it, counting up to fifty.  Once done, I looked up, staring at the castle wall in front of me.

It was similar to the wall I had been in front of before, though this wall was intact and clearly newer.  It possessed less scratches and burn marks.

Students walked past me and I quickly realized I stood out like a sore thumb.

Muttering a quiet “multicorfors” I waved my wand over my garments, making them look appropriate to the time period.  I stuffed my wand back in my robe, looking around.

Where to start?

A group of students walked by me.

I quietly slipped into step a few paces behind them, looking around casually in an attempt to not seem like I was obviously following them.

They unknowingly led me into the Great Hall, sitting down at their tables.

I stopped in the doorway, looking around for the Gryffindor table.  Spotting students wearing red ties, I strode over, trying not to seem suspicious.  Sitting down, my gaze raked over the room.

The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were behind me, the Slytherin table in front.

I scanned the Slytherin table for anyone that looked suspicious or evil.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary, I frowned, about to pause my search to eat, when my eyes landed on a boy seated amongst the Slytherins.

He was sitting up straight, talking with the people around him.  He had a lean figure, dark hair that fell over his forehead on one side and features that looked- at least from where I was sitting- like the perfect blend of soft and hard.

I stared at the boy for a few moments, completely sucked into his demeanor and appearance.

He was talking to the people around him, looking at one of his housemates.  His expression shifted slightly and he lifted his eyes, his focus landing almost instantly on me.

“-looking at?”

I whipped my head to the side to face the girl sitting next to me, grateful for the interruption.  My cheeks coloured slightly, no matter how much I tried to fight it.  “Me?  Nothing, I was just-” my eyes, quite without me telling them to, drifted back to the Slytherin table for only a fraction of a second.

They didn’t even have enough time to focus on anything.

“I have an idea…” one of the girls, sitting across from the other, said.  She smirked as she stabbed something with her fork.

“What?”  I recoiled.  “I was just getting used to my surroundings,” I said.

It was technically half true.

“I thought I didn’t recognize you,” the other girl said.  “Are you new to Hogwarts?”

I paused.  “Yeah.”

“What year are you,” she questioned.

“Seventh year.”

“It is a bit unusual for someone to join Hogwarts so late in their schooling,” the other said.

I cleared my throat.  “Well, I was transferred from a different school…..” I trailed off before quickly introducing myself.

“Nice to meet you, King.  My name is Margaret,” the girl sitting diagonally from me spoke.  She nodded her head to the girl sitting next to me.  “This is Joan.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Joan greeted.

I nodded.  “The pleasure is mine.”

“Class will be starting soon…” Margaret informed.  “Do you have your books?”

I faltered.  “Uh…no, I-I don’t.”

“You can borrow ours,” Joan assured.  She nodded her head at the brunette across from her.  “Margaret and I always sit next to each other.  You could sit with one of us, if you wish.”

My eyebrows furrowed.  “How many students can sit at a desk?”

“Two.”

I turned my head to Margaret.

She went on.  “You can sit with Joan.  I will find another seat.”

“Oh!  No- I can’t.”  I lifted my hands.  “I would hate to split you two up.”  I shifted my gaze between them.  “Is there an empty desk behind you?”

“There is.”

“Then I’ll sit there.”  I shrugged.  “No worries.”

They gave me confused looks.

I frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“You…” Margaret trailed off.

“You say things in a most unusual way, King,” Joan said.

I pursed my lips.

Oh yeah.

“I… apologize,” I said, though it sounded more like a question.

They smiled.

“Come.  Let’s head to class.”

I followed their lead, standing with them.

A lot of other students were rising to their feet as well, presumably also heading to their classes.

My gaze drifted once again to the Slytherin table, seeing the boy already standing, scanning the crowd.

His eyes met mine again.

I quickly snapped my head back towards my classmates, wincing slightly at the pain my neck had received for it.  Following their lead, I stubbornly kept my gaze intentional, only allowing it to drift to the halls of the school, so familiar and yet so strange.

“Our first class is Potions,” Margaret informed.

I grimaced behind her back, quickly wiping the expression away when Joan turned around to face me.

“It is taught by Professor Slughorn,” she added.

I nodded, taking in the information.

The girls pushed the door open, stepping through.

“We usually sit here,” Margaret informed, gesturing at a desk in the middle of the room.  She turned to me.  “Are you certain you would not prefer to sit with one of us?”

I nodded.  “Positive.  I’ll just sit behind you.”

“Here.”  Joan reached into her bag, pulling out a book and handing it to me.  “Use this.  Margaret and I will share.”

I accepted the thick book, making a mental note of the fact that Potions textbooks seemed to stay about the same size, even decades apart.  “Thank you.”  Sitting down behind them, I placed the book on the desk before leaning forward.  “What page are we on?”

“Three-hundred forty seven,” Margaret whispered back.

I thanked her, turning to the correct page, guessing that the book was probably close to seven hundred pages.  Looking up, I noted that this class period was shared with the Slytherin house.

Once everyone was seated, Slughorn started speaking.

“We are picking up from where we left off last time.”  His gaze raked across the classroom.  “Chapter-” he paused, his eyes landing on me.  A confused expression formed on his face.

I did my best to keep sitting tall, my leg bouncing anxiously.

“Do we have a new student?”

All eyes in the classroom turned to face me.

I held my head high, determined to not cower under the weight.  I kept my eyes locked onto the man at the front of the class.  “Yes, Professor.”

He hummed.  “Curious.  I was not informed we would be getting a new student.”

“A mere mistake I’m sure, Professor.”

“Most likely.  What is your name, then?”

I introduced myself, eyes unintentionally shifting downwards slightly towards the dark haired boy seated at the front of the class.

He, like everyone else, was already looking at me.

I quickly raised my eyes to Professor Slughorn again.

“-sit with Miss King for her first lesson?  In case she needs any help?”

The boy turned to his teacher.  “Of course, Professor.”

With abject horror, I watched as the boy collected his things, walked towards the back of the classroom, and sat next to me.

I looked back to the front of the class.  “Professor, this really isn’t necessary-”

“The Head Boy will willingly assist you if needed, Miss King,” Slughorn said.  “If you get along well on your own, should he so choose, he may return to his own seat.”

I held in a sigh.  “Yes, Professor.”

“Good.”  He turned his back to the class to look at the chalkboard behind him.  “As we were talking about in the last class…”

I ran a hand through my hair, reaching for my quill to start to take notes.  My hand closed around nothing and I lifted my eyes to look at where my quill was supposed to be, only to get a foul reminder.

I wasn’t where- or rather when- I was supposed to be.

I had no supplies.

Deciding I would rather try to memorize what Slughorn was saying instead of asking the boy next to me for anything, I folded my right arm on the desk in front of me, staring towards the front of the class.

“You might want these, Miss King.”

I turned to the soft noise on my right.

Merlin, even his voice was lovely.

At closer proximity, I could better make out his features, greedily noting that everything- his eyebrows, lips, nose- were perfect.

His dark green eyes were staring down at me, shifting between my own.

Before I stared too long I- with some effort- pulled my gaze away from him to look at the parchment and quill he had slid towards me.

My eyes widened slightly.

“It seems, Miss King…” he trailed off and I could hear the smirk in his voice, “it was good luck that I was sent to sit next to you.”

I lifted my head to look at him.

He was, indeed, smirking.  His green eyes shone with kindness and just a hint of mischief.

“Thank you,” I said, grasping the quill and beginning to write as I tried to focus on what Slughorn was saying.

Merlin, that didn’t stop my leg from bouncing, though.

~~~~~~~~~

Class ended and I stood, handing the quill back to the Head Boy.

He looked up at me, still sitting, his gaze dropping to the object.

“Thank you for allowing me to use your quill,” I said, holding my notes at my side.

The boy lifted his gaze to meet my eyes.  “You may keep it,” he said as he stood, forcing me to now look up at his tall frame in order to meet his eyes.  He slung his bag around his shoulder.  “I have more.”

I nodded once.  “Thank you.”

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards.  “You are welcome, Miss King.”

“Come on, King,” Joan said, grabbing my arm.  “Our next class is this way.”

I gave one last look at the Head Boy, nodding my head again to signal a ‘farewell’ and a ‘thank you’ before allowing myself to be led out of the classroom.

~~~~~~~~~~

“This is Transfiguration, taught by Professor Dumbledore.”

I faltered in my steps, stopping in the hallway.

Professor Dumbledore.

It had been so long-

“...you alright, King?”

I blinked back into reality, looking over at Margaret and Joan’s concerned faces.  “Uh, sorry.”  I offered them a crooked grin.  “Go on; what were you saying?”

They talked, but I didn’t listen.  As we strode into Transfiguration class, my eyes instantly made their way to the front of the room.

A man was sitting behind a desk.  He had long white hair and a very welcome face.

“Professor Dumbledore,” I breathed out, relieved to see someone familiar.

To see the man that had been killed.

“Yes, that’s him,” Joan said.

“Here is the book for this class.”  Margaret handed me a textbook, which I accepted, though not really paying attention.

“Thanks,” I managed to get out before sitting in the only open seat; next to a Ravenclaw.  My eyes stayed locked onto the Professor as he began teaching.

~~~~~~~~~~

“And this is the Common Room,” Margaret said, leading me through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

I smiled slightly at the familiar face before being pulled in.

The room, though possessing some similarities to the Common Room in my own time, had notable differences.

The arrangements of the furniture were different, the furniture having a far older style than what I was used to.

“It’s very nice,” I said, observing the room.

“Our rooms are up these stairs,” Joan said, gesturing.  “Do not attempt to go up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.  They are charmed.”

I nodded.  “It was the same way at…” I paused, “my other school.”

Margaret turned to face me.  “Where were you before you transferred?”

“Uhh…it was very similar to this, but it was a small school,” I bluffed.  “You probably wouldn’t have even heard of it.”

They nodded, satisfied.

I let out a small breath of relief as they began to move around the room, introducing me to my other housemates.  I greeted them all, smiling.

“Follow us,” Joan said, walking towards the stairs.  “We will see if we can find your room.”

“Did Headmaster Dippet say which dormitory was yours,” Margaret asked.

I froze, eyes wide.  “No…no, he didn’t.”

“Oh dear.  This may be a problem.”

“I can go ask him,” I said, realizing that I had yet to officially announce my…transference, anyway.

“We will go with you.”

“No!”  I shot my hand out before quickly retracting it and lowering my voice.  “No, it’s okay.  It’s getting late, and I don’t want you out past curfew.”

“But do you know the way,” Margaret questioned.

Assuming Dippet’s office was in the same location Dumbledore’s was, I nodded.  “I’m sure I’ll find it.”  I began backing up towards the door.  “If I’m not back before you girls go to bed, have a goodnight!”

“You as well,” they said, waving.

I turned, exiting the Common Room.

Alright.  Time to find Dippet’s office.

I began walking through the castle, making mental notes of the differences and similarities between this Hogwarts and mine.  As the duration of my walk lengthened, I began to wonder why I was even doing this.

I didn’t need to sign in to Hogwarts.  I didn’t need to take notes in class.  And I certainly didn’t need to start forming attachments to young men.

I didn’t have time to be distracted, no matter how gorgeous that distraction happened to be.

I had one job to do.

I had to find Tom Riddle.

I had to kill him.

“Miss King.”

I jumped at the sound of the voice, whipping around.  I couldn’t make out who was approaching me, since the castle was getting dark as evening came upon it.  Pulling out my wand, I held it out in front of me.  “Lumos.”

A light shone at the end of my wand, illuminating the boy that stopped in front of me.

My eyes widened.  “Merlin,” I breathed out.

It would be him.

The Head Boy raised an eyebrow, cocking his head.  “Curfew has begun, Miss King.  I do not wish to take points away from you on your first day, but-”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted.

He closed his mouth, looking over at me.

I could see a flicker of surprise, and possibly annoyance, in his eyes at being cut off.  “I was just on my way to see Headmaster Dippet,” I explained.

The Head Boy’s expression shifted, becoming more curious.  “Oh?”

“I realized he never told me which dorm was mine,” I said.

The boy didn’t need to know that I hadn’t actually been accepted into Hogwarts yet.

That would have been very suspicious.

“I see.”

A beat of silence passed between us.

“Then let me escort you.  If any other Prefects find you alone, you likely will lose points.”

I nodded.  “Thank you.”

The Head Boy pulled out his wand and flicked his wrist slightly, a light appearing on the end of it.

My eyes widened.  I hadn’t heard him cast ‘lumos’.

The boy gestured and began walking.

I fell into place beside him, increasing the speed of my steps to keep up with his longer strides.

We walked in silence for a few minutes before the boy broke it.

“Why have you transferred to Hogwarts so late in your wizarding career,” he questioned.

“I have a job to do,” I replied without thinking.  My eyes widened as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

He turned to look down at me, regarding me curiously.  “What is the nature of your job?”

I floundered for a realistic response.  “My parents just thought that the school I was previously at wasn’t preparing me well enough for a career.”

“A career?”  The boy was silent for a moment.  “Most witches your age hope for marriage out of school.  There are few who wish to work.”

“Well…” I pursed my lips.  “I guess I’m one of the few.”

The boy hummed.  “We’re here,” he said.  He turned to look at the gargoyle.  “Strawberries.”

The gargoyle spun, revealing the staircase.

I looked over at the Slytherin.  “Thank you.”

“I’ll wait until you’re done.”

“That’s really not necessary-”

He smirked.  “So you keep saying.  But as I said, if you want to avoid losing points, I will need to accompany you.”

I looked at him for a few moments before nodding, heading up the stairs.  Once at the top I looked around, noting that the office was very similar to Dumbledore’s.  “Headmaster Dippet,” I called out.

A man with long white hair and a short white beard and mustache emerged from behind a pile of books.  His eyebrows furrowed.  “Yes?”

“My name is King, sir,” I said.  “I was transferred to Hogwarts today.”

The Headmaster sat down at his desk.  “It is very late in the day to be transferring, Miss King.”

I swallowed nervously.  “It was a late decision, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Very well.”  Pulling out a quill and parchment, he asked “what are your parents’ names, dear?”

I froze, trying to remember the names of my great grandparents.  “Edward and Dorothy King, sir.”

He nodded, writing the names down.  “What school did you transfer from?”

I listed the first school that came to mind.  “Beauxbatons, sir.”

He nodded again, writing some more.  “That’s a good school.  Why did you transfer?”

I fisted my robe sleeves as my leg began to bounce.  “My parents thought I would be more suited here.”

He looked up at me, saying nothing.

I pursed my lips.  “Professor?”

Reaching into his desk, he pulled out more papers.  “I see you have already been sorted into Gryffindor…”

“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” I said.  “He saw me earlier…”

The headmaster hummed.  “He made no mention of it to me.”

“Probably just an oversight, sir,” I said quickly, beginning to sweat.

Merlin, who knew trying not to be caught in time travel would be so difficult?

“Probably.  Very well, Miss King.”  He reached over his desk, handing me a piece of paper.  “This is your dormitory room.”  He stepped around the desk, leading me back down the stairs.  “I will show you to the Common Room-”

“There’s no need for that, Headmaster.”

We both turned to the voice, seeing the Head Boy standing right where I had left him: in the middle of the hallway.

“I already volunteered to take Miss King back.”

“Ah, Mister Riddle,” Dippet said, clearly pleased.  “Excellent.”

My eyes widened and I nearly choked on my own saliva.  All the blood drained from my face and my heart began to beat erratically in my chest.

Dippet placed his hand on my back and shoved me gently towards the tall boy.

I simply stared up at him, at a complete loss for words.

There was no way-

“Hurry along, Mister Riddle,” Dippet encouraged.  “I’m sure Miss King would like to go to bed at a reasonable hour,” he said, smiling before turning back towards his office.

“Goodnight, Headmaster,” the boy- Riddle- said.

“Goodnight, children.”

Once the gargoyle closed, the boy looked down to meet my gaze.

I didn’t think I had moved in the last two minutes.

Let alone breathed.

“Are you ready, Miss King?”

I finally blinked.  “Riddle?”

He stared at me, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.  “Yes.”

I opened my mouth again, my voice wavering.  “Tom Riddle?”

His eyebrows furrowed further.  “Yes.”  He looked at me curiously.  “Why?”

“I…” I trailed off.

What was there to say?

The silence stretched on and he narrowed his eyes at me.

I blinked at him.

His eyes widened and he leaned back slightly, standing up taller than he had been before.  “You’re the hero, huh?  I guess that makes me the villain.”  He lowered his head, stepping further into my space.

I took an instinctive step backwards.  “You should already know you’re the villain,” I muttered, amazed that I was able to speak, let alone say something so bold in my current state.

“You’ve come to kill me,” he whispered.  “Tell me…where…exactly…are you from?”

I took another step back.

“If you don’t tell me, I can still get the information,” he insisted darkly.

“Stay out of my head,” I warned, with more strength than I felt.

“Everything alright here?”

Tom and I turned towards the voice, seeing two Prefects standing in the hallway.

Tom turned his body mostly towards them, moving away from my space and returning to his full height.  “I was escorting Miss King back to her Common Room.  She just got her dormitory direction from Headmaster Dippet,” he explained casually.

My eyes widened in horror at the speed in which he effortlessly swapped personalities.

“Very well,” one of the Prefects said.

“Enjoy your trip,” the other said with a wave as they walked away to continue their routes.

When they were out of sight I broke into a full sprint down the hallway.

I had no plan.  My body was moving purely on instinct.

Where could I go that would be safe?

I didn’t have time to think.

He could easily catch up.

Running through the halls, I turned a corner and was promptly whipped backwards.  I fell into a chest, trying to rip my arm free of the hand that held it.

Tom’s long fingers and firm hold were making it difficult to break his grip.

“Let go of me!”

Tom lowered his head.  “Be quiet.”

“No!”  I went to reach for my wand, but Tom’s other hand shot forward, fingers wrapping around my wrist and keeping both of my arms in his hold.  I struggled against him, but it was no use.

“Why are you here to kill me,” Tom demanded.

I continued pulling against him.

“Answer me, witch!”  His eyes flashed red, his face contorting into one of anger.

I froze, chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.  My wrists hurt and my body was tired from fighting against his hold.  “Because you’re a monster,” I spat.  “Because in my time you’ve killed countless people,” I panted, glaring up at him.  “Because I have to stop you.”

Tom said nothing for several moments, studying me closely.

I defiantly met his eyes, knowing he could use Legilimency if he wished.  He already knew half of it, anyway.

“Am I the most powerful wizard in your time?”

I glared.  “No.”

“Who is,” he demanded, his hold on my wrists tightening.

I lifted my chin, looking at him proudly.  “Dumbledore.”

Rage flashed across Tom’s face.  “Impossible.”

“It isn’t.”  I stared at him, unwavering, even though I felt like my heart was being squeezed.  “You’re going to lose…Voldemort.”

He stared at me, his chest rising and falling harder and faster than it had been.

Then he smirked, an aura of confidence washing over him.

“If I am truly going to lose, why did you come back in time to stop me?”

“To try to reduce the number of deaths,” I half-bluffed.  “Just because you get defeated in my time doesn’t mean we should let you get away with all those murders.”  I glared at him.  “I know I’m too late to prevent the deaths of Myrtle, some of the other students around here, and even others, but what I can try to stop, I will.”

“So you’ve come to kill me.”  Tom raised an eyebrow.  “Did you really think you would be able to?”

“That wasn’t my mission.”  My eyes narrowed at him.  “It was just the one I chose.”  Reeling my leg back, I swung it forward, kicking him in the shin.

He doubled over.

I kneed him in the nose.

He let out a yell as blood began to run down to his chin, his hands loosening enough in surprise that I managed to wiggle one of mine free.

Grabbing my wand as fast as possible, I aimed it at him.  “Stupefy!”

He shot backwards, back colliding with the castle wall before he hit the ground.

Walking over and rolling him onto his back, I held my wand as his throat.  I looked at him, his unconscious body laying on the floor.

Kill him.  Do it.

My grip on my wand tightened.  Foolishly, my eyes raked across his softened features.

Even as blood trickled from his nose, I couldn’t help but think the annoying thought that he was breathtaking.

The two sides of my brain fought each other.

Now’s your chance!  It would be such a pity to destroy something so beautiful.  Avenge all he’s done!

I ground my teeth together, hand shaking as I pointed my wand at him.

Save the world!  Save your friends!

Don’t destroy him!  Do what you were told to do!

End it!

Do the right thing!

Ending him is the right thing!  Stop him from causing harm to others!

Murder is never right!  Change him to become a better person!

You can’t change him!  He’s too far gone!

You don’t know that!

I let out a yell, jerking my arm towards the wall alongside Riddle.

A flash of light emerged from my wand and struck the stone.

Parts of it crumbled, falling alongside the unconscious boy.

I stared down at him for a few moments, heaving breaths.

I had to go.

He could wake up at any moment.

Giving him one final glance I ran towards the Common Room and didn’t look back.

Announcing the password I rushed in, sprinting up to my dorm.  Opening the door as quietly as I could, I sped in, hurrying onto my bed.  I sat on it, hugging my knees to my chest as I stared at the door.

I couldn’t afford to sleep.

He might come for me.

~~~~~~~~

I shakily made my way to breakfast the next morning, creeping around every corner to make sure Tom wasn’t there.  I sat down at the Gryffindor table, only a few students in the Great Hall this early.  Having had no sleep, I decided I would at least get something to eat and try to work through my thoughts.

Now that I hadn’t killed Riddle, what was my next plan?

Should I try again to kill him?  He would definitely be watching me, now.  He knew that I knew.

Should I try to convert him?  Easier said than done.  He’s already committed crimes, and I already attacked him.

Merlin, what did I get myself into?  Why didn’t I just kill him when I had the chance?

No, I scolded myself.  You did the right thing.

Even if it was for selfish, and admittedly, stupid reasons.

Alright.  Tom Riddle was alive.  I allowed Voldemort to live.

I could only hope I wouldn’t come to regret it.

In my time, the situation couldn’t get much worse anyway, so what the heck?  Might as well see where this takes me.

I pushed the eggs on my plate around with my fork, being hungry and yet not possessing an appetite.

“Miss King.”

My head shot up, gaze locking onto a pair of green eyes.

“Riddle,” I greeted coldly, my throat tight.  “How’s your nose?”

He glared as he sat down across from me.  Ignoring my question, a smirk formed on his face as his gaze scanned me.  “Did you sleep in your uniform, King?”

I frowned, mentally cursing myself for forgetting to cast a glamor charm.  My clothes were quite wrinkled.  “I didn’t sleep, actually.”

“Is that so?”  A crooked grin formed on his face.  “And why is that?”

I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes.  “You’ve killed for less.”  I left it at that, knowing he understood the subtext.

He hummed.

I raised an eyebrow.  “Why are you here?”

“For information.”

I let go of my fork, letting it clatter slightly as it connected with my plate, and crossed my arms.  “About what?”

“My future.”  He inclined his head towards me slightly.  “You.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Oh, I think there is.”  He leaned forward, lowering his voice.  “If you came to kill me, why did you not do so last night?  I was unconscious…” he trailed off, sitting more upright.  “You had the opportunity.”

I regarded him silently.

What was the best way to respond?

I was never very good at figuring out what to say in delicate matters like this.

It was made even worse by the fact that what I said could drastically impact the lives of countless people, myself included.

“I couldn’t,” I finally said.

Tom raised an inquisitive eyebrow and sat up even straighter.

He clearly had not been expecting that.

“And why not?”

I looked towards the doors of the Great Hall to avoid him using Legilimency on me again.

I did not want him using anything to his advantage.

“I somehow managed to convince myself that you were capable of saving.”  I allowed myself to look back at him.  “That you were worth saving.”

He stared at me silently, keeping his expression very guarded.

“You’re a very bright wizard, Tom,” I said.  “Powerful, too.  In the right place, you could do great things.”

“I will do great things,” he insisted.

“You will do impressive things,” I corrected.  “But they will be evil.”  I sat up straighter.  “For your own selfish end.”

His eyes briefly flashed red and I saw his face twitch as he tried to control his expression.  “It’s natural for me to look out for my own interest,” he said, voice slightly tense.

“At the cost of everyone else?”  I rolled my eyes.  “How typically Slytherin.”

His eyes narrowed.  “And I suppose it’s very Gryffindor to run headfirst into something without actually planning it out.”  He scoffed.  “Is it also a Gryffindor trait to retreat out of their task so foolishly when their opponent was helpless before them?”

I felt my anger boiling up.  “I spared your life!”  I whisper-yelled, conscious enough of the few other students in the room.  “The noble thing to do.”

“Because you are so focused on being noble, aren’t you?”

“I don’t send giant snakes to do my killing for me, you miserable boy,” I hissed.

“They weren’t worth my time.”

I slammed my hands on the table, pushing myself to my feet in a hurry as I glared daggers down at him.  “I should have done the job!”

Riddle stood as well, towering over me as he snarled back.  “If you had any brains, you would have!”

The room fell completely silent.

My chest took in air at an irregular rate, and I noticed Riddle’s breathing was also unusual.

We refused to look away from each other.

“Your ‘perfect boy’ image is slipping, Riddle,” I whispered, raising my eyebrow challengingly.  “Tread lightly.”

“I was about to give you the same warning.”  His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer.  “You do not want to make an enemy of me, King.”

I met his eyes, a determination and fury flowing through me.  “You were my enemy before I got here.”

Tom’s jaw clenched.  

The doors to the Great Hall opened, students beginning to flood in.

Riddle cast me one last glance before turning and making his way over to the Slytherin table.

I let out a relieved breath, plopping back down on the bench.  I watched Tom as he sat down, being joined by his housemates.

They all talked animatedly around him, but Tom seemed…distracted.

“Hello, King.”

I turned, seeing Margaret and Joan.  “Good morning.”  The words sounded tense, bordering on rude, to my own ears.

Margaret followed my previous line of sight.  “Looking at the Head Boy again?”  A teasing smile formed on her face.

I crossed my arms, scowling.  “I resent that.”

“Hopefully she’s studying the enemy.”  Joan turned to me.  “You had better be coming up with ways to win the House Cup this year,” she remarked.  “Slytherin’s won the past several years because of that boy,” she said, nodding towards Tom.  “Everyone loves him.”

I looked back over towards the dark haired boy.  “How... lovely,” I sneered.

The girls shared a look.

“Did you manage to find your dormitory alright,” Margaret asked.  “We never saw you.”

The blood began draining from my face as the memories from last night came back.  “Yeah.  It’s not with you two, though.  By the time I got back from Headmaster Dippet’s office, everyone was already in bed, and I got up early.”

At the sound of a few claps I turned my head to the right to see the Headmaster trying to get everyone’s attention.

I thanked Merlin for the distraction.

“Good morning, students,” he greeted.  “Normally I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast, but I believe some point adjustments need to be made.”

My eyebrows furrowed.

“Last night one of the Prefects found Tom Riddle with some injuries,” he began.

All of the color drained from my face and my blood ran cold.

“Our Head Boy was walking back our newest student,” he gestured at me, announcing my name.

I felt faint as all eyes turned to me.

“Riddle has brought it to my attention that when he was walking Miss King back to her Common Room, a troll attacked them, injuring Tom and breaking the wall.”

I was certain the astonishment on my face was evident.  Eyes wide and eyebrows to my hairline, I stared at the Headmaster in bewilderment.

“The Head Boy is certain that Miss King chased the troll out of the school while he was indisposed, saving everyone.”  Dippet smiled.  “For her bravery on her first evening at Hogwarts, saving the Head Boy and the rest of the school, I award Miss King with fifty points.”  He began clapping, everyone else following his lead.

I whipped my head around to look at Riddle, the only one besides myself not clapping, meeting his eyes in confusion.

“I needed to give them some reason for my state you so rudely put me in,” a voice in my head said.

The voice was proper, smooth, yet stern, and so clearly Riddle’s.

I ignored the clapping, keeping my focus on the Slytherin.  Why didn’t you tell them the truth?

“If I had told them the truth, I would have had to tell them why you attacked me, wouldn’t I?  I could have lied, saying you simply lost your temper or felt that I threatened you, but questions about me would arise, wondering what I would have done to warrant such a response from you.”  Tom sat up straighter in his seat, arching an eyebrow as he kept his eyes locked onto mine.  “You pose no threat to me.  You can’t tell anyone what you know without sounding like a deranged lunatic, especially after being here for only a day.”

I struggled to think of an appropriate response.

A hand on my back and a voice right by my ear had my head turning to my left, seeing Joan and Margaret smiling at me.

The connection between Riddle was broken, a sharp twinge in my head causing me to wince slightly.

“Why did you not tell us?”  Margaret asked excitedly.

“I…” I trailed off.  Looking down at my plate I hesitantly lifted a forkful of eggs into my mouth to buy me some time while I thought.  I forced down a gag at the unwanted food.  “I didn’t think it was important information,” I offered weakly with a shrug.

“It’s most definitely important,” Margaret insisted.  “You saved the Head Boy.”

I grimaced at the thought, looking back down at my plate.

“The entire school,” Joan corrected, eyeing her friend.

Margaret looked over to the dark haired girl.  “Well, obviously, but the Head Boy was more immediate.”

I lifted my gaze, keeping my head down, to look at the Slytherin table.

Tom was staring in silence at his own plate.  Unlike my shuffling of the food on mine, he simply looked down at his, his arms crossed and resting on the table.

What was he thinking about?

Was he thinking of killing me?  Would he decide to kill Dumbledore, since I told him that he was the most powerful wizard in my time?  Was he plotting a murder of someone else?  Was he actually thinking of changing?

I put my elbow on the table, holding my forehead in my hand.

Merlin, this was too much.

“Are you well, King?”

I turned to the girls.  “Just a headache,” I excused.

Technically, one was beginning to form at the number of questions and stress of it all.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Margaret said.

“Hopefully it goes away soon,” Joan remarked.  “Potions will be starting in only a little while.”

I groaned.  Here I was, supposed to save the Wizarding World, needing to attend class.

As if I needed more problems in my life right now.

Rubbing my forehead, I sat back up and ate a little more.

Did I want it?  No.

Was I going to regret not eating?  Yes.

Managing to get through half of my breakfast, I stood with everyone, making our way to Potions.  As I took my seat, accepting Joan’s book, I made a mental note to buy some textbooks since, apparently, I would be here for a while.  Flipping to the page we left on last time, I went to pull out some paper to take notes on, but paused.

I mentally added parchment to my shopping list.

The noise in the room got louder as more students filed in, taking their seats.

At the sense of someone sitting beside me, I turned, eyes widening at the figure there.

Oh, yeah.

I had been so concerned about avoiding Tom Riddle’s possibly murderous intentions I had forgotten that he sat next to me in Potions.

Though, I did recall that he didn’t have to.

“Miss King,” he greeted, passing me more parchment as he kept his eyes toward the front of the class.  His gaze remained there, even as he asked “do you still have the quill I gave you?”  He finally turned to look at me.

I nodded.

He turned his attention to Professor Slughorn as the man began writing on the board.

My eyebrows furrowed.  I leaned towards him slightly.  “What are you doing?”

He glanced at me.  “Preparing for class.”

I rolled my eyes.  “I meant sitting here.”

He smirked.  “Only to keep up pretenses, Miss King,” he insisted quietly.  “It casts a good image for the Head Boy to assist the newest student.”

I scoffed, sitting upright again and turning back to my own book.  My eyes roamed the page, pretending to be interested in the words.  “Everything’s all about pretenses with you,” I mumbled.

I didn’t bother looking at his reaction.

~~~~~~~~~

I made my way into Hogsmeade, treading the streets slowly.

Merlin, I really had no idea where I was.

The shops all looked so different from my time.

My heart tugged slightly and I frowned.

My time.

How long was I going to be in this cursed place?

However long it takes to do something about Voldemort, I reasoned with myself.

Letting out a huff, I kept walking, peeking my head into shops to see what they were.

“Looking for something, hero?”

I turned at the sound of the voice, seeing a blond standing on the sidewalk.

Tom Riddle stood slightly in front of him, towering above the boy.

The blond smirked at me.

My eyebrows furrowed, my questioning gaze unintentionally shifting towards Riddle.

Tom nodded his head towards the boy.  “This is Avery.  He’s one of my friends.”

I gave him a disbelieving look, cocking an eyebrow.

Tom lifted his head slightly, tilting his chin up a little in defiance.

I turned to look at Avery.  “I’m not a hero.”  I crossed my arms.  “Whatever Riddle said, it’s not true.”

Avery raised an eyebrow at the accusation.

Tom’s expression remained stoic, but I could see his features harden slightly.

I sighed.  “Look, could you just tell me where to purchase some parchment and textbooks?”

“You don’t know,” Avery asked incredulously.

“I’m not exactly from around here.”  My eyes drifted to Tom before turning back to the blond.

Avery chuckled darkly.  “You could just look around and find out for yourself.  Get more acquainted, you know.”

“That’s what I was doing before you interrupted,” I retorted.

Tom nodded his head towards a store, clasping his hands behind his back.  “I believe you’ll find your desired things in there, Miss King.”

“My desired things, huh?”  I scoffed, beginning to walk towards the building.  “I doubt it.”

~~~~~~~~~

I sat in the library, scratching my head as I stared down at my Transfiguration textbook.  I wasn’t focusing on the words, though.

I was trying to figure out how to get through to Riddle.

I didn’t want to seek him out, but I had to do something.  I couldn’t just wait around for things to happen on their own.

But how does one get through to a psychopathic murderer?

“You’ve been staring at that same page for ages.”

It took a few moments for me to realize that I was the one being spoken to.  Looking up, I locked eyes with my guest.  My stomach caught in my throat.  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Riddle,” I muttered, looking back down at my book.

He sat down across from me.  “I understand; Professor Dumbledore is such a dull teacher.”

I lifted my head to look at him, a glare crossing my features.  “Professor Dumbledore is an excellent teacher.  He’s an excellent mentor and an excellent man.”

Tom sneered.  “I would have sooner compared him to a vulture.  He’s always watching me.”

“Gee,” I deadpanned at him, “I wonder why that is.”

His eyebrow twitched upwards; in challenge or annoyance, I couldn’t tell.  “There’s no evidence of anything I’ve done.”

“Maybe you just seem evil to him.”  I crossed my arms.  “He’s a good judge of character.”

Tom smirked at me.  “Unlike yourself.”

I looked at him in silence for a few moments.  “I can judge someone’s character.”

“Perhaps, but you must not be very good at it.”  He pulled out a book, flipping to a random page to feign studying.  “You left the Dark Lord alive, remember?”

A pang of guilt and rage rushed through me.  “I told you why.”

“But I don’t believe it.”  He lifted his head to look at me.  “Gryffindors are noble, but they’re also headstrong.  If they make up their mind to do something, it takes a lot to get them to change their mind.  And what could be more noble than avenging the deaths of so many?”  He leaned forward.  “So.  What made you change your mind?”

“You’re so smart.”  I leaned forward in my own seat, narrowing my eyes at him.  “Figure it out.”

Tom stared at me for a few moments before letting out an incredulous chuckle and sitting upright.  “Surely you wouldn’t let something as mundane as physical attraction sway you.”

My face broke into a harsh heat and I leaned back in my seat.  Having no response, I simply scoffed and averted my attention to another student searching the shelves for a book.

Tom continued to stare at me in silence.

I could feel my face getting warmer at the attention.

The awkward prolonged quiet wasn’t helping, either.

I took a deep breath, trying to fight off the sweat that had formed a thin layer over my skin.  I practically willed my cheeks to lose some of their red color.

Merlin, they rivaled a Weasley’s hair.

Turning my glare towards the Slytherin sitting across from me, I crossed my arms.  “You didn’t kill me, either.”  I nodded my chin towards him.  “I know your secret.  I’m a threat to your cause.  I could expose you for what you really are.”

“You can’t expose me, remember?  No one would believe you.”

“Dumbledore would.”

His confident smirk was replaced by a frown, his eyebrows pulling together.  His form tensed, sitting more rigid than before.  He looked to the side.  “Dumbledore is a fool.”  He met my eyes again.  “He can’t do anything to me.”

“So you keep saying.  But I’m not convinced.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed at me.  “Are you trying to get me to kill you?”

“No.”  I shrugged one shoulder.  “Just trying to figure you out.  You said you were keeping me alive for information.”

“A true statement.”

I leaned forward.  “Then use Legilimency.  Read my mind and find out all you want to know.  Then you would have no reason to keep me alive,” I challenged.

Tom’s eyes shifted between my own.  “It’s too easy.”

I rolled my eyes, sitting upright again.  “Sorry, I didn’t know that taking over the world was a sport to you.”

He regarded me silently.

When the silence stretched on, I looked back down at my textbook.  “What are you doing here, anyway?  Are you following me or something?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

I glanced up at him before returning my attention to the page in front of me.  After rereading the same sentence eight times I huffed, closing the book and staring in annoyance at the cover.

Transfiguration: Third edition.

I chewed on my lip before stuffing the book in my bag and standing, marching out of the library.

~~~~~~~~~

I steeled myself, knocking on the door.

“Come in,” a voice from inside called.

Pushing open the wooden door, I stepped into the office.  “Professor Dumbledore?”

“Ah, Miss King.”  A small smile appeared on the man’s face.

Merlin, I almost cried at the sight of it.

“Please,” he gestured, “have a seat.”

“Thank you, Professor.”  I sat down in the chair facing his desk.

“What can I do for you?”

“Professor, I was wondering…”  My leg began to bounce.  “I was wondering what you could tell me about… about Tom Riddle.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose.  “What would you like to know about Tom?”

“Anything useful.”

Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow at me.

My leg bouncing increased speed.  Surely, I could tell Dumbledore what was going on?  In my time he was dead anyway, so it wouldn’t have an impact later?

It was flimsy logic, but it was all I had.

I huffed.  “Professor, I’m from the future.  I was sent back from the year 1998.”  Reaching into my robe, I pulled out the time turner to show him.

His expression remained mostly impassive as he simply looked at the object before lifting his gaze to me.  “All but two time turners in the world only take the wearer back at a maximum of five hours.”

“This one was altered by the person who sent me back,” I explained, trying to be as vague as possible.

He didn’t need to know everything.

I fisted my altered uniform roughly, twisting the fabric in my hands.  “Professor, I was sent here to change the past.  To save everyone that Riddle kills.  But I’m not a hero.”  I let out a humorless chuckle.  “I’m starting to wonder if I’m even a Gryffindor.”

“Why would you not belong in Gryffindor?”

I lifted my eyes to meet his.  “I had the opportunity to kill Tom Riddle, before his acts got too carried away…but I didn’t.  I cowered out of it.”

Dumbledore hummed.  “Oftentimes, killing is the easy solution.  Especially if Tom becomes as bad as you say.  It is simple to end someone that would cause so much harm.”  He looked at me meaningfully, with a warm smile and a kind look in his eyes.  “Sometimes it takes more bravery to spare a life.”

I bit back tears and nodded.  I cleared my throat.  “What should I do, Professor?  How do I change a killer?”  I moved in my seat, sitting on the edge of the chair.  “How can I get through to him?”

“I do not know everything about Mister Riddle,” Dumbledore informed.  “He grew up in an orphanage.  His mother died when he was very young.  His father abandoned him.”  Dumbledore clasped his hands, resting them on the desk.  “There must be a reason that you specifically were sent here, Miss King.  Use your judgment.  Find your own way.”

I sighed, looking down and nodded.  “Thank you, Professor.”  I stood and exited the office.

My own way, huh?

~~~~~~~~~

What the frick was my way?

I briefly considered the option of holding my wand to his throat, demanding he fix his mistakes or I’d kill him, but I quickly reasoned that wouldn’t work.

No matter how much I wished it did.

I had been in 1945 for a few weeks, but it felt like I had been here for a number of months.

And I was making no progress.

My grades weren’t even very good, since I had other things on my mind.  I had never been a good multitasker.

Merlin, I was seriously doubting Professor McGonagall’s choice in sending me back.

I had no idea what I was doing.

Alright, then.  I’d wing it.

I stood from the chair in the Common Room, making my way to the door.

“Curfew starts soon, King,” Joan warned, looking up from her book.

“I know.”  Without looking back, I pushed the portrait open and closed it behind me, making my way to the dungeon.

I never liked the dark, and this part of the castle seemed to soak it all up.  Thankfully, I could still see.  Reaching the door to the Slytherin Common Room I paused.

I didn’t know the password.

And with curfew starting soon, Riddle might not have even been in the Common Room.

I chewed my lip.

Thankfully, the door swung open on its own.

I froze as a figure walked out, not sure if I should be relieved or not.  “Avery,” I greeted.

The blond looked up at me, his steps halting.  “Hero?”  He raised a judgmental eyebrow.  “What are you doing at the Slytherin Common Room?”

“Looking for Riddle.”

Avery watched me for a few moments.  “He’s inside.  He’ll be starting to patrol soon.”

“Can you get him?  I need to talk to him.”

Avery thought for a few moments before retreating into his Common Room.  He emerged shortly after, Riddle in tow.

Avery walked down the hallway, doing whatever it was he was going to do before he saw me.

Tom closed the door behind him, looking down at me in a manner similar to Avery’s.

It was different, though.

Tom was studying me.  Trying to figure me out.

He raised a silent, questioning eyebrow at me.

I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in my own skin.

I cleared my throat.  “Can we talk?”

His other eyebrow rose in surprise.  “I’m going to begin my rounds soon-”

“I know; Avery told me.”  I looked up at him.  “But I need to either sort this out or go home.”

Tom’s expression shifted ever so slightly.  “You would go home?  Even if your goal was unaccomplished?”

I shrugged one shoulder.  “If I can’t do what I was sent to do, there’s no point in hanging around a time that isn’t mine, is there?”

Tom regarded me silently for a few moments.  “No.  No, I suppose not.”

I gestured at him.  “Especially with you graduating soon, I’m going to lose a lot of contact with you.”  I cracked a small smile.  “Unless I apply for a job at the same place.”  I tilted my head, my smile growing.  “But I kind of doubt I’d get it, since I would only have about two months of proof of my existence, so…”

The corners of Tom’s mouth raised slightly.  He nodded, looking down the hallway.  His gaze drifted back to meet my eyes.  “Walk with me.”

I fell into step beside him, needing to jog a little initially to catch up to his long paces.  Once I settled into a rhythm that would keep me next to him, I relaxed, turning to look up at his side profile.  “Do you like being the Head Boy?”

He turned his head to look at me, a confused expression overtaking his features.  “What?”

“You heard me.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking forward again as he turned corners without much thought.

I figured he must have memorized his paths at this point.

“It gives me power, but also responsibility.”

“So, yes and no?”

He looked down at me.  “Did you come to talk to me about something as dull as this?”

I shrugged, turning my attention forward as we rounded another corner.  “I just wanted to talk to you about anything.”

He kept his expression guarded.  “Trying to discover my weaknesses?”

I frowned as I thought for a moment.  “Not really.”  I looked up at him.  “I don’t think your feelings on your Head Boy duties are particularly useful insights into the darkest parts of your mind,” I admitted.

His eyes flickered down to me very briefly before looking ahead again.  “Was there anything else?”

I pursed my lips.  “I didn’t really have anything in mind.”  I looked back towards him.  “Just…tell me about yourself.”

A skeptical look overtook Tom’s features as he continued to stare ahead, resolutely not looking at me.  “You’re trying to get me to reveal something.”

I could see it behind his eyes, though.

Vulnerability.

“Tom…” I sighed, looking up at him.

He finally looked down at me.

I frowned.  “You’re far too cynical.  Is it so hard to believe I just want to get to know you?”

Tom raised an eyebrow.  “You did try to kill me.”

“And I haven’t for almost a month now,” I reminded.

Tom’s eyes shifted to the floor for a few beats before he looked forward again.  “I still don’t trust you.”

“Nor I, you.”

~~~~~~~~~

I tugged at my hair, looking down at my Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

“Is something wrong, King?”

I looked up, seeing Tom sit across from me.  “My grades are slipping because I’ve been a little…preoccupied.”  Pursing my lips, I let out a small huff.  “And Defense Against the Dark Arts was never one of my strong suits,” I remarked, gaze returning to my book.

“Well, fortunately it’s my best subject.”  Tom stood, moving around the table to sit next to me.

I felt heat creep up my neck at the proximity.

He placed his hands on the table, his robe sleeve brushing mine, looking over at the pages I had flipped open.  “What have you been struggling with?”

Merlin, how was anyone supposed to think with Tom that close, let alone focus.

“Uhhh.”

Tom looked down at me, his green eyes peering into mine.

My breathing picked up, chest rising and falling at a faster rate.  I studied his face for a few moments, gaze dropping briefly to his lips before quickly averting my eyes to stare down at the textbook.

King, what do you think you’re doing!?  Pull yourself together!

I forcibly cleared my throat.  “Uhhh,” I repeated, my voice even weaker than it had been.  I let out a strained chuckle, holding my head in my hand.  “Merlin, Tom.”

“Are you alright, King?”

I looked over at him, only to turn even redder at seeing the smirk on his face.

“Should I take you to the healer?”  His eyebrows quirked upward almost mockingly.  His features shifted, feigning concern.  “I don’t believe that shade of red is normal.  Or healthy.”

I glared, the expression holding no actual anger, and swatted him in the arm, looking back to my book.  “I hate you.”

He let out a breathy chuckle before pulling the textbook closer to him so he could see it better.  Gesturing at it, he looked back at me.  “What’s confusing you?”

An affectionate smile graced my features.

I didn’t even have the thought to gasp in horror at the action.

~~~~~~~~

“No, that’s purely a defensive spell.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, scratching down a note as I took a bite of toast.

Tom sat next to me, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

“I think some of these spells should be more versatile,” I muttered, finishing writing and sitting upright.

“Unfortunately, we cannot decide.”

I looked up at Tom.  “Bummer, really.”  I huffed out a sigh.  “I guess we just have to focus on what we can control.”

Tom’s gaze dropped slightly.

I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Indeed,” he said.

I blinked at him for a few moments before pointing at a sentence in my book.  “But, does-”

The sound of the doors in the Great Hall opening brought my attention to them.

I sighed as students flowed in.  Looking back to Tom, I frowned.  “I wish there was somewhere private we could meet.  We aren’t in the same house, so we can’t even both be in the same Common Room.”

Tom hummed.  “The library is only available for certain hours, as well.”

I nodded, pursing my lips.  “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”  Closing my book, I looked back at Tom as I put the textbook back in my bag.  “Thanks for all your help.”

Tom chuckled briefly.  “It’s a wonder you made it to seventh year in your time.”  He stood from the Gryffindor table, looking down at me.  “I can only assume that magic has gotten even more complex in future decades.”

“The style of writing is different.”  I sent him a crooked grin.  “Less pompous, if you ask me.”

He scoffed.  “Less professional, you mean.”  He turned around, returning to the Slytherin table.

I smiled at his back for a few moments before returning to my breakfast.

“How are you, King?”

I looked up, seeing Margaret sit across from me.  “I’m doing well, how about you?”

She smiled.  “I’m ready for the day.  Our finals are in only a few weeks, but I feel prepared.”

Groaning, I put my head in my hand.  “Don’t remind me.  This Defense Against the Dark Arts stuff is killing me.”

“You seem to be doing better in class,” she remarked, pouring herself a cup of pumpkin juice.

I smiled softly, the image of Tom Riddle appearing in my head.  Clearing my throat, I looked up at the Gryffindor.  “It’s a miracle, Margaret.”

~~~~~~~~~

“I’m ready to go to sleep,” Joan remarked, heading back to the Common Room for the evening.

“It has been a long day,” Margaret agreed, readjusting her grip on the books she held to her chest.

“I’ll probably be up for a little bit,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair with a huff.  “I need to do more studying.”

“Miss King.”

The three of us turned to the voice.

I involuntarily smiled at the sight of the Slytherin.  Nodding in greeting, I managed to wipe most of the smile away.  “Mister Riddle.”

My housemates were looking between us suspiciously.

Tom turned to the two girls.  “May I borrow her?”

They exchanged glances before nodding at the Head Boy.

Tom smiled.  “Wonderful.”

I looked at the girls and waved.  “I’ll catch up with you later.”

They waved back before continuing to head towards the Common Room.

I turned back to Tom, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly.  “Borrow me?”

He smirked back.  “It worked, didn’t it?”

I shook my head, chuckling.  “What did you need?”

“I wanted to show you something.”  He gestured for me to follow him, which I swiftly did.

I didn’t even realize I no longer had trouble trying to match his pace.

“I found somewhere I think we could meet,” he said just quietly enough so that no one but me could hear.  “I had read something about it and began to research.”  He turned a corner, stopping in front of a wall.  He stared up at it.  “It’s called ‘The Room of Requirement’.”

My eyes widened.

Of course!

“Brilliant, Tom.”  I turned, seeing the familiar door begin forming on the once-blank wall.

Once the door had fully appeared, I walked forward, opening the door and stepping inside.

I paused, looking around.

“Is something wrong?”

My gaze raked the room.  “It’s just different from my time.”  I chuckled, observing the couch and two chairs surrounding a small table.

A fireplace sat a few paces away, filling the room with warmth.  A red rug covered the floor, a bookshelf in the corner of the room.

I chewed on my lip.  “I suppose it’s for a different use, though.”

“What do you use the room for in your time?”

The voice was so close I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I looked over my shoulder, seeing Tom standing behind me.  My gaze raked his features.  I forced my voice to remain steady.  “Practicing spells.”  I drew my gaze from him to look around the room again.  “It’s usually much more open than this.”

Tom hummed before moving from behind me to stand by the small table.  “I thought this would be a good place for us to study,” he remarked casually, running his hand along the back of a chair.

I watched the action before lifting my gaze to meet his eyes.

He met mine at the same time.

“It’s very cozy in here.”  I walked towards him, sitting down on the couch.  “I might do more sleeping in here than studying.”

Tom sat down next to me.  “I will not let you sleep.”  He looked over at me.  “Not with the end of the semester so close.”

I huffed.  “Right.”  Sighing, I pulled my school bag off my shoulder, dropping it on the floor next to me as I pulled out my DADA book and set it on the table, turning to the right page.  “Now… where were we?”

~~~~~~~~

“Correct.”

I sighed out in relief, leaning back against the familiar couch, running my hands along my face.

“You really are doing quite well,” Tom said from beside me.

I let out a short chuckle.  “Only thanks to you.”  I dropped my hands to my lap, looking over at the Slytherin.  “There’s only one week left until exams.”  I scooched forward on the couch so I could better reach the table, looking down at my textbook.  “With all of this new information, my brain may explode.”

“I think that is unlikely.”

I chuckled as I turned to look at Tom, only to freeze, my breath catching in my throat.

He was looking down at me, a warm glint in his eyes.  A beautiful glow was being cast on part of his face from the fire, contrasting the dim lighting of the rest of the room.

The sounds of the crackling embers filled my ears.  The smell of wood flooded my nose.

A warmth overtook me as I looked between Tom’s green eyes.

My heart twinged.

I gasped slightly, looking away.  My eyes wide, I held my head in my hands as I tried to calm my breathing.

This can’t be happening.

“King?”

I felt the couch shift as Tom leaned closer to me.

“Are you alright?”

I looked over at him, meeting his concerned eyes.  I let out a tiny quiet, albeit strained, laugh.  “I’m alright, Tom.”  My gaze dropped to his lips, lingering there for far longer than I had intended, getting caught up in mentally tracing their shape.

I briefly wondered how they’d feel.

I groaned, falling sideways on the couch, my hair splayed out on the cushion.  I hid my face in my hands.

What in Merlin’s name was wrong with me?

Sighing, I turned, lying on my back as I stared up at the ceiling.

He’s the Dark Lord, he’s the Dark Lord, he’s the Dark Lord, he-

I closed my eyes.

The Dark Lord would never help the woman sent back to kill him with her homework.

My eyes opened, seeing Tom looking down at me.

His face was contorted into one of confusion as his gaze raked my form before meeting my eyes again.  He quirked an eyebrow.

I chuckled, sitting up again.

“Is everything okay?”

I smiled at the Slytherin.  “Yeah.”  My gaze drifted between his curious eyes.  “It is.”  Slowly, I reached my right hand up.

His gaze went to it, watching for a few moments, before his eyes returned to mine.

I carefully placed my hand on the side of his face.

He took in a sharp inhale, eyebrows pulling together and eyelids fluttering.

I gently rubbed my thumb over his cheek, reaching my left hand up and placing it on his shoulder.

He stared into my eyes with so much emotion I could barely stand it.

I leaned forward slowly, watching him intently for any indication of rejection.

He swallowed hard as I got closer.

When I was just a few inches from him, I met his eyes.

They were large, looking alarmed, but I didn’t find any dislike.

I slowly closed the gap, my eyes fluttering closed unintentionally the moment our lips met.

Merlin, his lips felt so perfect against mine.

My hand on his shoulder shifted, dragging across his back to cradle the back of his head.  My fingers threaded through the hair, loving the softness.

A tug on my waist brought my attention to the weight of his hands on my hips.

I broke the kiss slowly, desperately needing air, and rested my forehead against his.  I continued to play with his hair as I panted for breath, my eyes still closed, afraid that if I opened them the moment would be gone.

For the first time in a long while I could finally hear Tom’s breathing, nearly as ragged as mine.

I felt a gentle nudge against my lips and kissed back, my right hand taking place at the back of Tom’s head to replace my left hand, which had traveled down to Tom’s left shoulder.  My arm laid completely across the back of his neck and shoulders, pulling him towards me with such force I fell backwards onto the couch, Tom following.

I opened my eyes as I pulled away, looking up at him.

He panted from above me, eyes drifting between my own.

Shifting my right hand, I brushed some of his fallen hair out of his eyes.  “I think I love you,” I whispered.

His eyes widened and he froze, his breathing seeming to stop altogether.

But perhaps it did.

As much as my head screamed at me that this was Voldemort, the Dark Lord, the killer of dozens, it didn’t feel true.

I could never feel this way about Voldemort.

Tom Riddle was a different person.  He shared the same anger issues, hurts, wishes for something better for himself, but he wasn’t so malicious.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, cradling his jaw again.  “You don’t need to say it back if you don’t want to.”

Tom’s wide eyes searched my own, as if in disbelief of what he’d heard.

I chuckled, reaching both arms around his back and pulled him down, laying him on top of me.

He tried to use his forearms to support his weight, but I forced his entire body onto me, enjoying the fullness of his presence.

Letting out a content sigh, I wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back.  I turned my head, placing a kiss on his temple before we stilled, just listening to the sounds of our own breathing and the fire, feeling nothing but each other.

~~~~~~~~

Tom hadn’t spoken to me since yesterday.

While he normally would spend some time eating breakfast at my table before most of the students came in, he marched straight to the Slytherin table, an expression on his face that I had never seen on him before.

He didn’t look quite confused or angry, but he didn’t look happy or sad either.

The best guess I had was that he was trying to figure out what to do after our last…interaction.

To be fair, hearing those three dangerous words from someone not from your own time sent to kill you would probably send me for a loop.

I slowly ate supper, doing some thinking of my own.

I had caught him looking at me multiple times today, but that was hardly surprising, or even helpful in finding out what was going through his brain.

It was doing little to calm the anxiety that had seemed to settle in my stomach and reside there all day.

“King?”

I looked up, seeing Margaret and Joan looking at me expectantly.  “Sorry, what?”

“What are your plans after you graduate?”

I let out a small chuckle at the irony, looking back down at the food on my plate.  “I’m not sure.”  My gaze lifted to find the Head Boy.  “I guess that depends.”

Margaret caught it and she gasped, clasping her hands together.  “Are you going to marry Tom Riddle!?”

My fork slipped out of my hand, clattering against the plate as my eyes widened.  “Shhh!”  I narrowed my eyes at her.  “Merlin, Margaret, people can hear you.”

She grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

After a beat of silence, Joan looked over at me.  “Well?  Are you?”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.  “I don’t know.”  My leg began to bounce and I brought my hand down, placing it on top of my knee in an effort to stop its movements.  “I don’t know what we are.”  I looked over at him.  “I don’t know if we can.”

Can you marry someone from the past?

“We didn’t think you and Tom were that close,” Joan admitted carefully.  “I know that you would often disappear, but we didn’t know why.”

“He’s helping me study for the upcoming exams,” I said, gaze dropping back to my plate.

“Is that all?”

I glanced over at Margaret.  “I don’t know.”  Putting my hands on the table, I stood.  “I’m going for a walk.  I’ll see you both later.”  Stepping away from the table, I marched out of the Great Hall, not once looking back.

~~~~~~~~

I simply had to ask him.

Two days had gone by without anything from the famous Slytherin.

I sat at breakfast, trying to figure out when the best time to approach him was.

He didn’t even come into the Great Hall early like he usually did, instead coming in surrounded by his followers amongst the flood of other students.

“Attention, students,” Headmaster Dippet spoke.  “Your final exams begin today and last throughout the week.  To avoid cheating, only one house at a time will take their exams so that everyone can have their own desk.”  His gaze raked across the tables.  “Your schedules are posted on the classroom doors.  Now,” he gestured, “enjoy your breakfast.  And good luck.”

I ran a hand through my hair as he sat back down.

Alright.  Approaching Tom before our exams was out of the question.

Maybe I could catch him in the hallway.

I then had the thought that talking to the most famous boy in school about our love life in the middle of a likely-busy hallway was not my best idea.

After class, perhaps?

He might have Head Boy duties, or something.  He’d probably run off to his Common Room as soon as he could, anyway.

Merlin, this was giving me a headache.

Sighing in temporary defeat, I pulled out my textbook to begin studying for my first test.

Maybe focusing on something else would clear my head.

~~~~~~~~

By Friday I was determined to track this man down, even if it meant breaking into the Slytherin Common Room.

It had been a whole week since we had spent that evening in the Common Room.

Merlin, it just was my luck that the first person I broke down walls for, confessed my feelings to and was intimate with would be from fifty years ago, and it just would be Lord Voldemort- the man that I had been sent to kill- and of course he would avoid me at any possible cost afterwards.

You couldn’t write this stuff.

As soon as I handed in my test for grading- briefly noting that there was no way I did as well as I would have liked given my mental state- I sprinted out of the classroom as quickly as I could, making a beeline for the Slytherin Common Room.

If I had to wait there for hours, I would see Tom Riddle.

He couldn’t run forever.

And so, I waited.

Because it was Friday, the last day before graduation, there was only one exam today in order to give the teachers enough time to grade everything.

Tom wouldn’t be long.

I waited outside their door for two hours, at some point sitting down because my feet were beginning to hurt from standing on the stone floor.  At the sound of voices, I looked up, rising to stand.

Tom, naturally, led the pack; taking up the front.

He looked away from one of his followers, eyes landing on their door before his gaze drifted to me.

I don’t think I had ever seen Tom Riddle look nervous before.

“King,” he addressed in a false sense of calm.

I could hear the slight waver in his voice.

Cocking an eyebrow, I resisted the urge to cross my arms.  “Riddle,” I replied in a cold tone.

He let out a harsh, silent breath, glancing away briefly before meeting my eyes again.  “What are you doing here?”

“Hunting for snakes.”  I allowed my arms to cross.  “They tend to hide when they get scared.”  I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes.  “You haven’t seen any, have you?”

Whispers broke out amongst the Slytherins behind Tom.

He looked over his shoulder, wordlessly silencing them with only an expression.  Turning back to me, he faltered for a moment.

I had clearly caught him off guard.

He was getting sloppy.

I mentally patted myself on the back.

Surely if Tom was going to end up as Voldemort he would have kept alert, right?

At his prolonged silence I raised an expectant eyebrow.

“What’s the wait for?!”  Someone from the back yelled.

I looked towards the back of the group before meeting Tom’s gaze again.

He huffed, rolling his eyes slightly.  Looking back to me, he finally found his voice.  “We were going to celebrate the end of the year…” he trailed off, hoping I would get the message.

If he thought I was going to succumb to his not-so-subtle hint to leave, he had another thing coming.

I scoffed.  “You’re not.”

“We’re not?”

“You’re not.”  I nodded my head towards the group behind the Head Boy.  “They can do what they please.”  I looked back to Tom.  “But you owe me a conversation and some time.”

He watched me for a few moments.

I refused to back down.

Tom sighed, nodding.  He gestured for the rest of his housemates to go in, quietly announcing the password.

When we were finally alone I remained silent, wanting him to crumble a little under the dread of what would come out of my mouth.

Frankly, I didn’t even know what I was going to say.

After a few moments he cleared his throat, drawing his shoulders back and holding his head high to stand to his full height.  He looked at me, raising an eyebrow, but I could see the flicker of fear behind his eyes.

I waited a few beats before asking the first question.  “Do you realize how horrible this week has been for me?”  I scoffed.  “Merlin, Tom, we graduate tomorrow- I worried I would never see you again.”

His gaze dropped to the floor.

I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.  “Look, if you regret it- if you regret me- then you should have just come out and say it.”  I looked to the wall, terrified of meeting his eyes.

Silence stretched between us, feeling so suffocating I considered leaving to get some fresh air.

But I couldn’t.  Not now.  Not when I finally had him.

“I don’t.”

It was so quiet I barely heard him.  I finally turned my head to face him, meeting his gaze.  I eyed him, trying to find any indication of a lie.  Finding none, I continued.  “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I needed some time to think.”

I tried to swallow the lump that formed in my throat, but was unsuccessful.  “And?”  I managed to croak out.

He grew silent again.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say he was toying with me intentionally.

My eyebrows pulled together as I searched his eyes.  “Tom?”

He took a deep breath.  “I want you to stay.”  He straightened his posture again.  “I want you to stay with me.”

I swore my heart stopped.

Time seemed to halt around me.

I opened my mouth, trying to respond, but I found I had no idea what to say.

Did I want to stay with him?  Could I stay in a time that wasn’t my own?  Was he completely cured of his evil endeavors?

I blinked away my thoughts, squaring my shoulders.  “And your…plans for the future?”

He went silent, though he held my gaze.  “I never had anyone love me before,” he finally settled on saying.  “I didn’t think I was capable of the feeling, myself.”  He took in a large, shaky breath, but kept his eyes on mine.  “I’m willing to give up my aspirations for you.”  His eyebrows quirked up in vulnerability.  “If you’ll have me.”

I was rendered completely and utterly speechless.  All thoughts of an appropriate response fled my brain.  I looked down, trying to think, when I caught sight of his hands at his sides.  I lifted my head to meet his gaze.  “And the Horcruxes?”

He grimaced.  “I haven’t destroyed them, yet.”  He lifted his hand to look at the ring that hugged his finger.  “I’m not looking forward to it.”

“It’s going to hurt,” I confirmed, walking towards him to look at the ring.  Reaching my hand out, I stroked the gem, making a mental note that he let me.  I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes.  “That’s what happens when you split your soul apart.”

He sighed, nodding.

I clapped my hand on his chest good-naturedly.  “Be glad I caught you when you’ve only made two.  I imagine it hurts worse with each split.”

Having nothing to say, he simply nodded again.

I chuckled, holding his large hand between both of mine.  “So…” I grinned up at him, “you’ll get a good job because you’re so smart, I’ll get the best job I can, being in a different time and everything, and we’ll go from there.”  I gently patted the top of his hand.  “How does that sound?”

He smiled.  “It’s a start.”

I chuckled, stepping completely into him and wrapping my arms around him.

His arms came around me, settling on my low back.

I let out a small laugh.  “How on earth did I do this?”

Tom pulled away slightly to look down at me.  “Do what?”

“Tame the Dark Lord.”  I chuckled.  “I still don’t know what Professor McGonagall was thinking.  I have no idea how this worked.”

Tom thought for a moment.  “By being yourself, I suppose.”

I hummed.  “Sounds flimsy.”

Tom huffed a chuckle and I grinned, looking up at him.

Reaching my right hand up, I once again cradled the side of his face.

He closed his eyes, leaning into it, before he opened them to look down at me.

We both leaned forward, meeting in the middle, and our lips connected, slotting into place.

My heart danced in my chest as I ran my hand through his hair before pulling away to look up at him.  “I love you.”

He smiled down at me.  “I love you, too.”

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

A/n: Holy moly, this is so long.  54 pages.

This was actually really hard to write.  Trying to make Tom Riddle redeemable is easier said than done.  I got stuck multiple times when writing this, trying to figure out how to best progress in a way that was realistic and moved the story and their relationship forward in a believable way.  He's also so nuanced that I reworked a fair number of his lines to try to sound as much like him as possible.

I went back and edited some things multiple times because I noticed that I was writing King coming at the problem from a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff way, so I had to try to adjust it to make her more firmly Gryffindor.  She still has moments of traits from other houses, but that's normal, so.

There's a couple things in the story that I didn't outright say, but wanted to share anyway:

-Tom WAS following King (in Hogsmeade, the library, etc.) to keep an eye on her, because she DID defeat him and could have killed him if she wanted.  While he never admitted it, he did view her as a threat.

-Dippet's password being "strawberries" I made up/guessed, because Dumbledore had started a rumor that Dippet had planted strawberries on the castle grounds, likely meaning the Headmaster was fond of them.

-Doing some research, I found that Abraxas didn't actually go to school with Tom, but Avery was one of the few Death Eaters that were confirmed to.

-Tom reacting so strongly to physical affection just made sense to me.  Especially growing up in an orphanage, that boy is definitely touch-starved.

-Tom avoiding King to think also seemed fitting, since he was new to love and he had to battle between a woman and all of the plans he had been crafting for years.  I think it's realistic that he would have tried to give himself space and time to weigh his options, and even not wanting to seek her out to tell her.

-Tom didn't see an issue announcing the password to the Slytherin Common Room in front of King because it was the last school day, so she couldn't use it after they graduated, anyway.

Anywho.  That was a lot. Hope you enjoyed.  Make sure to let me know what you thought!  I'm curious if you thought I did our dear Tom Riddle justice.

Petrichor [13]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 19,197

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort (i know!!), manipulation (canon), gaslighting, jason being drugged against his will (canon), description of scars (jason has autopsy scars because i said so), mentions of the roof scene, mentions of gore?, mentions of death, mentions of withdrawal, self-deprecating thoughts (jason tried to walk off of a roof and titans never mentioned that again so we're going back to that mindset for him for just a second, there's no attempt or anything, just his thoughts), violence, blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of drug addiction (canon), drug use (canon)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I was writing the warnings and wow lmao poor Jason. I can't wait to write him a happy ending lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Maybe going back to the manor would be in your best interest. You could go there and lock yourself in your room, throw your technology against a wall and call it all good enough. No temptation to turn back around, no temptation to pick up the phones and hit redial, and demand it’s a mistake and you take it all back. It would be easier to go to the manor and tell Gar what happened because maybe Gar would tell you it was the wrong decision and none of you can give up on Jason. But, none of this has been easy so you don’t go to the manor. Instead, you go back to the Excellent Gotham, going up to the roof through the back where the crime unit doesn’t see you.

You ditch your phone and your necklace on the roof, figuring all of it will be safe for an hour. You hide everything under the radiator unit before you head back down and back to your bike. Then you drive to the one person who will not be so understanding of this entire mess but deserves an answer. And deserves to know what’s going on, just in case.

“Hey.” Molly greets, standing in her doorway.

Her hand rests on the doorframe, blocking you from inside while she wears a sowl. You look to your feet and then back to Molly, knowing this is going to be difficult. You're thinking your own guilt might fall into the air and suffocate you like carbon monoxide poisoning. Maybe that’d be less painful.

“I need to talk to you.” You state softly, tugging your sleeves over your blood-stained hands.

Molly scoffs, shaking her head as she keeps her hand on the door. It’s unbelievable. She knows Jason dying was horrible. It’s worse that you had to be the one to find him mangled and bloody. But, Molly cleaned his blood out of your suit and off of your hands. She cleaned his blood off of the bathroom floor that night all by herself. It was Molly that got you into bed with tear-stained cheeks and the smell of iron radiating off of you. It was Molly that had to take care of you instead of grieving for her friend. Molly didn’t see what you did but she didn’t have to because the blood across the entire bathroom and your traumatized demeanor told her everything and it was fucking traumatizing for her, too. Molly still tried to be there for you and you do what you always do. You run away from everything that hurts. That left Molly alone to deal with the loss of one of her best friends. Alone.

“You’ve been ignoring me for a week and now you want to talk?” Molly spits back. “I lost—“

“It’s about Jason.” You cut her off because you know you've been a shitty friend. You know. Molly hesitates, her eyes narrowing as she shakes her head. “You can yell at me all you want and you can slam the door in my face but I bet you didn’t replace your locks so I can just break in anyway.”

“Seriously?” Molly asks, unamused.

You shrug softly, sucking in a deep breath. “It’s important. I know, alright?” You gesture your arms out. “Just…let me fucking--”

“Is that blood?” Molly asks, seeing your hands.

You look down, blood staining your hands yet again. Your hands are shaking and you didn’t even realize it. When did they start shaking? Have they been shaking the whole time? When did the blood dry anyway? It feels chalky on your hands and it makes you grimace, shaking your head quickly.

“Uh…yeah.” You nod and you see Molly’s face soften. You swear you don’t deserve sympathy. “It’s not mine. It is why I’m here though.” You say softly. “Not Jason's either, to clarify.”

Molly raises a brow at the last remark, knowing it can’t be Jason’s on account of him being dead. But, she’s watching you shift your weight on your heels and your hands shake at your sides. Molly might be mad but she is also intrigued with what this could have to do with Jason and at the end of the day, she is worried about you. She knows your body count is up to four but she knows you would say it’s five. And that’s always concerning. So, she lets out a sigh and moves her hand, stepping aside so you can enter the apartment.

“I’m mad at you. But, fine. Say whatever it is.” Molly crosses her arms over her chest as the two of you stand in her kitchen.

“I’m sorry, okay? You were looking out for me and I just….couldn’t deal with it. I’m sorry for yelling and being mean. I know, I know you lost him, too. And I’m sorry.” You swallow thickly. “I just…” You shrug in defeat. If you're going to get Molly to listen to you, you need to tell her why you did it. “I think I thought I didn’t deserve your help, okay? Maybe that’s what it was. Like…” You pause, looking up to the ceiling. “Uh, ya know? I, uh, I couldn’t look out for Jason when he really needed it so I didn’t fucking deserve it. I don’t know. But I’m fucking sorry because you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know.” Molly nods, softly as her brows furrow. As mad and as hurt as she is, she never wants you to feel like you don’t deserve help. No one should feel that way and it wasn’t even your fault. “Why would you think you don’t deserve help?”

You grit your teeth. “Oh, well, that’s part of what I get to tell you.” You roll your eyes. “He just…” You chew the inside of your cheek. “He has saved my life more than once and…I couldn’t fucking save him. And I should have seen it and I didn’t. I should have been there for him and I wasn’t…not in the way he clearly needed. He did….so much for me without ever knowing it, I think and I just…couldn’t repay him. So…I took it out on you and Gar and Dick and everyone. And I’m just really fucking sorry.” Your voice cracks.

There’s a fear creeping into the back of your head and for a reason you don’t quite understand, you think about the anti-fear drug. It would be easier to have this conversation if you had it. But you don’t. You have to suck it up and it sucks. It’s making you think you were too hard on Jason for making and taking the drug in the first place. You snapped and went after him and maybe you were too hard on him because he was suffering and he wanted a way out without taking a way out. He just wanted help and to be Robin. It’s all he ever wanted, to be fearless so he can do the one thing everyone thought he was best at. You think about the drug because all you want right now is to stop running from everything that hurts and that scares you so you can stop hurting other people. The people that care about you. Maybe you were too hard on Jason for it.

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you. I did what I always do. I know. And I’m sorry. And some shit fucking happened and it just…got so fucking messy and I’d have to lie to you and I couldn’t do that. But…” Your rambling pauses. “I have to tell you because it’s not fucking fair to you and uh…I’m just…scared and tired of keeping secrets. But you can’t tell anyone.”

Molly lets out a breath as she watches you tug your sleeves down over the ligature scars. They’re fading, slowly. But they are fading and it doesn’t excuse you for being a shitty friend but…this can’t be easy. Molly puts herself in your shoes. You're uprooted from the only thing you've ever known and then tortured and given powers. Molly knows you always hated the idea of having powers. It was always good for other people but no thanks for you. Now you're stuck with them and not even by accident or by your own doing but by your abuser. You're then thrown into being a vigilante. Something you never quite understood why someone would do. Why risk your life for other people who don’t give a fuck about you? And then Jason. It’s not right but… things haven’t been easy.

“Okay.” Molly nods softly. “But, you need to get help for your own shit, okay? It’s not fair to me, you’re right.”

You nod quickly. “Trust me, already thought about that.” You scoff. You should have followed in Jason’s shoes. You should have taken Bruce’s advice and just talked to Leslie.

“Okay so…what’s going on?” Molly asks as she uncrosses her arms, resting one hand on her hip.

“Jason’s alive.” You spit the words out so fast Molly nearly misses them.

“That’s not funny.” Molly shakes her head but her voice lacks any and all venom.

“Yeah.” You scoff. “That’s what I said but he is. Long story, not mine to tell. But he’s alive. He’s Red Hood.” You explain, keeping it short.

Molly nods her head once, realizing that’s why Red Hood dropped Deigo off. That’s how he even knew about the missing kids. It’s because Red Hood is Jason. That explains a lot while also explaining almost nothing.

You nod softly. “Yeah, he killed Pete Hawkins.” Sam states as if you could see Molly putting pieces together.

“And you knew?” Molly asks as you watch her eyes start to glass over.

“He asked me not to fucking tell anyone and I told him he had to tell you and Gar because you’d both hate me if you guys knew I knew and didn’t say anything.” You shake your head and while that’s true, that does not stop the guilt from turning your stomach. “But shit is hitting the fan and…I don't know when he plans to tell you and I’m tired of keeping his secrets.”

Molly’s brows furrow as she’s taken aback by everything. Jason is alive and comes back as a crime lord. That’s already weird but now you're standing here saying you're tired of keeping his secrets. You're nothing if not loyal to the people you love and Jason is very high up on that list of people.

“Okay, hold on.” Molly closes her eyes for a second as she tries to process everything. “So, he’s alive but he doesn’t want anyone to know? Instead, he decides to become Red Hood? And now you’re suddenly not on his side? What the hell is going on?”

You gesture your hands, waving them slightly with the roll of your eyes. “Mr. Drake was shot today, hit on Excellent Gotham.”

“Is he okay?” Molly rushes. “Why…wait. Jason…didn’t?”

“Uh….I don’t know. Tim’s gonna text me but uh, yeah it was Jason.” You suck in a breath and you decide you're just going to tell the story as quickly and as plainly as possible. It’s going a bit numb anyway. “Some sort of threat to Tim because Jason is working with Scarecrow to make an anti-fear drug. Jason left the formula and it was coded. I figured it out, Jason figured out that I had to go to Tim. I only even went to Tim thinking Jason wouldn’t think I would do that. But, of course he did because he knew I’d never be able to look you in the eye and not tell you he’s alive. So, yeah.”

Molly blinks a few times as the room falls silent. When you said it was about Jason, you really could have prepared her a little more for this. What the hell is going on and how is Molly supposed to just take all of this in? There’s a small part of her that wonders if this is just a fever dream.

“Can…can I wash my hands while you digest that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah…” Molly points to the kitchen sink while you walk over. “Why the hell are you so calm?”

“Probably shock.” You mutter. “Oh, and let me give you a rundown of everything that’s happened, literally this week. Jason’s alive so Dick and me dug up his grave. Fun. All of the Titans got mad at me and basically turned on me for knowing he’s alive. Ya know whatever. Then I remade the drug, got high, me and Jason then fought each other cause I went to confront him. While I was there, he was putting a bomb in Hank’s chest. I failed, blah blah blah, we all failed. Hank blew up. Me and Dick kidnapped Crane, then fought Jason again. They almost shot me so I fought both of them, then Babs got Dick shot. Then Excellent Gotham got shot up while I was inside and I killed 3 more people because Jason gave them the drug.” You say casually, the water almost overcoming your voice.

“There’s so much to unpack there.” Molly mutters softly and decides maybe she should sit down. She needs to figure out which part of that she wants to dive into first.

“Oh, yeah, it’s been a very eventful week. At this point, I think this is just my life. You know that little stuff I’ve been telling you about what happened?” You ask.

You told Molly bits and pieces of what happened to you, specifically over the last couple of years. But, you've also been very careful to avoid anything that could ever out any of anyone's vigilante alter egos. You've been very careful not to give anything too detailed away about what happened to Jason in San Francisco. You always kept a lot of the details to yourself, partially to keep secrets about everyone but also to spare Molly horrifying details. But, in order for Molly to understand everything that's led Jason here, she has to know the whole story. In every detail.

“Neglecting every important detail that would make your stories make sense, yes.” Molly quips.

“Right, well, you know Deathstroke?” You question and Molly nods slowly, already hating where this is going. “Well, when we got hurt together, yeah, it’s because Deathstroke and Dr. Light kidnapped us and then tortured us. Some vendetta against Dick. And uh, you know Jason’s limp he has sometimes? Yeah, Deathstroke dug the tracker out of his leg. Dropped us from a skyscraper, Conner saved Jason when he fell. Dick pulled me in. So, ya know, oh, the powers! Jerry, abusive fuck, yeah that’s all him.” You say with the nod of your head.

“You were both kidnapped by Deathstroke?” Molly asks, earning another nod. "And Jerry gave you powers?"

"Well, experimented on to give me powers to give himself powers, yes." You nod your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. "Not really relevant right now, but I figured I'd throw that in there."

You suck in a deep breath before you explain the story of Deathstroke to Molly. And the events that followed, this time in excruciating detail. Everything between being hit and Jason being choked. The two of you trying to defend the other only for it to be useless. You explain everything that happened outside of the skyscraper and then your talk in the bathroom that, up until this moment, has been just between you and Jason. Then you tell her about Jason walking out to the roof. You tell Molly every detail.

“That explains a lot.” Molly nods. “I knew he was different. I knew something bad happened over there but…” Molly's heart aches and she really wishes Jason could have told her or talked to her about it. She isn't sure she could have helped, but she would have tried.

“Yeah…” You nod your head.

“Why are you telling me now?” Molly shakes her head in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. I just…you asked why I’m so calm and I just think it’s my life now. And I think you should know. I think you need to know the whole story in order to understand any of it. It’s bigger than Bruce taking Robin away from him. You have to know the story and you’re the only one that doesn’t.” You shrug softly.

“Right, okay, yeah. That makes sense.” Molly nods her head before she decides to switch back to something else you said. Molly takes a seat at the kitchen table. “Wait, hold you, you made a fucking drug and then took it?!”

You glance at her as you shrug and then look back to the water. Everyone is so upset about that part of the story. “Yes. I’m fine. It was fine. Ya know, it wasn’t like…I didn’t die.”

“You’re an idiot.” Molly groans as she holds the bridge of her nose while you dry your hands.

“I’ve been told.” You nod your head as you lean against the counter, keeping the paper towels in your hands.

“I have so many questions.” Molly rests her elbow on the table. “Why is Jason working with Scarecrow? I mean, are you sure?” Molly isn’t sure why she asked. You and Dick literally kidnapped him, so you have to be sure but she just finds it so hard to believe.

“Oh, we are positive.” You let out a sigh. “Robin can’t be scared.” You grit your teeth, the anger bubbling back in your stomach like mixing pop rocks and pop. “It’s…Bruce made Jason feel like he was only ever good enough as Robin. And he made him and Dick sign a fucking contract about not being scared or something. I don’t even know. So, Jason gets fucking PTSD from Deathstroke because Dick got Deathstroke’s son fucking killed and Bruce sends him to therapy and then for some fucking reason, decides to just….take it away. Robin can’t be scared so Jason got immediate help, I fucking guess.” You sneer and you're still so mad at Bruce.

So much of this is on him and he just left. He left Gotham in the hands of the Titans as if they weren’t busy with their own shit. He leaves and Jason’s back but he wouldn’t know because he’s unreachable. His own son is back from the damn dead and he doesn’t even know. His other son is being hunted down and again, he doesn’t even know. Dick lost Jason, too but it was all about Bruice even though Bruce is the one who could have prevented this. He could have made Jason see he didn’t need to be Robin. He could have killed the Joker sooner. He could have just let him be Robin. There were options and Bruce always chose the worst one. You all let Jason down, but at least you and the other Titans are here unlike Bruce.

“Why…I mean…” Molly sucks in a breath, trying desperately to understand Jason. “So, he makes an anti-fear drug and I’m assuming it’s the opposite of the fear gas?” Molly asks while you nod. “So, he’s just…not scared.” Molly rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t feel anything else, does he? I mean…it’s why we can’t live without our adrenaline glands.”

You nod, walking over to the trash can to toss out the paper towels. “Yeah, it’s a little more complicated than that but yeah. It, uh, it’s like it gets rid of hesitance, ya know? And then you just….do whatever seems fun and it thrives off of anger. It doesn’t matter what you do either as long as you’re fighting. That’s how we fought. Neither of us really…tried. But, we did anyway and that’s why. So, uh, yeah. But, um….I think Crane is withholding it. It looked like he was going through withdrawal tonight.” You explain as you chew the inside of your cheek.

“He was actually there while Excellent Gotham was hit?” Hurt consumes Molly's voice as her brows raise.

“Yeah, outside. He didn’t know I was there. He didn’t see me, I guess but that doesn’t matter.”

Molly watches you carefully and as much as Molly wants to believe you're here out of the kindness of your heart to let her know about Jason, she also knows that is not the case. Everything is hitting the fan. You're friends with Tim and you both could have died. Jason is targeting the Titans. Gar is Jason’s friend, too. Jason knows you're always at Excellent Gotham. If he’s willing to target them, who else is he willing to target? You would not be standing here confessing everything if you weren’t scared and if something else didn’t happen.

Molly scolds your name as you walk over, taking a seat across from her. “Why are you really here? You didn’t come because I deserved to know. I know you.”

You shift in your seat. “If he shows up here, calls you, texts you, I need you to call me, Dick, and Gar, okay? Don’t let him in. I don’t think he’ll come after you because you’re his friend, too but…I also never imagined he’d ever target the Drakes.”

“He’ll know you came here.” Molly gestures a hand toward you, eyes darting to where the necklace normally sits.

“Ditched my phone and necklace.” You state. “I’m going back for everything when I’m done here and I don’t actually think that’s how he knew about Tim. I don’t think he’s tracking me or anything but yeah, I wasn’t taking that risk.”

“So, I just…call you guys?”

You nod. “Yeah, keep him here or on the phone until we show up. I’ll text you their numbers when I grab my phone. I just…want you to know. And uh, don’t…don’t go out of your way to contact him, please, okay? I really, really, want you left out of it. Crane is fucking insane. And I know he’s gotten into Jason’s head so Jason’s been trying to kill Dick. I think if Bruce were here he’d be going after him, too. I don’t know if the hit on Excellent Gotham was all Jason or Crane. I don’t know. The more people involved, the more people Crane can weaponize Jason against.”

Molly takes everything in and she’s starting to grow worried for Jason. If Jason is targeting the Titans, of all people, where is that going to leave him? Even if all of this is Crane and the drug, what’s going to happen to him? You're sitting here confessing everything to her which means, to some degree, you've lost hope in him. And that’s not something Molly ever imagined happening. Is there only one way for this to end?

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Molly asks quietly.

You shrug. “I don’t know.” Your eyes start to water. “I hope he uh, stops taking the drug entirely and uh…then he comes home but I don’t know.” You sniffle softly, biting down your own tears.

If Jason doesn’t stop taking the drug and he keeps working with Crane, that only leaves two options. Lock him up in Arkham or kill him. Not that anyone wants to do the second option, it’s just that Jason will force it. He won’t go out quietly or easily. It’ll be a fight to the death and you know that and you hate the idea of it. You think about everything you could possibly do to take the drug away. The only other thing is to try and kidnap him but, given your history, that just seems fucked up. You don’t want him kidnapped or in Arkham or dead. All you can do is hope he snaps out of it.

Molly nods softly before tilting her head to the right slightly. You're looking down at the table, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head softly before looking up at Molly. “I, uh, I ended things tonight.” You state as you watch Molly’s frown grow deeper. “And, I don’t mean it, I think we can get him back but, uh…I told him I gave up on him and I…regret it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Molly says and she knows it’s bad for you to even say it. You're usually careful with your words when you're angry. “Have you tried everything else? To get him back?”

“Everything. I’ve tried talking to him and fighting him and yelling and we tried to trap him. I tried defending him and…yeah.” You nod, the lump growing in your throat once more. “But…I promised him I’d never be like everyone else and I stood there and I did it anyway. I don’t fucking mean it but I just…he could have gotten me and Tim killed. His dad might die. It’s not really Jason but it’s just…I just regret it. He’d never do that to me.” There’s a crack in your voice as your eyes start to burn and turn a haunting shade of red.

“We’re not kids anymore.” Molly says sternly. “You can’t keep every promise you make. Jason has always been bull-headed. I’ve known him for years. If Jason is good at something, it’s pushing people away.”

“Yeah, I know. His self-preservation is just self-destruction in disguise. But...”

“No, fuck that. You just said he blew up Hank. He’s trying to kill Dick and he could have killed you more than once. He died and instead of coming back home to you or even crashing here for some reason, he became Red Hood. And that’s fucked up. I love Jason but what he’s doing is wrong and maybe he needs to hit rock bottom alone for it to make sense to him. You defend him against everyone and everything no matter what he does. Did you ever stop to think that the Deathstroke situation was his fault? You and Gar went along with the plan but Jason wanted to prove himself so you agreed. It was his fault. Sure, Dick had a hand in it and so did Rose and the other Titans. But it was Jason who didn’t listen. It was Jason who thought he was better than a group of Titans. It was Jason that got you both dropped from a skyscraper. But, you come back and you take the blame for some reason. Why? Because you didn’t tell him no? So? I met Gar and I don’t think Gar would have told him no with or without you. So, if it’s your fault, it’s Gar’s fault but you won’t say it’s Gar’s fault. It’s Jason’s.”

Molly isn’t going to let you beat yourself up over this again. You telling Jason you're done and you're giving up, that’s a huge thing. And Molly knows it. Molly would love to believe there is another way. Jason doesn’t handle abandonment well but if you're doing it, there is no other option. Jason needs to understand, in some way, that he can’t just take a drug and make everything okay again. That’s not how it works and it hurts people. He’s hurting himself and he’s hurting everyone else who cares about him. Maybe Jason needs to feel alone to get it.

“Okay, yeah, maybe. But, I just…what if this is worse, Molly? What then?” You sniffle. “What if…ya know? I don’t want it to get him killed again.”

“He’s going to get himself killed again regardless and you’re going to blame yourself for it no matter what you do.” Molly says harshly. “You’ve tried everything else, try this. If it doesn’t work, then you tried.”

“That’s not good enough!” You stand up, slamming your hands on the table. “Just trying isn’t fucking good enough! It has to fucking work!” There's a squeak to your voice as if your vocal cords are finally giving out.

“No!” Molly yells back. “Sometimes, things just aren’t enough, no matter how hard we try. That’s just how it is.” Molly shakes her head. 

"Yeah, but it should still be enough. It just has to be. It has to be...worth it." Your voice grows desperate.

"It's always worth it. It's always worth it to try.  Do you think Jason regrets trying with Catherine? Do you blame Jason for Catherine dying?"

"What? No, of course not." You scoff.

"Exactly. Because he tried. He didn't let her overdose. He could have. He could have let her starve, too but he didn't. He loves his mom and she tried, too. But, you know how addiction is. Jason's trying wasn't enough to save her and she died. Catherine trying to be a parent wasn't enough and it lead Jason to the streets and shitty foster homes. But, that doesn't mean their effort wasn't worth it. Bruce tried, as much as you hate him, he tried and it got Jason killed and Dick a mess. I tried and you still took off." Molly shakes her head. "Dick has tried with all of you and you're killing people and losing your mind, Jason is a drug addict working for Scarecrow, Gar is trying to pick everyone off the floor, Hank blew up, Jericho got killed, Dawn is gone. That doesn't mean his effort was wasted or useless."

You let out a breath and maybe Molly makes a point. There is a point in trying. It might work but you would never know unless you try. Putting in the effort is worth it but it's really hard to swallow when you feel so guilty about it. And what if it's not enough this time? Where is that supposed to leave you and Jason? All you want is him to be home and happy and healthy and safe.

“What do we do when it’s not enough? How do people even come back from that though?”

"Then we try something else." Molly answers simply. "And we keep trying. You giving up might be enough because if you give up, I’ll side with you and he knows that. So, will Gar. So, will the Titans. He’ll be alone. You’re the last living person that would ever give up on him and you’re his last chance at climbing out of the hole he dug himself. Maybe it is enough but you’re never going to know if you pick up your phone and call him.”

You nod your head quickly. “I know. It’s just...I wish I would have just been enough to keep him...out of this. Like...that my validation was enough and love for him was. Or yours and Gar's. I just hope you're right and trying this way is enough. I don't--”

“No.” Molly protests. “And you are enough. Don’t let his bullshit make you ever think that you’re not. You are. And he fucking tried with you, too. I have never seen him try in a way that he did with you. So, it was always enough for him. But, sometimes, being enough isn’t the problem. It’s bigger than you and me and Gar. You’re enough. And he tried. And you tried. And I’m betting he’s still trying in his own Jason way because if not, you’d be dead. And we both know it. So, he’s still trying so you try this way. You tell him you give up and then you figure something else out. You have never known how to quit anything in your entire life. I mean, you would just ghost people because you can’t quit a damn relationship.”

“Okay, that went from inspiring to mean. Thanks.” You quip. "I didn't ghost people." You mutter through a huff.

Molly narrows her eyes, offering you an accusatory look. "Yeah, you did." Molly argues. "But, you didn't ghost him, you actually ended things tonight because you’re still trying.” Molly pleads with you. “That is you trying and that is what’s important. And you don’t mean it. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Wait, I guess.” You shrug. “Try to figure out what else they could have planned. Work on the inside.” You suck in a breath, Molly waiting for another idea. "Bruce has a cure for the fear gas on the Batcomputer, maybe we can work on a cure for this one. Or just destroy the batch Crane is making while also finding a way to just take him out. Take him out with the drug and Jason has no choice then." You ramble, just tossing out the first things that come to your head.

“Exactly. He thinks you’re giving up but you’re not. You’re trying to find another way to save him. Don’t beat yourself up for it. But, then if he calls me, I’m going to talk to him not because you told me to but because I don’t want him mixed up in this shit either.” Molly sucks in a breath. “The one thing that has always worked with Jason is just having someone who listens.”

“I know. Shit sucks.” You let out a deep sigh. "Hope it works."

“We’ll get him back. You’re not alone in this either.” Molly offers a soft smile. “Then, you two can sort your shit out and give each other a fair shot at this. It’ll all work out.”

“That’s really optimistic.”

“I believe in you and I believe in Jason.”

You offer a soft smile. “Thanks.” You sniffle softly. “You should talk to Gar, you two got this whole optimism thing going. Could be like motivational speakers or some shit.”

“You’re hilarious.” Sarcasm fills Molly's voice this time.

“I’m an idiot and hilarious. Mulit-facidet.”

“Right.” Molly rolls her eyes. “How was he though? I mean…after you told him?”

“He gave me this look once, uh, the day we got together and uh….he asked me what was so bad about him.” You shake your head. “I mean, I wanted to burst into tears with the look he gave me and the way he said it. It just….fuck Bruce, man.” You scoff. “And fuck me I guess because he gave me that same damn look tonight. You can be as optimistic as you want, but I don’t he’s going to forgive me for it.”

“I told him once that it was you.” Molly states. “You were it for him and he was it for you. It was just the two of you but you’re both stupid and stubborn. You guys were together the next day.” Molly’s eyes widen. “I still think that’s true.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only one he told he was alive. He could have told me when he brought Diego back but he didn’t. He told you. He could have dragged you into the Crane stuff but he didn’t. I don’t think for a second, he did it to be an asshole or to push you away and I don’t think you believe he did that either. And that day, outside the house, he knew exactly what to do. Your hands were glowing and he didn’t even hesitate like he knew you’d never hurt him. Because Jason is forgiving. Stubborn and self-destructive, but forgiving.”

You remember your first night in Gotham and how casual he was but he seemed so happy and excited. You don't think you ever saw him smile so much before. And you think about how you almost kissed him that night because he was being Jason, annoying and yet somehow charming. You think he wanted to kiss you, too. You remember how you both were happy then. You both were happy before and you think about the day you blurted out that you loved him. It was the start and end of everything. You remember how he kissed you with everything in him that day as if he couldn't fathom being loved for just being Jason Todd. And you remember how happy he was. Happy and loved and safe. You wonder if there's a pit somewhere that can send you both back to those moments.

“Yeah, I hope you’re right.” You offer a sad smile. “Really miss him.”

“We’ll get him back.” Molly smiles softly.

“Thanks." You clear your throat. "Uh, I gotta head out but thank you. I’m still gonna keep my distance a bit just in case but if something happens, call me and same thing if anything with Jason happens.”

“Of course.” Molly offers a reassuring nod.

“I’m still sorry.” You scrunch your nose.

“I know.” Molly scoffs. “I forgive you. Just work on your shit after this is over.”

“You got it.” You roll your eyes before you head out.

You head back to Excellent Gotham to grab your things before you head back to the manor. Once back at the manor, you find Gar and the two of you sit down to discuss the night. You explain everything to him, what happened at Excellent Gotham, Mr. Drake, Tim, Molly, and Jason. You explain it all just trying to keep him informed and then you say you don’t want to be involved in the whole thing anymore. Maybe it’s safer for everyone if you aren’t involved. Dick is already painting a big enough target on everyone, you don’t want to contribute to that. So, the two of you talk back and forth well into the night, Gar just trying his best to be there for you but he tells you almost the same thing that Molly said. Besides agreeing with giving up. He knows you didn’t tell him that to give up literally, but he is worried it’ll send Jason further over the edge. He doesn’t say that but he doesn’t tell you it’s all going to be okay either. So, you both just sit and talk until you fall asleep.

The following day, everyone is gathered in the Batcave around the Batcomputer. Dick is explaining that Jason and Crane are putting the drug on the streets and last night was a just a trial. You broke the news to Dick when you woke up and right about now, you're regretting it, Dick says none of you can look at Red Hood as Jason anymore. Not when they're distributing the drug to innocent people on the streets.

"Is that really fair?" You ask as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yes." Dick answers sternly. "You know what he's done and what he's doing. You took the drug. Do you want other people—"

"That's not what I'm saying." You sigh. "Look, it didn't turn me into a killer. Or some shit. And I'm not like.....normal. So, Jason has to be in there, off the drug. Like all of these people."

"But we can't view him like that. It'll cloud our judgment. Right now, he is Red Hood and him and Crane need to be stopped. If you don't want to be involved, I understand."

"I thought you were done anyway?" Gar asks, still a little bitter about the conversation from the night before.

He tries to be there for you but he really doesn't agree with you giving up and not wanting to help. They need you because you're the only one that has ever been able to get through to Jason. And without you, who's going to convince Dick not to kill him? Or Kory? They're both tired of this and Gar doesn't stand a chance arguing with them. You, on the other hand, will argue and fight to the death if that's what it takes.

"I am." You snip. "I'm just saying." You roll your shoulders. "I fucking told you, he was worried and scared last night. Crane is withholding it from him. So, maybe we give him a day or something to come around, let the drug flush itself out. I was fine the next day but Jason's been taking it, probably, nonstop for a week. Erasing who is, I don't think that's gonna help." You narrow your eyes. "Unless, you have other plans than bringing him home."

"He's had plenty of chances to come home." Kory says, putting a hand on her hip.

"I thought you were against innocent people getting hurt?" Dick questions.

"Alright, if you wanna argue about morals and shit, go find Bruce." You scoff. "Whatever." You put your hands up in defeat, knowing there's no changing their minds this time. You don't even know why you're here.

Dick continues to explain he's going to use an illegal computer while Kory and Blackfire have someone else to take care of, leaving you, Gar, and Conner to themselves.

"What are you going to do when we find Jason?" Gar asks as Conner excuses himself to grab food for him and Krypto.

"Well, I guess nothing, Gar." You shake your head, a snip in your voice as you spin slowly in your chair at the Batcomputer.

"He depends on us and you're just giving up." Gar protests.

"He almost fucking shot me and he almost killed Jack!" You yell as the guilt and regret continue to chew away at your bones. "He didn't pull the damn trigger but he already knew what they were gonna do."

"But it wasn't him." Gar's voice goes quiet but still holds the same annoyance.

"Yeah, but he's going to have to deal with his own consequences. He woke up one day and decided he didn't want to be scared anymore and went to fucking Crane. That was Jason Todd's decision. Before Red Hood. He needs to deal with it." You grit your teeth and it sucks.

It all just sucks and Gar is really making the whole thing worse. You don't expect him to side with you all the time, that's fine. But, it'd be really nice if he would just accept this. Molly did and Molly agrees. It is torture not picking up the phone and calling Jason. You just wish Gar could see that.

"He was desperate." Gar defends and you don't know why he's being so stubborn about it.

"So was I." You say softly. "But I didn't go to a psychopath for help. He has to deal with it." You say quietly. "Why are you so..." You wave your hands around slightly, raising a brow at him. "I don't know, defensive about it?"

"The whole team is just falling apart." Gar shrugs. "And Dick doesn't seem like he really wants to try to help Jason anymore."

"I know." You roll your chair over to Gar's before putting your hands on his shoulders. "It's hard but you keep your optimism. I'm not gonna let Dick or Kory kill him. I might not stand a chance but they'll have to go through me if that's what it's going to lead to. You know I don't even mean it. But I can't just take it back. You know I can't. I've tried everything else, Gar." You let out a sigh, dropping your hands from Gar's shoulders. "I'm gonna go to the hospital and check on Tim. I owe him that since I can't tell him anything else." You stand up and start to walk off. "Let me know if something happens though, please. I do care. I just....can't, Gar. It hurts."

"Can I come?" Gar asks with the scrunch of his nose, scratching the back of his head.

"Actually, yeah." You nod your head and offer him a soft smile. "That'd be really nice." You jerk your head towards the hallway. "Come on, I'll drive."

Jason shows up at the old ice cream factory where Crane's been having the anti-fear drug cooked. With the anti-fear drug making its way through Jason's system over the past few hours, he's still feeling a little confident as he walks in for another inhaler, even if it feels like there's a weight tugging at his chest. Technically, disturbing the drug worked which means he was right. He's just actively trying to forget about what happened after. He tries to focus solely on being the one in charge now. He is not replaceable or expendable and he's hoping Crane sees that now. He just destroyed the last good thing in his life for this plan and the second the drug wears off, he's consumed with regret and guilt. If that doesn't show dedication, what else does?

And Crane seems to be fine with it. He doesn't seem angry or upset. And that, for some reason, is making Jason feel uneasy. Bruce and Dick would be pissed and would be screaming at him, even if he were right. But, Crane is just saying he understands and he's not like Bruce. He forgives him for betraying him. Something seems off but Jason isn't going to push to find out what's going on. That just seems like pushing his luck. So, he plucks an inhaler from the table and hits it.

But, there's something wrong.

It burns. His throat feels like it's blistering from the inside out. His lungs feel like they're going to spasm right out of his chest. Jason starts coughing, asking Crane what's in the inhaler as his legs grow weak. It's hard to breathe and despite the drug he just took two hours ago, he's starting to panic. The last time it was hard to breathe like this, he died. He died. He died. He died and it was brutal and terrifying. He can't breathe and why can't he breathe? What did Crane give him? Why would Crane do this to him? Is Crane really going to kill him?

Jason's head spins as his limbs grow weak making him fall to the floor, trying to grip the table to stabilize himself. But, he falls anyway and his heart is beating so fast he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest. Everything spins and fades in and out of blurry and full focus. He can't fucking breathe and everything is heavy. It's heavy and his eyes are heavy and then it all goes black.

You and Gar make it to the hospital and spend a few hours hanging out with Tim who's grateful for the company. The good news is that his dad is going to be just fine and they're talking about releasing him as early as tomorrow. The bullet didn't hit anything major which is pure luck. But, he's thankful to have someone to talk to and keep him company anyway even if a part of him is still a little bitter about the whole ordeal, as he should be.

But, then Gar gets a text from Dick. They know where Jason and Crane are. They're getting together to shut them down and bring them in. Dick, specifically, doesn't want you there. Given everything that's happened, he doesn't want you involved anymore. Either you'll be a target or you're going to flip. If this ends poorly, you'll be a problem with bringing Jason and Crane in. It's in everyone's best interest if you stay out of it this time.

"Sorry, uh...I have to go." Gar says quietly.

You eye him and you know. "Dick?"

"Yeah." Gar nods his head. "He's gonna come get me so you can stay here."

"Ahh." You nod once, your heart sinking. You're staying out of it anyway but if Dick wants Gar back and is coming for him, that means maybe they found them. Some part of you still wants to be there just in case something happens. But, you can't very well go argue with Dick outside of a hospital entrance about going to fight Red Hood and Scarecrow, so you just suck in a breath. "Um...can...can you just...ya know?"

Gar hesitates and he thinks for a second. If it came down to picking between Dick, Kory, Conner, and Blackfire or Jason, who would he pick? The Titans are his family but so is Jason and he doesn't want to bury another friend. He doesn't want to bury him again. Gar thinks about it and he's thinking if it came to it, maybe he would stand in front of Jason just to make sure Dick didn't kill him because he would do the same for Dick. And Jason would do the same for him.

"I'll do everything I can and I'll call you." Gar says. "Promise."

"Thanks, Gar." You offer a sad smile.

"Of course." Gar smiles back before looking to Tim. "Nice meeting you, dude. Glad your dad is okay." Gar says with a smile.

"Thanks, yeah, you, too." Tim nods his head as the two of them say their goodbyes and Gar heads out. Your eyes linger on the exit, finding it hard to just sit here. What if you saying you're giving up gives the Titans some right of passage to kill him? What then? "What? You're not gonna go?"

You shake your head. "No, I, uh, I thought I'd hang out with you a little longer. It's probably just some bullshit anyway." You shift in your seat with the roll of your eyes.

"Jason almost gets my dad killed and now you're not going to be involved?" Tim questions, a bit of hurt and anger in his voice.

"You're not gonna quit are you?" You question him with a slight grimace.

"Nope." Tim shakes his head.

"I broke up with him, not my business." You shake your head. "And that's if it's about Jason. Not sure why it would be but ya know." You roll your shoulders, almost giving up on keeping this whole thing a secret from Tim, too.

"Right." Tim scoffs.

"Look," You face him in defeat. "You want me to tell you things I don't know about," Your eyes widen, a hint for him to shut up about it. "But you also won't trust me. I'm just asking you to trust me, okay?"

"Will you ever tell me?" Tim asks carefully.

If you were being honest, you think you can trust Tim to keep it all a secret. He could be on forums and showing everything he has to news outlets about Bruce being Batman and Dick being Robin and Nightwing. If he wanted to tell everyone, he could and enough people would believe him. But, he keeps it to himself besides to you because you're a Titan. So, you think maybe you'll tell him at some point when everything calms down. It's all a little dangerous right now but maybe one day you will.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But, you have got to fucking trust me."

"Alright, fine." Tim gives you a soft but triumphant smile. He's won enough for now and you know it.

That seems to be enough for Tim to drop it for now as the two of you go back to talking about everything that's not vigilante-related for once.

Jason finally starts to come to, his head heavy and throbbing. His eyes are burning as if he has the worst cold he's ever had and his vision is blurry, coming into focus a little slower than usual. His wrists are duct taped to the arms of a chair and his limbs feel too weak to even fight. He tugs just once but it's useless. He's been trained for this. He escaped that time with Deathstroke easily because it was in the training and duct tape is easy to escape from. But, he can't and the real drug has worn off. Tears start to brim his eyes and he has never felt more alone than he does right now.

He thought he could trust Crane. Him and Crane are supposed to be in this together. He said they had the same view of the city. But then Crane poisoned him. Why would he do that to him? Jason trusted him and Crane poisoned him. He knows he went behind Crane's back but Jason never did anything to hurt Crane yet Jason's the one duct taped to a chair and drugged. Jason swallows the hard lump in his throat and he should have just stayed in line.

He did it again.

He fucked it all up. He just had to go off and do his own thing with targeting Excellent Gotham, giving the drug to those random guys behind Crane's back. It's the same story over and over again, he just can't help himself and Jason wonders what the fuck is so wrong with him that he can't just stay in line. People trust him and then he pushes them away and he betrays them and he goes off on his own. Why does he always do this? It's all his fault and he trusted Crane. He really did. And he feels so alone.

Crane was the last person Jason thought he had that he could trust. Jason burned every single bridge he had with the Titans. Kory is going to be pissed and is going to take Dick's side, especially after Hank. Dawn would never trust him after what he did. Conner doesn't know him well enough. Jason has tried to kill Dick. After what happened last night with you, Jason doesn't even think Gar would help him. He's all alone. He's alone and he hates being this alone. He has no one and his mind is clear for the first time in a week. He is fucking terrified and filled with shame and regret and remorse and everything is hitting him so hard he just wants to scream. He hates it.

You were right. He does regret it. He regrets all of it. He shouldn't have gone to Crane. He shouldn't have killed Hank. He shouldn't have targeted Dick. He never should have fought you or went after the Drake's. Everything he's done, he is regretting and there's nothing he can do about it. But he remembers you saying he can call Dick. Dick is his brother. He tried to kill him but maybe you're right. You would never tell him to call Dick if you didn't know for sure. Because even when you give up, Jason knows you wouldn't risk him getting killed. He has to get out of here but he's weak and tired.

"I pity you, Jason." Crane says, but his voice is foggy as if he were down a long and distant tunnel. "You were reckless and you were impatient last night. And you act out of fear, not out of strength. You see, you're still afraid of Dick Grayson. And I failed you. I failed you as a teacher. But here's today's lesson. You know how I broke Batman? It wasn't with fear, it was with patience. I'm going to show you that you don't need to go running around Gotham, trying to destroy the Titans, you can just sit back and watch as the Titans destroy themselves."

Jason remains silent, unsure how he's even supposed to argue or if he can. It was Crane's idea to destroy the Titans anyway. Jason has just been so mad at them and felt abandoned he thought Crane was right but now he's not so sure. He can't be sure anymore. It all feels like lies. He's sobering up and everything feels like it was a lie. Just to use him.

"That's how we're going to take care of that...unpleasant girl of yours." Crane puts his hands behind his back, standing as if he owns the entire world. Jason's jaw clenches, his eyes focusing on Crane. "Patience. You wouldn't do it but you don't have to." Crane offers a kind smile and it makes Jason's skin crawl. "You see, your little act last night I'm sure really bothered her, right? You could have gotten her killed and her little friend. She has nowhere to go now, besides to the Titans and as the Titans crumble, so will she."

"That's not part of the plan." Jason chokes out, finding the energy to argue this point. "You said we'd leave her out of it."

Crane promised him from the beginning they would keep you out of it as long as you didn't side with the Titans. And you technically, did not do that. You've only been on Jason's side, just using Dick as a way to try and help him. Crane promised they would leave you out of it and you could join their side if you wanted to. Jason's getting the idea that was just a lie, too just to get him to cooperate with whatever Crane wanted to do.

"Did I?" Crane asks. "I don't think I ever said that. But," Crane sucks in a breath, leaning down to be eye-to-eye with Jason. "She threatened to kill me. She even beat me up." Crane almost sounds pitiful and hurt. "I told you, Jason. She's not on your side and she never was. Now. You can sit back and watch her destroy herself." Crane leans up, walking to the window to watch the workers.

You already gave up on him. You and him are done. There is no coming back from last night. But the panic still floods Jason's system because he knows, despite everything his mind has ever conditioned him to think, it was the hardest thing you had to do. He knows you tried to do everything besides that and he loves you anyway. He loves you anyway and he dragged you into this. He put you right in the middle of him and your friends. Your family that you tried to have. He did that to you.

Last night you said all Jason has done since coming back is hurt you, and you're right. He never meant to. He never dreamed of it hurting you but he did and now he's terrified it just got that much worse for you. You deserve better and Jason has no idea how he's supposed to get out of this.

Crane has to let him go eventually. Crane will need Jason for something and he can warn you. You told him not to contact you or Gar but maybe this will be an exception because you have to know. And maybe he can take your advice for fucking once and just call Dick. Because Crane just drugged him and is holding him hostage. Maybe he never could trust him.

It's quiet on the way back to the Manor. It's as if no one really knows what to say or how to say it. Sure, the fight went just fine just like it usually does. They make a really good team and Blackfire is a good addition to the team. But, they didn't get Crane and they didn't get Jason. Instead, Crane and Jason are in the wind but Crane was also holding Jason hostage. Something happened that led Crane to do that and Gar is the one sitting here wondering what they're going to do about it and who the hell is going to be the one to break it to you. It was Dick's bright idea for you not to come along and maybe if you would have, you could have gotten Jason. Maybe if they had one more person it would have went differently. The team is divided and Gar hates it.

"Who's gonna tell her about Jason?" Gar asks and they walk through the Batcave.

The other Titans turn to look at him, glancing between each other before landing on Dick. It's not Conner or Blackfire's place to say anything, it's not their job. That's all Kory and Dick but Dick doesn't seem like he's going to be the one to say anything. You can say you're done all you want but Dick knows if they tell you, you'll go off the rails looking for Jason. It could get you killed, Jason killed, and you could kill Crane. Even if you do find them, what's to stop Crane from kidnapping you, too? Crane clearly has a way to do it if he can do it to Jason. And what if it's a trap? What if Jason isn't being held captive but it's a way to get the Titans to a different location? Telling you seems like it might just be a bad idea and in your best interest for your own safety.

"We don't have to tell her." Dick says.

Gar's eyes nearly bulge out of his head. "Seriously, dude?" Gar scoffs. "It's Jason. She's going to be pissed if she finds out and we didn't tell her."

"She decided she doesn't want any part of this anymore and I think that's for the best. If we tell her, we don't know what she'll do. We still need Crane." Dick argues, keeping it short.

"Screw that, man." Gar groans. "He took Jason and we know he did. There was proof of it back there. If something happens to him, she's gonna never forgive any of us. Let her decide if she wants back in."

"He's right, Gar. She's been a little bit of loose canon lately." Kory offers kindly.

Gar is also tired of the secrets. All keeping secrets from each other has done is get them hurt. That's all it's done and now they want to keep this huge thing from you? That's insane. You have every right to know and he doesn't understand why they would want to keep it from you. Maybe you'll explode but it's not like anyone else is going to go save Jason. What if he actually is in danger?

"Because of everything that's happened!" Gar defends, tossing his arms out to his sides. "If you guys were in her shoes, you'd probably be loose canons, too! I mean, Dick has been going off on his own most of the time. Bruce even snapped. And we just have to pretend like everything is normal?"

"I mean..." Conner chimes in. "She didn't tell us he was alive."

"Yeah, and that sucked but she was scared for his life. It sucks but at least I get it. And it was one day! What is keeping this from her going to do?"

Dick crosses his arms and he's really missing the days where the only problems he had were Jason and you pulling some dumb prank just to harass him. "Do you think she'll sit back and let us handle it or do you think she's going to take it into her own hands?"

Gar knows you will. It's Jason but Gar also knows that if it were him, you would do the same thing. The only reason you didn't come after him by yourself with CADMUS is because you didn't know how to and it was CADMUS not just one person. But, Gar also got the story about you being the driving force to make sure you all saved him, regardless of what was happening to Dick. Gar was the first priority. You're going to take this into your own hands but at this point, Gar is ready to jump right in with you. Jason came to save him.

"I know." Gar shrugs. "But what if she doesn't? What if she asks for help this time? We just don't even give her the option?"

"That could get her killed. It's for her own protection." Kory says.

"Well, that sucks." Gar snaps. "Keeping secrets from each other doesn't keep any of us safe." Gar scoffs as he goes to leave.

Now he knows how you feel. Arguing with them is exhausting. They won't even listen. It's either whatever they want to do or nothing. That's normally fine. Gar normally agrees and Dick and Kory usually do know better but not this time. This time it's wrong, for your own protection or not.

"Gar." Dick calls.

Gar turns around quickly, a look of defeat on his face. "If she asks, I'm not gonna lie." Gar shrugs his shoulders before he turns away and heads upstairs.

Gar finds you in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for food. He wonders if this is what it felt like when you knew Jason was alive. His stomach feels like it might fall right to his feet, heavy with guilt. He wonders if you were also mad at him for asking you to keep it a secret because Gar's mad at Dick and Kory. It really fucking sucks and Gar wonders how the hell you even manage to keep everything a secret. He's been standing here for just a few seconds and he already wants to snap and spill everything. Maybe that's why you've been a bit off, because this just sucks and it's heavy.

You pop your head out from behind the cabinet door, a granola bar sticking out of your mouth, feeling someone had entered the kitchen. "Hey." You greet as you pluck the bar from your mouth.

"What are you doing?" Gar questions.

"Looking for food. Hospital food sucks." You say softly. "I guess." You mutter quietly as you pluck a box of Mac and cheese from the cabinet, a displeased look on your face.

"Don't you like that?" Gar asks, entering further into the kitchen.

"Yeah," You sigh. "Just not feeling it but I don't wanna go through the effort of making anything else or looking." You look at the box and back to Gar. "Is there real milk in this?"

"Uh, yeah." Gar chuckles, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. "Why?"

"Could have made it with the vegan butter and oat milk if you wanted some but never mind, I guess." You sigh, moving to the cabinet with the pots. But the room goes oddly silent, making you look back at Gar. He's just standing there, watching you. "What happened?" You ask as you turn around, leaning against the counter.

Gar shifts his weight on his feet. "What makes you think something happened?" Gar asks softly.

"You have a look and you're quiet. You didn't point out Bruce probably has vegan Mac and cheese somewhere or Dick probably pick some up for you." You explain. "I can always tell with you and Jason when something's wrong."

You watch as Gar looks to the ground and you're terrified what's going to come out of his mouth. Jason can't be dead again because Gar probably would be crying right now but he's not and his eyes aren't red which means he isn't sucking it up for your sake. The other Titans are probably fine because Gar wouldn't be so hesitant to tell you if something happened to them. So, you have to assume it has to do with Jason and there's a small part of you that thinks the Titans won this time and they sent Jason to Arkham instead of bringing him home. You swear you'll lose it if that's what happened.

"Um..." Gar scratches the back of his neck as he looks back to you. "Can you promise not to freak out?"

"I can't promise that." You shake your head as you brace for whatever bullshit Gar is gonna say next. "Jason, right? Something happened?"

Gar nods softly. "By the time we got to the office where Crane and Jason were, they were gone. But, we think Crane had Jason duct taped to a chair and took him with him."

You blink a few times and you swear you just forgot how to breathe. Not again. This cannot possibly be happening again.

"C-crane...you-I mean...you guys think C-Crane kidnapped him?" You sputter.

Gar nods. "Yeah."

Jason said you're the one with a habit of getting kidnapped but so far, you're both two to two here. And you hate it. Why the fuck would Crane need to kidnap him in the first place? If they're working together, then Crane has no reason to. Unless Jason is actually turning on him. In which case, it just got really dangerous to be Jason Todd.

"Do you know where they went?" You ask, trying to keep your voice level.

"No." Gar answers shamefully.

You offer a large nod as your appetite vanishes. You push from the counter, leaving the box and pot on the counter. "Thanks for telling me." You say as you walk up to Gar. "You guys aren't going to look for him, are you? And Dick said not to tell me, right?"

Gar nods once more, letting out a deep breath. "Dick thinks it could be a trap and yeah, he's worried what you'll do."

"Got it." You let out a scoff with a bitter chuckle.

All you can hear is Tim in the back of your head about how you're supposed to be a hero. Well, so is Dick. You think that word is starting to lose its fucking meaning because what kind of hero just lets a psychopath kidnap someone? You know it's more complicated than that but they're brothers and Jason was kidnapped. Again. It was fine the first time, but what? Round two and he's on his own? Is that how it is?

"You're gonna go, aren't you?" Gar asks.

"Yeah, and if Dick's gotta fucking problem with it, he'll have to go through me. I'm not letting Crane kidnap Jason and hold him fucking hostage. I don't care." You shake your head, venom shooting through your words.

There's a bit of relief that fills Gar's chest. Maybe Dick is right and it's a trap but what if it's not? Deathstroke and Dr. Light could have been a trap, it kind of was. But, Dick went anyway to save Jason and you. Trap or not, you all should be trying to find Jason and help him just in case it's not a trap.

"Can, uh, can I help?" Gar asks, making you do a double take.

Gar tends to do what Dick asks, especially since the whole Deathstroke thing and you both accidentally losing Conner for a day. You kind of figured he wouldn't try to really stop you because that would be useless but you thought maybe he'd offer some voice of reason. The last thing you ever expected was Gar to ask if he could help, despite Dick's wishes.

"Huh?" You hum, eyes wide. "What?"

"He's my friend, too." Gar shrugs. "And he came to save me. I wanna help find him." Gar lets out a breath, eyes hopeful you'll let him help.

"Yeah, uh...I mean...it could be a trap. I mean...are you sure? Dick is gonna be pissed." You furrow your brows, still eying him with confusion.

"I know." Gar nods. "But, I don't want you doing this alone either in case it is a trap or something happens like last time. I just wanna help. We can't let Crane hold him hostage."

You nod quickly, figuring maybe it would be nice to not do this completely alone. "Okay, but, can you stay here? I might have to do some stuff you don't like and if it is a trap, we might be fucked." You say and Gar is about to protest. "No, no, I have an idea. Follow me." You gesture for him to follow you as you walk past him.

You and Gar walk to Jason's room, you shutting and locking the door behind you. You go to one of Jason's hiding spots and grab the tablet. You always put it back, exactly where he kept it, just in case. You unlock the tablet and go to the software used to track your necklace. The tracking device is only synced with his tablet and his phone since you hated the idea of Bruce being able to track you. Jason was always fine.

"Here." You hand it over, showing a green blinking dot right on top of Wayne Manor. "You track me. My phone is synced to the Batcomputer. I'll text you every hour on the hour. If I miss, you call and if I don't call back in thirty seconds, get Dick. Something went wrong."

"Why do you know about this and just why?" Gar asks, confused as to what's even going on. "Why can't I go with?"

"Because Jason is a shithead who was lying to me before he died. I know where all of his hiding spots are and he knows where all of mine are. I, apparently, am the one with a habit of being kidnapped but I didn't want Bruce involved. Jason swore he'd always come find me." You shrug casually. "So, you track me and then we know where he is. And then maybe we tell Dick where they're hiding out. See, everyone wins. If you're with me and we both get kidnapped then Crane has all three of us and Dick and Kory won't know where to go. I need someone here, just in case." You explain quickly.

It's not a lie, it's true. You've put some thought into the vigilante life after all of this is sorted out, hoping things go back to some form of normal. It's dangerous to be out there as a team and alone. It's dangerous both ways and it's dangerous to have people know but, you think it might be worse for you to be alone out there and no one know where you are or what you're doing. Having someone be eyes and ears behind a screen seems like it might be helpful, especially if something goes wrong.

"Right, okay, yeah." Gar nods and this isn't really what he meant by helping but you have a point. At least this way, if something happens, it's not the three of you stuck in a bad situation with no one knowing where you are. At least they'll know where to find you and Jason. "You're gonna call if things start looking bad, right?" Gar asks as you remain silent, moving your eyes from the left to the right before landing back on Gar. "Dr. Light? Deathstroke?" Gar presses, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Fine." You nod your head quickly. "If it starts looking like it might go even a little south, I'll call you. But, I don't even know if I'll be able to find him."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I know a few people I can grab, try to get some intell on where Red Hood and Crane would go. Someone knows and they'll start talking."

Gar lets out a sigh, deciding it's best he doesn't know what you're going to do to them. Maybe him staying back is a good idea if you think that's the only way to find him. If anyone is gonna know how to work around Gothamites, it'll be you.

"They in Batcave?" You ask as you head for the door.

"Yeah."

"Great." You suck in a breath. "Okay, I'm going to get my suit and find him. If he asks, you can tell Dick you're helping but try not to show him, please. He'll come after me and probably fuck it up. If Crane has him hostage, I can get through to Jason."

"Are you going to bring him back?" Gar asks, a bit of hope in his eyes.

"Not if he doesn't ask." You shake your head. "If Crane had to duct tape him to a chair that means Jason isn't siding with him as much anymore. While I feel guilty and I hate myself for last night," You shake your head. "Maybe that does have something to do with it." You start the walk to the Batcave. "He has to make the decision on his own. As much as it fucking sucks." You scoff. "Okay, I'll be back later. Every hour." You nod once before you dart behind the grandfather clock.

You walk right over to the display with your suit, ripping the case open as you grab Dick's and Kory's attention. If they want to work this alone and not save him, fine. But that's not you and they're not stopping you.

"Where are you going?" Kory asks.

You spin around and you shrug your shoulders sadly. "To save Jason." You answer simply.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kory asks and they really should have known Gar was going to tell you immediately.

"You're staying here. We don't--"

"I don't care." You roll your eyes as you cut Dick off. "Do you really want to tell me to just...let Crane kidnap him? Me? Of all people?" You ask.

"It could be a trap." Dick argues and he's also tired of this back and forth. He's never met anyone so hardheaded. Why can't you just listen? Just once?

"Yeah, maybe." You shrug softly. "And that's a risk I am willing to take because I give a fuck about him." You snip right back. It almost feels like you're arguing with your parents.

"You could get hurt or worse." Kory states. "For all we know, this is what Crane and Jason want."

"It's not safe." Dick says. "We can't risk it. You don't know what you'll be walking into."

"I don't fucking care if I get hurt!" Your voice cracks with frustration. "That's part of the job! Getting hurt to keep people, innocent strangers safe. You think I'm not gonna risk getting a little hurt to save someone I actually care about? I love him anyway and I'm going to save him." You let out a bitter scoff. "You know, Tim said something to me last night. I didn't tell him shit, don't worry. But, he said that I'm supposed to be a hero." You shake your head. "And he's fucking right, ya know? It's just complicated but look at you guys. We're supposed to be heroes! And you're all just gonna...sit back? Let whatever happens, happen? No, fuck that. I did that last time and we see what fucking happened."

"We aren't sitting back." Dick says sternly. "We've been trying to bring home this whole time but he clearly, doesn't want that. He dug his hole and he has to deal with it. He made his choice."

"I'm not going back and forth about it anymore. Just...what is it? I mean, Deathstroke, was it just that you felt you had our blood on your hands? So, you were obligated to do something? And now that Jason's kidnapping doesn't have shit to do with you, your hands are clean? Is that what this is? Why not try to fucking save him?! You know Crane. Crane could have snapped and then...what? That's just it. One less body to deal with."

"Hey!" Kory scolds. "You know that is not what this is. We all have given Jason a fair chance but Dick's right he made his choice. He knows how bad Crane can be."

"That doesn't make it okay." You say quietly. "I made a promise to him and I broke one of those. I'm not breaking another one tonight. He is not Robin anymore so if Crane wants to go after him, he gets to deal with me and if you have such a fucking problem with that, I guess you can try to stop me but I'm going." You turn back around, grabbing your suit before you slam the case closed. "I was wrong about what I said about trying. Sometimes, it isn't enough. But, at least I'm fucking trying. Unlike you guys."

Dick lets out an exasperated sigh. "You don't know when to quit do you?"

You shake your head, the corner of your mouth perking up. "Not when it comes to people I happen to like." You spin around, suit in hand and you head off to change and leave.

"You know, she handled that well actually." Kory says softly. "All things considered."

"Yeah." Dick scoffs. "That's the worrying part."

You head off on the bike once you're suited up. You get to Crime Alley figuring that might be your best bet for any type of answer. You use your phone to look into the men you killed last night and see what their ties could be to Red Hood and Scarecrow. Their files don't have too much but they are a few notes about people the three of them used to run with so you figure you can start there. Someone knows where Red Hood and Scarecrow would be. This is Gotham and they're in the drug trade.

You track one of the men down, following him carefully from the rooftops and waiting for the right moment to confront him. The whole rooftop thing might have actually been a good idea, you will give Bruce that one. You wait until an alley with almost no lighting comes up. So, you take your opportunity to get down from the rooftops and beat him to the alley. Just as he approaches, you yank him into the alleyway, slamming him against the wet brick as hard as you can.

"Where is Red Hood?" You seethe, your teeth grinding under your mask,

The man looks down at you as your arm is pressed against his throat. "How the fuck would I know?"

You pull back just enough to shove him against the wall, this time his head bangs against the wet bricks. "Bullshit. You know where he's hiding out. Him and Scarecrow, fucking spill."

"Fuck you." He spits.

You do not have time for this. You're done arguing and going back and forth with people. All he has to do is give up a name or a place. It's not that hard. So, you pull out a knife and hold it right to his jugular.

"Do you wanna end up like your friends? It's all pretty easy to make happen." You press the tip of the knife into his skin, just enough to break skin and blood starts leaking down his neck.

His eyes widen, filled with panic. "I don't know!"

"Bullshit!" You yell back, doing your best to refrain from pressing the knife further into his neck. "Red Hood was able to get your friends which means there has to be some sort of connection. Tell me where he is."

"I don't know!" The man's voice is panicked. "Jeremiah! Word is he has an in with Red Hood and Scarecrow for whatever they're cooking."

"And where the fuck would he be?" You almost mock him. A name is fine but come on.

"Robinson Park!" He yells back, the panic leaking from his pores. "He's been dealing there."

"Thank you." You pat the man's cheek. "Was that so fucking hard?" You scoff, dropping the man. "Seriously, get your shit together and do something more productive." You roll your eyes as you shoot the grappling hook to the rooftop, leaving the man alone in the alley.

You reach Robinson Park and give Gar a quick text to let him know everything is fine. Then, you make your way inside of the park to look for this Jeremiah guy. You were able to figure out what he looks like thanks to him and the guy you just grabbed having been busted for dealing just a few months ago.

It doesn't take you too long to find him near a bridge. That's where you sneak up behind him and grab him, slamming him against the cement just as you did with the previous guy. You're hoping he'll be willing to spill a little quick but you're also betting you're not going to get that lucky tonight.

"Red Hood. Where is he?" You ask with fire in your words.

Jeremiah laughs. "You think I'm gonna tell you? You're a fucking bat--"

You yank your fist back and punch him in the face. He spits blood out by your boots, looking back at you with fury. "I am not a fucking bat." You say through gritted teeth. "I will burn you alive limb by fucking limb until you spill where Red Hood is."

"Yeah? And uh, what makes you think I even know?" He gives you this grin that makes you want to scream.

"Word is you have an in for the drug him and Scarecrow are putting on the streets. I assume it was a test run last night. Unless, you're full of shit just trying to get some weird ass respect." You quip, tilting your head to the right.

"I'm not telling you shit." He scoffs.

"You know, Red Hood decapitated six men, right? Of some of Gotham's most notorious families in the business. Yeah, I can be worse. And I will start with you." You tug your glove off with your other hand, still keeping pressure on his neck. You show the neon green so bright it illuminates your face. Jeremiah watches you before you touch a finger to his face, he lets out a horrendous scream, echoing through the tunnel under the bridge. "Every limb but I won't kill you. I'll let infection set in and that can kill you. Tell me where the fuck he is!"

Jeremiah lets out a sigh, gritting his teeth. "There's that old ice cream factory. They were cooking there."

"They're not there. Titans showed up tonight. Where else would they go?"

"Aren't you a fucking Titan?" He sneers.

"Does it really seem like I'm a Titan?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"There's the old Wellington pump station. Heard they had a hookup there." Jeremiah says reluctantly. "I don't fucking know anything else."

"Thank you." You let go of him as he falls to the ground. "You know, you should also get your shit together. I know you deal to kids. Stop or I will actually kill you. Leave kids the out of it." You roll your eyes, earning yourself a confused look as you walk out of the tunnel.

Once you get back to your bike, you head right to the pump station. The drive feels like it takes an eternity when it only takes twenty minutes. You're growing more anxious as more time goes by. You don't know how long Crane has had him tied up for or what he's doing to even keep Jason tied up. Jason should be able to get out of duct tape. So, you worry as every minute passes by.

The closer you get to the building, the more you start to remember what it was like the night he died. The drive and how it was freezing but you didn't even notice because you were so panicked. You were going to save him but you were too late. Every second from the phone call to Molly until you passed out is embedded into the deepest parts of your mind, tattooed and stitched as cruel reminders of the world you live in sometimes. You can't forget but you're trying to save Jason again and it's like you're thrown back into that night all over again.

It can't end like that again.

It can't.

When you get to the pump station, you park far off in the old parking lot before making your way to the back of the building. You use your grappling hook to get to the roof where you find a skylight looking into the building. That's when you spot Jason, now tied to a chair. Crane is walking around, throwing his hands around dramatically but there seems to be a pep in his step, as if he's happy or excited about something. You roll your eyes. He's so fucking insane.

A part of you does question if this is a trap. Jason is faster and stronger than Crane. Jason should have been able to escape. He has all of the training and he can easily take Crane. It doesn't even look like Crane is armed but you know Jason is. It doesn't make a lot of sense but you're watching carefully and Jason doesn't even seem to be partaking in whatever nonsense Crane is on about. So, you brush the thought of it being a trap away and think maybe Crane drugged him. That would explain everything. Trap or not, you're getting into this building and you're grabbing Jason.

You try to look at everything surrounding them and the drum barrels on the catwalk. All you need to do is distract Crane long enough to get Jason free. That's the point. It's not so much a rescue mission as it is just getting him free. If you can get him free and he can walk, he can escape Crane if it comes to that. Then, you spot an alarm sitting far off on the back wall and you have an idea.

"Hey, you at the Batcomputer?" You whisper into the phone.

"Uh...yeah, yeah, why? What's up?" Gar wheels himself closer to the keyboard, looking at the screens.

"Crane has Jason tied up. I'm at a pump station but I can see an alarm of some sort, not a fire alarm. Is there any way to like...trigger it from where you are?" You ask.

"I can try, hold on." Gar says as he starts typing away.

"Or trigger anything to distract Crane so I can grab Jason."

"How long do you need?"

"Three minutes, tops." You keep watch as Jason's head nods softly as if he's trying to stay awake and failing miserably.

"Okay, yeah, there's an alarm system that's still active in the building. I can set it off but as soon as Crane disables it, that'll be it. So, you have to be quick." Gar explains, getting into the building's security system.

"Okay, yeah. Quick, got it." You nod your head. "Ready when you are."

"Hang up and I'll trigger it. Text me when you get somewhere safe."

"Of course, thank you." You say softly before you hang up.

You grab a knife from your belt and start working on the lock to the skylight. Luckily, this was a part of Jason's training. Lock-picking. Of course it was. As soon as you have the lock picked and the window ready to be opened, you hear the blaring of an alarm.

Jason and Crane both jump, looking around as the noise echoes and bounces off of the walls. Crane looks to grow more and more annoyed before he storms off and that's when you make your move. You open the window, using the grappling hook to lower yourself down as quickly as possible.

Once your feet touch solid ground, you yank the hook loose and run to Jason, immediately bending down to be face-to-face with him. His pupils are blown and he's barely awake but his eyes widen just a little, trying to make you out. It's blurry but he swears it's you. That can't be right. Why the hell would you come?

You swear you find yourself hating Crane more and more by the second. You shake your head and grab a knife, cutting Jason's hands free before you come to his face again.

"Jay? Can you walk?" You ask quietly, just loud enough so he can hear you above the alarm. But all Jason does is stare at you and he just can't believe you're really in front of him right now. Maybe he's hallucinating. "Jay?" You place your hands on his cheeks. "Hey, can you walk?"

It's you. You came.

Jason nods weakly and he thinks he might burst at the seams. He thought he was alone.

"Come on." You help him up.

Jason's arm rests over your shoulders as the two of you head to the exit, opposite the way Crane went. Jason's footing is a little unsteady but he tries his best while you keep him stable, one arm wrapped around him and the other holding his arm around your shoulders.

The entire walk to your bike has Jason's head spinning, both from the high and the confusion of you showing up in the first place. You broke up with him and you gave up on him. His head might be foggy and he might be out of it right now, but he knows that happened. And yet you're here anyway. Not Dick or Kory or Gar. It's you who showed up. Maybe you shouldn't have but you did. And even in this state, Jason thinks maybe it was still a hard decision, given what happened last night...and the last time you found him. But, you showed up anyway and he does not deserve that.

Every part of you wants to explode like a volcano. It wasn't fucking a trap. Crane drugged him and tied him up so he couldn't fucking leave. That's what happened. Dick and Kory, they were wrong. They were fine letting Jason suffer over a what if situation. You just grabbed him without any damn problems. All you needed was a little help from Gar. it was fine. It went fine but who knows what Crane's plan for the rest of the night was. This could have gone so much worse for him and Dick and Kory just didn't care. They didn't care enough to try.

And then there's Crane. It just drives you insane. Jason got himself wrapped up in this but he doesn't deserve to be drugged and held hostage. You swear people in general don't really don't deserve it. But, now it's happened to Jason and you think maybe you shouldn't leave him again. Every part of you doesn't want to leave him again.

"Can you hold on?" You ask as you reach your bike.

"Uh..." Jason sucks in a breath before he nods. "Yeah, got it." He mutters, his words slurring together slightly.

"Where do you wanna go?" You ask, biting down your own hope that he'll say the manor.

Jason's heart rate spikes for a quick second with the question and for that split second, he almost spits out manor. But, that second is just that, a second. He can't go back. Not like this. Not now. If they want to turn him in, he can't run or defend himself and he's not putting you in that position anymore. So, he tells you another hideout he has and you just nod, all hopes of bringing him back fading away.

"I'll go slow." You say softly as you get on the bike first, Jason wobbly getting on behind you.

You bend uncomfortably around, popping the spare helmet on his head. You slide the face shield down before turning back around and grabbing his arms to wrap around you. Once your own helmet is on, you take off, leaving the pump station in the rearview mirrors.

When you reach the hideout, you help Jason inside and upstairs with his directions. You reach the room that contains a mattress, an old broken dresser, and a few lamps scattered about the floor. You help Jason over to the bed and help him to sit down.

Jason sits with his knees bent, feet planted on the floor and his eyes locked on you. He just can't believe this is real. He still thinks he might be hallucinating or maybe he's just having a really vivid dream.

"Are you okay?" You ask as you kneel in front of him, resting your hands on his knees but Jason's head sways. "Jay?"

Everything hurts and it's spinning. And his chest hurts, the lump in his throat hurts. Every piece of his body is aching and burning and heavy, exhausted. But, you're here, right in front of him. You broke up with him last night and you gave up but you're right in front of him and he is so thankful. Why are you here? He doesn't deserve it.

Jason reaches forward, tugging your mask off of your face as if just to make sure it's you. "You came." His brows pull together as if he's in pain.

Your heart breaks at the surprise and tenderness of his voice. He really thought you wouldn't? You know what you said but...does he think it's that easy?

"I'll always come to save you." You whisper, your eyes watering as they scan over his face.

Jason can feel his bottom lip start to quiver. He really fucked it all up and he's high and it's the worst high of his life. It all sucks and you're here and he doesn't know why. He wants to take it all back. He wants to turn back time and take everything back. He wants to go back to that day in your room when you were the one that told him loving him is the easiest thing you'd ever done because he knows that isn't true anymore. And it is breaking him.

"But you..." Jason chokes on his own words. "You said you were fucking done and--"

"Doesn't matter." You shake your head, cutting him off. You search his face until his eyes meet yours. Jason thinks you've never looked sadder. "If someone's going to hurt you or kidnap you, they're gonna have to deal with me." Your voice is candid but there's a weight of heartbreak etched in every syllable.

He doesn't deserve it and Crane betrayed him and hurt him. Another person he trusted hurt him and yeah, he went behind Crane's back first but did he deserve this? And you're the one still offering him kindness through everything. He could have gotten you killed, twice, and you're sitting in front of him with sad but kind eyes and Jason hates who he's becoming.

Jason sucks in a shaky breath and there's a part of him that can't do it anymore. He can't deal with the heaviness or the way his chest feels like it's going to collapse in on itself. He can't deal with the spinning or the numbness or any of it. His head bows forward slowly until his forehead lands on your shoulder. Tears start to fall from his eyes and everything around him is fucked up and a mess and it's all his fault. Why did he do this? What has he become? Was he better off dead?

Maybe he was better off dead.

Your teeth grit together as you hear him sniffle and feel him shake. Hitting rock bottom shouldn't be like this because it's him. If only he knew that he always deserved better and believed it. Maybe if he was treated better from the beginning. Maybe if trying would have just been enough the first time around.

"Jay." You whisper, hearing a soft cry come from Jason's throat. "It's okay." You say softly, moving away just enough to get him to pick his head up. You shake your head at him, brows knitted together. "It's okay." You say again but this time you move closer and pull him into a hug and that's when Jason finally breaks entirely.

He's hurt so many people. And for what? He can feel the itch of withdrawal and the migraine kicking in. He wants to peel his skin off of his bones but his chest hurts and he doesn't think he can breathe. He sucks in a breath but all that comes from it is a cough and a cry. He wraps his arms around you and he feels you hug him tighter. Why are you doing this? He doesn't deserve it. Why did you even save him? Maybe he shouldn't be saved. Maybe Joker had it right the first time. Hank would be alive. Tim's dad would be okay. You wouldn't be mixed up in this. Dick wouldn't have been shot. Maybe it would be better if he had just stayed dead.

It feels that way anyway.

It's like a pull he can feel in the marrow of his bones, The betrayal to fate. He has no business being alive and he can feel it. Maybe that's how it should be. He was never very good at being good anyway and if he's no good, what's the point? He's more fucked up than he ever was before. Why does he bother trying? He should just be alone, it's what he deserves.

But, there's this voice in the back of his head that says maybe it's just the high this time. Whatever Crane has him on maybe it's messing with his head, maybe it's that and the betrayal of the night. Maybe it's the withdrawal. Maybe it's just a mix of everything.

So, he pulls away and your hands come to his face and it's like an instinct. There's no effort in you showing up and caring about him because you just do. And it's right now with your thumbs, rubbing the warm tears away that Jason starts to wonder if this is unconditional. There were always conditions to people loving him and he thought maybe yours was just that he was three for you, or maybe Crane was right about you using him. Maybe it was just that you felt obligated to him because of Deathstroke. But, he almost got you killed and you fought and he killed Hank and you're sitting in front of him, helping him as if it is the easiest thing you've ever done. You just do it and maybe that's unconditional, even when someone says they give up.

Jason's breath is shallow and ragged and he just can't breathe. He wants to remember what it feels like to breathe again. To breathe effortlessly.

"Hard to breathe." Jason mutters, tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

You nod your head before you rest your forehead against his. Your eyes close and you just sit like that. Jason's eyes close a few seconds later and he always wonders how you know what to do and say. No one ever did. Not like this. But, you do this and the act of you being there, in this moment, without even saying a word, gets Jason to suck in a full breath for the first time tonight. His tears start to slow down and the brutal thoughts about himself start to grow quiet. The only sound he can hear is his own breathing and the cars passing outside. He never thought silence could be so comforting.

You aren't sure if this night changes anything. Maybe he'll go right back to Crane but maybe he won't. Maybe tonight and last night stacked on top of each other is enough to get Jason back on solid ground. Maybe he's tired of drowning. You're hoping he's tired of it. And even if not, for tonight, you're going to let yourself believe he is. Because he was the one kidnapped and held hostage and betrayed. He was the one left alone and the only people willing to help him were you and Gar. Maybe letting him hit rock bottom was a good enough idea, but maybe you aren't willing to follow through with it. Not if it leads him here. There has to be another way.

There is always another way.

You pull away once Jason's breathing seems to be back to normal. "You okay?" You whisper, Jason seeing your own eyes turning a light shade of pink.

"I'm so fucking sorry." Jason coughs out. "For fucking everything."

"I know." You nod your head quickly, brows pulling together.

"No," Jason spits and he hates how his mouth feels like he's tried to swallow thirty cotton balls. "You don't fucking deserve it. None of you do. I'm so sorry." Jason's voice is pleading and begging and you wish you could take out of your own heart and replace it with his just to ease some of his pain.

"Jay, you're high. We can talk about it later, okay?" You nod your head. "Come on, let's get you to bed, okay? You gotta sleep it off. I don't know what he gave you." Your hands slide off of his face and back to his knees.

You would love to discuss this now but you're not sure how much of this he'll even remember when the high wears off. If you're going to talk, you want him to be sober. This isn't actually his fault this time but you still want him to be sober.

Jason nods his head, feeling more defeated than he already was. He's thinking you really mean it. You really are done and you really are giving up on him. You were just there so Crane didn't go too far and kill him. And he wants to take it all back.

"Hey, I promise, okay?" You nod your head softly, seeing the deflated look on his face. "We can talk tomorrow if you still want to, promise." You offer a subtle but reassuring smile and that seems to do the trick.

Jason nods softly again and accepts it. He's exhausted anyway and maybe him spuing apology after apology like this isn't going to get either of you anymore. Maybe you're right. He just hopes you mean it.

"Want help?" You ask.

Jason shakes his head, tugging his jacket off sloppily before telling you his spare clothes are in the broken dresser in the corner. You grab him a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from the drawer before moving back over to him. Jason struggles more and more trying to get the hoodie off, his limbs failing him as he grows defeated and exhausted. The breaking really used up all of his remaining energy.

"Lemme help." You rest the clothes beside him before you tug the hoodie off gently.

You help him take the armor off next, leaving him in a black tank top. And that's when you see two scars peaking out of the very edges of the tank top on his chest. Your heart plummets remembering exactly what he looked like after the autopsy. His face was mangled and pale, blood long cleaned off of his body and the stitches trailing from his chest down his abdomen. You wonder why those didn't heal but the marks on his face did. But, your heart breaks because now he's permanently marked with what happened to him. He'll never be able to forget it anyway, but now he has a physical reminder and that's just not fair. At least he can probably dye his hair if he wants but there's nothing to do about the scars.

Why did it have to happen to him?

You glance to his face, his eyes drooping and then you look at the white streak of hair. Jason said he thinks it's lame and you wonder what he thinks of the scars. You think he probably hates those, too. Another reminder. And you want to say something but what the hell are you supposed to say? Yeah, sorry Bruce had an autopsy performed? Didn't think you'd come back from the dead? That's ridiculous. But, you also can feel his stare falling back on you and he starts to shift. Not saying anything, that's always an option with him. You don't have to.

So, you don't. Instead, you just trace over them because that's what you always do to his scars. And Jason thinks he might cry again. He hates those fucking scars. The white streak he can deal with, but those scars? Why did Bruce even have it done? Was it not fucking obvious what the cause of death was? He was brutally murdered by a crowbar to the face, something he'll never forget, and now he has fucking autopsy scars. Those are a little hard to explain. At least if he had crowbar scars, they could be explained by a mugging. The white streak is just a choice. Autopsy scars? There's no normal explanation for those. But, then you run your thumbs over the scars anyway as if they're any other scar and Jason wants to combust. He thinks he might burst into flames right under your fingertips.

You offer a small but kind smile before you help him take his boots off. And something about him not refusing your help this time is kind of reassuring for once. Usually, Jason would be telling you he can do it himself and he's fine but now he's just quiet. A part of that is concerning but him letting you help without protest is nice and maybe he's coming around. Maybe he is off the drug.

Once Jason is out of his Red Hood gear, you help him get the other hoodie and pants on before Jason finally lays down. His head spins but his back starts to cramp in just the right way that starts to feel good. And all he wants to do is sleep this whole thing off.

You offer him a sad smile, resting your hand on his cheek. "Okay, I'm gonna head out. Call Dick if you change your mind and you wanna come home." You whisper before you go to stand up.

You don't really intend to leave. You figure you'll just go downstairs until he wakes up and then you can go from there. You don't want to overstep by staying here with him if he's not going to ask. At the end of the day, he's out of it and it's not really your place right now. Even if the very thought of leaving him alone makes you want to burst into tears.

Jason doesn't even think before he grabs your hand as you pull it away from his cheek. You haven't even gotten up. Your other hand is on your knee to help yourself up and you're looking at Jason, one brow raised and waiting. He doesn't want to be alone. Not this time. Just for tonight, he can't be alone.

"Can you stay...please?" Jason lets go of your hand, eyes looking up you, sad and pitiful.

It's like a knife is shoved through your ribs and right into your heart. How the hell could you ever say no to that? Jason Todd rarely asks people to stay and you already left him once. You're not doing it again. There will be another way because this? This isn't it. This is torture for him and for you and there is another way. You're not leaving him alone so you nod.

"Okay." You nod your head and Jason moves over. You sit down, moving the pillow up against the wall so you can lean against the wall comfortably. "You can lay down." You say softly, gesturing to your lap. "I can play with your hair until you fall asleep."

Jason eyes up you, barely keeping his eyes open but there's a warmth that consumes his chest this time. "Thanks for everything." He has no idea how he'll ever be able to repay you. But, he is so thankful you're here and that he's not alone. 

"You and me." You say right back as Jason lays his head down in your lap.

Tears prick his eyes as they close because it's still you and him. Somehow, against all odds, it's the two you. He does not deserve it but he's thankful and he loves you. His head is pounding and throbbing, dizzy and foggy but he finds himself thinking maybe he's done with Crane. After everything tonight and having you still show up, maybe you're right. You've tried to save him this whole time but all he's done is push. You stayed for him, at the very least, maybe he can try to stay for you and then himself. Even if it's too late to salvage anything between you.

Your fingers tangle through the white streak of hair, lightly rubbing his scalp and you think this feels normal. Some part of this feels normal and maybe you're starting to hope it can go back to normal if he comes back to the manor. Maybe he can forgive you. You forgive him. You forgave him the second you saw the look of withdrawal on his face. You forgave him for everything else the second your own high wore off. Maybe if he calls Dick, if he's really off of the drug, maybe it can go to normal and maybe Molly's right. Maybe you can find a way back.

You plead for you and Jason to be able to find your way back.

It doesn't take long for the exhaustion to take over and send Jason into a deep sleep. You can always tell when he really falls asleep because his leg twitches and then his entire body relaxes as if it's the only time he can really breathe. It's as if being awake is just too hard sometimes so when sleep does take over, his entire body just collapses on itself. You desperately wish it weren't so hard for him. It's not really your job anymore, but if there were a way to make it easier for him, you'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Hey." You whisper into the phone, your hand still running through Jason's hair.

"Is everything okay?" Gar asks quickly.

"We've been worried." Kory adds in and you figure you're on speaker and you wonder when Gar decided to loop them in.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Crane drugged him. He's asleep now." You watch the white fall over your fingers and then through them. His arm is draped lazily over your legs but keeping you in place and you wonder if it still feels safe like this for him. It does for you.

"He's asleep?" Dick questions and you think there might even be a softness to his voice.

"Yes." You answer back. "Whatever Crane drugged him with was enough to subdue him and now he's tired. So, he's asleep."

"Is that what he told you?" Dick asks and you just roll your eyes.

"No, but I could tell given he was tied to a chair and I had to help him walk. He was drugged." You mutter sternly, trying to keep your voice down.

"Is he okay?" Kory asks and you can hear the worry in her voice.

You keep your eyes on him and it's the same answer. It's always the same answer and you really, really hope one day it'll change.

"No." You answer. "He's not. But I got him."

Gar can hear the bitterness mixing with heartbreak in your tone. He's relieved you were able to get Jason and setting off the alarms works. He's a little surprised it worked since the three of you together don't seem to have the best of luck. But, you have Jason now and he knows you fought with Dick and Kory before leaving, about them not helping. Gar isn't sure you're going to be so willing to come back, especially if you're getting through to Jason.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Gar asks.

You swallow thickly. "No, I gotta stay. I can't leave him like this. But, I'll be back tomorrow."

"Did he tell you anything before he passed out?" Dick asks.

"He said he was really sorry but he, uh, he was really upset and drugged so I said we'd talk later. Then, he asked if I could stay. Um...I think maybe, he'll come around when he wakes up so if he calls you, Dick, you better answer and let him come home, okay?" Your words should be stern but instead, they're desperate and aching.

"Okay." Dick agrees simply, not willing to go back and forth this time. "Did you kill anyone tonight?"

"No, " You scoff. "I let them off with a warning for helping me."

Dick gains a soft smile. He didn't want you to go. He was really concerned for your safety, for all of the Titans' safety. But, you didn't kill anyone and you were right about Jason. You got him free and brought him somewhere safe, with just a little help from Gar. You had a plan of some sort and a backup just in case it was a trap. Dick hopes Jason realizes one day how lucky he is to have someone who's willing to learn from past mistakes and forgive and forget so easily. Not many people are willing to do that. And Dick is proud.

"Good work." Dick says. "Both of you." You can't see it but he offers Gar a simple nod.

You're still a little mad but it is nice to hear you did good for once. Bruce wasn't very much of a positive reinforcement kind of person. Jason always said you were doing a good job but it was different and that's when you finally get it.

Molly and Gar were right. It was never about you being enough for him because it's different. Your validation is important but you weren't the one who gave him the suit. You weren't the one that took him in. Jason always knew you were doing good and you're good at being a vigilante but hearing it from Dick, means something different.

It's like you expect Jason to think you're good because he loves you and that's the thing. Of course, you always believed in him because you love him. That was never the issue. Dick's been doing this for over ten years. Bruce even longer. And Dick was the one who said you could be a Titan. It was Dick that introduced you to it. Like Bruce introducing Jason to it. It's different hearing it from the person who believed in you. It never had anything to do with you.

"Thank you." You say softly, a soft smile on your lips. "I'm gonna go. Thanks for letting me do this and not following me." You say. "I'll be back tomorrow." You sigh before you hang up, resting your phone on the floor beside the mattress before you rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes. 

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IM SOBBING

I'm BEGGING for a continuation of the drabble where Reader breaks up with Jason

Thinking of him injured and alone after almost dying is killing me 😭

this got more serious than i intended lol but i hope you like it anon! finally there is resolution!

jason todd x gn!reader. tw jason almost dies, hints of self destructive behavior, guilt, communication (i am forcing the batboys to be good communicators!!!), injured jason, dick being the bestest goodest big brother.

pt 2 to this

****

It's extremely stupid for you to be out this late, but if you hadn't left tonight, you'd probably never leave. And you needed to leave. You can't sustain whatever you and Jason had.

Asking him to quit would've been unfair, and you know he won't do it. This city pulls him back in every time.

"Where ya headed?" the cab driver asks. He doesn't look too shady. He'll definitely overcharge you, but at this point, you don't care. You just want to go home.

"Gotham Heights." You don't give him the exact address, but someplace close enough.

It's begun to rain. You try not to think about how you just left Jason. You turned off your phone as soon as you closed the door; you know he's probably calling like crazy, but as soon as you answer, you'll go back.

And you can't.

You blink back tears. You can't keep watching him throw himself into worse and worse danger. Jason fights crime like he'd sooner let it kill him. One day, it will.

The car pulls up to a stoplight. You're dozing; it's nearly eleven o'clock after all.

Suddenly, something lands on the hood. You jump, heart dropping.

"What the fuck?!" the driver squawks.

Nightwing perches on the hood of the cab. He lightly taps the windshield.

"Evening. Mind pulling over?" he asks pleasantly. "I'm actually their designated driver tonight."

"Nightwing!" you snap, hot with anger. "Get off the car!"

"You shut off your phone and left," Dick says, those white lenses zeroed in on you. His tone is cutting. "He's losing his mind. You know we don't go dark."

You close your eyes briefly. "We almost lost him, 'Wing," you croak.

"So your instinct was to leave?"

"Alright, that's it! Get outta the car," the driver says, unlocking the doors. "Fuckin' crazies..."

Dick opens the door for you and tosses a roll of twenties on the seat. The cab speeds off. You wrap your arms around yourself as he guides you to the sidewalk.

Several emotions cross Dick's face, before he lands on one. Sympathy.

"What happened?" he asks softly.

Your face crumples. "He died, Dick."

"I know," he says, holding your elbow. "I was scared too. But he's okay. He's the toughest guy I know."

"How am I supposed to keep him alive?" you ask desperately. "I can't."

Dick frowns. "That's not your job. I wouldn't expect that of you, and I know Jason doesn't either. None of us do."

You press your palms to your eyes and start to cry for real.

"I just want him to be okay. Every time he goes out, I think it'll be the last time I see him. I love him too much to lose him, Dick."

Dick hums. "Have you told him this?"

You shrug, wiping your eyes with your hand. "Some of it. I-" You wince. "I yelled before I left. He was being so nonchalant about it, and I know it was so I wouldn't worry, but..."

"I know. He can be a real pinhead about some things, but Jason's on it when it counts. He loves you a lot, and I think he'd want to know you're feeling this way."

You rub your eyes so hard you see shapes. "I don't know, Dick. I don't know if I can tonight."

Dick sighs sadly. "Alright. Look, I'll take you home. But can you at least tell him you're okay? He called me up, terrified. Said he dreamt you were in an accident."

Nightmares. The guilt triples.

You turn on your phone. Ten missed calls and fifteen unread texts pop up.

[10:38pm] Baby please come back

At least text me you're okay

I messed up, and you can leave, but at least tell me you're safe

[10:42pm] I'm calling Dick

Sweetheart don't get into a car

[10:43pm] Please don't I have a bad feeling about it

Call me please

You sniffle and tap on Jason's contact. The phone rings once before he picks up.

"Baby? Hi, hi. God, fuck. Are you okay? Is Dick there?"

Jason sounds wrecked. His voice is raw like he's been crying. Tears start to build up in your own eyes.

"H-hey, Jay. Yeah, I'm okay. Dick is here."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have scared you. Shouldn't have been reckless. I won't do that again. I won't patrol alone anymore. I'll-I'll work with Batman again. I called him just now. Told him I'd be at the Cave next week."

"Jay, don't force yourself to work with Batman for me," you say, your stomach a pit. "I don't want you to do something that'll make you miserable."

It's been better, lately, Jason's relationship with his family. It's not perfect, but then again, you wouldn't expect a family that dresses up in Halloween costumes every night to fight crime to be perfect.

"It won't!" Jason says. "Look, B and I have our differences. That's for damn sure. But I'm not so mad about it these days. And I should be safer. You were right. I want to come home to you, sweetheart, I do. If that means working in a team, then I'll do it. I'll do whatever will make us both happy and safe."

You squeeze your eyes shut. "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner, Jay. I should've been."

"Oh." Jason sounds heartbroken. You can imagine him running a rough hand through his hair right now, tearing through the strands. "No, no, no. Baby, my love, listen. I don't blame you for any of this. That's not your responsibility. It's my job to keep myself alive. And Leslie's, once in a while. But I don't expect that from you. Never from you."

It's quiet for several moments. Then Jason speaks again, tone timid.

"Have I... did I make you feel that way?"

"No, you didn't," you say, opening your eyes. "Not directly. But... I don't know, Jay, I've just felt like there's nothing holding you back some days. You fight like you're fighting something inside of you." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I don't want it to burn you out for good."

Not again, you don't say.

Dick bows his head, and suddenly, you're there, watching them lower Jason Todd's body into the ground.

"I won't let it," Jason whispers. "I won't. I'm sorry I did this to you. Made you feel like this. I only ever wanna be good for you. I'm-I'm trying to be good."

Your lip trembles. "I wanna come home, Jay."

Jason makes a desperate sound, like a wounded animal. "Please come home, baby. I don't want you to leave. Wanna hold you so bad."

"Okay." You nod at the phone and look at Dick. "Can you take me home?"

He smiles, small and hopeful. "Of course."

****

Jason nearly tears the door off of its hinges before you can knock. He's probably been listening for your footsteps all evening. Your throat tightens.

"Hi, baby, hi, hi," Jason says, bracing himself against the doorframe as he pulls you into a hug. "Missed you so much. Love you so much. I'll be better, it'll be better. I promise."

You kiss his shoulder and bury your face in his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat. A-live, a-live, a-live, it says.

"Thanks, Dickie," Jason murmurs into your skin.

"Sure thing, Little Wing," Dick says, and you think he might sound a little misty-eyed. Sentimental sap.

"Thanks, D," you say softly, and Dick squeezes your shoulder.

"Get some sleep, both of you."

"You first," Jason says, and Dick laughs on his way out.

You help Jason inside, tucked under his arm, and this time, he lets you guide him to the bed. He allows you removal of your shoes and jeans before tugging you in with him.

"I'll be better," he vows, and rolls you over so you're face-to-face. "I promise."

"I believe you," you say, thumb brushing over his salt-streaked cheek. "I'm sorry I went dark, sweetie."

He shakes his head. "'S okay. Well, I mean, it's not, but I understand. I just want you safe. And here. But only if you wanna be here. I won't force you."

"Of course I want to be here, Jay," you say, kissing his cheek. "There's no place I'd rather be. I just... I want us to live."

Jason swallows and nods.

"I'll live. I will. For both of us."

Hii I am more of a silent reader but really want to start making requests but if you don't like this request you totally don't have to do it. All so if this is too long sorry.

So maybe a Jason prompt with "why not them why me" like they have been spending more time with the Bat boys, making Jason jealous. They confesses they did it to be liked by her boyfriend's family.

Hey anon! Thanks for the request. I tweaked it a little, but it's got the same theme you requested. Hope you like!

jason todd x gn!reader. jealous/sad jason, happy ending, proposal, established relationship. he's the goodest boy. ft the batbros.

****

It's close to nine PM when Dick finally drops you off home.

You turn to Damian first and hold out your hand, expecting him to give you his usual handshake goodbye.

Instead, Damian pats your shoulder and gives you a nod. You blink, startled.

"Today was enjoyable," he says, holding the book about saltwater creatures that he got from the zoo. "I will inform Todd that he has chosen well."

In Damian speak, you may as well have gotten a hug and a blessing.

"Oh," you say, trying not to tear up. "Thank you, Damian. I had a good time, too. Thank you both for spending the day with me."

"This was a test," Damian says, and Dick rolls his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Dami, stop calling it a test. It wasn't a test."

"Richard, I don't know why you insist on lying. They obviously have figured out that it was a test. In any case, they've passed, so it doesn't matter."

You hide a smile as Dick gives up and gets out of the car. He opens your door.

"I'll see you later, Damian," you say. "Good luck with your science test."

"I do not need luck," Damian replies. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye."

You follow Dick into your apartment building. You're happy; last week, you spent the day with Tim and Cassandra. The week before that, you officially met Bruce and Alfred.

Dick and Damian were the last "test," and the ones you were most nervous about. From what Jason's told you about his family, Dick and Damian, while total opposites in temperament, are extremely shrewd in their judgments of character, and not easy to please. For all that Dick is friendly and warm, you know he's studying your every move to ensure that you're a good match for his little brother. Not that you blame them; you're sure that being children of a billionaire has resulted in some awful dates.

Today was your fourth outing with Dick, and your second with Damian. At first, Damian seemed totally closed off to you, which you understood. You're his brother's partner; what twelve year old gives a shit about that?

But you feel you've made good progress today. You feel like the Wayne's really like you, and don't just tolerate you because they have to.

"Please don't listen to him," Dick says while you wait for the elevator. "Damian thinks every social interaction is a test. We're working on it."

"It's okay," you say, because it is. "I get it. I'm glad I passed."

Dick shakes his head. "It was never a matter of passing. We thought you were great the first time Jason introduced you to us."

"Dick..." You melt at that, both out of relief and fondness. Dick is probably your favorite one of Jason's brothers, after Damian, of course. He's the most sympathetic to your attempts at connecting with the family and the one who's the gentlest with you.

He smiles, all sunshine, and you're abruptly glad that Jason has a family like this one.

"Are you gonna ask him this week?" Dick asks.

You bite your lip, unable to hide your smile. "I think so. What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect. He doesn't like all that fuss. And you'll be letting him know that you want to marry just him. Not when you're dressed up, on a date, but all of him."

"I do," you say, voice thick. "I do want that, D."

He nods, eyes soft. "I know. I'll see you next week," he says. "Don't worry about the dinner, okay? You're practically family now. And I expect to see a ring!"

He pulls you into a quick hug, and you sag in relief. You did well. It's been confirmed.

"Thank you," you say softly.

The elevator doors open. Dick lets you go, and you wait for the doors to close before you go to your apartment.

"You're out late."

You jump, almost dropping your bag of zoo souvenirs. Jason is leaning against the couch, arms folded. You laugh a little, holding your chest.

"Jay, you scared me! Jeez."

You go to him and lean in for a kiss. He dodges you, slipping away to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

You blink owlishly, trying to process what just happened.

"Um," you begin. "Is everything okay?"

"So where was it this time?" Jason asks. "Escape room? Art museum? Some other place you can't be seen with me?"

"Jason, what are you talking about?"

He finally looks at you. His gaze is intense, lethal. It makes you take a step back. He turns away.

"Where'd you go today? And be honest."

"We went to the zoo, and then we went to dinner. Me, Dick, and Damian. Jay, what's this about?"

Jason looks up. His gaze is no longer lethal; now it's just melancholy.

"Are you with me to get to them?" he asks.

"Get to who?"

"The Bats. Gotham's finest. Bruce Wayne's rag-tag group of orphans he can't stop collecting."

"Are you asking me if I'm in this relationship to get to your family?" you ask, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking if you like my media-trained, not-undead family who you can actually spend time with publicly. I'm asking if you like my Boy Wonder brother, who'd probably show you a better time than I can."

"Jason Wayne, I have never cheated on you or thought about cheating on you. With Dick or anyone else," you say firmly. "Now, what's this about?"

Jason's face falls.

"You're right," he says quietly. "That was stupid 'f me to say. I know you're faithful, baby."

He won't look you in the eye now. It is reminiscent of the beginning of your relationship when Jason would retreat whenever you argued. It wasn't until you confronted him about it that you learned that he thought every argument was your last and that you'd break up with him the next day.

"Jay," you say, getting closer. "Something's obviously bothering you. Talk to me, please."

He stays quiet. You get close enough to touch him, but you don't, in case he's not ready to be touched yet.

"Why me?" he rasps.

"Why you what?"

He takes a sharp breath. "Why not them? Why me? Why d'you bother with me?"

"Jay, baby, where's this coming from? I don't bother with you, I love you. I am in a relationship with you because I want to be."

"You've hung out with them this whole month," he mumbles. "And I know we can't go out anytime 'cause I'm technically dead, but I just—I mean, we could work something out if you really wanna go. I wanna do that stuff with you too."

"Jason, no, no," you say, and reach for him. This time, he lets you pull him into a hug, and you kiss his chin. He makes a soft sound in his throat.

"Oh, honey, is that what this is about? You think I'm replacing you?"

"'S happened before," he mumbles, and you screw your face up so you won't cry at that.

"Jason, I—" You take a deep breath and release him until you're holding his hands. "Fuck me, I guess there's no time like the present."

Jason squints. "What're you—"

"I met them to ask for their blessing," you say before you can lose your nerve. "I hung out with them because I wanted to make sure they'd like me, and I should've told you, but I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"Keep what a surprise? Sweetheart, what's—"

You let go of Jason's hands and get down on one knee. Jason's eyes go wide.

"Holy fuck," he says, and you laugh wetly.

"Jaybird, we've been together for a long time, and I'm positive that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I hung out with your family this month so I could be sure that we'd get along. Because I know they're important to you, even if you have your rough patches."

"Holy fuck," Jason says again, eyes glassy.

You smile and pull out the black velvet box with the ring that Alfred had helped you choose.

"Jason Wayne, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you—mmph!"

Jason is on you in an instant, and the box tumbles from your hand. He presses you to the floor and kisses you hard, his hands squeezing your waist.

"Jay, this part is supposed to come after we get married, not before," you say when he finally lets you break for air.

"What can I say? Commitment gets me hot."

You wrap your arms around his neck, comfortable under him. Jason kisses you again, softer and sweeter.

"So is that a yes?" you ask.

"It's an emphatic yes, oui, si, ja, da..."

"Okay, I get it, Bruce put you in private school," you say, rolling your eyes. Jason pinches your hip and you squeal.

He rolls you over so you're atop him.

"I'm sorry I said those things," he says. "I didn't—I know you wouldn't do that. I was just upset, but I shouldn't have accused you out of anger."

"I forgive you," you say and kiss his temple. "It's not the last fight we'll have, and if I was afraid of a few arguments, I wouldn't ask you to marry me, Jay. Thank you for communicating."

"Fuck, I love ya," he whispers, and hugs you tighter.

"Ditto!" you say, and he snorts.

"So my entire family knows I'm getting married then, huh?"

"What? No. I only told Dick."

Jason laughs. "Yeah. Everybody definitely knows."

"Jay, I didn't mean..."

"Aw, baby, no, it's okay. I never thought I'd actually make it this far, so it's really okay." He kisses your nose when you start to frown. "And I'm the first Wayne to get married for real. Suck it, B!"

"Please don't put that in your vows, Jay."

Jason grins so hard, his cheeks puff out.

"No promises, fiance."

this makes me sob every time i read it

Emergency Contact

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Leave me something - or let me out. I'm starving. Push me, pull me. Waiting for the start of:

Things that I want, this happily ever after. You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster. Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.

Summary:

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you're both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it's very stubborn on both your parts.

Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

Word Count: 10,400

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).

sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.

mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.

A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It's a newer song, and it's one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone's emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.

This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don't have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

...

If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd. 

The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits? 

But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off. 

If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for. 

It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least. 

Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you. 

… 

You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him. 

He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive. 

When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up. 

“Who are your friends?” He asked. 

As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice. 

It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes. 

“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed. 

“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question. 

“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience. 

“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand. 

“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang. 

He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear. 

“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement. 

“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.” 

You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time. 

“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh. 

“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason. 

This left you confused. But you didn’t question it. 

“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained. 

“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self. 

“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face. 

“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded. 

Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked. 

“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of. 

Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again. 

“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?” 

It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish. 

Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about. 

“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit. 

It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you. 

“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact. 

“No way.” You scoffed. 

“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.

“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together. 

“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity. 

“I am.” Dick said firmly. 

“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips. 

“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said. 

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit. 

You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words. 

He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer. 

“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-” 

“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.” 

Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air. 

“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was. 

Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours. 

“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so. 

It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by. 

His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it. 

When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment. 

“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked. 

You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him. 

“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink. 

You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle. 

When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you. 

Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him. 

… 

When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging. 

Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick. 

You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts. 

Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock. 

Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting. 

When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 

You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him. 

You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun. 

When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages. 

You had no clue that you’d end up living together. 

When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall. 

You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional. 

You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean. 

… 

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.” 

“Shut up.” 

The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended. 

You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments. 

Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him. 

You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words. 

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes. 

He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies. 

“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.” 

He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words. 

“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.” 

He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face. 

“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.” 

He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail. 

“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?” 

He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear. 

“How many times did you cum thinking about me?” 

“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him. 

“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed. 

Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both. 

In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that. 

… 

You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind. 

It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day. 

The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex. 

Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up. 

You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up. 

… 

It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you. 

When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile. 

You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl. 

“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle. 

“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.” 

You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box. 

“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs. 

You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead. 

“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.” 

You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee. 

“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.” 

Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans. 

“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’” 

It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others. 

“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’” 

But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock. 

But you would never admit that he was right. 

“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won. 

But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that. 

Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you. 

You just glared, and he smirked once more. 

When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done. 

“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed. 

“I know.” You grinned at him. 

He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you. 

… 

Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice. 

Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him. 

But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will. 

When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong. 

You went through the stages of grief like a rocket. 

Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.

Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval? 

Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you? 

Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn. 

And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it. 

So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed. 

You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done. 

And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.  

… 

Hectic. 

That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower. 

Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up. 

Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal. 

But you weren’t truly worried about any of that. 

Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision. 

Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason. 

The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him. 

The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner. 

After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection. 

You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened. 

So you took the leap. 

You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door. 

A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you. 

His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him. 

“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight. 

“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.” 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life. 

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.” 

It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects. 

He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired. 

You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you. 

“You’re hurt.” He said quietly. 

He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself. 

“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own. 

It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair. 

Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt. 

“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you. 

Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now. 

Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over. 

“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.” 

That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury. 

“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence. 

Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you. 

“You need this treated.” He added on. 

No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly. 

“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.” 

“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.” 

The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound. 

“Jason-” 

You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you. 

But of course, he cut you off. 

“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore. 

He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites. 

You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion. 

But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him. 

Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.

“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you. 

He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it. 

“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm. 

It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed. 

You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it. 

But, no dice. 

The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to. 

It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse. 

Jason sighed through his nose. 

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?” 

Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you. 

When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.

This was quiet, and calm, and gentle. 

When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound. 

His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it. 

“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?” 

It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind. 

“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.” 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you. 

… 

Dick explicitly told you to stay put. 

They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader. 

Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him. 

You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Jason!” 

You screamed out his name, you leapt forward. 

Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started. 

Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.) 

Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side. 

At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason. 

His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass. 

You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen. 

Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him. 

Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you. 

You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt. 

Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once. 

“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists. 

The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety. 

Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding. 

Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off. 

… 

You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant. 

“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk. 

It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you. 

It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke. 

You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time. 

“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.” 

It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them. 

You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him. 

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.” 

There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line. 

‘Maybe I just have to care.’ 

Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it. 

After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable. 

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.” 

There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning. 

You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze. 

‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’ 

The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely. 

“It’s nothing.” You told him. 

You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from. 

Jason shook his head at this statement. 

He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it. 

When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain. 

After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes. 

“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply. 

You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it. 

Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble. 

Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize. 

There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident. 

Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth. 

“I meant what I said.” You told him. 

At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened. 

He didn’t find any. 

You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound. 

… 

The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could. 

When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street. 

Panic flooded you. 

You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately. 

“Don’t move!” He shouted. 

“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back. 

Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason. 

Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes. 

He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him. 

When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him. 

“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die. 

There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him. 

His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart. 

“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.” 

You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning. 

He thought he was a dead weight to your life. 

“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!” 

You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you. 

“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully. 

You ignored him. 

You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting. 

“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!” 

“You have to let go.”

Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him. 

But of course, you refused. 

“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.” 

As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more. 

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of. 

He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned. 

So Jason did what he had to do. 

He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip. 

“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-” 

You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself. 

You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely. 

You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground. 

… 

If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him. 

When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat. 

You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it. 

“All done.” He said quietly. 

You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place. 

“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you. 

You felt your heart sink. 

In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there. 

You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave. 

It was something else. 

It had to be something else. 

Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you. 

He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours. 

And now he was trying to back down from that. 

You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.

The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first. 

In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey. 

You were both so vulnerable. 

Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed. 

If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that. 

He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things. 

As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask. 

You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you. 

You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly. 

You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe. 

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through. 

He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you. 

“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin. 

He knew that it would break him. 

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him. 

Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought. 

You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you. 

“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was. 

“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat. 

Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you. 

You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible. 

“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.” 

You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back. 

“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.” 

Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen. 

“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips. 

Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once. 

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body. 

He would never be perfect - but he was yours.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, so if you saw this fic posted on there, it is my fic. Please do not accusing me of plagiarising fics if you see this, because this is my own fic. This is my new blog. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

Petrichor [12]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 12,719

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, violence, canon violence, manipulation, gunshot wounds, mentions of drug use, drug use, reader is fed the fuck up, description of withdrawal (kind of??)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I really do just love angst so much lmao You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The next day Jason is with Crane. Jason is still reeling from last night. Dick knows pretty much everything now and that wasn’t a part of the plan. Jason thinks it’s only a matter of time before Dick shows back up and destroys the entire thing. It’s only a matter of time before Dick ruins everything all over again. And he thinks about you and how mad and worried you were. It’s all growing a bit too heavy for him, even with the drug. But, he pushes Crane anyway.

The sooner they get this plan in action, the better. The sooner Jason can take care of Dick, the better. But, Crane isn’t having any of it. Crane wants to go through with his plan but he’s also not telling Jason a single thing about it. It’s like Jason is just a piece in his game, a pawn. Doing all of the bidding and only knowing what’s going on when he actually needs to in order to do Crane's bidding. But, Jason shakes that thought off because Crane cares about him. Crane wouldn’t be just using him. Right?

“I met that girl of yours.” Crane states, getting tired of Jason’s pestering about going after Dick.

“I heard.” Jason quips, his voice snippy and harsh.

“She is a handful, isn’t she?”

Jason knows what he’s doing and he won’t. He can be as high as Crane wants him to be but he still has a line. And that line is you. It is always you. Anyone but you.

“I can handle her.” Jason states.

“Can you? You can fight better than her. You've had the training. But, like Dick Grayson, she walked away from last night.” Crane lets out a wistful sigh. “And she threatened to kill me.” Crane looks to be hurt as the words leave his lips. Jason knows better than to think someone threatening Crane's life would hurt his feelings. “Doesn’t it bother you that her and Bruce didn’t kill the Joker for you?” Crane asks and Jason’s eyes land on the floor. “I mean,” Crane lets out another sigh. “That maniac killed you and they couldn’t be bothered to kill him for you. Sam is at least a killer now but not for you. I, though, I brought you back.” Crane gives Jason a sinister smile as he places a hand on his shoulder.

Jason hates it because Crane makes a point. Bruce couldn’t even bend his morals for him. Bruce said he was his son and he took him in, he let him be Robin. Bruce was supposed to protect him and everyone else. But, then he couldn’t even kill the Joker. He’s not asking him to kill Two-face or The Riddler or even Crane, but he should have killed the Joker for him. That’s the part that hurts. And you turn around and starts taking out lowlives but you didn’t even hit the Joker first. Not even for him and you've been wanting his blood on your hands since your mom died. But, somehow, that wasn’t enough for even you. Jason, though, does know someone killed him. And he knows what you said about what him dying did to you. He thinks that person just beat you to it. Bruce though, even Dick. Dick could have killed him, too and he didn’t. No one that claims to care about him at all killed the Joker for him and none of you brought him back. Jonathan Crane brought him back from the dead. Not the people who care bout him.

“This isn’t about her. It’s about Dick.” Jason shakes his head because you're still the line. Despite it all, you're the line he won’t cross.

Jason knows, under the haze of the drug, you would have brought him back from the dead if you knew how. And if it were something you knew he'd want. You would have fought and chewed into fate and the Reaper with nothing but your bare hands just to bring him back. You would have killed the Joker if someone didn't beat you to it. After everything going on, you're still the one person who hasn't given up on him.

You're the line.

“See, that’s your problem. It’s not just about Dick Grayson. It’s about all of Gotham and your girlfriend is a part of that.”

“Okay.” Jason states, unsure where else he could possibly be going with this.

“She’s going to be a problem, just like that older brother of yours.” Crane warns as he turns back around as he walks into the little office building. “She’ll come after me eventually and then I bet she’ll come after you, with Dick Grayson at her side.”

“She’s not a problem.” Jason defends.

You could have killed him last night. If the first knife would have missed, you would have had a second one already in the air on its way to his jugular. If you want someone dead with a knife, you're more than capable but instead, you didn’t. You've had opportunities to kill him and fight him at full force but you don’t. You aren’t the problem, no matter what Crane says.

“Isn’t she? She still wants you to join their side and turn me in, the person who has helped you the most. Haven’t you thought about her using you? Her fear drove her to you and now she’s lost. She doesn’t know who is without you because she got to try to fix you and distract herself from it. You got her to live in that fancy mansion.” Crane says and Jason, right about now, is pretty glad he left out more about you.

Crane pushes sometimes for more information but Jason deflects and pulls information about anyone else he can. Jason won’t let Crane target you. That’s not how this partnership is going to work. It doesn’t matter. Jason Todd doesn’t make very many promises, but he made a promise to you and he’s not breaking it. You don’t break your promises to him.

“She’s not using me. I can get her to join our side.” Jason states, his voice growing more annoyed.

“Then why haven’t you?”

“That wasn’t part of the plan.” Jason lies.

“If I told you to give her the drug and help us, would you?” Crane asks, his brows slightly furrowing with the question because he’s already pretty sure he knows the answer.

Crane doesn’t know you already took the drug. Crane also doesn’t know the real reason Jason burned down his lab. Jason told Crane he was just covering his tracks after Hank. He knew Dick would be digging deeper and he might find it. That isn’t actually a complete lie, that’s probably what would have happened if Dick didn’t already find it. But, the real reason was that he didn’t want you going back and making more of it and taking it. He feels the comedown and sure, while he’s high or when he’s desperate not to feel that way again, it feels worth it. In those moments it always feels worth it but you were always better with dealing with your shit than he was. He doesn’t want you involved with Crane and he doesn’t want you addicted to the drug. You deserve better.

He’d never give you the drug. He’d never ask you to work alongside Crane.

“Yeah, she would do it. She’s just as fucked up as I was.” Jason lies through his teeth, shifting his weight to his right foot.

Crane nods his head but he met you. You're not scared, not in the way Jason was. He can tell you have her own issues but you're not like Jason when Jason showed up at Arkham. “Maybe she’s not who you thought she was.” Crane sighs. “You should really be focused on taking care of her with Dick, if that’s your goal that is.”

“No.” Jason states firmly. “Not happening.” Jason scoffs. “She’s not a fucking problem. She fights with Dick all the damn time and she fought him last night with me. Nothing to worry about.” Jason shakes his head, still a little confused what that was even about.

“Oh, I’m not worried.” Crane states. “You are. If you don’t take care of her, you’ll always be stuck here. You’ll never be able to get to your full potential because you’re too worried about what she’ll do. Maybe what she’ll think of you. Though, I have to say, she is not pleased with you over that Hawk fellow.”

“And she still fought Dick for me.” Jason urges. “Clearly, she doesn’t have that big of a problem with it.”

“I’m just giving you my advice. You want to be fearless but you’re still scared of what she’ll do and what she thinks of you.” Crane tsks.

“I’m not taking care of her. I want to go after Dick. Look, we know the drug works. I’m exhibit one.” Jason states, trying to deflect from you. It can’t be you.

“You’ll see, my boy.” Crane states.

The night before rings through your head like a migraine you can't quit. You and Dick got back pretty later, or rather early in the morning. Dick was instant he could take care of the gunshot wound on his own. He'd done it before, apparently. So, that left you to your room alone and sleeping didn't come too easy.

You could have had both of them but Dick just wouldn't listen and Jason doesn't listen and you're too damn loyal to him. If it were anyone else, you could have thrown a knife to injure them and you would have had him and then could have gotten Crane. But, it's Jason and you don't want to hurt him even if hurting him could bring him back and end up being for his own good. You just won't take the risk. And it sucks. And then you almost got shot because Jason and Dick can't work out their problems like normal people with an actual conversation. You're stuck in the middle of the two of them and you don't even know how the hell that happened.

And then there's the way Jason looked at you when you asked him to come home.

The drug must have been wearing off because he looked scared and for the life of you, you don't know why he would be so scared to come home. Yes, he killed Hank and that's bad but everyone attacked Gar while possessed and moved on from that. Gar killed people when he was being controlled. Jason is killing people while he's manipulated and drugged. None of them have attempted to do anything about any of the people you've killed. Dick just let Bruce walk right out after killing the Joker. Jason shouldn't be scared to come home and you feel horrible he clearly does. Getting him back just got a lot more difficult it seems and you're starting to second guess where you should stand in all of it.

You walk into the Batcave where you find Gar and Kory, looking to be researching something on the Batcomputer. You're best guess is they're trying to track down Jason. That's the only thing anyone is doing these days anyway.

"There you are!" Gar yells with excitement and relief as he rushes to you.

Gar's been worried. You and Dick went off without an explanation and didn't come back last night. Neither of you could even be bothered to answer a phone or keep the phones on for that matter. Kory hadn't heard anything and neither did Connor. He's relieved to see you're okay, even if you're looking a little out of it.

"Oh, yeah, hey." You let out a sigh as Gar brings you in for a hug.

"Where were you last night?" Kory questions. "And where is Dick?"

"And what happened?" Gar asks as he pulls away.

You furrow your brows, looking between them as your heart misses a beat. "W-what do you mean?"

Have they really not seen Dick? You might not have slept long or well but Dick is still, somehow, usually always awake. At least here like maybe the manor is haunting him in its own way. But, Kory and Gar are watching you expectantly and you worry maybe something went wrong with the whole gunshot thing.

"I don't think it's some coincidence you and Dick disappeared yesterday and stopped answering your phones." Kory crosses her arms.

Your jaw opens and closes a few times. "Uh..I mean...yeah..." You offer a yikes expression, squinting your eye slightly.

"Explain, now." Kory states sternly.

"Well, uh, you see...you haven't seen Dick or...heard from him?" You ask slowly.

"No." Kory grows more annoyed by the second.

"Not since he dropped Dawn off." Gar offers, hoping you get to the point soon.

You suck in a breath as you tug your sleeves over your hands. "Uh, yeah...so Dick got, uh shot. But, he was fine."

"So, you just went to bed?!" Gar asks.

"And you didn't think to come get me? Or any of us?" Kory demands.

"He said he had it and he's been shot before. I wasn't gonna argue with him."

"Since when? You argue with him all the time." Gar shakes his head in disbelief. Of all times you aren't going to argue with Dick, it's when he's shot. He could be bleeding out somewhere.

"Yes, I was not in the mood last night." You defend your stance as regret starts to chew at your stomach.

Kory lets out a groan. "And where did you last see him?"

"In the living room? Before I went to bed." You state but before you start giving up more answers, the one and only finally makes his way into the Batcave. "Oh, thank fuck." You let out a breath of relief.

"What happened!?" Kory asks quickly, immediately rushing over to Dick who's a little unsteady on his feet.

You and Gar watch the two of them and you can't help the grin that comes to your lips. Rachel made jokes about the two of them and said she thought it was weird but they'd be cute together. You get it now. Kory ran to him in the same you would have if it were Jason. Dick is clearly the idiot between the two of them.

You eye Gar. "Bet you ten bucks it'll be Kory to close the deal when she gets tired of waiting for him to get his shit together."

"I'm not gonna bet on that." Gar whispers with a soft grimace.

"Because you'll lose?" You raise, offering him a smirk.

"Yes." Gar chuckles. "I don't know if Dick is capable of having that conversation unprovoked."

You nod, rolling your eyes. "Batboys." You let out a sigh. "Okay, I give Kory a month."

"Four, tops." Gar sticks out his hand and you shake it with a soft laugh before you and Gar follow Kory and Dick to the medbay.

Dick takes off his shirt and reveals a gunshot wound on the upper left side of his chest. You furrow your brows. It looks nasty and his entire chest is covered in blood, most of it dry but some of it still looks fresh. Kory shakes her head, grabbing the supplies to stitch up the wound. Gar and you watch for a few minutes, mostly grimacing at the sight of it.

"Dude, that looks horrible." Gar scrunches his nose.

"Five inches over and we'd be burying another body." Kory says as she starts addressing the wound.

"Dude, seriously?" You huff. "You said you'd take care of that." You roll your eyes. You wonder how he could be so dumb. And reckless. It's not like it's a cut or a scrape. It's a literal gunshot wound close to his heart.

Kory stops what she's doing to look at you, Gar nearly snapping his head at you. Dick just glares at you, looking more annoyed than usual.

"What?" You ask, looking between all of them with wide eyes. "What'd I do now?"

"Let him go to bed with a gunshot wound and not tell anyone." Gar mutters under his breath, making you snap your entire attention on him. That's uncharacteristic.

"I'm not gonna force someone to let me help clean up their wounds." You mutter right back, earning a glare of disbelief from Gar. "Okay, unless it's Jaon or you." You snip back. "Sorry." Your eyes widen, looking between the three of them.

Gar keeps his stare on you. You're supposed to be friends and you're not looping him to anything anymore. You and Dick go off to fuck knows where and Dick almost gets killed. They're trying to find Jason since he went dark and you two can't be bothered to work as a team with the team. It's ridiculous. You're supposed to be a family.

"Explain." Kory warms, looking between you and Dick.

"It's nothing." Dick states, watching Kory stitch the wound.

"Nothing?!" Kory yells. "You two went off last night without a word! We deserve an explanation."

Dick pauses and you're not about to be on Kory's bad side. If Dick wants to piss Kory off, that's all on him. You do not want to do that. Kory is usually very nice but you have a feeling being on her bad side could get ugly. Plus, it's Kory.

"Jason's working with Jonathan Crane so we kidnapped him and took him to the cabin to lure Jason there. Then Jason and Dick started fighting and I helped. And then a helicopter came and Dick got shot." You explain simply.

The room falls silent for a few seconds as everyone looks between you and Dick. Kory wants to know why everyone who manages to get involved with Bruce Wayne ends up being some of the most reckless people she's ever encountered. Gar is piecing together everything you've told him and now he's even more frustrated. You and Dick went after Scarecrow and decided you could take him on and Jason on your own without any issues. You both didn't even have a backup plan. And Gar is realizing you not only took Jason's drug, but if it's Scarecrow, it was probably something he designed. You took a drug Scarecrow designed and knew that. Then neglected to tell everyone that piece of information.

You both could have died last night and everyone is supposed to just be normal about that. After everything.

"Wow, thanks." Dick quips.

"I'm not gonna disobey Kory. That's all you." You shake your head as you cross your arms over your chest but you can feel Gar's eyes still boring into you.

"And whose side were you even on last night, by the way?" Dick questions.

"You two morons almost fucking shot me!" You yell. "I was on your side. Hello? Do you not remember that and then you got the first swing on him. I was with you guys until you two almost shot me."

"That was Jason." Dick argues. "He pulled the trigger, not me."

"Because you grabbed his arm! It was aimed at you originally, not me." You let out a scoff.

"Enough." Kory warns, growing tired of the back and forth. The specifics of the fight last night don't matter right now when she's trying to fix a bullet wound that could have been fatal. She is so sick of losing people. "Barbara's responsible for this?" Kory asks.

"One of her snipers is, yeah." Dick answers.

"On her orders, I'm sure." Kory states. "Maybe I should go and have a word with her."

"I think there's been enough bloodshed for today." Gar adds in. "That was way too close, man." Gar's voice is soft but drenched in worry.

"I almost had him." Dick defends.

"No, I had him." You protest. "I had a knife ready to go. He never would have done it. I could have gotten him just fine but then you had to take the damn gun and I almost got shot." You pause for a second and if Dick would have just trusted you, maybe you really could have gotten him back. "We almost had him."

"Neither of you are listening!" Kory yells, looking between the two of you. "You scared us. Going out on your own, getting shot. It's not okay."

"I didn't want to put you guys at risk." Dick says. "She was here when I got the call. She's the only one that ever got through to Jason before. That's the only reason she went." Dick states calmly while Gar looks back at you as if waiting for you to explain why you didn't at least tell him.

"I'm not dragging you into it." You look to Gar as you shrug your shoulders.

"Oh, bullshit, guys." Gar spits and he's sick of this.

"Excuse me?" Dick questions.

"Dude, Hank blew up!" Gar yells. "Dawn left us forever, and Jason went dark. You're killing people!" Gar looks at you. "This family is dying and you two go out alone and Dick gets shot?" Gar yells before he starts growling lowly, his entire face turning green while his teeth turn into fangs. "Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouths!?"

"Gar?" You question slowly as your eyes grow wide. You've never seen him this upset before.

"Gar!" Kory yells, trying to snap him out of it.

"Hey." You stand in front of him, putting your hands on his cheeks. "Hello?"

His eyes land on yours, refocusing his attention and the fire in his bones starts to calm. The green fades from his face as his fangs start to retract. He's so upset and hurt and terrified for the lives of the people he cares about most, he didn't even realize he was starting to transform and Gar doesn't lose control.

"What?" Gar asks, his eyes scanning your face.

"Take ten." Kory states and she also feels like they're starting to lose everyone.

"Come on." You offer your hand to him as you turn around to walk away. Gar joins his hand with yours. "Don't do anything fucking insane without looping me in." You look over your shoulder at Dick, sending him a glare before you turn back around. "You were turning green." You whisper to Gar as you walk hand-in-hand across the Batcave.

"Because you guys could have died last night! I'm sick of losing this family!" His voice is panicked this time.

Gar might wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he is also very good at controlling his emotions. He never just loses control but he is today and it has you feeling even more guilty than you already were. Dick has Kory and Babs. You have Gar and Molly. Conner didn't really know Hank and he doesn't really know Jason. Gar, though, he knew Hank and was friends with Hank. Jason is his best friend and yet everyone has someone besides him. Everything has been a mess and Gar is the one left trying to fix everyone and help everyone but who helps him?

"Come on." You tug him along with you until you reach the living room. You let go of his hand and take a seat on the couch. "Yell at me for it. Go for it. You're scared and mad at us, fine. I get it. So, yell about it. I'm not gonna tell you to take ten. Turn green, turn into a tiger, go for it." You say with ease while Gar just stands in front of you, growing confused.

"What...? But I...I don't know..."

"Look, if you need to yell, do it. I deserve it and Dick does, too. You let me bitch to you for months. So, yell about how you're scared. I'm not gonna be hurt or mad. If it'll make you feel even a little bit better, do it. You take care of all of us, all the time. Take care of you." You offer and it's true. If he needs to yell about it, he should. You're not worried about him turning into a tiger. Gar deserves to let everything off of his chest. He always lets everyone else vent to him.

Gar's eyes narrow slightly. "This feels like a trick."

"It's not. I'd yell at Jason sometimes. He just kind of let me and then he'd yell at me. It was never that we were really yelling at each other, but just yelling. Because we were scared or mad. It usually helped. So, go for it." You shrug softly. "I do deserve it though so ya know."

Gar lets out a breath and decides he'll take the opportunity. He is just scared for all of you. Losing Donna was really hard. And losing Jason was worse. He was close with Json and that sucks. And now he's back and he's dark, working with a maniac. Hank is gone, there's no getting him back. Gar just can't lose more people and he's pissed that you and Dick don't seem to care how any of them feel about it. You're supposed to look out for each other to make sure you don't get blown up or beaten to death but Dick and you just go off on your own without a word.

"I'm just mad at you guys and I'm scared you're gonna go out there and get yourselves killed." Gar groans. "We had no idea where you guys went. You guys left and didn't loop us in. We're supposed to be a team and I know you're between teams but we're at least supposed to be friends! Jason is my friend, too! I want to be on his side. But you guys aren't telling us anything! I don't want to lose any more people."

You're tired of everything and you're tired of keeping secrets especially when Gar is looking at you desperate for answers. He says you're between teams right now but what if you don't want to be anymore? Jason is going to do whatever Crane is putting him up to and Dick is going to off and do his own thing anyway. Nothing you're doing has been working anyway. Maybe you're tired of being the one in the middle.

"The call about Crane came in and we left. I was with Dick and I don't think he would have looped me in if I wasn't already there. You're my friend. You're right. And that's why I didn't tell you." You state. "It's just...I wanted to protect you, I guess. I, uh, I've been dodging Molly's calls and texts, too because of it. I'm with you, I'm sick of losing people. So, I didn't tell you."

"Okay and I get that but this is what we do." Gar urges. "We help each other and we help other people even when it's dangerous. It's dangerous but you and Dick still go out there alone. At least if we're all working as a team, we have a better shot of making it home."

You chew the inside of your cheek and you think your heart might stop beating soon. "I fought him, ya know? And I know what that was like because even though I was high, I'm sober now and I remember every detail. And it fucking sucks that happened. I didn't want that to happen to you. I don't want him to have a bigger reason to target you." You shake your head and you shrug slowly and weakly. "He's not your fight, Gar."

"Yeah, he is." Gar urges. "Why wouldn't he be? He's my best friend."

"Because I owe it to him." You nearly yell. "I owe it to him to fucking save him because he saved me more than once and I never fucking told him. I missed it. I will never forgive myself for it. I have to save him this time."

"You don't have to do it alone." Gar's voice nearly breaks and he desperately wishes that's something you would understand. You never have to do this stuff alone. That's part of being a team and a family. "He's our friend. He's our family. We weren't here and that sucks! But he's not just yours to save. What if you can't do it alone?" Gar asks. "You're up against a freaky drug, Jason who I don't think you could really fight if you had to, and Scarecrow!"

"I know." You nod your head. "I don't know, okay? I know I can't do it alone. I'm sorry. I really am." You suck in a breath. And you're realizing you do a lot of things alone. It's as if it's easier to do them alone and only disappoint yourself, risk your own life than drag other people in the middle of it. "Really, I'm sorry. I was...scared if I tell you then you have to tell Dick and what if that got Jason killed, ya know? I don't know. I'm sorry though."

"You can tell me." Gar says. "I know you're worried about him but you can tell me and I won't tell Dick." Gar stresses. "Not if there's a risk it'll get Jason killed again."

"I know." You nod. "I'll try harder. I'm really sorry, Gar." You let out a breath. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna stay out of it today and take a breather. Might head to Excellent Gotham later, just so you know." You offer a soft smile.

"It's okay." Gar nods his head and offers a soft smile back. "You're going to be able to do that?"

"Yeah, I think better when I take a step back and I need to find a way to not be in the middle." You let out a soft chuckle. "While not doing it alone. But, if something happens..."

"I'll let you know." Gar's eyes widen. "Thank you." Gar clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "That did help a little actually."

"Told you." You laugh softly as you get to your feet. "Want some food now? Yelling really works up an appetite."

"Yeah okay." Gar chuckles as you get up. "Oh! I can tell you about Blackfire."

"Blackfire?" You quirk a brow.

"Kory's sister. She was kind of tapping into Kory's head and she attacked me yesterday so we went to find Blackfire. Some scientist was holding her captive." Gar states excitedly.

"Um..." You stutter. "Well, we already have so much in common." You laugh softly. "But yeah, no, please explain literally all of that." You say eagerly as the two of you make your way to the kitchen.

Jason and Crane are standing in the washing area of an operating room, watching as the surgeon and the nurses prep a kid for something. Jason isn't sure why Crane made him come here. He said he wanted to show Jason something. It's important he understands what's going on and Jason's part in all of this. If Jason were being honest, he thinks Crane is full of shit this time and he just wants to get out of here. This feels wrong.

Then it gets worse.

A woman comes in holding a sword and starts slicing up the surgeon and nurses. Jason's eyes grow wide as his breathing stops. Blood sprays over the walls and window right in front of Jason. A nurse backs against the window with her hands up and begs for her life only for the woman to slice her, too. This isn't right. Why would Crane do this? They're doctors. They're helping some kid live and Crane has this woman come in....and kill them. She takes something with her before looking at the window and offering Crane a nod. Jason questions if all of that bloodshed was for that one thing. She didn't have to kill them. But, she did.

"You are expendable. If you're not happy here, you are replaceable. Remember what I said." Crane says as he faces Jason and that's when Jason realizes this whole thing might be to help Crane, but the show was a threat.

Crane is withholding the drug from him today. Jason finished the inhaler and then Crane refused to give him more until they came here. He's withholding it on purpose, let Jason's fear kick in just enough to keep him in line and make him desperate. And it's working.

He's scared again.

He's scared he'll end up like the surgeons and nurses. He's scared Crane is the one who's going to turn on him. Red Hood is supposed to be the face of the whole plan. That was the point of creating that alter ego. Crane wants Jason to get rid of you and just do whatever he says, when he says it. He wants him to divert from the original plan while telling him nothing about what's actually going on. He can't do that. That is his line.

Crane can try all he wants but no amount of drugs or manipulation will get him to cross that line. He might believe Crane sometimes about you, maybe he has a point sometimes. But, he won't kill you. You could have killed him at any point but you don't. You could have pushed him off a roof but you didn't. When Jason gets desperate he thinks of that because you're the one that stood on that ledge with him despite your fear of heights. You're the one that talked him down that day no one else and he owes you something for that alone. He won't go after you. He doesn't fucking care what Crane has to say about it, he won't do it.

The more he thinks about it, the more mad he gets. Crane thinks he's expendable, just like Bruce. But he's not. Why does everyone think he's so fucking expendable and replaceable? Why is nothing he does enough? He turned on all of his friends for Crane. He killed Hank for Crane. That's not enough to prove he's not replaceable and expensable? It's infuriating. He'll prove Crane wrong. If Crane wants to get to you, he'll have to go through him first. If Crane wants to wait to distribute the drug, that's a Crane problem, not a Jsaon problem. And he knows exactly what he can do to prove Crane he's not expendable and he can be trusted.

Later that night, you find your way to Excellent Gotham. The other Titans have been busy trying to locate Crane and Jason. You kept yourself busy with a scrapbook page while they did their own thing. It's not really all that nice distancing yourself alone. You figure Excellent Gotham at least provides dinner and you can talk to Tim, someone who doesn't know everything that's going on and doesn't come with the feeling of guilt. If Tim wants to talk about who the Titans are and Batman and Robin, that's fine, too because it's what you always did. Before everything. It'll feel normal anyway. At least Excellent Gotham is a good distraction and lets you take the breather you need. If you're going to be any help, you need the step back. You're too close to it all.

So, you stand at the counter with Tim on the other side as a large smile consumes your face, a take-out counter resting open in front of you.

"Okay, okay, why Bruce Wayne? Like, okay if Dick were Robin, how does that make Bruce Batman?" You question as Tim leans against the counter.

There's a genuine smile splitting your face as you point at him with your fork before going in for another bite. You've been here a few hours, checking in with Gar every so often, a way to try and keep your word to him. And this is helping. You might be in a heated discussion about who everyone is but it feels normal. It doesn't feel heavy anymore. It's just a normal conversation with a friend and it doesn't feel fucking sad. It just feels warm.

You don't remember the last time you felt warm.

"He's rich." Tim scoffs, a grin plastered across his face. "And why else would he let Dick go out there?"

"Unless he doesn't know. Bruce is a busy man. Dick being Robin doesn't mean Bruce is Batman and that's if Dick is Robin." You argue with a laugh. "And that means you'd also be wrong about Jason."

"No, no, I know I'm right about Dick and Jason." Tim pauses, the smiling falling. "Is...is that okay to talk about? Jason?"

"Yeah." You nod with a soft smile. "I, uh, I like talking about him."

"Okay well," Tim picks right back with enthusiasm. You find it amusing how into this he is. Especially since he's right. "He has to be Robin. He has the same fighting style. He walks the same way, how do you explain that?" Tim raises. "And Robin 1.0 and Robin 2.0 share the same height difference as Jason and Dick." Tim states. "If they're the Robins, Bruce has to be Batman."

"Unless!" You yell with a laugh, flinging your fork around. "Dick recruited Jason because they're brothers! Like I said, Bruce is busy. What if Batman is just some guy? Like Kick-Ass. Doesn't have to be some rich guy and maybe he's recruiting kids." You argue and truly, you're only defending Bruce because you think it's funny. And Dick would kill you if you outed fucking Batman.

"Batman can be Batman because he's rich." Tim laughs. "Uh, where has Bruce Wayne been? Where has Batman been? They disappeared the same time!" Tim laughs.

"Bruce is on business! Maybe there's a Justice League thing!" Your laugh reverberates through the restaurant. This feels like home. "How the fuck would I know where Batman is?" You put your fork back in your food. "And that's still assuming Dick is Robin! He's not. Explain Dick having a stick up his ass. Robin is more free-spirited!"

"Sorry to interrupt this very important conversation." Mr. Drake states, walking back to the counter. "But Tim, where is Stephen? Get him on the damn phone and find out where he is. Or you're stuck here all night."

"Shit." Tim mutters, checking his phone to see Stephen's shift started an hour ago. "Okay, hold on." Tim says. "And we'll continue this." Tim laughs as he calls Stephen on FaceTime. "Where are you, man? Your shift started over an hour ago."

"Priorities. My girl's parents are out of town. I'll be there in a second." Stephen says through a grin.

"Seriously? I could have plans." Tim protests.

"What plans?" You snort. "You're here with me arguing about Batman."

"Whatever. Just hurry up." Tim says as he hangs up and three men walk into the restaurant.

Tim is about to start talking all over again with even more enthusiasm and proof but he gets a look at your face, eying the men as they walk further into the restaurant. Maybe you’re just paranoid but they look like they’re up to something. It’s that their walk is steady, determined, but careless. Their eyes don’t land on the menu or Tim or Mr. Drake. They’re pointed at the register. And that’s when you see the reflection of metal sticking out of the last guy’s waistband. He looks to you and then it starts.

The throbbing kicks in like a freight train. It’s an armed robbery and they plan to go out swinging. You’re quick, rushing to Tim as they pull out their guns. Gunfire surrounds and encompasses the restaurant as you tackle Tim to the floor behind one of the counters.

Tim leans against the counter, ducking his head with every echo of a gunshot. His eyes are on you as you take a breath, as if to be debating what you’re going to do. And Tim knows you knew this would happen. You were running to him before they had their guns pulled. And his thoughts are confirmed when you look back to him with fury in your eyes.

It’s been less than five seconds but it gives you enough time to gather yourself. It’s all you need. These people are not going to walk in here and murder the people you care about. They picked the wrong restaurant on the wrong night during one of the worst months of your life.

You lift your hoodie, pulling a knife from the belt around your waist before you pop up from behind the counter.

“Ya fucking missed, assholes!” You yell over at them as the knife leaves your fingers, connecting with one of the guys’ eyes, embedding itself deep into his skull as he drops to the ground.

The throbbing starts again from the side and you duck down just before a shot comes your way. You take another deep breath before grabbing another two knives and throwing one, hitting one of their jugulars. The last one still standing locks eyes with you, his gun pointed right at you. He has this…grin, one you almost swear you’ve seen before but you’ve never seen him before this. His breathing is steady and he actually looks relaxed while you have your arm ready and aimed with a knife, right at him.

His pupils are blown.

And then your heart sinks because Crane is free on the streets and these guys came in here completely fearless. This one finds the whole damn thing amusing. Maybe he’s just high on something else, or maybe you’re right and Jason and Crane have moved to disruption. Excellent Gotham wouldn’t just be a coincidence.

“Give me the money and it’ll be over.” He says so easily you nearly roll your eyes.

“Kiss my ass.” You throw the knife, hitting this one in the arm with the gun.

Then you throw another one, hitting him just below the eye. He drops to the ground in a hard thump, leaving the restaurant a glass and gun-shelled mess. The smell of gun metal seeps into the air while an eery and dense silence consumes the place.

Tim calls your name not ten seconds after the last man drops. There’s panic in his voice, a sense of dread. You rush right over to him where he’s against the food counter now, his dad leaning against the side of it. Blood seeps through Tim’s hands are he tries to hold pressure on the wound. You kneel down, seeing Mr. Drake breathing heavily. Your eyes scan over him, quickly running over the crash course Jason gave you in gunshot wounds once.

“He’s been shot!” Tim yells, desperation in his eyes as he looks to you, silently pleading for help. He knows you're Bluejay. He can only assume you've had some sort of training in this. More than he's had.

You can feel the lump in your throat grow and the spinning of your head. Blood never really bothered you and it didn't with Dick. But, it was mostly dry with him earlier and this, right now, is fresh and active. Your bones feel like they're going to vibrate through your skin and your teeth grind together, trying to push every thought out of your mind that isn't first aid. 

You have to help.

“Okay, move.” You urge as Tim pulls his hands away. Your hands are shakey as you lift Mr. Drake’s shirt, seeing the wound oozing and you think you might prefer knife wounds instead of gaping holes. “It’s gonna take the ambulance ten to fifteen to get here,” You rush out. “So, we–”

“Is that…?” Tim asks, cutting you off as his eyes are on the window. He only even looked up to see if he saw someone for help or Stephen but instead of help, he just saw one person.

Jason Todd.

You look up just in time to catch a glimpse of him before he turns around. This cannot really be happening right now. Jason Todd is supposed to be dead. It was all over Gotham City News. Bruce's newest adoptive son was killed in a freak accident. This is going to be a lot harder to explain to Tim and you want to explode. If he's here, you're right.

Why the fuck would he be here and why the fuck would he target the place you frequent?

“Okay, keep pressure.” You look to the door, seeing Stephen rush in. “Stephen, call an ambulance and grab some towels!” You yell as you get to your feet. “Stay here, hold pressure with the towels. I’ll be right back.” Your words nearly slur together as they come out as fast as your mouth will let them.

You rush outside where you see Jason, his back facing the open windows of the restaurant. You can’t believe this. Of all the things he could do, of all the damn people in Gotham he could target, he really came for you. For your friend and his family. You can’t fucking do it anymore. This is insane. If he wants to go after Dick, fine. Sibling rivalry bullshit taken to an extreme. But this? This is targeting innocent fucking people.

“Jason!” You seethe as you approach him. “What. The. Fuck!?” You scream, nearly vibrating from the anger coursing through your veins.

But then Jason faces you.

The anger washes away as your mouth opens, looking for words. There are dark circles under his eyes, a hollowed expression of the charism that used to radiate off of him. Maybe it’s the dark lighting but you swear the green in his eyes is pale, his skin is pale. He looks like a shell of who he used to be. He’s been acting like it but now…he really looks the part and you’re getting the idea that something really bad is happening.

Jason’s eyes are wide, tired, and exhausted but wide as he sees you come to a dead stop a few feet away from him. Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be here. You should be with Dick and the other Titans. He didn’t see you inside of the restaurant. Not before the gunfire or after. How did he miss you? It can’t be you. He just wanted to show Crane he was right. He wanted to prove he could do this. He chose Excellent Gotham on purpose, a way to show Crane it’s a threat at you without being a real threat. He knows you went to Tim for help. You weren’t supposed to be here.

Jason questions your name, closing the rest of the distance between the two of you.

His hands immediately come to your face for just a second and they send a chill down your spine. His fingers are like icicles and they're clammy, completely different than how they usually are and it breaks your heart. He keeps his right hand on your cheek, while the other hand goes to your waist. His eyes scan you over quickly, desperate to make sure you weren’t hurt in the gunfire. He didn’t take the drug again yet, he was saving it for after. He’s scared. Panicked. Desperate and guilty. You have blood on your hands and on your clothes. Can’t be yours. Not you. 

Please not you.

“Are you hurt?” Jason rushes but his voice is weak and fragile, echoed in pain.

You eye him and you’re stuck between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss him in hopes to make it all better again. He’s slipping so far away from you and you’re scared how far he’s willing to fall. Crane is doing something to him. He has to because he didn’t look like this last night. He didn’t even seem like he cared this much last night. Right at this exact moment, he feels like the old Jason. And you nearly get sucked right back into his gravitational pull.

“What…” The venom is gone from your voice. “What is he doing to you?” You ask, your hand comes to to his face. Not him. Not again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jason’s voice breaks.

“You know I’m always here. I was hanging out with Tim. Jason…what the hell is he giving you?” You look him over and you notice him favoring his leg. You haven’t seen him much since he’s been back from the dead but this is the first time since that first day you’re noticing it. You always notice it.

“Are you hurt?” Jason asks again and he can feel his heartbeat in his throat. He wants to spit his own heart right onto the ground in hopes it’ll stop the pain in his chest.

“No. I’m fine. It’s not mine.” You urge, catching him glancing at your free hand. “Jason, what is Crane giving you?”

Jason shakes his head, dropping his other hand to your waist. He misses you. He’s been so damn high all the time, he’s been able to ignore the longing in his chest. The one who always swore was his heart searching for yours. He could ignore it with ease but Crane has been keeping the drug close to his chest and this batch isn’t very good. He can feel it more tonight. It’s wearing off quicker. He can feel the worry for you and the care and the fact he fucking misses you. And the guilt for everything that’s led you both here.

“Same shit.” Jason grits his teeth. “You took it, you know.” He hates the words leaving his lips because they sound bitter and angry but it’s not at you. He just wants you to be okay and he wants to get the fuck out of here.

“No.” You shake your head, your voice soft. “Are you sure it’s the same drug? Jason, you look…is he withholding it from you?” His skin is cold and clammy under your fingers and his hair is flatter than usual.

You’ve seen it, what withdrawal looks like. You saw it on the streets and that’s what Jason looks like. Why would Crane do that? He’s insane and he doesn’t actually give a shit about Jason but Jason has been doing all of his bidding. You figure Jason is here with the drug. That’s why he just stood here while Excellent Gotham was attacked, he probably gave it to them. Surely, that has to be part of the plan. But, if that’s the case, then why does Jason look like he’s been thrown headfirst into withdrawal? And why would Crane be doing this?

“Stay the fuck out of it. I have it. It’s the same shit. It’s fine.” Jason grits his teeth. He wants to break. He wants to lose it for the first time since that first day on the roof with you. It feels like it’s been months since and it’s only been a week. And you look at him with worry and fear and you have always had a way with getting Jason to breathe. But, he can’t afford that right now. Not you. “Please.”

"It's fine?" You spit. "You look terrible, Jason. It's not fucking fine."

"Yeah, it is." Jason removes his hand from your waist and digs in his coat pocket, pulling out a full inhaler. "Fine." He wiggles the inhaler for you to see, the liquid sloshing around in the clear canister.

After all of that, he's going to wave the drug around as if it's fucking easy. He's going to stand here and pretend like it's all fine and well when he almost got you and Tim shot? He's actually lost his damn mind now. If he's going to stick with Crane despite everything, fine. You've stuck by his side since day one all those months ago. Fine. If it's going to be like that, fine because you can't take it anymore. You love him more than anything on this planet but this is not fucking fine. He's not fine and he has got to realize that. 

"Fine!?" You shake your head, eyes bugging out of your head in disbelief. "Get off me." You shove his hand off of you as you take a step back. It's not fine. None of this is fucking fine. He's not fine. That drug isn't fine. Working with Crane isn't fine. Doing what he just did isn't fucking fine. It doesn't matter what his reason is. "You...you just got Tim's dad shot. Do you know that? What have the Drakes ever done to you?" You look at him with disgust. "You could have gotten Tim shot, my friend. You could have gotten me shot!" Your voice cracks as you yell at him, your arm flying out to the side. You might be worried about him but you're not going to let him almost kill your friends because you're worried about him.

"That wasn't the plan!" Jason screams in desperation, his words clawing at the hope for you to believe him. "You went to Tim, didn't you!? I know you suck at figuring out codes! Tim is a genius. I just wanted to scare him!" Jason defends his stance, leaving out Crane wanting Jason to target you. If you knew this was a fake threat, maybe that'd be worse.

"Bullshit! Bull-fucking-shit! You gave them the drug! That's why you're here! You did this! You knew what would happen and you did it anyway!" You bark back. "You just wanted to scare him!? Then do it your damn fucking self, Jason! You just didn't want the blood on your damn hands so I couldn't blame you! But you did this!" You point a finger at him and Jason isn't sure he's seen you so mad and...disappointed.

"You weren't supposed to be here! I didn't think they'd shoot anyone!"

That's not a lie. He didn't think. He just did it. He knew they'd go in there and rob them. Maybe they'd have to close down for a little bit. For safety. He didn't think about anything else. Thanks to the drug Jason claims is helping him and curing him.

You don't fucking get it. It doesn't matter that you weren't supposed to be here. That's a load of shit anyway. You're always here. Tim and his family are innocent, regardless on if Tim helped you or not. He doesn't know anything, not for sure. Jason's reasoning is flawed and it's cruel. It fucking hurts.

"Tim is my fucking friend! I don't care I wasn't supposed to be here! You....fuck." You let out a desperate groan, tilting your head back. At some point, enough is enough and he isn't even taking responsibility for this. You just can't do this anymore. You look back to him, eyes turning glassy. "I was fucking fine with you being a crime lord or whatever, taking out those fucks hurting people. But this?" You point at the restaurant. "These are innocent people! Hank was innocent! Dick is innocent! I can't fucking stand here and watch you kill innocent fucking people! And innocent fucking people that I care about and that care about me!" You say it all so quickly, you barely register what it would mean.

No no no no no. He fucked it all up. Like he always does. He just ruined it all. Everything is gone. Everything is going to shit. It's all messed up. He did all of this. How did he even get here? You can't walk away from him. You always swore you wouldn't. Please, not you, too.

You're all he has left.

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Jason asks, jerking his up quickly as he tries to give the question some bite.

You let out a heartbroken laugh that's mixed with a cry as you look to the sky and hope a blackhole will open up just to swallow you whole. You have no choice.

You have thrown him life preserver after life preserver, and all he ever had to do was hold on and you'd reel him back to safety. But, all Jason has done is chew right through them and wonder why he's still drowning. You can't keep trying to save someone who doesn't want to be saved. He was always your lifeline but you were clearly, never his.

"You win, Jason." Your voice is defeated as Jason's brows furrow. The lump in your throat grows so large you can barely get the words out. "You win. I can't do it anymore. I'm done. I can't." You shake your head as a tear falls down your cheek. The words taste like blood-covered glass, killing you with every cut and slice.

If you're always on his side, then what he's doing can't be that bad. If you're always on his side, defending him, why would he ever stop? You've tried everything else to get him home and none of it is enough. And it is killing you, knowing this is it. There is one last option because something's gotta give. Maybe if he hits rock bottom, having no one, maybe it'll turn him around. It's the only thing left to do because begging him doesn't work, loving him doesn't work, fighting him doesn't work, arguing doesn't work. Nothing else works and you hate it because you don't mean it, not even a little bit but you have no other options and you're devasted by what he is right now.

So, you say the one thing you can't take back.

A last-ditch effort, knowing he may never forgive you.

"I'm giving up on you. You get what you always wanted. I can't do it. I have tried and tried, but I can't do it anymore." You give him a tired shrug as you dodge his eyes.

If you see the heartbreak in his eyes, you'll take it back and you can't do that. If Jason always has you on his side, why would he turn things around when he hasn't yet? You could have died two nights in a row. He is actively targeting the Titans. You can't meet his eyes because he is targeting innocent people. It might be under Crane's control but, until he gets clear of him and gets clean, this has to be on Jason. Jason has to be the one to deal with the consequences and you will never forgive yourself for it.

Jason's world stops. Not you. Not another person. Why does he always do this? How did he even get here? You were never supposed to be involved. He should have included you from the start. He almost rips the inhaler from his pocket and hits it, right in front of you, anything to get rid of this pain in his chest. It's as if his heart just exploded through his cage, shattering every bone on its way out. How are you doing this?

You're all he has left.

Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears of agony and anger. "You're just like everyone else." Jason's voice cracks.

You knew it was coming but something about it makes you want to burst into tears.

"No." You shrug because he should know how badly this hurts you, too. This is the last thing you want to say to him, ever. "I'm not. I am not like everyone else. Don't ever say that shit again. You have done this. You came after my friend. My innocent friend, Jay." Your voice cracks as you try desperately to hold back your sobs. "All you have done since coming back from the dead, is hurt me." You pause, taking a ragged breath and Jason's face falls. Is that true? "And I have done everything to protect you. To be by your side. And you have done nothing but hurt me. So, no. I am not like everyone else. You just gave me no choice, Jay." You're quick to wipe a few tears away as your voice is weak and soft, lacking all fire and bite it had just seconds earlier.

He can't do it. He could try to make up for this. He could try to explain. He could just quit. That would do the job just fine. But, he doesn't. The heartbreak kicks in with anger and he just wants to be spiteful just like he always is as if fighting the person is going to change their mind. He knows it won't change yours but he does it anyway because he's hurt and the hurt has nowhere to go besides the open and cold air of this soulless city.

"You swore you never would but look at you now!" A lump grows in Jason's throat. "You said you don't break promises. Crane was right about you." Jason sneers as he closes the distance between you, looking down at you but he's not threatening or intimidating. You see the heartbreak in his eyes. You will feel guilty about this in every life you live.

Jason Todd has always deserved better.

"Okay." You shake your head slowly. "Sure, Crane doesn't know me. But you do. You know me. And you know I'd never be giving up if you left me another option. But, sure, believe Crane. Fuck it, right?" You scoff and all you want to do is cry. Or break every bone in your body because maybe that would be less painful. "I'm sick of losing my family." Your voice is quiet, barely a whisper. "All I ever wanted was you. And you died." You shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes on him. "And all I wanted was you." You say quietly and Jason wants to shatter, his breath catching in his throat as his vision starts to go blurry. "And still, all I want is you but...I don't know what else to do."

You can see your breaths mixing together in the winter air between you. Everything led you both here and all you both want to do is take it back. The winter air chisels at your face and hands, hacking away at every hope you could have had. Jason's eyes are locked on yours, dissolving into heartbreak and you think this is what hypothermia must feel like.

But, Jason is too scared of what will happen if he does take it all back. He's still under Crane's manipulation. He's too stubborn. And you're terrified what will happen if you back down. If you back out of it, who will he target next?

"So, that's just it? I didn't mean to hurt anyone in there. It's not my fault." Jason huffs and the anger starts to evaporate as the heartbreak comes in the form of agony and devastation.

"Sure." You nod and you don't want him to feel like he's trapped with Crane. You have to give up because that's your option. But, you can offer him someone else and maybe that'll be enough. This all boils to Dick anyway. "The same way your drug isn't Crane's fault. Look, I'm done. I can't do it. Dick though, he believes in you still. So, if you want to come home, call him. Don't contact me. If you get clean, then you can. Until then, don't call me. Don't text me. Nothing. And stay the fuck away from the Drakes, Molly, and Gar." You try to hide the quiver in your voice but Jason catches it.

"Please, don't walk away." Jason says softly and you nearly collapse into the ground. His words are like knives aiming right for your heart. How does he do that?

You rest a hand on his cheek. "I can't leave it like that so, I'll always love you, Jay but...I want the old you back." You nod as your hand falls from his cheek. You turn around, going to leave him but you hear Jason take a few slow steps after you before they stop.

Jason's voice cracks as he says your name, his version becoming so blurry he can't see. "I...I'm sorry." Jason says quietly, looking to the ground as a tear falls from his eyes. "Don't...please," He looks back up to you. "Don't give up on me. I have a plan and it's all gonna work out. This was just an accident."

You swear he's never going to forgive you for this. This is the hardest thing you've ever done. Even if he understands one day, he'll never forgive you and it's the hardest pill to swallow.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was." You nod softly. "I can't save you. You don't want to be saved, not yet. You have to save yourself, now, Jay. And for what it's worth, I..." You pause watching tears come to Jason's eyes. "I love you, Jay." You nod your head as you sniffle. "And I am so fucking sorry I couldn't save you. From Deathstroke, from the Titans, from the Joker...from Bruce. And from Crane. I'm sorry I was another person that let you down and I'm really fucking sorry I'm walking away." You shake your head as you lick your lips. "But I don't think you'll get it through your head if I'm in your corner. I've tried everything to stay." You suck in a breath as a few tears fall from your eyes. "I tried to stay for once because being with you was worth it to me. But I don't think it's helping you so...get clean and we can talk. The second you get clean, I'll be here." You nod once as the ambulance finally starts to arrive. "Those are for us. You should leave." You turn back around and head back inside of the building, leaving Jason in the cold.

How could he fuck up this bad? He just wanted to show Crane he was right. He just wanted to prove himself and instead, he's the one standing out here all alone. Guilt and shame gnawing at the last good parts of him. And he just can't do it anymore. The pain and the fear and guilt and everything about it. It's too much and too heavy and maybe he's a little spiteful. So, he puts the inhaler to his lips and takes a hit.

They said it was a skinny batch but he didn't realize it would feel like this. It's numbing a lot of everything but not enough and it all still feels too heavy. When things get heavy, he always went to you but he just fucked that up. It's his fault it's heavy. This is all his fault and you're supposed to be on his side but you're not. He's all alone again and all he has is Crane. It's not supposed to be like this. How the fuck did he even get here?

All he wanted was to be somebody to someone. To be enough.

Back in the restaurant, the paramedics are getting Mr. Drake into the ambulance, rushing him off to Gotham General. Tim watches with sad and hollowed eyes, his hands are covered in blood and his shirt is soaked. You squeeze your eyes shut, looking away before you shake it off. You can't lose it over Tim's dad. That's not fair.

"Do...do you need a ride?" You clear your throat as the ambulance drives away. "I have my bike. I can take you." You offer with a steady and firm nod.

"Uh...yeah," Tim looks at his hands, something lost in his voice. "That...that would be great. Thanks."

"Of course." You nod, reaching down for this hand. Your hands have been covered in blood enough times to almost seem normal. "Come on."

The two of you head outside to your bike and you wonder how you're supposed to explain this. Dick talked to you months ago, when you first came to the tower. It was all about vigilante life and what it entailed. It would be making hard decisions but knowing those hard decisions would be for the greater good. It's not killing people because enough people hurt and kill innocent people enough. Vigilantes, heroes, don't do that. It was about keeping the identities of everyone a secret to protect yourself and them. You've never had much of an issue keeping secrets.

You hold your own close to your chest, lock them away where even you forget they exist sometimes. But, those secrets aren't these. Those secrets only ever hurt you, only ever made you feel alone. These secrets that you're forced to keep hurt everyone you care about. They hurt Molly because you couldn't tell her about Bluejay or Robin or Jason or Red Hood. You and Jason would bail on her and you'd both would show up riddled with bruises and aches and pains. It hurt her because it worried her. It hurt her because Jason died and she never got to know him as Robin, the part of him that meant the world to him. She only got to know a portion of him.

But telling Molly meant telling her about Dick and Bruce and the other Titans. It wasn't your secret to tell because it would out all of them. And she still doesn't know he's alive because telling her means leaking something Jason wanted to keep a secret and that's going to hurt her even more.

This hurts Tim because his dad was just shot and he just saw Jason Todd who's supposed to be dead. Now, he's going to think his friend is lying to him about your boyfriend being dead. Lying about an alter ego is one thing, lying about someone dying is cruel. Even if you weren't close.

And it hurts Gar because Gar ends up in the crossfire of everything. He's the one up worrying when you and Dick don't come home. He's the one scared for what Jason is going to do because you couldn't tell him about the drug in order to protect Jason and keep his secrets for him. And then there's Jason.

You can't tell Jason what's going on with the Titans because of Crane. You can't tell him everything you want to desperately scream from the rooftops. That you're sorry and you don't mean it and it hurts you, too. You can't tell him you're scared Crane is going to snap and kill him. It'll drive the wedge further between you. All of these secrets are piling on top of each other, slowly building to the tallest building in Gotham and it's only a matter of time before the whole thing collapses. All it does is hurt everyone you care about. That doesn't seem very heroic.

"Here, take my helmet." You offer the helmet to him once you reach your bike.

"Uh, no it's okay." Tim shakes his head. You're driving.

"Put the helmet on." You say sternly as you mount your bike, sending a glare to Tim.

Something about the look you give him makes Tim grab the helmet. "Right, okay." Tim nods and puts the helmet on before he gets on the back.

"Hold on." You state before Tim holds onto your waist.

You drive to Gotham General, pulling up to one of the entrances without blocking the ambulance entrance. Tim gets off and takes off the helmet, handing it back to you. He knows you know something. And if he's being honest, he's annoyed you didn't tell him. You aren't that close but...his dad just got shot and Jason fucking Todd knew about it. It was a hit. He stood outside and did nothing. Why wouldn't his own girlfriend know he's alive and planning a hit? You have acid generation and combat clairvoyance while also being an excellent marksman. Tim swears it can't be some coincidence you were there tonight.

"I'm really sorry about your dad." You state softly, holding the helmet on your thigh.

"Thanks." Tim looks back at the hospital. "That was Jason Todd outside, wasn't it?"

You nod softly and you know you can't deny that. Tim saw him "Yeah."

"I thought he was dead." Tim questions as his voice holds hints of venom, something you haven't heard before.

"Yeah." You nod again and you hate yourself for tonight. For everything. "Don't, uh, don't tell anyone. It's a long story." You hang your head, dodging the look Tim is surely giving you.

"You knew?" Tim scoffs, looking at you with annoyance and disappointment. Why the hell would you let everyone believe he were dead? "He faked his death or?"

You look back to him and all this sucks. You're sick of lying and hiding secrets. It's tiring and lonely. It's so fucking lonely.

"No." You shake your head. "He, uh...he really, uh...he really died." You suck in a shakey breath before you shake your head quickly. "I-I can't tell you anything else." You let out a bitter scoff. "That's shit and I know that. I'm sorry."

"Did he target us because of you? Because of the Titans?" All Tim wants is some clarity. There had to be reason. Tim helped you with a code. That's what it was.

"Not a Titan." You sigh with exhaustion, lacking any and all fight you'd normally have with the statement. "I don't know why." You lie but you're sick of this. Keeping these secrets is making you out to be the bad guy with everyone and you're not. You're just trying to protect everyone you care about so, you're not going to tell him in so many words but you're not going to cover it up either. "Um...yeah...maybe it was because of me but uh...I, uh, I never...I never thought he'd figure it out or....or come after you. I should have left you out of it."

Tim nods bitterly and he wants to understand but his dad could have been killed. "That code, it wasn't a murder mystery thing, was it?" Tim asks and you just suck in a breath, not offering him anything else. Technically, you aren't lying and technically you aren't telling him anything. He already knows. You don't need to so he nods. "I saw what you did. You knew they were going to start shooting. I was right."

You shake your head, looking to the sky and it's gloomy as always but it looks like it might snow. You scoff looking back to Tim. "I saw the guns."

"Bullshit, you know," Tim gestures a hand to you. "You're supposed to be a hero, like Batman and Robin but..." Tim shakes his head.

"Fuck Batman." You mutter as your jaw clenches.

"You're supposed to help people." Tim says sternly.

The lump in your throat grows and you bite your cheek so hard the taste of iron floods your mouth. It's not supposed to be this hard. And why does helping people have to be so black and white? Good and bad? It's not. Whether anyone likes it or not, the guys you want to target and take out permanently and the guys Jason was going after, that was helping. Making sure they can't hurt anyone else ever again. That's helping. Dick thinks he can help all of the Titans and he fucks up sometimes which gets people hurt, but he still helps. Sometimes people get hurt and that sucks but does that really make everyone else irrelevant? Does that really make everything else wrong? Or the motive and reasoning?

Helping people shouldn't be black and white, good and bad, morally good and morally evil. There needs to be a grey area because you have people like the Joker who needed to be killed for the greater good of everyone in Gotham. And you have people like Jason who isn't in his right mind and is being manipulated but should still be helped. It sucks Tim's dad got shot and you will regret going to Tim for help forever, but you're helping him by not telling him anything, even if you want to and even if he doesn't see it that way.

"I am literally begging you to please go inside and leave this alone, Tim." You force the words through gritted teeth. "I can't fucking tell you anything else, okay? I want to. If it were up to me, I'd fucking tell you what's going on but I can't. It's not my shit to say." You look to the ground and then back up to Tim, rolling your shoulders softly. "So, I'm sorry." You shake your head, giving up and cluing him enough. Technically, you're not admitting to anything, just admitting that you know what's going on.

"You just confirmed it." Tim says softly. "I'm gonna figure out what's going on and--"

"Tim! Please, go be with your dad. Trust me." You practically beg him because if he digs into this, what's going to stop Jason from actually going after him? Tonight might have been a threat or whatever, but at this point, you don't know if he would actually go after someone like Tim. You need him to just take what you're saying and understand it.

"That's my dad."

"I know and I know it sucks. I get it which is why I'm telling you to go be with him." You say softly as your voice cracks.

Tim nods softly, understanding why you're saying it. "Thanks for the ride."

"Just...text me about your dad, okay?" You ask. "I'm really fucking sorry."

"I will." Tim nods because he's beginning to think maybe this isn't on you. He might know who you are but you aren't as cut and dry as Batman and Robin always were. You're more morally grey and maybe it is more complicated because it involves Jason. You look terrified. "Thanks for saving me."

You nod quickly. "Of course." You say softly. "Good luck." You suck in a breath, popping the helmet on and taking off.

prev. chapter

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A/n: I still promise reader and Jason get a happy ending lmao This just had to happen lol but I do make up for it a little bit next chapter (pretty sure it's next chapter)

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @urmomsgayforme5

Private Encounters

Pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x reader

Summary: you were tired of Cardan constantly attacking you and your friends. one day, though, Cardan asks to speak with you privately, and no good things could come from the prince of elfhame wanting to speak with you with no one else around

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

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"Hurry up, you guys! We're gonna be late again!" Taryn whisper-shouted as you and Jude trailed behind her towards the courtyard.

Usually, you two went alone on your adventures, but Taryn decided she wanted to be spontaneous, too, and wanted to join along. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to have that much fun, and urged you back to class almost as soon as you got there.

"Who cares if we're late?" Jude rolled her eyes. "It's not like anyone would really care."

"Just because they don't like us, doesn't mean I want to draw their attention. Who knows what they'll do." Taryn shifted the picnic basket of food between her hands, nervously. She was always the most cautious of you three; always fearing what they would say or do to you guys.

You scoffed, "Taryn, let's be real. Even if we were there on time and minded our own business, Cardan and his little fanclub would still find some reason to bother us."

Jude chuckled, "he's so insufferable. What I wouldn't do to wipe that idiotic grin off his face."

You laughed, "I'm right there with you. It's like his greatest pleasure is being annoying."

"I don't know." Taryn slows her speed walk to match pace with Jude and I. "I feel like Cardan mostly has it out for you, now, (Y/N)."

You rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah," Jude agreed. "Ever since we became friends, he's like diverted the hatred for us onto you."

You laughed, "Wow, thanks guys. Who knew being your friend would make a prince despise me."

Jude laughed too. "I don't think it was all our fault. You're human, so he would have hated you anyway."

"That's so reassuring, thanks for that."

Jude smirked, "anytime."

When we finally emerged onto the courtyard where class was taking place, most everyone ignored you, save for the professor.

"Ah," he said, "nice of you three to join us. Please find a seat so we can continue on with our lessons of astronomy."

Taryn bowed her head to keep from looking at anyone. You noticed Jude did not bow her head, but she would not look at the other students.

You, however, must be an idiot to not follow along with them, because your gaze falls straight to Cardan, who is staring back at you with much ferocity.

As the even bigger idiot you are, you do not avert your gaze, but simply glare back at him. To that, and small, devilish grin grows on his face. It almost seems like an invite of this little game you play. He hates you and your friends, goes out of his way to torment you three, and for that, you refuse to back down. Sometimes, you think he likes that you fight him so much.

"(Y/N)," Taryn calls, quietly as to avoid too much attention. She waves you over. Only then do you realize you've been staring at Cardan so long that Jude and Taryn have already set up the blanket and started spreading out the food.

Your cheeks heat as you walk the few feet to where they are sitting. You can hear Cardan snicker as you walk past him and Nicasia.

"What were you thinking!" Taryn scolds as you finally sit down on the blanket. Your professor continues with his lecture, but you don't even bother to pay attention to him.

You shrug, "I'm not really sure. I just can't stand him so much it makes me crazy."

Jude laughs at that. "I'm so glad we're friends, (Y/N). I think I'd go crazy if I didn't have someone else to share my hatred for Cardan with."

You giggle, "well it's a good thing I'm here, then, huh?"

"I don't think anyone is happy you're here."

Looking up from where you're sitting, you see Nicasia and Cardan looming down over you. Seems like the lesson is over as everyone else has abandoned the courtyard.

"Oh, Nicasia, always a pleasure." You rolled your eyes as you stood up. Behind you, you hear the shuffling of Jude standing and pulling Taryn up with here. "To what do we owe you coming over here and bothering us for?"

She smirked, "I have no reason for being near you filthy mortals other than to make sure you stay in your place. You don't belong here. You're frail, and worthless, and someone needs to remind you of that."

You mocked her with a laugh, "is that really all you've got?"

Taryn let out a quiet gasp.

Nicasia narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?"

You shrugged. "All I'm saying is you give the same excuse every time you come over here. 'I'm putting you in your place', 'make sure you know what a worthless mortal you are'. Blah, blah, blah. It's very redundant, Nicasia, and quite truthfully, it's just tiresome." You said condescendingly.

The fire is her eyes was hot. Her fists balled at her side as she glared at you.

Now, it's not like you were looking for trouble, or that you wanted anything bad to happen to you or your friends. You just could not stand the way she and Cardan always came over to you and caused problems.

The slap was expected. Your cheek burned as Nicasia's hand left your face. Taryn couldn't hold back the very audible gasp that left her lips. Looking back to your friends, Taryn looked utterly frightened, and Jude looked angrier than you'd ever seen her.

Right as Nicasia was about to slap you again, Cardan interrupted her.

"Nicasia," Cardan warned as he lifted his hand, "that is quite enough."

You scoffed. "Oh, and since when are you ever the peace maker?"

Cardan smirked, "Since Nicasia decided she was going to slap you. I quite like your face the way it is."

All heads turned to Cardan as he said that. Nicasia looked hurt, Taryn looked almost as confused as you felt, and Jude just looked disgusted.

You narrowed my eyes at Cardan, despite your confusion. "What games are you playing at, Greenbriar?"

His eyebrows shot up in delightful surprise. A cheeky smirk playing on his lips. "I have no games, (Y/L/N)." He spat out your last name like it disgusted but also intrigued him.

He looked between Nicasia, Jude and Taryn. "You, leave us. I have a few words for (Y/N)."

Jude and Taryn looked at each other, confused and contemplating if they should leave or not. You stood your ground though.

"I'll be fine, guys. I'll just meet you back at Madoc's, okay?" You tried to reassure them, though you weren't exactly sure what you were getting yourself into. All you knew was that you didn't want Cardan to know he frightened you.

Jude nodded her head. "We won't be far. And Cardan," she turned to him, "if you so much as touch one hair on her head, I will-"

"Oh relax, would you, Jude? Always resolving your issues with murder." Cardan rolled his eyes. "Leave us. Now."

Jude glared at Cardan before turning to you and giving you a reassuring look. Just as quickly, she turned away and pulled Taryn off with her.

"And you," Cardan said as he turned to Nicasia. "I believe I ordered you away, as well."

Nicasia looked shocked. "Me? Why would I need to be sent away? Whatever punishment you have for the way she spoke to me, I want-"

"Leave, Nicasia. I won't ask you again."

Stunned, Nicasia's mouth hung open just slightly as she looked between you and Cardan. With a 'hmph', Nicasia turned on her heel and strutted away, leaving behind just Cardan and you.

The two of you stood there in silence. You gazed up at him, trying to decipher why he could possibly want to speak with you alone. Maybe he wants to kill you. Maybe he's grown tired of this cat and mouse game you have going on.

"What do you want, Cardan?"

He smirked, and took a daring step closer to you. "I just wanted to talk with you. You're... interesting. I find you intriguing to say the least."

You raised my brow in confusion. "You find me intriguing? Now I know you're toying with me. What do you really want, Cardan?"

He scoffed. "Is it that hard for you to admit that I might find you interesting?"

"How interesting could I possibly be? I'm mortal, remember? Can't believe you would forget, not after you and your friends made it your entire personalities to constantly remind me of my mortality and how worthless you believe me to be."

Cardan's smirk only grew. "You are quite right. You're mortal. Mortals by nature are fragile, slow, susceptible to our tricks, and yet you seem to be quite the opposite."

Your eyebrows shot up, completely shocked by this sort-of compliment you just received from the Prince of Elfhame.

Cardan continued before you could even get a word out. "I dislike mortals quite a bit. I think they are weak. They have little skill that is worth anything, and they are often succumbed to the nature of our people. You, however, are quite different, (Y/N)."

He took a tender step closer to you. Your breath was caught in your throat. Cardan had never shown any type of interest in you. You thought he'd never actually shown anything other than disgust towards you, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe all of those teasing smirks and cruel comments were him testing you, trying to figure out just how far he could push you.

"You've stood up to me. You've been given every chance to back down. I've seen how far you are willing to go to defend yourself and those little friends of yours. I find it admirable in a way."

You force out a laugh. "You find it admirable? Everything you consider so 'strong' and 'admirable' about me is what I've had to do to survive this place. You've done nothing but make living here just that much harder than it already is for mortals."

You strode closer to Cardan, persistence on your face. His eyes widened slightly, but the daring smirk never faltered from his lips.

Just as you two were chest to chest, you spoke, "answer now, Cardan, what is it you really wanted to tell me?"

"I've already told you, (Y/N). I think you're admirable. I think you're intriguing. I think there is something about you that keeps drawing me in. Something so pulling, it's frustrating how much I think of you."

No words left your mouth. How could they when your jaw laid open the way it was.

Cardan chuckled. "Now, another reason I wanted you here. I must ask: I know you mortals can lie, something we folk can not do, but how are you so good at pretending?"

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Pretending?"

Cardan's smirk only grew, "pretending you aren't in love with me, that is."

The world had stopped. It felt like your entire world had shattered. This was quite possibly the last thing you thought Cardan would get you alone for.

Anyone with eyes could see that Cardan Greenbriar was gorgeous. All of his kind were gorgeous, but he had exceptional beauty. Beside that, you couldn't find one characteristic about him that you had liked. Sure, maybe he stopped Nicasia from hurting you further than she would have. And by the way Jude recalled his cruelty before they met you, it seemed to have subsided quite a bit since you met him. That still doesn't change the fact that he is cruel, and has been for a long time.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You shook your head clear from your thoughts. "No. Just confused how you could possibly think I would be in love with you."

"You want to know how I know you're in love with me, despite what you might believe?" Cardan grinned and closed the already small space between you two. "Because I know how insufferable you find me. I know how I get under your skin, how you lay awake thinking of how much you hate me. I know this because I feel the same towards you, and despite my feelings of irritation with you, I still find myself completely infatuated by you."

"You are?" You questioned, voice so quiet you might barely have heard it, but Cardan sure did.

He grinned. "Oh, yes. I have been infatuated with you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wasn't lying earlier when I told Nicasia I'd like her to leave your face the way it is. I think you are pretty for a mortal. You give off this glow and iridescence. You are unlike any other mortal I've come across. The way you've kept me up at night, the way I am excited to see you just to have our little spat had me confused for the longest time. Eventually, I just couldn't take it anymore and I’ve decided to act on it."

You couldn't take it anymore. Everything Cardan said resonated so deeply with you. Somehow he knew exactly how you felt. The way you hated him, the way you were angry with yourself when you thought of him so often, everything he said he felt is exactly what you were going through as well.

You decided, if Cardan was going to act on his confusing feelings, you would act on yours as well.

Already chest to chest, you reached up and gripped Cardan hair, tight enough to hurt, and kissed him with all of the pent up anger and hatred for him you had.

If Cardan was surprised, he didn't seem it. He gripped onto your waist and kissed you back with so much ferocity it made your knees weak.

It was hot, and it was unlike any kiss you've ever had before. Kissing Cardan was unleashing something so deep inside of you. All of your confused feelings for him wrapped up all into a long-awaited kiss.

Gasping for air, you and Cardan separated, though not fully. While you were no longer kissing, you had yet to pull your fingers from the tangles of his hair, and he had no plans of letting go of his hold on your waist.

"I still hate you," you said breathlessly.

Cardan smiled, he actually smiled and replied, "I think I hate you more."

Moonlight

PAIRINGS:

Titans!Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce’s goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn’t know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

A/N: in this story Dick and Jason will not have such a big age gap as they do in the show, Dick will be 23 while Jason will be 19, but for the sake of the plot it will, also ignore that there’s already a dc character called moonlight, also the powers I made up for her make no sense at all but we’ll have to deal with it.

TWS: slow burn, angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven’t decided yet) change of plot

Keep in mind that English is not my first language, I also know nothing about guns, human anatomy or fighting in the language so I'm sorry if I make a lot of mistakes

Story Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Superman by Eminem was playing as the car Bruce sent to get you from the airport approached the gothic styled manor you hadn't seen in a year or so, the way everything looked the same brought you a sense of comfort, you knew Dick wasn’t Robin anymore, you were really close to Dick and he had told you all about how Bruce was a bad father and how he didn’t want to become him, you understood him, although you couldn’t help but feel bad for Bruce, you knew he was trying his best and he may not have been the best father, but he was a great godfather, it probably was because he wasn’t 100% responsible of you, he didn’t have to teach you about emotions, life, problems, or shit like that, he just had to spoil you and talk to you, so it was probably easier for him.

As you grew closer to the manor you noticed that Bruce and Alfred were already waiting for you by the door with some guy, he looked a little bit younger than you, but not too much, you couldn’t see him very well from the distance, but he seemed to be in casual clothes so you assumed he lived here, he was probably another stray that Bruce took in after Dick left so you paid it no mind. Eventually you arrived to the mansion and you could cry, it had been a year since you had last seen Bruce and Alfred, it had been a year since your dad had died, he was the only parent you ever knew, your mom wasn’t a deadbeat who abandoned you or anything like that, but she wasn’t “normal” she had special abilities (which you also have) that you didn’t know were special until you showed them to a boy in kindergarten and made him cry out of fear, at that moment you didn’t get why the boy had cried when you just tried to show him how your hands could glow, you then got a long talk from your mom about how most people don’t have the same abilities as you, therefore you have to keep them a secret, otherwise people would be scared or even worse it would put you at risk because there were bad people who wanted those abilities for themselves. You learned to take the talk seriously when your mom got killed by some scientist who wanted to have her powers and it was all thanks to not hiding them too well, leaving your dad and yourself on your own.

The sound of the car’s door opening pulled you out of your thoughts, and you immediately started getting off the car, you started walking towards the entrance of the Manor and all of the memories came flooding back making you emotional, you approached Bruce and just crashed into him with a hug, he became stiff, but he tried to comfort you as you cried in his arms, you hadn’t seen him ever since your dad had died, you had ran away from your problems and went to Europe for a year thinking it would help, but it didn’t, you were completely alone at Europe, at least here in Gotham you had Bruce and Dick and Alfred, you weren’t completely alone, but over there you were, and it just made you realize how much you missed and appreciated them.

When you calmed down, you moved on to Alfred who looked just as neat as always and also hugged him tight, after all Alfred reminded you of a loving grandfather and always gave you comfort, Alfred pulled away and excused himself to bake your favorite desserts, just like he always did whenever you were sad, it all felt so familiar that you felt comfort for the first time in a year. After hugging Bruce and Alfred and breaking down you realized there was still a boy who probably didn’t know who you were and had to witness you being a mess as his first impression of you, poor boy probably would be really uncomfortable after seeing a stranger come into his house and break down while he just stood there, the thought of it made you feel embarrassed making the atmosphere really awkward as you just stood staring at each other not knowing what to do, or say, Bruce took on the tense atmosphere and started introducing you to each other in hopes that the tension would fade away. You learned that his name was Jason Todd and he had just gotten taken in a year ago, some months after you left for Europe, Bruce also told you about how he found him and how he was now the new Robin, Jason have you a short nod as his way of saying hi and then Bruce started telling him about you, he told Jason about your abilities and how you were the vigilante known as moonlight which made Jason look excited, Bruce seeing Jason’s reaction told you how he was a fan of Robin and Moonlight and it sparked a bit of pride inside of you, but then made you feel embarrassed as you realized you had probably disappointed the boy by showing him how weak you actually were.

After the introductions finished, Alfred came out telling you all to get inside and to let you go to your room and accommodate, which you thanked him, You loved Bruce and Jason seemed nice, but you were exhausted after flying and you just wanted to get some rest, Alfred guided you to your room as if you hadn’t bern there a thousand times and insisted on carrying your luggage for you even though you said you could handle it.

“Here we are Miss (Y/N), you already know where Master Bruce’s and my rooms are in case you need anything, and if you ever need Master Jason his room is the one that’s right in front of yours in Master Dick’s old room .”

You thanked Alfred who excused himself and went to the kitchen and you decided you were too tired to unpack and that you would do it tomorrow, so you took the book you were reading and your headphones out of your bag and laid down to read a bit, you were really tired and after some pages your eyes started to get really heavy and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

taglist:

@fairyeoll @singitoutgirl26

If the batkids had a podcast

Redhood: I was a pretty easy child-

Nightwing: You were.

Redhood: Straight A's and everything. Like, I would be hanging out with Batman- (laugh) I would be- You know right?

Nightwing: Yeah.

Redhood: Just chilling. No patrol day. And he would be like "what do you want to do?" and I would be like- "Read! :D"

Nightwing *chuckles*: "Homework!"

Redhood: "Homework!". And then- And then I fucking died-

Red Robin: WHEZE.

Redhood: I fucking- Don't be a easy child.

Red Robin (chocking): Don't be a good kid.

Redhood: Don't be a good kid. Start- I don't know– Start throwing shit on fire or something.

Next post

 "What's your problem with me?" Arkham Knight x F! Reader

Summary: Continuation of this story. Years later, your quiet morning is interrupted when the Arkham Knight sends his soldiers to collect you. Masks are torn away and the man you once loved is revealed but he's not the same Jason Todd you knew, will it be enough?

Pairing: Arkham Knight (Jason Todd) x F! Reader (wears glasses)

Warnings: 18 + for language, violence, blood, guns, mentions of death, torture, and killing.

Cross Posted on AO3

The rain streams down the window pane and you wipe at your eyes, the sleep coming off on your fingetips as you put on your glasses. It’s early and this calls for some tunes. You turn up the music on your phone, shaking your hips as you pour a cup of coffee. 

The stillness of the morning is rather rudely interrupted by the shattered glass and the body sliding across your floor. You scream as three men crash into the apartment, guns drawn and you duck covering your head below the counter. 

“Shit,” you hear someone shout, “where the fuck did she go?!” 

“I don’t know, but we better find her. We know what happens when we fail him.” 

You grab a knife off the counter, clutching it in your hands before taking a deep breath and counting to three. Their heavy boots round the corner and you pounce. The first one goes down with a scream, holding a hand to his neck where the blood gushes out, pouring over his fingertips. 

“Shit,” you hear another shout, “get the fucking knife!” 

The remaining two aim there guns and you wipe a hand across your forehead, the blood trailing across your skin. “You won’t shoot me! I heard you, you’re boss wants me alive.” 

“He said alive, Princess,” the one on the left sneers, “he didn’t say spoiled.”  

“Who the fuck do you work for?” the adrenaline is spiking leaving a metallic tang on your tongue. “What's your problem with me?!” 

“Take her,” the one on the left flips a switch on his gun, the light turning from red to blue before he takes the shot. A bolt of electricity runs through your body and as the room darkens you hit the ground with a dull thud. 

The yelling you wake too does nothing to ease the ache in your head. You blink, eyes adjusting as the room spins in a kaleidoscope of colors. “Shit,” you close your eyes rubbing your head. The couch beneath you is well worn but the blanket thrown across you is soft to the touch. 

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO HURT HER!” a modulated voice shout, “I DONT TOLERATE MISTAKES.” The gun shot has your eyes snapping open and you struggle to burrow deeper into the couch. 

The door is thrown open and a masked figure steps inside. Their chest heaving. You yelp when they smash the gun down on the table and their head quickly looks at me. “You’re safe,” the voice says, their hands raising up to show them empty, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

“I’d beg to differ,” you clutch the blanket tighter, “are they dead?” You nod towards the door behind them. 

They pause glancing over their shoulder before letting out a very human sigh, “yes. They’re dead.” 

“Then why would I trust you?” 

They stand their for a moment contemplating what you’re unsure. They lift a hand and flick a switch, “because I would never let anything happen to you.” 

Your chest pounds, and you stand nearly falling over with the way your head spins. The mask is still in place but you know that voice. He reaches out to help before you fall to the floor, his hands quickly retreating when you right yourself. “Jason?” you whisper, the ache growing the longer he waits to answer. 

He turns, walking over to the window gazing down at the city. You follow, always the moth to his flame. Below is chaos, every sort of bus imaginable filled to the brim as people fight for a seat out of the city. “What’s happening?” 

“Scarecrow gave them a taste of what true fear looks like,” he replies somberly. 

“I don’t understand…” 

“I couldn’t,” he fumbles over the words, “I couldn’t let you go.”

“Jason,” you press a hand to his arm softly.

But he’s quick, pressing you into the wall, a gloved hand around your throat, “Jason Todd is dead!” 

You grab the hand, digging your nails in but he’s not squeezing, just pinning you to the wall. He trembles, brow furrowing beneath the mask at your lack of fear. “Jason,” you whisper, “take off the mask.” 

He squeezes and you gasp before he lets go, his face getting closer to yours, the cold metal of the helmet pressed to your cheek, “I told you, Jason Todd is dead.” 

“Then who are you? Why am I here?” 

“I’m the Arkham Knight. And you’re here because- “ he steps back, leaving you pressed against the wall. He rest his hands on the rail, tightening his grip. “Hal’s is gone.” 

“What?” you press of the wall, “what do you mean?” 

“Scarecrow pumped his fear gas into the place. The patrons tore each other apart. I had you brought here so you would be safe.” 

“My employees? The customers? They’re all dead?” Your stomach churns and you feel nauseous. “I’m gonna be sick.” He turns grabbing you before you fall and helping you to the couch, the trash can appears in his hands and you lose the contents of your stomach. 

“Oh my god,” you press a hand to your head sobbing, “why didn’t you just let me die?! That was all I had left of him. If you’re not really Jason then I have nothing. Just put me in the cold ground beside him.” 

“You own the diner? I thought you just worked there.” 

“I bought it a few years ago. It was all I had left of him. I couldn’t let it go.” You press tour palms into your eyes, rocking back and forth, “I couldn’t let him go.” 

The hiss of the mask opening makes you freeze and you keep your eyes shut tight. “Look at me,” his voice is crystal clear and the tears flow down your cheeks threatening to drown you. You shake your head, and his voice comes out more forcefully, “look at me.” 

“No,” you cry. 

He grabs your wrists, tightening around them painfully, before he pulls you up, “LOOK AT ME!” 

The air is sucked out of your lungs, tears streaming down your face, and you whimper as his hands tighten, not doubt leaving bruises.

It’s him.

A ghost of a man you loved, his skin is covered in scars, a raised brand of a J on his cheek. His eyes are wide and his breathing is erratic as he meets your eyes. “Jason,” you cry, “oh my god, you’re alive.” 

His group loosens and you collapse against his chest sobbing. Muscle memory takes over and he holds you to him, his hands rubbing over your back. His chin resting on the top of your head. 

You pull back, your hand resting on his cheek and his eyes close, leaning into your touch. “I love you,” you whisper, “I love you so fucking much. I never got to tell you,” you speak quicker almost afraid you’ll wake from a dream. “I know you knew it though, how could you not? I never stopped loving you.” 

His eyes slowly blink open, his voice pained, “I’m not the Jason you knew,  Doll. He died in the underbelly of Arkham.” 

“Arkham?” you furrow your brow, “you’ve been at Arkham Asylum this whole time?” 

“No,” he shakes his head, “but I was there for two years. The Joker…he tortured me…burned me, cut me, beat me, broke me.” 

“Oh god,” you can’t even imagine what he’s been through, “how did you escape?” 

“He left me to die. Beat me within an inch of my life with a crowbar and left. I think he got tired of me.” He sounds exhausted and you push him into the couch, looking around the room before seeing the restroom and taking a step towards it. He reaches out for your arm, “don’t leave me.” 

“I’m not,” you promise, “never again. Trust me.” He nods, letting you go and you run to the bathroom, rinsing your mouth with water and grabbing a threadbare towel and rinsing it under cold water. 

You walk back into the room and approach slowly, sitting down onto the couch beside him. “Tell me everything.” 

He tells you how he escaped Arkham, how he fled when he realized the Joker was still alive, that he’d been replaced. You remove his gloves, brushing the blood from his fingertips as he tells you the tale. “Why didn’t you ever come and find me?” 

“I did. I went to the diner and saw you sitting there. The same beautiful girl I left behind. But I wasn’t the same Jason you knew. My time with the Joker changed me. I didn’t want to taint your memories but returning to you half a man.” 

“I hate that you took the decision away from me,” he turns his head to look at you, “I hate that you think I’d love you any less because of what happened.” 

“I’m a murderer,” he states it plainly, “I’m going to destroy Gotham. I’m going to kill Batman. I’m going to burn this city to the fucking ground and when it’s gone I’m gonna dance on it’s grave.” 

“Okay,” you whisper, his eyes widening as you straddle his waist. Your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands firm on your waist as he tugs you closer. Your lips but a breath away, “what’s next?” 

“You don’t know what you're asking for,” he doesn’t push you away, instead he leans closer. “If you stay I’m going to drag you down with me.” 

“Sounds perfect,” there is no space left between you and his lips turn up into a smirk you’ve not seen in years.

“Yeah?” he whispers, his lips brushing yours with every word. 

“I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” His mouth slams to yours and you moan, the feeling of home is euphoric. 

“Fuck,” he groans, devouring your mouth in a mess of tongues and teeth. “I missed you so much, Doll. I never got to tell you I love you.” He breaks away a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. His eyes turn black with rage, his grip on you tightening, “that fucking clown took everything away from me.” 

“Come back,” you run your hands through his hair, “he can’t hurt us anymore. He’s dead, nothing but ash. I’m real,” you grab his hand and he lets go pressing his hand to your chest so he can feel your heart, “you’re alive, you made it out.” 

His eyes go soft, the pupils receding as he listens to the thump of your heart. His breathing slows down to match your own. “I’m going to burn Gotham,” he repeats, “I’m going to kill Batman.” 

“Okay,” you nod, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Kill Batman, burn the city, and then when you're done we leave. We leave all of this behind and live our lives together. We put away the masks, and go.” 

“I love you,” he kisses your lips softly whispering the words over and over again. 

“I love you. All of you. I’ll be here when you get back,” you lean back pressing the button on the helmet, his eyes never leaving yours the entire time as he’s sealed back inside. The eyes glow and you smile, giving a kiss where his mouth would be,  “Now go kill the Batman.” 

no

window pains | jason todd

Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.

A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."

It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 

You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 

That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 

Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 

But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 

Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 

"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"

"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"

You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 

"How'd they get you?" you ask. 

It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.

You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?

The last one, you always know the answer to. 

"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 

He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 

Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 

"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 

"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"

"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."

That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 

You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 

"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."

"You can put them on yourself." 

His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 

Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 

"Can I crash here?" 

"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.

You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 

"What're you doing?" you ask. 

"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."

"I didn't say that, I said—"

"I can read between the lines." 

"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 

"What situation?"

You turn your head. "Nothing."

Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 

"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."

"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."

Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"

You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."

"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."

"Lie the fuck down, Todd."

His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."

Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 

Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 

Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 

"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 

"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 

You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 

"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 

He squints. "It's August."

"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 

"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 

You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 

"You're tired of me," he says. 

Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  

"You are."

"I'm not tired of you, Jay."

You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 

You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 

You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.

You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 

"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 

"I'd be tired of me." 

"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"

Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  

"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."

"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 

He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 

"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 

"I don't need 'em."

"You do. You need another on your forehead."

"It'll heal fine without it."

Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 

"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."

He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 

Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."

"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."

He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 

"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."

Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 

"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."

His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.

You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.

His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 

"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 

You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 

"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 

these are the tropes that i think fit some of the batboys, damian: enemies to lovers ofc, jason: exes to lovers🤭 and friends with benefits to lovers, dick, friends to lovers

idc how old this is, everyone needs to read it

Damian Al Ghul and the Annoying Reporter Masterlist → Completed

Masterlist

AgedUp!Damian Al Ghul x fem!reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, low-key crack fic, action

WC: 18,500

All Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death, mention of death, self-consciousness, salty Damian, Titus liking the MC better

Synopsis:

Wanting to make a name for herself, Y/N does the unthinkable and tries to interview the heir to the League of Assassins. Although, it doesn’t go as planned. How will she be able to salvage this, especially when Damian Al Ghul doesn’t like strangers.

Chapter Index:

Teaser || chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7 || chapter 8 || chapter 9 || chapter 10 || chapter 11 || chapter 12 || Epilogue

Lighthouse (Jason Todd x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: PG-13 (Swearing and a bit of spice.)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you enjoy this one-shot! Special thanks again to my cousin and @problem-bat for beta reading for me! I wouldn't be able to do these works so well without you guys!

Jason Todd was, to put it simply, an elaborate mystery that you've been itching to solve all school year. You've been sitting right beside him, partnered together for a few assignments, and even gotten so far as to consider him a friend. But as of late, every time you try to talk to him, he darts away or cuts the conversations short with half-assed excuses.

Since then, you've been trying to give him space, no matter how difficult it is. Occasionally you can feel eyes on you in class, your brain jumps at the thought that it could be his eyes. But, when you look in his direction, he's focused on his work, shoulders tense and the tips of his ears flushed pink.

The kid that lives next door overheard you talking with your roommate about this debacle the other day and she popped her head in, spouting about how that's how boys in her school act when they like someone. But you're college students, for goodness sakes. You aren't in middle school, so surely that isn't the case.

A lot of people had been afraid of him, with his massive, brick shithouse build, scars littering his face and massive arms, and brooding demeanor. But, you took one look at him and saw a big ol' teddy bear hiding beneath that grizzly bear shell. You think back to the casual conversations you’d had with him.

One day, about two months into your hesitant friendship, he’d come into class, bruised up and looking absolutely exhausted. His dark hair looked as though he’d been tugging at it from stress, the shock of white falling into a loose curl over his dark, furrowed brows. As soon as the professor had released you, you’d taken him by the hand, dragging him to the on-campus cafe. 

You hadn’t even noticed you’d been holding his hand until you were at the door. His big hand had dwarfed yours, fingers haphazardly intertwined. Upon realization, you’d felt your face heating, yet the rest of your body felt cold the second you slipped your hand away. 

When you’d looked up at him and your eyes met, you found that you could no longer hold his gaze like you once had. For this time, you feared drowning in his turquoise eyes, a willing victim to their depth. 

That had been two months ago, just before the winter break. Your feelings were far from fading, and you’d spent the whole break thinking about him, even beyond the few texts you had exchanged. When the winter break ended, the strange behavior on his end began.

Maybe… Maybe he figured out that you were starting to fall for him. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk because he doesn’t feel the same way and he doesn’t know how to let you down gently. The thought alone made your heart clench. The last thing you want is to lose a friend because you caught feelings.

Now, you find yourself feeling like a stranger to a boy who still floods your thoughts. You stare out the window, watching the snow fall, but your concentration on the fluffy white flakes is broken as you hear Jason sigh. You glance over at him and watch as he crumples the page he’s been writing on and starts writing again. 

Despite the distance you’ve been struggling to give him, you can feel the curiosity poking at you. But the way that he’s got his huge arm curled around the notebook makes it impossible to make out what he’s writing or drawing. 

When the professor dismisses the class, Jason bolts from his seat, but the crumpled piece of paper falls from his bag. You grab it to return it to him, but he was already long gone. Considering that this is the last class of the day, he’s likely headed home.

As you stare at the paper, that curiosity pokes at your brain again. You carefully open the ball and you see Jason’s elegant script adorning the paper and your heart drops into your stomach as you read.

"For you are the other half of me.

The bright light to the darkness of my world.

When I feel lost in an empty sea,

Your smile is a beacon leading me to shore

All-encompassing taste of glee,

Everything I want and truly need.

Pulling the fraying threads of my sanity

To tie them back together, my mind is at ease.”

Whoever this is for is very lucky, you think bitterly. As his friend, you should be happy for him, knowing that he found someone who inspires him to write such beautiful poetry. But as someone who has fallen for him as hard as you have, it kills you. 

You continue to stare at the paper before resolving to return it to him and own up to violating his privacy. Each step you take feels as though your shoes are made of lead as you make your way across town to his apartment. 

By the time you finally make it to his apartment, it’s nearly dark. Your face is stinging from the cold, your eyes burning from unshed tears, and your stomach churning from nerves. You try to take a moment to collect yourself before knocking, trying to stop your hands from shaking and to get a hold on your emotions. You’re so caught up in trying to collect yourself, you don’t even hear the footsteps approaching.

His deep voice breaks your concentration as he calls your name. “The hell are ya doin’ here, dummy?”

You glance up at him, but the second you see his face, the urge to cry slams into you like a wrecking ball. “J-Jay? I came to… I came by to give this to you. I… You dropped it when you were leaving class this afternoon,” you explain, jerking your arms out, the crumpled ball of paper in your open hands. 

You hear the rustling of plastic grocery bags being set on the floor, and feel his warm hand brush against yours as he takes the paper from your hands, uncrumpling it. As you wait for his response, the dam holding back your tears finally breaks, a steady stream pouring down over your cheeks. You’re sure he can’t see the tears, seeing as you can’t bring your face up from where you stare at his feet. 

“Shit. Jus’ don’t tell me ya read it,” he finally speaks, his voice soft. 

“I’m so-sorry,” you reply, your voice cracking. “I was just curious. I didn’t… I didn’t think it was anything so private, Jay.”

“Hey, I’m not mad at ya, dummy,” he assures you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “Jus’ feeling stupid. I shoulda paid better attention if I didn’t wanna have it read. I was ‘bout ta make dinner. Wanna join me?”

“I-I don’t know if that is a good idea,” you reply, your stomach still churning, voice still shaking, tears still streaming.

You turn to leave, but his large hand gently grabs your chin, tilting your head so that you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. 

“Ya can’t jus’ expect me to let ya run off on me like this,” he whispers, his turquoise eyes boring into your own. “Come inside, dummy. ‘m not gon’ make ya eat, but at least come in and get warm. It’s fuckin snowing, you’re already shiverin', and ‘m not a fan of sending anyone out into the cold, ‘specially in a state like this. Those eyes of yours are gonna freeze shut.”

He’s careful as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, gently leading you into his place. He helps you out of your coat and boots, before setting them near the heater to dry, and settling you on the couch. By the time he comes back in with the groceries that he’d left in the hall, you haven’t stopped crying, but at least you’ve stopped shaking like a leaf. 

You feel so pathetic. You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry until you were out of his sight, yet here you were, softly sobbing like a heartbroken little kid, curled up on his couch. You can hear him rummaging around in the cabinets, and after a few minutes, you’re out of tears and he’s walking out with a mug of hot chocolate, a heaping pile of whipped cream on top. 

He hands you the mug and you offer him a weak smile in return before he speaks, his voice still gentle. “So, dummy, you gon’ tell me what’s got you cryin’ at my doorstep?”

“It’s nothing, Jay,” you manage to reply, concentrating on making sure that your voice doesn’t shake or crack again. 

You can feel him staring at you as you sip at the sugary concoction he’s given you. When you burn your tongue, you gently place the mug on the coffee table, careful to use the coaster he’s got sitting there.

“I don’t wanna push,” he begins with a sigh. “But it’s clearly not ‘nothing’ if you’re crying. Who the hell do I need to beat up?”

You manage a weak chuckle, shaking your head. “Jay, I swear, it’s nothing. I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because, it’s stupid.”

He grabs your chin again, making you look at him as he speaks, “It’s not stupid if it’s got you upset, dummy. It’s killing me to see you hurt. You’ve got a big heart, we both know it. But, you don’t go around cryin’ over ‘nothing.’ 

“I’ve seen you cry when we’ve watched Titanic, The Notebook, and Bridge to Terabithia. But in the months we’ve known each other, I’ve never seen ya cry for no reason. If you’re crying, it's because you’re hurtin’ something fierce. Tell me that ya read The Fault in Our Stars again. Tell me ya saw that old commercial with the abused puppies in cages and the Sarah McLachlan song in it. But don’t sit here and tell me that you’re cryin’ over nothing. We both know that isn’t true.”

You can’t say anything. Not when he just, with the softest voice you’ve ever heard him use, read you from memory like he reads Pride and Prejudice. Not when he’s looking at you like that, raw concern in his pretty eyes. Not when he’s holding your jaw like you’re made of glass. How is it, within the span of September to February, he’s managed to memorize you?

You can’t help it. In a surge of emotion, you crash your lips to his. He freezes for a moment, but then his hands move to either side of your face, cradling your face so tenderly in his large, warm hands. He kisses you back with a slow, steady passion that sets your veins alight. 

It isn’t until you brush your tongue against his lips that he pulls away, his face red, hands shaking, and his eyes blown wide with lust. 

“I’m sorry, Jay,” you whisper, feeling ashamed as you turn your focus to your hands. You’re not sorry that you did it. You’re sorry that you didn’t ask for his consent before you did it. It feels like nearly every cell in your body is glowing and vibrating with excitement. Yet, you forced yourself on him.

“Hey, dummy,” he mutters with a small chuckle. “You wanna look at me?”

You do as he says and you see a big, dopey grin on his face. His eyes are filled with hope, light, and warmth, making your heart do a cartwheel. 

“Why are you apologizing,” he asks gently, hesitation obvious.

“I just jumped on you,” you reply honestly, and once you start, you can’t seem to stop. “I mean, you wrote that beautiful poem, Jay. I know that you’re interested in someone else and I just forced myself on you.”

“You… You think that I’m into someone else,” he asks, an eyebrow cocked as he shakes his head.

“I mean, it was so beautiful and you clearly had someone in mind when you wrote it. I didn’t-”

You don’t get to continue your thought as he pulls you back into him, pressing a searing hot kiss to your lips. He places his hands firmly on your hips, slowly lowering you onto the couch. You’re confused, but you can’t bring yourself to argue. This time, it's him that brushes his tongue against your lips. You open your mouth without a moment of hesitation, a low groan escaping his throat as your tongues intertwine. When you part for air, he easily moves his mouth to your neck, placing soft kisses to the flesh there in a way that sends a shudder down your spine. He gently nips at your neck and you find a whimper escaping your mouth. 

He pulls away after a moment of nipping and sucking at your neck, a proud grin covering his face as he examines the already forming marks on your skin.

“I’m. Going. To. Give. You. Three. Guesses. Who? Do. You. Think. That. Poem. Was. For. Now,” he mutters, punctuating each word with a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Me,” you whisper, unmistakable hope thoroughly lacing your voice.

“Damn right. Couldn’t get the balls to tell ya, so I was writing a poem to give ya tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Valentine’s Day, dummy,” he replies, allowing you both to sit back up.

“Oh.”

“If you liked the poem and me, I was going to invite you back here. I got all the stuff to make your favorites,” he offers, rubbing the back of his neck. “When I saw you at my door, I was hoping that you wouldn’t see what was in the bags and spoil the surprise. But clearly, I just spoiled it myself.”

“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you and you didn’t know how to tell me you weren't interested,” you confessed, feeling bashful. 

“I’ve been flirting with ya since OCTOBER, dummy. But when you hadn’t gotten the hint by Christmas break, I asked my brothers and my grandfather for help… They all said to spit it out and tell ya. But, I got so nervous, I felt like I was gonna hurl every time I tried to tell ya.”

“You’ve been flirting with me since October? The only thing that really changed in October was that you started calling me…”

“Dummy. I started calling you dummy. ’m not the best at this kinda thing, okay? When you held my hand on the way to that coffee shop back in November, I thought my heart was jus’ gonna up and burst. I’ve never… I’ve never liked anyone the way I like you.”

“Guess that neighbor kid was right,” you mutter, picking up your mug again, taking a hearty sip of the now cooled cocoa.

“Huh?” 

“Neighbor kid is about twelve. She said that boys her age start acting the way you did because they like someone. I told her that was silly, because we were adults, not kids.”

“Well, I guess, you make me feel like a child, dummy.”

You find yourself letting out a laugh as he bashfully speaks, “You know, if you'd like, I could read you the rest of that poem?”

“I’d like that, Jay.”

"Since the day I met you, you’ve enchanted me.

An unfamiliar comfort in a life of pain.

I’ve found that you are the other half of me.

The bright light to the darkness of my world.

When I feel lost in an empty sea,

Your smile is a beacon leading me to shore

All-encompassing taste of glee,

Everything I want and truly need.

Pulling the fraying threads of my sanity

To tie them back together, you make it look easy.

You are the lighthouse that leads me to safety

In the best of all of my dreams, it’s you that holds me.”

“Hey Jay,” you whisper as he finishes.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he mutters before crashing his lips back to yours.

Let's fuck up the friendship : J.T x fem!reader

how cute is that picture? UwU

request by @parkjammys (once again, thank you for making my day by posting pics of Outlaws!Jason today)

based on the prompt: "sometimes i look at people and think.. really? that’s the sperm that won?” With best friend Jason feeling really jealous seeing his best friend that he has a major crush on, talk to some guy (guy is Kyle Rayner) and he's mumbling "he's not even her type"

***

„Why is he here again?” Jason scoffed, carefully observing his best friend Y/N, talking to that stupid prick of a green lantern, Kyle Rayner.

“Dunno.” Dick, still in his Nightwing suit shrugged casually, while stuffing his mouth with cereals ‘probably something to do with the newest mission on Earth or something like that.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all?” Jason hissed, involuntarily clenching his fist. “that he just drops by whenever he wants?”

“No, not really.” Dick swallowed particularly huge piece of his meal and focused on his brother’s face. “does it bother you?”

It wasn’t a secret that Jason and Kyle weren’t exactly friends, but the former never reacted with such…. intensity. All right, most of the times the green lantern showed himself around Jason was throwing offences left and right, showing his teeth and acting like he was marking territory. Kyle, however did exactly the same thing. It was sort of tradition at this point. But all that teasing, fake fighting and extreme emotions never escalated so quickly to the point where Jason was all red (and not because of the helmet or the gear), grinding his teeth and subconsciously reaching for his gun while his eyes were fixed on one place in space. Or rather, one person.

Y/N.

She was talking to Kyle, laughing at whatever he just said, her eyes sparkling, looking happy like never before. And what was even worse she just hit his chest playfully. SHE TOUCHED HIM for fuck’s sake and that fucker really seemed to enjoy that.  On the other side, Jay did not like it at all. How could he? He had a massive crush on her since he could remember and yet, despite all his cool demeanor, harsh behavior and bad boy outlook, he was too self-conscious to ever confront her about it. Stupid, longing idiot, afraid of his own feelings. To tell the truth, he himself wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of the possibility of her pushing him away or rather the fact that by some miracle she might want him. He was not good in relationships, any of them, and that made his mind create crazy scenarios in which she was hurt or killed or sad or crying because of him.

But sure as hell he was not going to let Rayner get to her first!

She was just …. something different.

The girl who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything else. The girl who would stand by you, listening to every rant and problem you may have, but also the one who would turn and run the second she got vulnerable. It was so damn hard, to get her to open up, since on 9 out of 10 cases she would just jump into helping someone else or dig into work.  

And she was his best friend.

What kind of fool falls for his best friend?

It was stupid and childish and naïve and yet, all he wanted and needed was to just approach her that very second, interrupt her happy conversation and use one sentence that would either make her hate him and disappear for good or get them both to a whole new level of relationship.

“Let’s fuck up the friendship.” God, how he wished he had the guts to just get it out of his system.

Instead he settled on watching her from the distance, not rushing to make a fool out of himself in front of both Dickhead and that freaking Rayner.

“Jace?” Dick interrupted his train of thought, smirking under his nose.

“What?!”

“Is this about her?”

“What? NO. Fuck no. She’s just my friend. My best friend.”

“Yeah, right, friends don’t look at friends that way.”

“Whatever!” Jason scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest sulking for a moment and sighing deeply. ‘I hate the way she’s smiling at him.” He mumbled “and she’s not even trying to hide it….” He pouted like a completely immature 5 year old.

“She’s an astrophysicist, Jason.” Dick patted his arm reassuringly “ You can’t blame her for being enthralled by all that crazy space-shit stuff he’s saying.”

“I don’t blame her.” Jason hissed “I blame him, you know? Do you ever just look at people and think: really? That’s the sperm that won?”

“No…..” Dick made a face in confusion. Damn it, if that were the thoughts coming into Jason’s mindthan it really was bad.

“Well, I do. And he’s the living proof of that.”

“Jason…..”

“He’s not even her type…” Todd muttered under his breath.

“And what exactly is her type?” Dick smirked again “Tall, dark haired, well-build douche? If you care about her …..”

“I don’t fucking care about her!” he yelled.

Too loud.

Whoopsy.

Not a chance she didn’t hear that, and the sudden outburst made her turn her head towards him. Shit, if he was red before, now he was simply crimson. Jason found himself between the devil and the deep blue see. Should he clear this little misunderstanding? Should he come clean? Or should he just run away leaving the ground burning?

“Jace?” she stuttered, her eyes growing wide, while Kyle took the chance and wrapped and arm around her shoulders protectively to give her some grounding “Is this about me?”

“Good luck, clearing that out, Jaybrid” Dick laughed, but hid it by pretending to sneeze.

“Shut up, Grayson!” Jason hissed through clenched teeth and slowly approached the girl and Kyle. “It was not about you. It was about some girl Grayson met and about whom he couldn’t shut up. You are my best friend, you know it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, right, best friend’ she mumbled looking down, moving slightly closer to Rayner and away from Jason. Oh, that was like a slap on the cheek. Like a sting right through his heart. Like a….

Was it disappointment in her eyes?

No, it couldn’t be…. Why would she be disappointed?

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, Rayner” Jason used the unimaginable amount of power to control himself “I would love to rescue my best friend from your hand. I bet whatever you say about space must be out of this world, but there are people who actually need her on Earth. On daily basis. Not just while dropping from time to time and leaving her hanging.”

“Oh, Todd.” Kyle cooed “aren’t you just so cute while trying to act like a knight in shining armor. But guess what, she doesn’t need your protection.”

“Right. The only one who’s going to need protection is you. From me.” Jason leaned forward eyeing the other boy with predatory gaze ‘I know what you are plotting, Rayner. And if you think I’m going to let you use her….”

“Is someone jealous?” Kyle scoffed “cause sure it seems you treat me like a threat.”

“Why don’t we take it outside so I can show you how much I am not scared of you. Maybe this time you will deal with someone equal to you rather than seducing girls with your fake charm!” Jason jumped to his feet, Kyle following right after and the tension was so palpable that most likely they wouldn’t even wait to go outside, just beat the shit of each other right inside.

“ENOUGH!” sudden scream coming from Y/N made them both gasp in surprise. Neither Jason nor Kyle has even seen her this angry. She was practically fuming and it was terrifying to see this normally calm, communicative and focused-on-peaceful-solutions-to-problems girl in such state. And it was them who pushed her to this point. She was not a meta or any other kind of superhero but at that moment she held the power of the hurricane and was about to throw it at them.

Shit.

“Y/N…” Jason raised his hands and tried to calm her down.

“Shut up, Jason!”

“ You heard the girl, shut up, Jason” Kyle laughed viciously

“THE SAME GOES FOR YOU RAYNER!”

“I’m sorry….” He whimpered and it was Jason’s turn to laugh.

“I am TIRED of being your toy. Exhausted to be precise. I’ve been making doe eyes at you, Todd for months now. Doe eyes that you chose to ignore every. single. fucking. time. And yet, the moment I move on from this silly, stupid, fucking, one-sided crush you decide to step it and ruin everything. Just because you wanted to? Just because you what? You get jealous now? Fuck, Jason, do you really think you can just do whatever you want, whenever you want, not caring about the others? Not caring what I have to say? Oh, hell no. You don’t hold such power over me. Not anymore.”

“Y/N….” Jason took a step forward, but she jumped away, almost like he was a disease she didn’t want to catch.

“Get away from me!” she hissed “We were just talking, you idiot! I was being nice, not that you know what it means! I’m done with both of you!”

“Wait, what did I do?” Kyle asked, now a bit confused

“Oh, nothing, sweetie.” Y/N mocked “just telling me the shit of improbable stories to make Jason angry while watching me laugh with you. Yeah, I noticed that.” She cut Jason off the moment he opened his mouth to say a thing in his defense “Well, genius, I was laughing at you, wondering when will you finally realize that I did my research and don’t believe a word you say. Are you familiar with the word sarcasm?”

“Haha! Burn!” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh

“And you, Todd, should  learn the meaning of the word honest. You are both losers. I want nothing to do with you. I’m out.”

And so she left. The only sound they heard after that was slamming of the door to her room. She had one at the Manor since her expert knowledge was sometimes needed and she was helping the bats while patrolling at night.

And then chewing on the cereals.

“Well that was quite the show….”

“SHUT UP GRAYSON!”

***

“Y/N? Please, open the door. I just wanna talk.”  Jason was knocking at her door for like 10 minutes now and yet, she didn’t bother answering and he started losing all hope.  Did he fuck up? Was all the chances he had with her gone just because he was a stupid idiot In love and therefore acting like crazy?

“She’s not there, you know.”  Tim emerged from his room, bothered by all the knocking and begging.

“What? then where is she?”

“Hm…. Not sure if I should tell you after everything that just went down…..”

“How do you….? Fuck, whatever. I swear if you don’t tell me where she hid I would burn all the coffee shops in the tristate area!”

“I equipped them all with the fireproof furniture and equipment a while ago. Had a feeling that sooner or later you will threaten me with the lack of coffee….Listen to me carefully, replacement…” Jason took a step forward, towering over Tim’s figure but before he could take any action, another voice joined the conversation.

“Boys. Why do you always have to act like savages? Y/N escaped to the roof. Guess she was in need of some air after that little outburst.”

“Thanks, Steph.”

“Always a pleasure. “ she winked “Oh, and Todd? Make sure to fix it. I really don’t like this Rayner guy, either.”

***

“Was it Steph? I know it was her.” Jason could only do as much as step into the rooftop when Y/N felt his presence. Apparently the time with bats sharpened her senses.

“Y/n. I just want to talk.”

“Ok. Sit. Talk. I’m listening.” She patted the spot next to her and Jason took it without any hesitation. She was willing to listen, maybe not everything was lost.

“I’m sorry” he sighed deeply and that made her turn her head and look straight into his eyes just to confirm if he actually did say the words she heard coming from him

“Wow! That would be the first time I ever heard you say a thing like that!” she laughed

“I mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was playing around with you or anything like this. It’s just…. just…..”

“What, Jace? Come on, just say it. Just be honest with me. I won’t laugh or judge you, I promise.”

“I had a crush on you.”

“Had?”

“All right, I still do!” he threw his hands in the air “Are you trying to humiliate me now?”

“For how long?” she asked looking at the space in front of her, not meeting his eyes and missing the fact that he was eyeing her with love sick puppy eyes, begging whatever deity was there that she would let him love her. Despite everything. He would put all the work in proving to her that he could be better. For her. For them. And if that required honesty – so be it.

“A year.” He muttered, almost inaudibly.

“A year?!” she cried “seriously, Jason! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“How was I supposed to tell you?! I didn’t know if you were feeling the same way! I couldn’t risk scaring you off. I couldn’t risk…. Losing you. ”

“You didn’t notice all those times when I was making a fool out of myself just to get your attention? I mean really, doe eyes?”

“I’m…. I’m not good with all that flirting and teasing and relationship stuff. I … I don’t recognize it well. Besides, you are my best friend and ….”

“And what?” she moved her whole body, so now she was not only facing him, but her whole figure was turned towards him “Just say it. Please.” She begged, looking straight into his eyes, not faltering for even a second. “Say it, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I wanna fuck up the friendship.” He gasped, not really believing the words coming out of his mouth. But once he started he just couldn’t stop the flow “I want to love you. I want to have you to myself. I want to be yours. I want to be able to hold you, touch you, kiss you. I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I want to make you mine. If you let a fool like me…..“

“And it’s not just because of Kyle?”

“Fuck no! I don’t give a single damn about him! I care about you, Y/N. In a more-than-friends way. I’m done pretending. ” he whispered looking down, his cheeks a bit reddened. Not a long though since she cupped his cheek and made him look at her.  “Please, be mine”he whimpered

“Jason, can you promise me you won’t act like a male ego embodied again?”

“I can’t.” he shook his head in resignation “I can’t cause I care too much and can’t help getting possessive sometimes and…..” She didn’t let him finish leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. This took him a bit by surprise, since he thought she was going to ditch him for not being able to promise her what she needed. And instead, she was kissing him?

Damn it, not just kissing, that was clearly an understatement. She was laying all her love on him. Those sweet, soft lips he was dreaming about for so long were on his, brushing over his gently and yet with so much passion he was practically melting. He wanted more and yet, all that tenderness and intimacy of sharing first kiss in the privacy of nighted rooftop was something to enjoy rather than to destroy by any urgency.

And so, even if still confused, he followed her lead, choosing delicacy and softness. Maybe it was what they both needed and enough to get him high and drunk on the feeling of her. He could feel her with every cell in his body. Her touches, her smell, her affection for him. All of it combined.

He barely held back a whine when she pulled back.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he whispered, his hands aching to touch her and hold her to his chest, but holding back because he needed her direct answer. “For acting like a dumbass?”

“You had me at I wanna fuck up the friendship” she laughed lightly, changing position and settling between his legs, not fighting or running away.  

“You have no idea how long I wanted to say it.” He answered, wrapping arms around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her neck softly, inhaling the fresh scent of her shampoo “So long, baby… so fucking long…..”

“Glad you choose the moment when I was forgiving and merciful” she chuckled “’because you know, it could have backfired on you.”

“But you’re not leaving?” his grip on her tightened in a sudden fright this was all just a crazy dream and in a minute he would wake up in his own bed, alone and cold, still yearning for her, none of those words from before said in real life.

“No.” she put her soft hands on his biceps, caressing his skin and all those scars reassuringly “I made up my mind, Jason. It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m done pretending too.“ she turned her head and hid face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose over his skin. “I love you.”

In the darkness of the roof, with almost no stars on the sky and with her eyes closed,  she didn’t notice few tears that gathered in Jason’s eyes and flowing down his cheeks.

He had her.

He finally had her.

And he was not going to let go.

First choice : Jason Todd x fem!reader

Summary: you don;t know what you have until it's (almost) gone.

A/N: this is lightly based on one particular scene from "little women". If you watched it, you'll know.

Warnings: usual Jason ones - swearing and a bit of angst. Apart from that fluff.

***

„Don’t leave with him.”

„I’m sorry?”

“Don’t. Leave. With. him.”

“And why exactly shouldn’t I?” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, putting down the t-shirt she was folding before packing it into the suitcase. She was supposed to leave Gotham. Most probably – for good.

And she was not doing this alone.

She was about to go with Tom, the guy she met a couple months ago at work. At first, there was nothing but friendly feeling between them, but he clearly wanted more. So once he got a promotion and was posted to the branch of the company, he went as far as asking the CEO to second Y/N with him. And that got the girl slowly falling for Tom as well and convinced her to give him a chance. Since then, they have been on a couple dates and shared some innocent kisses but this acquaintance was promising. Finally Y/N found someone who would treat her right, who would give her peace, unlike the bats. Of course she loved all the Waynes , but it was a nervous lifestyle and it was slowly taking toll on her health.  

And that’s how Y/N ended up picking up her clothes, getting ready to take off and leave everyone and everything behind.

Leaving Jason.

“Why Jace?” she repeated scanning his face “Tom likes me and I like him. Maybe we can work things out between us. Shit, I hope we work things out, cause he might be my only chance for getting in a good relationship.”

“That is bullshit!” Jason exclaimed “You know that! That fucker is doing nothing more than encircling you like a prey! You mean nothing to him.”

“How dare you?!” she took a few steps towards him raising hand, almost slapping him across the face but stopping in the last second. “Nah.” Her eyes flashed “that’s what you want, isn’t it? You play your games, you want to mess with my head. Well, it’s not gonna work.”

“You’re gonna die out of boredom with him.  He doesn’t know a single thing about you. For your last birthday he bought you a ticket to the rap show! You hate rap! And one time he took to the restaurant with sea food, which you are allergic to! He’s ordinary! And you know you need thrill! You need night actions! You need working with Babs, with bats, with Red. That’s who you are. ” Before she could move away he grabbed her wrist in an iron clad  grip. “

“Let go of me.” She hissed warningly

“No.”

“I said…. Let. Go. Of. Me.”

“And I said no.” their eyes met and this war of nerves and tensed gazes made them both shiver. It was like a lightning between them. The question was, who was going to give in first. “I can’t do that……” he whispered

“Why?!” she cried out “Why are you trying to destroy my only chance for happiness?!”

“Your …. Only chance? Fuck! Y/N are you serious!?”

“YES! For God’s sake, you do nothing but cause havoc! It’s been like that for our whole life!” she yanked free of his hold and moved a few steps back.

“You deserve someone better!”

“Huh. Really? Someone like you, Jason? Someone who will give my heart attacks every night? Someone who will make me worried and creating scenarios of getting hurt, injured, captured or killed? Someone who will ignore me, cut me out, won’t talk to me, keep me in the dark?”

“Princess.”

“Stop calling me that….” She sobbed and started punching his chest. “Why can’t you just let go?”

“You know why….”

“You are being mean. This is not fair!”

“How am I  being unfair here?!” he shouted “ME? How can you even say that? I’ve spend half of my life loving you and yet, I’ve always been a second choice for you! How do you think that feels?!”

“What…..? But….?” She stuttered but now he was on the roll.

“Let me remind you. You were 20 when the first guy broke your heart and …..”

“You broke my heart first!”

“What…..?” now it was his turn to stutter

“I cried at your funeral, Jason! I mourned you after you got buried! I was in deep depression for months. Don’t you think that leaves a scar?!”

“But I came back. I came back to you!”

“It doesn’t mean anything!  It’s in the past. It’s too late. And don’t say you care, cause you are just acting selfish, as always.”

‘No. No princess. This is not how this Is gonna go. If you need a memory refresher, here we go. When your first boyfriend broke your heart, who was it that hold you, hugged you and did not let go for the whole night you were crying on the couch? Who was there for you? Say it!”

“You were.”

“Yes. And then the next day you were just acting like nothing happened. You run back to him the second he called to apologize. Don’t you think that hurt me?”

“Jace….”

“And every other time when you were broken, scared, worried, shaking in fear or pain who was there for you? Who picked up the pieces? And even then you were always looking up to Dick! My freaking brother! Tell me something, Y/N” he came closer, and she had no way to run, cornered, “why am I always second best for you? Why?”

“Fuck!” she yelled and without any hesitation pushed herself into him locking his lips, letting all the anger, passion and craving for him out. At first he was taken aback, a bit, and the first thought that came to his mind was that he was going to end up alone and played by her again, but the way her body aligned with his, so damn close, so damn perfect got him crumbling. Out of instinct, he took a step forward, trapping her between the wall and his body, grasping her neck and tangling hand in her soft hair, the other gripping her hip pulling her closer. “you were never….” She gasped pulling for air “you were never second….. fuck, Jason.” Y/N fisted his jacket with a mix of anger and frustration.

“Don’t leave with him” he begged caressing her back, desperate to keep her with him, desperate enough to swallow his pride and get on his knees “I don’t want  you to leave. Please Y/N. Stay. Stay with me.” He nudged her nose with his, mouth hanging open, brushing over hers, so damn close,  wanting nothing but to kiss her again, but at the same time unable to.

‘I’m tired of playing games, Jace…..” she whispered closing her eyes.

“This is not a game, you know it….”

“Then say it. Say it to prove it to me.”

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I was so scared of this feeling. For so fucking long.”

“And now….?”

“Now I want you. If you’ll take me…’ he couldn’t hide that pleading tone in his voice. He was begging her to want him, to need him.  So desperate to not be tossed away like a used cloth, to not be forgotten and abandoned, not again. He begged her to love him back.

“I will.” Tears started falling down her cheeks. “I…. I will….I love you too, Jace…..” She sobbed and her whole body shook because of that. “But….” She swallowed hard and took a sharp inhale “Promise me you won’t hurt me. Promise me you won’t break my heart. Promise me you’ll love me right and won’t hide things from me….. please….I don’t want to be hurt again…..”

“Oh, baby….” He wrapped his strong arms around her, engulfing her in his warmth, hiding his own tear-stained face in her hair, kissing her head repeatedly. Only now he realized that they were both equally broken, life in Gotham and their past making them so similar. They were both scared of being alone, unloved. Having that belief that all life would offer them was scraps. “I swear. I swear to you……” he struggled to say those words because of the lump in his throat. ”you are my first choice too….” Jason added and her arms tightened around his waist. “will you stay now?”

“Yes….” She pulled back and looked into his eyes, filled with hope, relief, love and care, just like hers. “I’ll deal with tom later, but now… can you just hold me like this more? I need this. I need you.”

“You have me, baby. I’m yours. And don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of the man who wanted to take you away from me…..”

“I seriously hope that’s not a death threat, Red.” She laughed lightly and it was the prettiest sound Jason ever heard.

“Can’t make any promises on that…..”

hello!! i invite you to go follow me on tiktok and instagram!, i post cool (kinda) edits like this one, the user is @batmanssonsgf in both of them

Tropical Storms and Soup - Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by Anon - Can we get a Jason Todd x reder where htey had a booty call relationship with each otehr? And the reader is focred to call Jason when they need a ride hmoe during a sotrm or something?? Please???

***

Keep reading

are we still friends?

PAIRINGS:

Titans!Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce’s goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn’t know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

TWS: angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven’t decided yet) change of plot

AN: Hii! so I decided to make this a series but I haven’t decided if red hood and Jason’s death is gonna happen yet!!! anyway i hope anyone who reads this enjoys

1. Moonlight

2. The Night We Met

Chapter 3

Jealous :J.T. x fem!reader

Summary/idea: by @littleprettykitten:

Suddenly i have an urge to ride Jason Todd, marking his neck with bite marks and scratching his chest, all jealous and possessive because someone was flirting with him. I want that hunk of a man mewling under me, saying my name like a prayer and telling me how much he loves me. I want bruises on my hips because he was clutching them too tightly and his teeth on my breasts and shoulders because that was the only way he could muffle sounds he was making.

So, here it is.....

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!

***

„You know, usually it’s me who make you jealous like that. ….” She whispered grinding her hips more into him, causing a groan to escape his throat.

“I didn’t….”

“Sh, baby.” She pecked his lips, lightly, teasingly, pressing her body closer to his, nibble fingers running around his abs, chest and shoulders, barely touching, igniting his fire and the need for more “don’t talk….. just feel me….”

Barely a few hours ago they left the house, finally finding some time for the long-overdue date. The plan was simple – movie and dinner. Just spending time together with no rush, no fighting criminals, no patching wounds.

Well, it did not exactly go as it was supposed to.

Sure, they get to the movie theater, but from that, the things started to go downhill, making the date less than romantic.

“Can you go and buy the tickets, Jay? I’ll just take a quick stop by the bathroom.”

“Sure, princess. You go and powder your nose or whatever else you have to do.”

So she went. And when she came back, there was a unfamiliar girl talking to Jason and fucking twirling the strand of the hair on her finger, making doe eye at Y/N’s boyfriend, giggling in a way-too-friendly way.

“Are you here alone?” the girl smiled, putting a hand on his biceps. “It’s such a coincidence I am too. And I could really use some company. “

“I’m not really interested.” He muttered, moving away from her touch. Y/N was the only person in the whole world that were allowed to get this close to him.

“Why not? You seem like you are in need of a girl’s attention. Clearly you are touch starved and I know how to take care of a man.”

“I actually got a girlfriend.” He hissed

“ Really? She’s not doing much of a good job then” the girl laughed “besides, I don’t see her.”

“turn around!” Y/N called from behind, silent fury on her face as the girl spun and looked her up and down “now you see her.”

“I don’t see much.” The girl smirked, but before Y/N could start a fight, Jason stood up from his seat, wrapped an arm around her waist and led her straight toward the screening room, whispering soft, reassuring words in her ear and caressing her skin gently. That did not, however, stop Y/N from turning her head and throwing the daggers at that freak who dared to even come close to her Jason. She just smirked vindictively and both girls knew what that was supposed to mean. 

He’s going to be mine.

Well, over Y/N’s dead body.

Much to Y/N’s displeasure, the girl entered the same room and took a seat right next to  them. Oh, great, now the movie might as well not even exist. The only thing Y/N was able to concentrate on now was the smell of too much used perfume, slight, flirty giggling and annoying whispering.

“You know, I think you could play the main role in that movie” the girl whispered, not even trying to hide what she was saying to Jay “you are so much more handsome than the lead….”

“Could you just stay quiet?” he mumbled

“And so well-build” the girl continued, touching his chest “all muscles, so hot.”

“Will you stop this? I told you I’m not interested.”

“Come on, sunshine. You have a chance to take me home. Aren’t you at least a bit interested how it could be with someone who’s open to some experimentation? Not all vanilla?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your girl, obviously. I know she can’t satisfy a man like you.”

“What the….”

“Enough!!” finally Y/N snapped and jumped to her feet, getting some shouting and cussing about disturbing the peace. Well she couldn’t care less.

“Y/N, baby, please sit down and try to relax….” Jason tried to calm her down, but she was past that. Her eyes were burning with rage and fury, possessiveness of him finding the way out.

“Relax? She’s trying to seduce you!”    

“And clearly it’s working” the girl laughed.

“Do you want to take this outside you little…..?!” before Y/N could finish that sentence one of the cinema worker appeared behind them and, well, to say the least, kicked them out. Awesome. One hell of  a date.

But frankly, it gave Y/N the opportunity to drag Jason back to their place and that’s how he ended up splayed on the bed with her straddling his lips and riding him like crazy, not allowing him to take any action or even a single breath.

“Baby….. princess…..” he whined grabbing on her hips and trying to force her to move faster. The slow, punishing pace she set was slowly making him crazy.  “please…. Don’t tease me. You know that girl there did not….”

“She was fucking flirting with you!” she hissed, pushing his hands away, pining them by his sides and slowing down even more making him throw head back in frustration “and you’re mine.” Leaning forward she started kissing his exposed neck, licking and biting hard enough to form a hickey. The sign of belonging.  In the most visible place he would never be able to hide. “I want you to remember that.”

“Y/N…..” he panted, once again trying to grab her hips, but being too whiny and putty and weak because of all her actions. He never needed to say a thing, the sounds, the groans and moans he was making telling her how much pleasure she was giving him. But…. She was possessive. She wanted more from him and wasn’t going to let go until he was completely falling apart beneath her. She wanted to make a mess out of him to the point where all he wanted was her , her body, her touches. She wanted to wipe the thought of the rest of the female race off his mind. He was supposed to think only about her.

“Do you want me to bond you?” her right hand started tracing patterns on his chest “cause I know how to do that my pretty boy. Unless you behave….”

“No…. no, please….. Ah, I ….. I want …. Y/N……”

“I love it when you say my name like that, Jaybrid.” She whispered in his ear, picking on the pace, skin slapping on skin, echoing through the empty, dark room.

“Y/N….” he whimpered, wanting more, more, more, but unable to ask her for it, settling on anything she would give him. Consumed by her. By the lust and need. And yet, still holding back. The way his face was twisting in pleasure, his eyes fluttering close, his breath hitching and how he was biting on his lower lip was telling her that he was fighting to conceal all the sounds she needed. Well not a chance.

“What do you want love?” one way or another, she was going to get them out. No matter the cost. And if biting on his earlobe, scratching his chest, grinding and circling the hips to create different angle and pushing past his limits was the way to achieve that she was not opposed to.  

“You…. I want you. Please…. So bad. More. More, please…”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I fucking love you. I love you. I am yours. Please, please…..Y/N. Y/n love, let me touch you. ”

“Jason…..” she whispered seductively, groping his pecks  “Jason…..” she was strong and the jealousy definitely spur on her dominant side, but she was still just a woman. With needs. And with her perfect man whining and begging for her.  And her control was slowly slipping. Slightly. “Yes. Touch me.” suddenly his hands were free, clutching her sides, pressing her closer, faster, further. Going in deeper, hitting that one spot where she needed him most.

“Ah!” it was now her turn to let out a moan. “Jason….”

“Y/N,….. Y/N…..” he chanted like a prayer, propping himself up, arms traveling to her back, trapping her  “I love you, I love you…. you….fuck,  so good.” Their sweaty bodies clung to each other almost like with glue, reaching for any part of each other they could possibly reach.

“Just good, huh?” she smirked, tangling fingers in his hair, pulling gently “just good?” her hot breath fanned over his sweaty, reddened face.

“Fucking perfect” he bit on her shoulder trying to muffle another groan and she shivered in pain and pleasure combined, tightening the grip on him, her hips moving on their own accord in the pace the legs were barely able to withstand. But she was far from giving up. She was going to catch her high.  

“Say my name again.” she commanded, breathily, being so close to the release. So fucking close. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Y/N.” his mouth travelled down her body, kissing her collarbone and sinking teeth in her the soft flesh of her breast, soothing the stinging pain with his tongue.

“Again!” she screamed throwing head back “Again!”

“Y/N. Mine. “

“Yes! Yes!” she screamed, holding him tighter “Jace, baby, god, please!” she was not going to let go before pushing him past his breaking point “Cum with me. Cum with me now! I fucking need you to cum! Inside, please, baby. Fill me!”

“Y/N!” at the end, overwhelmed by the feeling of her pussy clenching around him, his lustful brain finally helped him find enough strength to snap his hips against her, squeezing her hips tight enough to leave purple hand-shaped bruised.  “baby, my baby, my girl, my love.” He pressed his lips against her, kissing her frantically, with urgency and clashing teeth, throwing all his load inside her. So fucking deep, her entire body spasming in his embrace, nails clawing on his back, becoming one, not sure where he ended and she begun or the other way round.

“Y/N….” he panted pulling back and leaning his forehead on hers once his balls were empty and his cum was dripping from her pussy. “Baby….”

“You’re mine.” she managed to say “Mine. You hear me? Mine”

“Were you that jealous?” he raised an eyebrow

“Maybe. Maybe not. but fuck, you are just so hot whining underneath me.”

“I liked you on top.” He whispered leaning his head and pecking her lips gently, still keeping her in his embrace, their breaths slowly coming even.

“Really? Her eyes widened in surprise. “I mean of course you did. I am a fucking goddess.”

“Yes.” His flushed cheeks made this tank of a man look like a little, shy boy and damn, she loved that. She adored being the only one to make him this soft and submissive.

“We gotta do this more often than.”

@jasontoddsthickbabe - please forgive me, but I thought about tagging you.

amor vincit omnia | fic cover

Minors & ageless blogs do NOT interact! You will be blocked!

Pairing: Jason Todd x F!Reader

Summary: As the goddess of love, it only makes sense that you should feel at odds with the god of war. After all, the two domains appear to be on opposite ends of the spectrum. Chance encounters while working lead to a growing curiosity about this hated god, and soon the two of you become a topic of gossip not only in Olympus but in the mortal realm as well.

“I appreciate your decorum, but you needn’t be so polite with me. I’m used to the rugged language of the battlefield. If this is your way of kindly telling me to fuck off, speak plainly, so we don’t waste our time.”

Ares’ banter drew a smile out of you, his brusque manner of speech refreshing from all of the niceties you exchanged tonight. Twisting, you rested your back against the railing, propping yourself upright with your elbows as you spoke with tease.

“Sweet god, do you know who you’re speaking to?” You shot your most charming smile at him in case he forgot. “When the goddess of love commands you to fuck, you may end up in a wildly different situation than intended.”

Tags: enemies-to-lovers, incorrect Greek mythology AU, smut, romance, angst, grief, canon typical violence

Trigger warnings: infidelity, rape, death, misogyny

Status | in progress

amor vincit omnia is on AO3 and tumblr!

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