It's Takes Time With Simon, Patience, To Wait For Him Until He Warms Up Enough To Crawl Out From Beneath

You know what one of my favorite tropes is?

When reader starts dating someone in the 141 and quickly finds out that they’re a package deal.

The first time you meet the rest of them (very early on) they’re hovering around the edges, just waiting to be let into the group, like a pack of shy dogs wanting attention and to be loved but scared of demanding it, scared of frightening you away.

And then you look at all of them, truly look—at this captain who always has to be right. If he’s not right 100% of the time then people he cares about get hurt.

At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.

At this handsome sergeant, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, trying to follow in his captains footsteps, but the steps are so large he scrambles behind, always feeling like he’s never going to catch up.

At this energetic sergeant who has been shooed away again and again, never finding the person with the patience to deal with his attention. Always loud, always restless, looking forward to the next thing.

And you’re standing there looking at them—deciding if you want to let them into your home, into your life.

Because they are a unit, and you can pull one out for a short time but they will end up wound back into the twisted rope before the end.

So you do.

You let them in.

But they are dogs through and through. Pack animals to their core and you’re part of them now.

No going back from here.

Oh, He’s Big Big 18+

Thinking about Jason Todd just being big. Big hands, big cock, even bigger heart. Practically pawing at you, able to hold the plush softness of your thighs when you’re sitting on his face, hands large enough to encircle your entire wrists. Cock the size of a monster can, splitting you open so that you feel in it your throat when he’s fucking you into the bed. Being sore for days after a quickie. Jason who cares so much. Will be there any time of day or night if you need him and will break a few noses along the way.

That’s it. Send tweet.

May I request Aventurine going through a lot after his girlfriend broke up with him out of fear? He barely eats, he can't sleep, and keeps having dreams if her. One night, he goes to her house and, after a long talk (with lots of tears), they get back together.

A/N : Anonnn why are you so mean to him :((( *proceeds to write a 2,5k words long worth of tormenting Aventurine* also this might turn darker than what you were expecting so please do mind that you shouldn't read it if you don't feel comfortable!

Warning (please read) : I gotta be honest this is pretty fucked up, please MDNI, probably graphic, self loathing, self blaming, insecurity, alcohol, drugs, detailed description of self destruct, obsessive behaviour, psychological trauma, manipulation, slight mindbreak, happy ending

You, leaving him in the middle of such a lovely day surely wasn't in his schedule back then. You came to him that afternoon, eyes swollen and your figure trembling like crazy. He had just finished his paper before he stood up abruptly, heading straight to the door of his office where you stood there unmoving. 

.・゜゜・

“What happened to you, dear?! Let's get you some water-” He was about to bring you out of his office before you quickly shook your head. You held the hem of his fancy coat to prevent him from going anywhere. 

“I have something to say,” He stays right in front of you, his Sigonian eyes focusing on your pitiful state. 

“Let's end it here.” Aventurine cannot believe what he had just heard. 

“End what, to be exact? If it's the movie site subscription you've mentioned last week, then we can upgrade it to-” You throw him a troubled expression, as if unsure of yourself but your speech says otherwise. 

“End this relationship. I can't keep up with you, Aventurine. Whether it is a space I needed or if this whole relationship is just not working, it could be both.”

“Wait- you can't be serious! Let's talk this through,” his confident tone breaks in an instant, his lips quivering. He tried to hold your hand in his, but you pulled it away from him. You whispered a small ‘no’ before turning your body to leave him. 

“Was it me?” you feel horrible for him but it's for the best. You continued your step as he followed right behind you like a lost puppy. 

“Please, you can tell me anything! Is it my wrongdoing? Just tell me- I won't get mad, I can fix it! Look, just stay here for a little longer and let's try to figure something out- is it my gambling addiction? Or I could erase more of my upcoming schedule to spend more time with you- wait, no, is it that you're mad at me for always teasing you? Was it the way I rarely came home on time- am I too overbearing? Do you not like anything from me- point it out to me-” Words poured out of his mouth like waterfall, his head feels heavy and his thought is a jumbled mess. Aventurine tried to recall anything in his memory that might make you sick of him. He tried to make a reason within his coherent thoughts to pinpoint on why you might leave him so suddenly. The man had his own concerns towards how he feels like he isn't doing enough for you. After all, you're his everything. He'd do anything, anything to keep you by his side and he meant it. Aventurine trusted you with his whole life so whatever came out of your mouth, he would do it without any hesitation.

The moment you stopped on your tracks, his mouth immediately went shut. 

“It's not you, Aventurine. It's not your fault and I hope you understand. So please… stop following me, okay?” 

.・゜゜・

Since then Aventurine felt like his whole world had been flipped upside down. He stands right where you told him to stop following you, not moving an inch even after you were long out of sight. His buzzing phone inside his coat didn't move him a bit as if he's a mere wax statue. He can't feel his legs. Or feel anything at all at this point. Only when his assistant came to grab him back on track, he reluctantly left his previous spot. 

Calling him a goner was an understatement. 

This man is beyond salvation. The first few days of your absence were still tolerable as his brain is still digesting your departure. His consciousness thinks that you're still around and he can bump on you anytime. That very small habitual thing kept him at bay for such a short time and by the time he realized that you're not coming back for good, he snapped. 

Aventurine tried his best to keep his work on time, traveling here and there, managing things as usual, but it gets too much real quick. It's his job, isn't it? 

Truthfully speaking, his life was such a mess before you came and you've made him human in every possible way. You were so close, he loved you so much, you loved him so much, every day passed with you was always better than before. Ahh… Aventurine needs to get this stinging wound off his chest if he needs to do anything. He's too scared to call you, or to text you, even. He was sure that the sole reason why you left him was himself. He cannot possibly burden you further, no? You've been so so generous to even spare your heart for him. To shower him with your attention you gave him. Even if you were to strip his wealth off him, he wouldn't think it'll be enough for him to repay your deeds for every system hour you waste on him. 

It was always like this. The moment Aventurine comes home to his supposed shared apartment, he frantically rummages through your closet to grab… anything you've left there. He pulled one of your comfy shirts with care to bury his face in it. He's glad that it still has your lingering scent. How long has it been? One week? Two weeks? He can't even count. He tried to cope so hard without you but he doesn't even have the strength to actually reach out to you in fear of pushing you even further from him. If he's being rational and, as you said before, gave you space, surely there are still chances? 

Aventurine plops himself to his bed, not even caring about changing his clothes. He hugs your clothes close to him while he's inhaling it like his life depends on it. Well, his life might be. Your remaining scent was the only thing that can calm him down to actually sleep. At least even with your usual spot beside him vacant, where he cannot examine your peacefully sleeping face anymore, he still has some part of you left with him. 

So what happens when he doesn't have any more things revolving around him? 

Aventurine tried to find any remaining clothes or items you left to might still have your scent in it only to find none. He bit his own lip, hard. His head is getting dizzy. Maybe he still has those homemade jellies you've made inside his fridge! He brings himself to the kitchen only to find none. Ah, right, when did he last eat a decent meal? He didn't know. He has been savoring the remaining things you've cooked inside the fridge. He often came home late so you've managed to make some meals that'll last some time being frozen or kept. He had been only eating off it when he really, really needed it. When will he actually get a taste of your cooking again? Even as a gambler, he wouldn't dare to guess. 

He groaned in frustration at the fact and fell down to his knees. His head is hammering so bad he feels like he needs to take it off him. 

So what will he do if there's nothing left? 

Aventurine stumbles his way to the cabinet he rarely touches with you around him. A full bottle of vodka could probably help him. He chugged the whole thing carelessly, anything to get him off this lonely feeling. His head felt like it was full of knots which kept him from forming any rational solution. He should start to consume those cheap pills that helped him through his early IPC days. Whatever it is inside it, it helped him through things. Maybe if the dosage isn't enough he could use a more potent one. Anything to keep his brain working. He can’t at least lose his job, right?

To those who have seen Aventurine a lot, they will notice how his form deteriorates so quickly. His skin got paler, eyes unfocused, and his seemingly permanent business smile was barely there. No one is there to actually keep an eye on him. Even his oh so silent bodyguards got concerned about him. They’re probably worrying about their paychecks, but it still counts doesn’t it? Man doesn’t even get to sleep, he just continues drinking and drugging himself until he passes out. The amount of time passed while he’s unconscious should be enough to count as sleep hours. It will be bad if this keeps on, but Aventurine couldn’t worry less. As long as his work is done, right? 

Everyday he looks at his one and only pinned chat. Your contact. There has been no single chat coming from you, so he assumes that you really did leave him for good. You don’t even use any single credit inside the banking app connected to his account. Did you delete it off your phone? You probably did. He knows too well that your presence in his life cannot be bought with any amount of credit possible. Aventurine didn’t want to bother you, he really did, but he has been long past his breaking point. He types on your chat, hands trembling so wildly over such simple text.

“Help me”

—

Everything felt like a blur. The moment you agreed to help him, he flew to your place in an instant. Aventurine knocked your door desperately, only for you to open the door shocked at his miserable state. You pulled him to your couch. No words were exchanged until you came back to him with some water and snacks. 

“I need you back,” His voice shakes, hands too unstable to do anything. He can finally see you again. You shushed him, not wanting him to talk before taking some of the drink you gave him. What happened to him?

“I can’t keep this going- please, tell me what I did wrong, I know I’m not the most flattering lover, but if there’s anything I can do to have you back- I’ll do it” his words are frantic, fat tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You feel like a knife just stabbed you right in your heart. Was it you who made him like this? 

You sit beside him, hugging his trembling form. He quickly reciprocates your gesture, his tears finally spilled as he sobbed at the feeling of your warm embrace. You didn’t know it’ll be this bad.

“You did nothing wrong, my dearest… Aeons, what happened to you?”

“Then why did you leave me…?” It was a complicated story, really. Seeing him in such a pitiful state wouldn’t be a proper time to explain everything. You stroked his back to soothe him, opting to offer him some meal to at least let him recover first. He nodded eagerly at the suggestion. It’ll be a cute sight to see him clinging to you, refusing to leave your side while you walk around the house to prepare him some dinner. If he wasn’t this utterly traumatized. 

You managed to let him eat to the fullest and take some shower while changing to one of your oversized shirts. He looked so happy you couldn’t imagine what happened to him during your absence. You took him to your bed, Aventurine is now nice and clean. 

“So now you’ll tell me?” He asked you, looking so innocent in contrast to the state he came here earlier. You sighed, positioning yourself beside him. 

“I would, but seeing your concerning eyebags, I think it’ll be better if you sleep first?” He thought about it for a moment. You sensed his hesitation so you opened your arms for him. 

“I promise I won’t leave you. You trust me, don’t you?” and that sealed the deal, he jumped right to your embrace. It didn’t take him long to sleep in your arms. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The moment he woke up, seventeen hours later, you were sitting next to him while scrolling through your phone. Aventurine couldn’t be more happy. Seeing him now awake and refreshed, you wasted no time to answer his questions. 

Apparently a certain group of IPC executives were giving you misinformation about how he loathed your presence, as if he was forced to keep you beside him, but he was too occupied with work so he couldn’t really do anything about you. They said that it would be better if you initiated the breakup. Your presence had made him less productive, too many unnecessary leaves, and you’re one of the reasons why he always came home late. They said that it was because he doesn’t want to see you so early during nighttime. You wanted to shrug the idea off but they had a point. He always came back late. And they do spend more time with Aventurine than you are. They worked together since you haven’t met him. You wanted to trust Aventurine for not being such a person, but with how you know him, he is great at masking his expression. He can control his appearance as he wishes like an autopilot and you’re sure to think that he could’ve done it to you too. 

Every lie they told you was perfectly tailored to the point you actually believed them. Hence why you looked so bad when you came to his office that afternoon, you were contemplating with yourself as well. The moment you’ve left him, there are no chats from him, which on your side confirms that he is indeed sick of you. You wanted to ask him about how he’s doing but you didn’t want to burden him. You’ve been using his credits for your needs as he asked to, the amount of gifts and dresses he gave you weren’t a laughable amount. You’ve done so little compared to him, and to have people he’s close to shoving the fact that you’ve been nothing but a hassle to him? Not to mention how powerless you are compared to them to actually do something about it. Mind Breaking. 

A long silence enveloped the both of you as you finished your side of the story. It could’ve been prevented by a vocal communication, but he wasn't to blame you for whatever happened. He could feel his rage form at the thought of you, going through such layers of manipulation just for being there beside him. But who is he kidding, of course lots of people would pay a hefty sum of credit to watch his downfall. Now with things clear from your side and his, Aventurine knows where to collect his next debt.

To be honest I am quite surprised that I haven’t receiving any yandere aventurine asks so I might do one myself later <3 If you want to support me please tip me on ko-fi so I can buy noodle packs HEHE, or commission me (I can do any hyv characters! I have other fandoms as well, you can just ask away) and Thank you for reading!

a lil birthday present for @sunlitlemonade :’) <333

based on this fic,, pls go read all of them actually!!!!!!!

Mission Wetwork(?) all i could think about was emerging from the water and a lilly pad on Price instead of his little hat

Bruce Wayne except he texts like an ominous boomer

wdym you can't tell if he's threatening them?

Based on this post by @mysterycitrus :)

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Bonus:

Happy birthday, Tim 🥰

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MAD — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. alcohols consumption (drunk! al-haitham), post argument, fluff, ft. kaveh a real one for dragging home a heavy ass muscle man

al-haitham is good at holding his alcohol—at least, he is unless you’re in the middle of an argument. if you’re both arguing, then he seems much less likely to stay sober.

tonight for example—you open your bedroom door when kaveh (not so quietly) awakens you with his incessant knocking, grumbling under your breath as you reach for the door knob and twist. before you can even fully open the door, a very drunk and very heavy al-haitham is handed to you to hold steady.

“here, he’s your headache now,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “i was supposed to be the heavy drinker of tonight,” he glares at al-haitham (who doesn’t help himself any further when he glares right back), “my day was far more stressful.”

“what draft are you on with this client?” you ask sympathetically.

kaveh flares his nostrils as he grumbles, “six!”

“maybe seven will be the charm,” you hum, chuckling, “i’ll get this headache of mine to bed.”

“please do,” he nods, “and i wish a terrible hangover on him in the morning too.”

with that, the door is shut, and you hear kaveh walk off and slam his as he grumbles some more about the drunk mess in your arms. at least you and kaveh have that much in common tonight—a shared irritation for the akademiya’s ever so charming scribe.

(truthfully, it’s hardly an accurate description at the moment—al-haitham’s charms are currently little to none after earlier.)

“you’re not doing yourself favors,” you turn your attention to you boyfriend, who stumbles a little as he buries his head into your neck. it’s a tad bit adorable—but then you remember the know-it-all attitude from earlier and decide you’re mad again. “disrupting my sleep for your lightweight habits isn’t a good way to apologize.”

“not a lightweight,” he slurs—and then he pulls away and pouts, “still mad?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“very.”

“‘s not nice,” he huffs, burying his face back into your neck.

you can feel the way his lips are curled into a pout as they kiss your neck, and even though you’d like to say you have better self control, you can’t help but wrap your arms around him. it’s just to keep him from falling, you reason—just because you’re mad at him doesn’t mean you want him to potentially fall and break something, and that would only mean taking care of him more, which you do not need right now.

“you know what else wasn’t nice? telling me i’m wrong when i’m right,” you huff, “and then arguing that i’m wrong even though you know i’m right.”

“said i was sorry,” he almost whines—drunk al-haitham has at least a few perks. one of them is how much more affectionate he is, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your cheek. “you’re soft,” he hums, “love you.”

“you smell like beer. go to bed,” you grunt, trying (and failing) to pull away and guide him to the bed. you don’t make it two steps before he’s latched back to your body.

“say it back,” he gasps, “say it.”

“al-haitham,” you groan, “you can’t be serious—”

“haitham,” he corrects, “supposed to call me haitham.”

“would you like to sleep on the couch, haitham?” you ask with a dry smile on your face, eyes narrowed as he shakes his head. he tucks it into the crook of your neck, sighing happily as he inhales your scent.

“no, ‘s not good f’my back.”

“your back is the least of your concerns right now,” you mumble bitterly. “okay, let’s get you undressed.”

“you’re not mad?” he brightens up immediately at your words, taking them entirely out of context. his lips lean in to press against yours as his hands snake under your shirt, making you huff and slap his hands away as you turn your head and force his lips to meet your cheek.

“oh, i’m still very mad. don’t even think you’re getting anything tonight,” you scold.

for the nth time tonight, he pouts. and truthfully, you’re only human at the end of the day. if the akademiya’s usually stoic and composed scribe—who happens to be your equally as stoic and composed boyfriend—seems to pout this many times in one night….well, it would make anyone’s resolve crumble. even someone who’s angry after an argument—someone much like you.

“you’re a lot cuter when you’re drunk, you know that?” you giggle, poking his cheek lightly. he hums, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your skin as he leans more weight into you.

“aren’t i always cute?”

“not when you’re stubborn.”

“‘m cute,” he argues, “y’think ‘m cute, right?”

“no,” you grin, just to tease him. it’s a bit fun—pulling those wide eyes and curled lips from him, pulling that slightly crestfallen look that only a drunk al-haitham would let you witness.

it’s not too mean to let yourself indulge in this just once, is it?

“don’t be rude,” he slurs, “love you. say it back?”

“say please,” you tease, chuckling as your fingers thread through his hair.

he seems to brighten when you offer him a bit of affection, leaning into your touch as he sighs happily. “please,” he says politely, pressing a kiss to your skin before adding, “‘m sorry,” for good measure.

“how sorry?”

you plan on dragging this out for as long as you can—is it morally correct to take advantage of your drunk boyfriend? perhaps not….but no one is perfect, and you’re no exception.

“really sorry,” he mumbles, squeezing your hips.

“sorry enough to do the dishes for the week?”

“mhm,” he nods.

“kaveh’s too,” you add, with a satisfied grin on your face.

he nods, mumbling a quiet, “okay. kaveh’s too,” without question.

“how much do you love me?”

“a lot,” he says slowly, and by now, he’s leaning enough weight in you that you can tell he’ll fall asleep any moment. so you chuckle, pulling him along slowly before letting his body hit the mattress.

“this is my side of the bed,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes, but he doesn’t seem to hear you as he closes his eyes and sighs when your hand cups his cheek and rubs the warm, flushed skin. “do you love me more than you love being right?”

“mhm,” he hums, half awake as his eyes droop, “say it back now.”

“i love you too,” you finally crack, leaning in and kissing his lips briefly, “even if you’re rude and impossible.”

“‘m still cute,” he rebuttals, “right?”

“oh yes,” you giggle, “the cutest.”

“good,” he nods. and then his eyes close, and he’s snoring lightly, cheek still pressed against your hand.

you’re supposed to be mad, maybe even give him the silent treatment for a bit—but then you watch him sleep peacefully, the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips when your fingers thread through the sweaty locks of hair. regretfully, you can’t stay mad, not when it’s al-haitham—and especially not when it’s drunk al-haitham.

“you’re such a headache,” you mumble, kissing his forehead before joining him on the bed and tucking into his side.

and when he wakes up in the morning, with what is hopefully the awful hangover kaveh wished upon him, you’ll make sure to remind him of his agreement to do the dishes. kaveh’s too.

if u try to tell me al-haitham isn’t a clingy and affectionate drunk, ur wrong. he’s so babie after he drinks

you, clever as always (are still dreaming)

zhongli x gn! reader

- drabble; 780 words - fluff & cuddles - slight hurt/comfort - part-dragon zhongli

————————————————————

a quiet sound from across the room awakens you from your reverie. what could it be..?

[snuggles w/ half-dragon zhongli] 

title from r sound design - flos.

requested by anon.

————————————————————

Okumaya devam et

I feel like if ı start to read smut, ı will ever be a virgin again

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."