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abiik · 4 years

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@vhsgf replied to your post “this song made me realize i've never written about jason missing zoe”

heather this might be too forward and angsty of me to say (pls lmk if is) but now i am curious about zoe reacting to jason's death and then mirroring w jason coming back from the dead and then finding out his best friend is dead. like it sounds so PAINFUL but like. also i wanna know about it. heather what have you done i-

i had to put my hair up for this. im literally so emotional about this rn,,,like when am i not but STILL OKAY IT MAKES ME VERY [SCREECHES] (also a read more because this is fucking long im so sorry)

okay let’s start with zoe because jason’s death is a traumatic thing for her on like multiple points all relating back to when she was like elementary school aged (im pretty sure i have it where she’s like 8 ish when this happens). before jason and before going into the whole vigilante business – no matter what version of zoe you prefer – she loses her two younger brothers in a joker related accident. he kills them. and zoe… zoe is so,,, well she’s angry. because no one does anything. no one. not that fabled batman, not the police, not the fucking government – NOBODY. and she’s just supposed to keep living her life like everything is fucking fine because oh that’s just the way gotham is. and like why the fuck would she just keep living her life when her barely out of toddler aged little brothers are now dead?? why wouldn’t she want to do something about that?? why the fuck should she just let it roll off her back like no biggie?? (of course, this is a catalyst for her mother’s downward spiral and eventual disappearance, and then keme’s).

then of course, there’s zoe’s powers. at that age she didn’t really understand the extent of them, what she could do with them and all that, but as they develop and her own awareness of them develop, she is faced by like intense guilt and remorse. if only she’d been able to do something. if only she’d been there. if only she could’ve stopped the joker. if only, if only, if only. and like, realistically, there wasn’t much she could do. it wasn’t like she knew fully how strong she was; she’d barely gotten flying down at that point, but then she’s growing up and she realizes she never really had a limit. and she kind of has this complex, i’ve said it before but she really does try to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders, so everything that has happened to her up until this point after the twins die, it’s partly her fault; if only she could have been better, she could have saved them, she could have her mom, she could have keme – she could have her family back.

then, of course, there is in all of this her intense hatred of the joker. and by correlation to the whole fucking issue, gotham city and batman. (ive said that they kind of grow to like each other more, but when z and jay become friends and through their teen years until his death, it’s kind of like whenever youre gay and your bff is gay and you both kind of hate the other’s really fucked up parent who’s okay sometimes but isn’t all the time and you would totally like throw down with them if only there weren’t like,,,repercussions)

anyway, so when jason dies, it’s a big fucking deal. like he’d already been acting weird, bruce was worried about him, z was worried about him, and then he dies okay. and zoe… bruce doesn’t tell zoe right away. he doesn’t tell her and when zoe does find out, she. is. pissed. all of the shit with her baby brothers comes back. she wasn’t there. she wasn’t able to save him – because she sure as hell KNOWS that she could have at this point. and now he’s GONE. AND THIS ENTIRE TIME, SHE HAD NO FUCKING CLUE BECAUSE BRUCE DIDN’T TELL HER!!! she couldn’t even go to his funeral!!! and then, AND THEN, on fucking top of that – it was the joker who killed him. so jason’s death was like a fucking quadruple blow to her.

after finding out the details, zoe goes binary for the first time. and it’s… well it’s scary. it takes a whole lot of coaxing from old teammates and being physically restrained by diana (who lowkey is kinda like why?? are?? we?? stopping?? her?? from?? killing?? the?? joker??) and clark and donna, and they can’t even really knock her out because when she’s binary, there’s only really waiting out the duration of the high until she passes tf out from using too much energy. which she DOES and then after a good long talk with gran-gran, zoe’s going on a much needed retreat with diana to themyscira.

during that time, zoe’s super depressed. like reasonably, so. she’s so exhausted and she’s still angry but she’s also just like,,, so tired. she lost her best friend dude. like she loves jason so much, she loves him so much, and then he was just gone. poof! and at least, at least with atsa and ahiga, she got to like, be there for their send off. jason ends up being another hole in her life, like her dad and her mom and keme. he’s added to this list of people who all were just…g o n e. she didn’t get to mourn them. like obviously, she can, but every time she thinks about jason, she begins to spiral. (this is kind of when she starts drinking,,,, human alcohol can’t really touch her but she does therapeutically – which is!! not good!!) she also begins to distance herself – from jason’s titans (connor holds on with an iron grip and eddie still checks up on her, but rose was just as distraught and kyle is still kind of numb), from the original titans, from bruce and alfred, from diana, even from gran-gran and uncle bell. she fills the void with work as well as the alcohol that doesn’t really do anything to her except make her mouth taste gross and weird and she hates it but it’s become a habit. if she isn’t out doing some reckless thing while saving the world, then she’s at a bar or just sitting by the ocean.

she has bad dreams too, like horrible dreams. and like,,, they’re not necessarily horrific or anything,, she usually dreams about good times, memories with jason or with atsa and ahiga, sometimes some weird mixture of all three of them hanging out together and it’s the worst fucking thing because she wakes up and she wishes she was there too, that she could stay with them, because she misses them so much. she just wants her family back, she wants the family she had before jason and dick and alfred and the titans, but she also wants them too – she wants all of it.

and then it all comes to head with her dad’s sudden involvement with earth and shit. zoe sacrifices herself not only because she carries the fucking world on her shoulders and has a stupid martyr complex, but also because she thinks she’d be okay dying like this. she doesn’t. die that is. she doesn’t die but she also doesn’t come back.

jason’s revival story arc thing is all a bit murky for me bc I kind of like mix the whole waking up and clawing himself from his grave and also the under the red hood storyline (and like correct me if there is a version like that bc like,,, idk I can’t remember). anyway, so jason comes back, and like it’s kind of messy bc of timeline shit but he doesn’t really come back, come back, until z’s gone. like gone gone. like they held a funeral and everything for her. jason didn’t get to go and THAT is SHIT. like yeah, he wasn’t fucking alive, nobody fucking knows he’s alive anyway, but it still hurts.

and like,,, you know what else kind of hurts, is like he kind of thought that after he came back, if no one was on his side – if for some reason literally everyone was against him – he’d still have zoe. that’s the worst fucking part. he hears about what happened. he hears that she literally went ballistic. and like,, jason KNOWS that zoe would have his side, that zoe would be there for him, that even if she might not have agreed with some of the things he’s done, that she’d be right by his side, showing she cares. because like. like I know bruce is kind of stunted with emotional expression, but it’s really hard to feel like you’re appreciated when someone else’s love language is so fucking hard to translate, when you need constant validation, to be told you matter to be shown you matter to them and they can’t accommodate even a little bit, because of their pride or because they have to deem that you deserve it all of a sudden. and like I love bruce, but they way he treats his kids is shit. so yeah. jason feels hella alone when he comes back and his best friend, his rock, his ride or die (literally wfkejvnk) is fucking gone.

jason definitely has nightmares too. he doesn’t know how zoe died, like really know – no one does, because there hadn’t been a body. and jason’s mind can be a pretty dark place already, add on top of that the nightmares about his best friend dying the same way he did, or being like dick, who actually witnessed the explosion that ‘killed’ zoe. he can’t even fathom what zoe went through with his death, but eventually, as jason kind of comes back into the batfam and shit, he also kind of gets to be with the last of zoe’s family. gran-gran and uncle bell are much warmer than bruce wayne and that too big mansion and that cold fucking cave. jason goes to the ranch a lot, or finds himself at uncle bell’s antique shop whenever he needs a breather, to just be alone with something that close to zoe.

they literally both go through that period where they’re extremely reckless with mourning and regrets and fuck i never got to say this and fuck what could I have done differently, what could I have changed if I’d been there? but where jason is able to recover more effectively, zoe doesn’t do so well in space.

really, that song had triggered thoughts about jason going through her things, the things she left in his bedroom – that bruce refused to touch or move or anything – and just thinking back on their life together. it was definitely shorter than they expected and when jason thinks about it, it’s a whole bunch of salty anger and throat swelling sadness that has him kind of crippled. because like,,, he also knows how the twins died, he knows how it happened, not only did he have the firsthand accounts from those most effected, but also like, he read the reports. he KNOWS, and he feels kind of guilty, just a little bit, that what he did put her through a similar version to losing her baby brothers.

NREJKVNERLFEWLFJNEKR FUCK OKAY I THINK I NEED TO STOP LIKE THIS IS OBVIOUSLY JUST A BIG DUMB BUT BFJKERNFKJEN F U C K OKAY

#vhsgf #h replies.#look they make me fucking cry #their relationship hurts me so bad #and fuck whenever they MEET AGAIN!!!#LITERALLY SO FUCKING RECKLESS TTRYING TO KEEP THE OTHER FROM EVER LEAVING THEM AGAIN LIKE HAHA SIKE BITCH #I DIDN'T COME BACK FROM THE DEAD ONLY FOR NOTHIN #YOU'RE NEVER GETTIGN RID OF ME AND IM NEVER GETTING RID OF YOU #oc: zoe huang #this is also so fucking rambly i apologizeee #suicide /#depression /#death /#alcohol /#ask to tag

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mssjynx · 5 years

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Are you doing the soulmate drabble thingy? If yes? Can you please do uhhh krii7y or ohmtoonz 4 "you just saved my life...." (I also thought, what if one hurt themself and is depressed and the other one panicky tries to find their souldmate before it's too late, only for them to realise that it's their close friend?) (Ps: the last one was just one of my tired "what if"s, if you don't want to you can just ignore it and write anything else) (ps 2: love your stuff ÚwÙ)

a/n: i dont wanna make this too depressy bc i like making these drabbles fluffy cuteness so im just gonna go and see where this takes me pfft. but i hope you enjoy either way!

trigger warning; violence

krii7y drabble

4. when your soulmate is hurt, you feel the same pain and receive the same injuries.

prompt: “You just saved my life…”

His soulmate was an idiot, really. A clumsy, dumbass who seemed completely incapable of going a day without somehow injuring himself. And considering the whole soulmate thing, John had to put up with every knee graze, paper cut, stubbed toe and jarred finger.

If only he had a way of letting his stupid roommate know what an dick he was for not even trying to protect himself from harm. But with absolutely no way to figure out who or where his soulmate was, he couldn’t.

“Sup fuckers!” Jaren’s greeting to John was always one of a gentleman, slamming his hands down on the older boy’s shoulders and ignoring the glares he got from their peers for his volume. He sneered right back, always a classy asshole, before dancing around the side of the table and falling into the seat across from John.

He only laughed when Marcel through a fry at him, snarking out a short, “Do you ever speak in a normal voice?” He rolled his eyes at the shit-eating grin, nodding.

Craig flinched, hand falling to his stomach as he moaned in pain. Snickers scattered the table as he glared up at the roof. “Fucking dickhead,” he muttered.

“Who?” Jaren asked as the Brit flinched again.

Craig huffed a sigh. “My prick of a soulmate’s playing rugby,” he grumbled, carding his fingers through his hair and throwing a glare to the window of the cafeteria. He and Tyler had met two years ago, being the only ones in their friend group who had actually found their other halves.

“Want me to kick you to get him back?” Brian offered, grin broad at the idea of fucking with Tyler. Craig grunted before shaking his head and Brian’s face fell in disappointment.

John snickered, the idiocy of their friends one that never changed. He rolled his eyes, watching with interest as Jaren jumped to his feet. “Shit, I forgot I had a meeting. I’ll be right back-” Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, the boy had thrown his backpack over his shoulders and ran for the door.

He watched the boy go, ignoring the smack of pain that collided with his shoulder.

The feeling of dread that pooled in his stomach overloaded all of his senses as he sat at the back of his maths class. It hit him like a truck out of nowhere and the sound of his phone vibrating in his bag had him shuddering in worry. He retrieved it, opening it to see a message from Jaren.

Smit: im in the toilets. i ran from jake but i dont thinf ksdf

His heartbeat slammed against his ribs as that dread filled his body and he felt an invisible hand yank at his scalp. He stood, ignoring the look from his teacher. “I need the bathroom,” he uttered, running from the class and leaving his stuff.

The bad feeling grew with every heartbeat and he took off running down the hall. The sting of a hit across his face made him stagger as he went, the need to find Jaren one that he felt his soul bleeding for.

In the numbness of his brain, he feared for his best friend and his soulmate. He hoped he could at least help one of them.

The blunt force hit to his stomach sent him to his knees and he couldn’t help the trees springing to his eyes. “Jay,” he whimpered, knowing it was his boy who was being hurt this way. He knew, he knew. He had to help him.

When he rounded the corner and ran for the bathroom door, he pushed through the pain of a punch to his face, barreling into the door and sending it slamming into the wall behind him.

“Get the fuck off him,” he snarled, the anger in his voice foreign to him as he stood in the doorway and glared at the four boys within. One was his best friend, pushed to his knees with his head down. The other three stood around him, boys he didn’t know or care for the names of.

The obvious “leader” sneered at John, taking a step towards Jaren as one of the others grasped his hair and yanked his head back. John felt it. When the clenched fist was thrown, he felt the exact moment the punch landed at the underside of his jaw, as well as the strained pain at his neck from how the impact threw him back.

“Mother fucker,” he growled, striding forward and pulling his arm back. John wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t get into fights, he never had been a victim or a bully. But with the red coating over his vision, he had everything he needed to leave a few black eyes.

His punch landed, throwing the asshole back as he grasped at his nose. The flash of red had a grin crawling over John’s mouth, wishing to give more than just a blood nose to the asshole that hurt Jaren. It was no surprise that he was quickly overwhelmed by the two other boys, obvious rugby players by their muscles and build.

Then it was his turn for the real punches. He lost count of how many he took; one after the other as Jaren sobbed against the wall of the bathroom. John felt his heartache, wishing his realisation wasn’t true and hating that it was only confirmed.

Jaren was his soulmate and he was feeling every hit too.

John didn’t know how long it was before he was kicked to the ground and spat on. He didn’t move, exhausted and agonised as the three boys laughed to themselves and kicked the bathroom door shut behind them.

Hands on his face didn’t even feel real in the moment as Jaren’s voice slipped into his awareness. “John, John- Stay with me, okay? You’re okay-” The sob that broke through his words was more painful than any of the punches he took and he lifted his hand to cover one of Jaren’s.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, voice gruff as he slowly heaved himself up off the ground to sit against the wall. Jaren followed, concern in those pretty brown eyes despite the fact that he’d received the exact same beating. He looked at a loss for words, hands still either side of John’s face as the older boy managed a smile. “So, you’re the clumsy idiot I’m supposed to fall in love with.”

The tears rolling down Jaren’s face didn’t stop the weak smile from cracking as he let out a little laugh, letting his forehead rest against John’s. John brushed his thumb over the boy’s cheekbone, catching the tears and wiping them away.

“I didn’t know it was you,” Jaren admitted, his voice no louder than a whisper. “I was already in love with you and I didn’t know it was you. You... saved me.”

“I love you too,” John said, leaning forward to press his lips to Jaren’s bruising cheekbone. “I’m sorry I let them hurt you.”

Jaren shook his head, eyes squeezing shut to push the tears from his eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re okay. I love you.” The words were brushed barely against John’s lips but that wasn’t enough.

Without a care for the bell ringing through the corridors to signal the end of school, he pushed forward and sealed a kiss, a real kiss, to his soulmate’s lips.

#alliedoesnt #krii7y #fic #fanfic #banana bus squad #bbs #soulmate au #prompt #dabbles

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curlyshepards · 5 years

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Look, Pony and Curly have a day, where they have a little mini picnic at Pony's favorite spot to watch a sunset, and then after a while Curly just leans on Pony as Pony starts reading. And at certain points of the book he'll stop Pony and just ask random little questions.

I don’t ship purly but this was super cute and inspired me except I tweaked it a lil bc im a hoe for angst!!!! still, thank you for giving me inspiration after my mental dry spell and I hope you like it regardless!! (also idk if read more will appear for mobile users who follow me so if it doesn’t, I apologize)

It was always the same, this time of year. Never any easierand yet not all the way as bad.

Three years and the brink of winter, the last of autumnshowcasing the ground around them, almost but not-quite-there-yet dead leavescrunching underneath their sprawled bodies. It was only pushing six, but thesun was already beginning to set, casting an orange glow across Ponyboy’s face.

Puberty had hit the kid hard sometime in the middle of highschool. It was almost an overnight change—to Curly, at least. One day he was theCurtis baby, all doe-eyed and lost and vulnerable and helpless after the lossof his best friend and the seemingly never-ending court case. It was unnatural to seetheir kind go before a judge and leave still a free man. Tim had sworn they’dfind something to pin on the kid, yet he walked out innocent. A fuckin’defiance of nature. But then he was Curtis, baby, and his lips were attached tothe junction of Curly’s neck outside of Jay’s diner, where damn near anyonecould see them and hand them their asses. His long fingers gripped his curls,tugged, grinned at the older boy’s startled groan and Curly thought yeah, fuckthat judge, ain’t nothing innocent about this kid.

Ponyboy lets out a content sigh as Curly rests his head onhis lap. Both boys lay on their backs, basking in the last of the sun beforethe nightly breeze set in and Curly would have to fight his boyfriend for hisleather jacket—that was currently serving as Ponyboy’s makeshift pillow—back. Fornow, he was comfortable enough to watch the steady rise and fall of his chestand pretend that things were okay.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Pony mumbles, absentmindedly twirlinghis fingers through Curly’s hair. His voice cracks, all raspy and tired fromthe near hour-long silence that had stretched between them. He never had beenmuch of a talker, that was Curly’s role, but with the changing seasons broughtan even quieter version of himself, more introspective than anything. The firsttime, Curly had tried to get in his mind, tried to get him to talk, tried tofind answers in Darry. But this was Ponyboy and what he didn’t want to give,Curly wouldn’t take. It was better that way. Still, Curly hated that annualwedge being driven between him and his boyfriend.

Curly sighs quietly and reaches up, finding the fingers inhis hair and pulling them away, tangling them together on Pony’s thigh. “Thanksfor letting me.”

Thanks for not pushing me away this time. Thanks for includingme. Thanks for letting me see this side of you. Curly sneers. For better or forworse, right? His words had enough of an edge that they forced a flinch out ofPonyboy. Curly’s eyes are closed, but he can feel his boyfriend retract intohimself and he sighs. “I know it ain’t easy, baby.” Then again, nothing isthese days.

“Just miss ‘im.” Ponyboy gets defensive, like Curly will ripinto the memory of Johnny Cade the moment he gets his hands on it. “Wouldaturned nineteen this year.”

“I know.” And God, does he know. I know you miss him. I know youwere best friends, that he understood you in a way no one else did, was therefor you in a way no one else could have been. I know his death changed you,that the one person who kept you soft was taken away. I know that you lovedhim. Just fucking admit it, it’s killing me inside.

Curly wills the confession like a prayer. But just like God,Ponyboy isn’t listening.

“Nineteen.” He repeats. “Sometimes I forget he was just akid.”

Kid was a loose term. The guys on their side of the trackshad been forced into maturity a little too early. Legally, yeah, they were justkids back then, but Curly couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt like one.

Curly almost swears, because he’s never been one for heartto hearts and this is foreign territory. But then this was his boyfriend, the boy who’d been on his ass aboutcommunicating and trust and then turns around a few months later just to shuthim the hell out, forcing him into the endless tug-of-war between what he should do and what he wants to do.

“When—” He stops what he should be doing, because he doesn’t know if this is theroute he wants to take, if this will effectively drive his point, if it’s evenworth it anymore. Maybe they could makeout instead, he could just get Ponyboy’smind off of things. The area he’d brought Curly to was secluded enough thatthey hadn’t seen a single living thing since they’d gotten there—unless youcount the bear that Curly swears he saw through the trees, but he won’t bringthat up again unless he wants to start another fight.

Fuck it, he decides, Ponyboy needs to hear this.

“When Dallas died, Tim came to see me out in reform school.Knew it was bad the minute I saw him, he never just visits, you know? There’salways something. But, anyway, wanna know what he said?” Curly opens his eyes to lookat his boyfriend, just to find those green eyes already staring back at him. Soopen and so easy to get lost in. He loses his train of thought and decides tobacktrack, swallowing thickly.

“I was a mess, don’ know why I took it so hard, but I did.Tim did, too, I could see it, but he wouldn’t talk about it. And I said, ‘Whatthe hell do we do now?’ and he gives me that look, you know, like I was anidiot for even asking.” Curly takes another breath. “He said we keep going,because what the hell else can we do? But I don’t think that means we gottamove on, baby, we just gotta keep living for the ones that didn’t.”

He stops there, for good this time, because if he says one more word he mightthrow up, and he thinks if his brother ever heard the goddamn speech that justcame out of his mouth, he’d be sent home with a black eye.

Ponyboy isn’t Tim, though. He’s a far fucking stretch, andinstead of decking him in the face he rubs his thumb along the back of hishand, fingers tightening almost instinctively.

“Tim’s got a way with words.” Pony smirks.

Curly shrugs, “There when you need him to be.”

If Pony disagrees, he doesn’t say it. Instead he leans overto dig in his backpack, pulling out that infamous copy of Gone with the Wind,the one he always carried around with him this time of year, like a bad habithe just can’t break. Its’ pages are crumpled, corners folded and chapters marked.

The book dangles lazily from his hand, pointer finger tuckedalmost possessively between the pages and running along the note written inside.Curly had read it enough times that he could picture the nurse’s mercilessscribble. A dead kid’s soliloquy.

If it had been Curly up in that hospital bed, skin blisteredto hell, he doubts he would have wasted some of his last breaths on a note likethat. He’d focus on the important things, not making sure Dallas Winston wouldwatch a sunset in honor of his death. He didn’t understand the depths of it, probablynever would, but he racked that up to just being Ponyboy and Johnny.

“Johnny let me read this to him back in Windrixville.” There’sa small smile on Pony’s face. His eyes, though, are distant, filled withexhaustion that seems too heavy for a seventeen-year-old. “Knew it was one ofmy favorites, and it helped pass the time. Sometimes I’d try to get him toread, but he didn’t like it real much, so it was usually me.”

Pony flips through the pages and Curly watches. He noticesthat the first half of the book is worse off than the other, like he’d never quitebeen able to get that far, always stopping before it’s supposed to be over. And people might call Curly an idiot, but the irony wasn’t lost on him.

He shifts so that his head is on Ponyboy’s stomach. Thesky is a soft orange by now, and it’ll be dark real soon, but he decides hewants one more thing before they leave.

“Read it to me.”

It’s not a question or a request, but Pony knows that if hedoesn’t want to then he doesn’t have to. And Curly thinks, even just for asecond, that he’d have every right to refuse. Instead Pony just tilts his headto the side, looking at the curly haired boy close his eyes. “You said booksain’t your thing.”

“They ain’t,” Curly replies, wishing his boyfriend wasn’tsuch a know-it-all. It’s a disease, he swears, but he smirks nonetheless andpeeks an eye open at Ponyboy, “But you are.”

Seconds pass and it’s quiet between them, long enough thatCurly starts doubting himself. Maybe he had stepped too far, maybe this was asentiment he’d do just fine staying out of, maybe he needs to learn thatwhatever it was between Ponyboy and Johnny, whether something was there or it’sall just his own jealousy, he needs to let go. Because he’s the one here, afterall. Picking up the pieces of a boy that Cade had left behind.

But then Ponyboy is smiling. It’s small and shy but it’sthere and every thought of Johnny flees his mind. Curly pushes himself up on anelbow and leans over, pressing his lips to Pony’s in a soft kiss. They part andtheir foreheads press together, the smile still on his boyfriend’s face as hegives a small nod.

“Yeah, okay.”

Curly grins in response, gives in to the urge of one morekiss before laying his head back down, settling himself in for the story.

They spend what little time of sunlight left reading, Pony’smelodic voice flowing through the air. Curly, for the most part, keeps quiet,only butting in when he doesn’t understand a word—The hell’s that mean?—or wantshim to repeat something simply because he likes the way it sounds coming out ofPonyboy’s mouth.

Neither of them speak after the reading stops, choosinginstead to lay there in silence through the better half of the night. It’s notCurly’s usual scene, but it’s something Ponyboy needs, and he reckons it reallycould be worse.

And, even if it’s for a brief second, he wonders if DallasWinston ever had someone to show him a sunset.

#mellow-child #ask #curly shepard #Ponyboy curtis #my writing

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