#the air there is so crisp ™ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

savnofilter · 10 months

Text

Text Me Back | Katsuki Bakugo

Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, sexting, sending nudes, crude jokes, mention of myspace™, p.o.v switches, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 4k words [15 mins].

READ MORE: masterlist + [student masterlist].

A/N: gosh i wish i couldve done more with this but... i'll figure it out later. may revamp or do a part 2 but it depends on how motivated. anyways, enjoy. 🥹 also i just realized that reader did nothing the whole day LMAOOOO so ignore that pls omg. thank you, anon!

As spring rolled around, the air had a certain chill to it.

It was a crisp scent with sharp edges, the smell of growing plants clinging onto the molecules within the vicinity. As a result of the coolness in your room, you probably should turn on the heater in your apartment. Usually, you wouldn't have to worry about doing it yourself, but due to maintenance delaying another day later to fix the issue, you now find yourself in an internal battle to get up out of your bed for your comfort.

Of course, you didn't hate the spring atmosphere. You liked it. The nostalgic and tender feel it gave your body and mind gave a fake sense of comfort that you desired. But you would desperately love it more if you could bask in such ideals while in the comfort of your lukewarm sheets, temperature heightened by the air of the room.

You groan in disdain at the fact you had to get out of your bed. You begrudgingly roll onto your side and feel around for your phone on your nightstand. Once finding your device you click the button on the side to partially unlock it to see what you have missed from being asleep. Of course, regular things like Twitter notifications were present, Snapchat, Instagram, MySpace, etc… until a message stuck out the most amid your roll call.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Light schedule today, museum date?

I know you will wake up late, so I'll decide for you. Pick-up is at 7 p.m.

[✓] Sent 8:42 A.M.

You immediately perk up at the notification, a goofy smile spreading onto your lips.

Bakugo has been your boyfriend for about three years now. You had originally met years prior when you both were in school. Him being an intern for superhero-ing and you were an intern for hands-on training within the superhero management world. You were a little shit and he was an even more of a little shit… and that's what made you two click. Even with his calloused way of showing his emotions, he had still been pretty evident about his feelings towards you when you two were merely friends. In the same way, you two could work and piss each other off to no end, there was a great sense of duality showcased by empathy, love, and compassion toward each other. When you needed someone or something, you could always count on your boyfriend, Katsuki.

You chewed the inside of your lip as your brain racked your head at the things you needed to do today. Today was Friday so you were sure you wouldn't have anything on your schedule. But because you tended to let things slip your head, you still had to double-check to make sure. You light up once again as you realize today was only a busy day for yourself—chores, errands, and minimum job-related things you could finish at home. Nothing dire; just adulting.

You

and what if I said no????

how'd y'know i'd wake up late lol

[✓] 13:01 P.M.

After quickly adjusting your noise settings from silent to vibrate, you bring your phone back down onto the nightstand and properly sit up to avoid your back from aching at an uncomfortable angle. You stretch in delight, arms brought over your head and your eyes shut exerting all of the drowsiness within you. You coil back into yourself once the cold air you had forgotten about hits your skin as a rude reminder. You glare at the thermostat before swiftly throwing your covers off and trudge your way to the small dial and fix the dilemma yourself.

While fiddling with the switch, you hear your buzz behind you. Your brows scrunch in frustration as you can feel yourself start to get agitated at how it's acting, finally getting the stupid little compartment to work before walking off. You nearly trip on your way back to bed in an effort to get back to the warmth of your bed.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You always wake up in the evening, dumbass.

& you have a free schedule today.

[✓] Sent 13:08 P.M.

You scoff.

Your chat bubbles float up on the screen on his end as you try to think of something more annoying to combat him with. You fall short.

You

Damn.

[✓] Sent 13:11 P.M.

You think to yourself before pausing and sending another text.

You

shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me

a kid is probably drowning rn bc Lord Explosion Murder Dynamight is sexting his girlfriend instead of doing his job.

did you change your name to your hero name AGAIN???

[✓] Sent 13:15 P.M.

If loving this kind of banter was something that you enjoyed, may the devil take you away. You couldn't help the grin mischievously as you waited for his correspondence. You were practically on the edge of your bed waiting for his reply.

A few minutes go by and he hasn't replied. There's a pang of hurt following your spiraling thoughts. Who cared if a kid was really drowning-

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied to your text: shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me}

Is work in the room with us?

[✓] Sent 13:25 P.M.

You're almost quick to reply before seeing his speech bubbles pop up again, eyes watching in interest. You can't help but feel nervicited seeing it disappear and reappear, proud to have stunned him. What you didn't know is what he was fixing himself to say.

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied and highlighted: … Dynamight is SEXTING HIS GIRLFRIEND instead of doing his job.}

No pic, no proof

[✓] Sent 13:27 P.M.

You squint at your phone and pause. Did he just quote the way you talk AND send you a musty and memefied reply all in one go? You huff at his bravery, rolling your eyes but feeling a deep blush creep up on your cheeks. Your phone vibrates.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Don't tell me you folded that fast, babe.

[✓] Sent 13:31 P.M.

Oh, but you did. You weren't expecting him to fire back at you like this. Often when you made an innuendo of some sort he'd whine and brush it off as if he hasn't beaten your doonies down multiple times—sometimes all in one night. But you refused to let him win this. You need to think fast.

Again, the cool air caresses your exposed hand, the stroke of the uncomfortable chill making you hiss. You position yourself on your back where you can safely cover the backs of your hands as you held your phone. A few more minutes had passed than you had noticed, your screen growing dim as you were forced to look at your newly awakened and chilled state.

That's when it hit you.

No pic, no proof, right?

As you shiver feeling a stroke of air pass over again, a sign that the temperature in the room is actively changing, you look down at your chest. In your defense, they looked at you first. Your nipples are profoundly erect and poking at your shirt begging for attention. You purse your lips before looking back at your screen, contemplating your next moves. Sucking in a small breath you quickly awaken your phone and swipe your screen over to take a photo of yourself.

You angle the electronic to show your chest, your other hand dragging up some of your shirt to show little skin of your stomach. Your nipples were still very much the prominent part of the image. After realistically struggling a bit, you snap the picture and quickly hum in surprise at how good it is. If you were in any other state than your current one, you would've retaken it but you couldn't feel yourself to care knowing he's an ass anyway.

You decide to say something after the image as you bring up the chat and send in the picture.

You

(IMAGE)

is this proof?

[✓] Sent 13:40 P.M.

After setting your phone down and interlocking your fingers together, you stare up at the sky: now that you think about it, what possessed you to send such a scandalous picture all of a sudden? The hormone monster? When was the last time you sent him a proper nude? You rub your face and groan as you now really think about it.

No matter how many times you have sent spicy images, it was the mock post nut clarity after sending it off. Debating if the pic was good enough or hoping that it somehow didn't change sender at the last second. The vulnerable feeling starts to claw its way into your body… and yet you refuse to let it get to you. Just like how everything with Bakugo is, all the nervous feelings always filled you with excitement. You couldn't wait to see his response because you knew damn well he was your munch.

You hear your phone buzz once before turning your head to see it fade to black again. Deciding to not look at it straight away, you get up for the second time today. Fortunately, your room was starting to warm up which meant it was the perfect time to start your day (yes, nearing the second hour of the evening). Your phone buzzes again and you choose to ignore it.

Running through your routine is clockwork. Use the bathroom, brush your teeth, shower, facial, and the last part you hadn't reached yet was to get dressed. You had honestly forgotten about teasing your long-term boyfriend as you freshened up for the day. Typically, you did this as a way to relieve stress and rejuvenate yourself. You hum as you lotion up yourself, welcoming back the feelings of giddiness back to your body. There was no need to rush this; it was almost as though the teasing was for your enjoyment more than his. Again you wrap yourself in your robe and finally sit on your bed to go on your phone. His message reads:

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳Loved your message.

Fuck.

Is this how we're playing today?

[✓] Sent 13:41 P.M.

You bite the inside of your lip before a smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type up a reply.

You

you don't want more? okay… ;( 💔

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

He immediately opens your message and his speech bubbles become afloat.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You know damn well that's not what I meant, brat.

Another form of confirmation would be suitable.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

There's a pause before he sends his next text.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Please.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

You

I guess you can since you asked nicely…

[✓] Sent 14:41

He was a good boy you had to admit. When he wanted you, he certainly knew how to play the rules until he could be on top. You admired that about him.

You slightly turn your head to the mirror of your bed. You were currently out of sight in the reflection but had an idea of how you could use it. You scooch up to the edge of your bed, sitting with your legs on each side of the corner closest to the body mirror. Before you could even think about sending off a photo you pull your hair back and neaten it up whether it was with a bonnet or messy bun. Regardless you knew he wouldn't give a fuck but this surge in arousal made you want to look sexy in your most natural state. Skin glowing and thriving, you felt like a goddess.

Blessed that the room is warm enough for you to be naked, you partially undress; eyes watch your irresistible figure come to reveal itself. Of course, even with how much you loved yourself, you couldn't show all of yourself just yet. You pull your robe open enough to expose your chest, a small huff of discontent leaving as the air hits your naked skin again. A hum leaves your chest as you admire yourself a bit more, before positioning the camera in a way to show off your chest. You knew this would drive him insane. After a few awkward angles and shots, you deemed your favorite one and opened back up the messages app once again.

You waste no time uploading the pictures but grow a bit hesitant as you can’t help but feel nervous. You’d think after doing this with a trusted partner it’d be a breeze at this stage. You fidget on the edge of the bed as you type up, delete, then retype, decide to delete and then the process continues. ‘Why was this so hard?? Just send the damn pic!’ You sigh and type up your final draft, ready to send the first proper nude for the evening.

With a final decision, you decide to go with something simple.

You

how’s this?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 14:57

You immediately close out the app once you send it off and fall back onto your bed. There’s a giddy smile on your face as you could only imagine what his reaction would be to see the photo. That was the whole exciting thing about this: the teasing that transpires and the adrenaline rush you receive from it. You don’t bother to check if he’s seen it yet as you think it would be best to let your heart rest. Luckily, it’s not long before you need to wait as your phone buzzes beside you.

After a few moments of waiting you sit up on your side to look at the message, your eyes immediately going for Bakugo’s text. You freeze upon seeing two messages in the same format as yours, a regular text followed by a photo to compliment the exchange. You raise your eyebrows as you prop yourself up on your hand now, tapping his notification and swiping up to look at what he has sent you.

You softly gasp as you open the image, something you were not expecting but will gladly accept. “More than perfect.” You read aloud and scrolled further down to look at the whole image. You grin upon seeing a picture of him palming his hard-on through his pants. It appeared by his scenery and clothing that he truly wasn’t out on patrol today, instead probably filming content to build his likability with his fanbase. Not only that, he was in a dressing room, by himself. He had more than enough time to do what he pleases.

Bakugo was more than ready to up the ante and your slow correspondence was killing him. He knew that this was a frequent way that you liked to tease and play dirty with him. He had been up since 5 a.m. and he was basically waiting impatiently for you to wake up.

It had been about a week or so since you two have seen each other and he was missing you badly. Your dumb jokes, your antics, the “arguments” and especially your touch. Apparently, the pre-planned date for tonight was the type of outing you needed as well. Bakugo sucks his teeth as he starts to feel a blush arise on his cheeks as he can’t help but think about you. And you weren’t making it better with how willing you are to toy with him.

Now it was the blonde-haired male's turn to be nervous awaiting your reply. He watched in expectancy to see your response, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch in his dressing room to read your reply.

#1 Brat

not too bad yourself, honey~

[✓] Sent 15:21

Katsuki is quick to start typing again, pausing when he sees your chat bubbles pop up on his phone.

#1 Brat

mind sending another one more… revealing?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 15:23

He chuckles at your proposition. The laugh subsides as he takes in the new image, revealing more of your body in your lying down position practically mimicking the first photo you had sent for the day. The robe artfully covers but also shows your body and he can’t but groan as he longs to touch you. Your breasts, legs, and tummy are so fucking attractive to him. The fact that you have a pretty face tops it all off makes him feel as though he’s won the jackpot being in love with you. But there was one part that he was longing to see as well, the piece of heaven between your legs. The blonde-haired hero grunts as he starts to type up his message.

Bakugo 🤭💕

I could ask the same from you, beautiful.

[✓] Sent 15:26

You

ah-ah, you first!

[✓] Sent 15:27

“This…” Katsuki mumbles to himself but doesn’t stop from unbuckling his pants anyways. With how hard his length appeared in the earlier photo, it is no surprise at how confined it was pressing against his underwear. With a simple tug, he releases his cock from his briefs, a soft groan leaving his lips as he strokes his cock. The warmth of his hand certainly did not compare to yours at all.

He imagines your hot hands caressing every bit of his skin, your warm mouth that’s skilled with playing with his sweet spots, your plush thighs that wrap around his waist or squish his face. The way he could watch how your chest jiggle with each thrust, the way that your pussy never fails to take him in like it was made for him. Everything about you was cursing him and he needed you badly.

Bakugo tilts his head back against the top of the couch as he starts to speed up his thrusts, now fully getting into the thought of what he’d do to you if you were right next to him right now. How he could easily pick you up and pin you onto the couch as he pounds into you like no tomorrow, not giving a fuck if your moans were too loud and anyone passing by could hear the lewd noises coming from within the room. The way he could watch your face contort into the most erotic expressions all because of him, his touch, his mouth, and his dick most importantly. The moment his hips buck to meet his own stroking hand makes him realize he had distracted himself from his main task.

He fumbles around for his phone before setting it up the way you like the most when watching his videos. The angle is perfectly angled to showcase his impressive length, not tew much balls but enough to show the goodies. He made sure to be vocal as well, letting the camera show his stroking and his thumb rubbing his tip every so often to increase the pleasure. A few times you could hear his soft grunts of your name or an exploitive to release the building-up tension from his masturbation session.

He breathes out as he speeds up his strokes. It seems as though with his jerking that he's getting closer and closer to his climax, the only thing clouding his mind is only you. He softly pants and starts to collect perspiration of sweat on his forehead as he works up to his orgasm. He clenches his jaw as he finally finishes and continues to stroke, showing how much cum he can milk from himself. He hums in mere satisfaction and ends the video to clean up. Unfortunately, that in itself did not rid himself of the boner; a new one was already starting to grow once again.

When he processes the video through the messaging app, there is no cheeky remark or commentary. He is officially worked up and cannot wait any longer.

Bzzz Bzzz

Your eyes widen as you finally get your reply back. You tilt your head in curiosity and feel your heart skip a beat. It is a video. Katsuki sent a fucking video. You bite your lower lip and open the message. There was no other text to accompany it but you already knew what you were in for.

Your breath hitches as the video is straight to the point. You watched his perfectly manicured and clean nails skillfully play with his cock, his large hand almost struggling to wrap around his own length. You hear a small moan and you quickly raise the volume, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that you can hear the erotic noises come from him.

Your hand immediately shoots down to untie your robe, slick already starting to increase and your clit pulsing. You shamelessly moan as your deft fingers stroke at your vulva, your mouth in the shape of an, “o” as you use your fluid to play with your bundle of nerves.

“Shit!” You close your eyes with the image of him stroking his cock deeply ingrained in your mind. The noises he made were enough for you to get off on your own. Your middle finger rubs heavy circles into your clit while your other hand busies itself playing with your nipple, the feeling making you lightly shiver. The sounds of his heavy breathing and the silkiness of his hand rubbing his shaft were driving you crazy, and soon enough your petting wasn’t doing the job. You opt for fingering yourself instead, huffing out a whimper as your fingers barely fill your cunt but make up for it by finding your g-spot at the roof of your pussy.

You weakly open your eyes to watch the screen, your breath growing short and light as you meet your fingering with Katsuki’s stroking hand. Another buzz from your phone makes you sit up a little. Your confused and dazed attention span manages to catch the notification that rolls at the top of the screen.

Bakugo 🤭💕 — 15:45

You better not be finishing yourself off without . . .

You groan in annoyance as you remember why you were even diddling yourself in the first place. You slow your strokes down to properly set up your phone, hastily trying to find a proper angle that shows off your body in its entirety (which wasn’t that hard to do as you were in your bed). You spread your legs for the camera and look into the front camera lens as you insert both fingers into your cunt once again. You tilt your head to the side as you look down at your fingers and work a third finger into yourself.

You moan out his name as you work your right hand's fingers into you, building up to the same pace that you had before with the extra digit inside. “Need you so bad, baby--” You groan, looking back up at the screen. Your left-hand comes up to play with your tits again, the robe that still adorned you slipping off your shoulder as you got closer to your climax.

You whimper, finishing off with your fingers, your eyes looking at your cunt taking in your fingers before glancing back at the camera in lust. You repeated, “fuck” as if in a mantra, your eyes closing and your hips bucking to ride yourself to release. You smile as you slowly take out your fingers, your slick sticking to your fingers and your cunt glistening in juices. Your cunt was puffy and warm with arousal pumping through it and it was clear that you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. You scoot a bit closer to show off your sticky fingers, spreading them for him. You hit stop recording with your clean hand after your finished, wasting no time uploading it into the messenger app.

You

of course not, only for you~

(VIDEO)

[✓] Sent 15:55

As soon as you send it in, a text from him follows. You hop up from your bed as you read, heading back to your bathroom to clean yourself up even though the inevitable would have you in the same state as before.

Bakugo 🤭💕

000-0000 Tokyo-to

Be here in 10 minutes.

[✓] Sent 15:56

Hopefully, your newly scheduled meeting won’t delay his filming.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo x reader #bnha oneshots #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha oneshots #mha imagines #mha scenarios #n/sfw #sav's saucin'

743 notes · View notes

pralinesims · 21 days

Text

// character associations

Tagged by @sertrallne @living-undead @salemsimss, thanks so much! <3

Gonna do this for... Emilio!

⊱ EMOTIONS/FEELINGS (Over)confidence, paranoia, fear, desperation, depression, guilt, mourning, head-over-heels in love, ambition, appreciation, enthusiasm, gratitude, courage

⊱ COLOURS Green (all shades), beige, bright red, dark fuchsia, muted blues

⊱ SCENTS Cedar, expensive aftershave, MFK Grand Soir perfume, disinfection, mint toothpaste, freshly mown grass, crisp summer morning air, after workout sweat, air freshener, eucalyptus

⊱ OBJECTS Sports cars, newspapers, hand cream tubes, massive chronographs, credit cards, signature cooking apron, family heirlooms, leather case journals, steak knives, heavy decanters, miniature pirate ships, large mirrors, toothpicks

⊱ BODY LANGUAGE Arms on hips, threatening stares, straight and proper posture, wide grin, tense shoulders, alcohol induced laughter, winking, very firm handshakes, intense eye contact, hands behind head

⊱ AESTHETICS Anything luxurious, casual athletic elegance, old money, sad beige core™, marble surfaces on things where it doesn't even make sense, candle-lit dinner parties, constant tidiness (never cluttered)

Tagging: everyone who is in mood to also do this~ feel free to do so and say that I've tagged you!

#this was so fun to do omg #tag game #my sims #oc facts #emilio

71 notes · View notes

catscidr · 1 month

Note

Hallo... can I get some fluff for akademiya dottore where he, fem!reader, and a couple others are on an expedition and eventually dottore finds himself falling for reader cuz they share like all the same interests... 😊 eventually he confesses to reader and reader accepts happily. smiles :)

i. note — if akademiya dottore has ten lovers, i am one of them. if akademiya dottore has one lover, that's me. if akademiya dottore has zero lovers, i am dead. (๑•̀ㅂ•́)ง✧ also i meant to finish this like a week ago but shit happened n then i was bleeding in yamcha pose™ in my bed........ My Apologies ii. includes — akademiya era dottore (zandik), fem!reader and a very special friend :) iii. warnings — nothing but friendly banter and tooth rotting fluff amen. also not proofread we die like [redacted] iv. wc — 3,2k -> also on ao3 if u prefer to read fics there

You wish you had slammed your door shut the second you saw who was on the other side earlier today. Instead of having a relaxing, free day, you were out on a hike with people whom you were acquainted with at best and with one of the biggest enigmas in the Akademiya, Zandik. If it wasn’t for your curiosity and deep yearning for an answer as to why he sought you out specifically to go out on an expedition, you wouldn’t have accepted— but alas. Here you were, sweating your body mass away in the humid, sticky weather of Sumeru.

The group only got to the other side of the bridge leading out of the city, right after passing through an old tree trunk serving as a makeshift overpass, when you had to take a break. It wasn’t your fault you weren’t used to walking for long periods of time; being a Rtawahist student meant you didn’t need to go outside of the city as much as other darshans. You weren’t the only one that held that sentiment though, so you all (thankfully) took a brief moment of respite before heading on.

You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t enjoy the scenery at least a little bit. Even though your arm was starting to get sore from shielding your eyes from the bright sun, the flora almost made it worth it. The air felt crisp on your skin and in your lungs, the distant sound of a flowing waterfall was washing away the tension in your shoulders, and you started to think that maybe you should spend more time outside. Watching the water near the mystic domain in the area of Chatrakam Cave, you start to ponder if it would be worth it to go for a dip to cool off while everyone else discusses where to go next...

“Hey.”

An impatient voice rips a yelp out of you, pulling you right out of your daydreams. Minty hair obscures the sun, giving your arm a much-appreciated break from shielding your eyes. “We have places to be, you know. Are you ready to go or do I have to leave you out here for eremites to rob you?”

Blinking away the initial shock, you scoff at your schoolmate’s bluntness and drag yourself up to your feet. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends,” you huff under your breath, patting away any dirt that had stuck to your uniform. Zandik rolls his eyes and frowns, sharp canines looking more akin to a puppy’s maw than a shark’s. “I don’t wonder why I don’t have any friends, mind you. I already know why I don’t have any,” he retorts, turning away from you to walk away. You grumble ‘sure you do’ quietly under your breath before catching up to him, glancing at the others in your group. “Guys, wait for us!”

You watch them begin to walk along the left side of the intersection and go to follow them before the aforementioned boy grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to follow me. Or did you forget who invited you in the first place?” Yeesh, talk about a short fuse. Being (mostly) used to his sharp remarks, you manage to push down the urge to bite the bait he had laid out for you. “I mean, it’s not like you told me where we would be going or why I’m here. Besides, aren’t we supposed to stay grouped up? Professors have always warned us about Rishboland Tigers roaming outside the-” Zandik cut you off by tugging you towards him, away from the group of students.

“The stuff I need is over this way,” he said quietly. Irritation seeped through his pores, though for what reason you didn’t know. Wriggling your wrist out of his (lax) grip, you pick up your pace just enough to catch up to his long legs. The cliff to your left provided some nice shade, but the more he led the way the more he picked up the pace. You didn’t even have time to ask about your schoolmates— though it seemed like they were fine with you two splitting up from the group, anyways.

“Stop going so fast! Hey- what's up with you all of the sudden?!”

You place a hand on his shoulder in a poor attempt to stop his run for answers. Zandik shushes you with a harsh glare and his index to his mouth, earning himself a baffled expression from you. “What is your problem today?” you hiss, voice quieter than before. Too busy glaring holes into the back of his head, you fail to see the focused and starry eyes your friend had as he looked ahead. He stops walking abruptly, making you bump into him with an elegant ow fuck! Your face had met his nape, minty hair tickling your forehead as you step back to rub the ache away from your nose.

“I don’t feel like playing charades, Zandik. Seriously, what’s up with y-” he hushes you with a hand motion, frustration boiling in your gut. Ready to give him a piece of your mind, you step to the side to stand next to him; what you didn’t expect to see a few feet in front of him were sentient mushrooms— fungi, hopping and playing around a cluster of ores.

“...they look like matsutake,” you whisper, glancing at Zandik to catch a glimpse of his face. He crouches down and you follow suit, silently observing the fungi alongside him. There were three in total; they all seemed to be standing still, occasionally... wriggling in place, a dim green light emanating from their thick stems. “Are they feeding on the iron?” you murmur, dumbfounded. Since when did mushrooms eat rocks?

“They’re absorbing nutrients from the ground. It just so happens that there are an abundance of it around ore clusters,” Zandik explained, the lack of condescension in his tone puzzling you. “How do you know that? You’re not an Amurta student.” Though you couldn’t deny that seeing the fungi in their natural habitat was captivating, even if they were still just living mushrooms.

The boy exhales sharply, “I don’t care for the fungi themselves. It’s because—” leaves rustle, making him pause his sentence to look around, checking if anyone was listening. When the coast is clear he continues, “they’re... related to ley lines.” You peel your gaze away from the sentient vegetables to look at your friend with a look that clearly displayed your confusion. As the cogs turned in your brain though, you start to piece things together and come up to your own hypothesis about his claim.

“That makes... sense. They’re part of the forest, so it would make sense if they were extensions of ley lines since they’re kind of like roots...” you mutter your train of thoughts out loud, grabbing a stray stick to draw on the ground. Your sketch was... lackluster, but it got the point across. “Trees are rooted to the ground, and mushrooms grow on trees or around them—” you point at the messy “drawing” of a fungi you just made, “but if they gain some elemental energy from nearby ley lines, then they’ll become sentient!”

As you exclaim your new discovery, your eyes meet Zandik’s carmine ones— and your face flushes once you realize he had been staring at you this whole time. A choked noise of surprise rips itself out of your throat, the noise startling the fungi nearby, making them scurry away further along the dirt path. He smacks your head, “I told you to be quiet!”

You don’t have time to protest because a horde of fungi run up to you— so many of them that you couldn’t even take the time to count. A string of curses fly out of Zandik’s mouth, and as he scrambles to get up, he grabs your wrist, pulling you up to your feet to run. “They look harmless, but they can seriously injure you if they’re in a group— book it!” he shouts, jumping up on a moss-covered rock, climbing up on the hill going around the path blocked off by the fungi. He helps you up quickly and you both make a dash for it, in the hopes that they’ll stop coming after you.

You’re grateful that the sun had started to set before you and Zandik got ambushed, at the very least. The sky had turned a beautiful shade of indigo, orange and pink dotting the horizon and the clouds above. Without the sun sapping away at your energy you were able to get away scot-free and enjoy a breathtaking sunset; you hadn’t even noticed that Zandik was leading you somewhere, too engrossed in the familiar sight of the sky you had gazed into so many times.

“Look over there,” he places a hand on your shoulder to grab your attention and you look as he points to a small group of fungi. Their shape looked more like drills than mushrooms, and they definitely lacked the “natural” camouflage that their other skin had, since they were white and periwinkle, and not dirt brown. A quiet woah leaves you as you look at them, brain working overtime once again. Zandik walks with you, slowly, away from the fungi before you can get attacked again.

You begin to ramble about your theories to Zandik when you’re both far enough from the living vegetables, making grand, expressive gestures with your hands to emphasize your thoughts. The sound of your shoes crunching the grass beneath your feet, crickets chirping and the gentle evening breeze rustling the verdure around sound distant compared to the sound of your voice enthusiastically talking about the creatures you encountered. He absentmindedly scolds himself, wishing he had dragged you out of your dorm room earlier.

“Nara Zandik!” a voice says from behind him.

“Fucking Archons-” his head whips around to gawk at the culprit; a small, cyan colored mushroom creature. Completely oblivious to the newcomer, you halt your steps to look at Zandik’s mortified expression. “Why’d you stop?”

The boy’s attention is torn between you and Ararycan, head spinning. Based on your reaction (or lack thereof), you couldn’t see it; which brought up the question. Should he tell you the truth— that there’s currently a “friendly” sentient mushroom right beside you, or should he lie through his teeth and say-

“N-Nothing. Just keep going, I’ll catch up. I have, uh... a stomachache.”

Zandik has never been a good liar, but deciding to spare him the embarrassment, you nod. “Alright. Shout if you need me!” You walk off, looking over the hill to admire the large trees below, more akin to giant lotus plant leaves than actual trees. Your form retreats far enough that Zandik’s sure you won’t hear him if he whispers.

He looks down at the aranara, panicked red eyes meeting oblivious, beady black orbs and a smile that never faltered. “Why did you show up now?” Ararycan dismissed the harsh tone in which the boy spoke (or didn’t understand it); it didn’t care either way. The creature brimmed with optimism. “Nara Zandik should say what’s on his mind!” it says, little arms waving up and down. “The forest is happy, iron chunks are asleep, and the sky is bright! Why is Nara Zandik scared?”

His brows furrow, lips curling into a pout as he murmurs, “I’m not scared.” The aranara blinks at him, still smiling- waiting. “I’m not,” he repeats, “it’s just... argh, what do I do? Why is my head so...” “Fuzzy?” Ararycan finishes, tilting its bulbous head to the side, the leaves on its head flopping over. Zandik grumbles, hands coming up to cover his face

“Is the strange Nara nice?” it asks curiously, turning to look at your figure sitting on the hill a few meters away. You lean over carefully, observing the signs of life below; lanterns made from sticks and leaves, dirt paths separating in a multitude of directions and a small, round house with large leaves serving as a roof. Why you had never seen anything like this was a mystery to you, but you figured you’d just pester Zandik about it later since he was the one to bring you here.

Zandik looks back down at his friend, his expression having softened from just a few moments ago. “Yeah. That’s why I’m being... stupid. What do I say?”

Ararycan uses its tiny legs to turn back to look at the flustered boy, black eyes focused on scanning his face. “Talk to her about the sky!” it finally says enthusiastically, walking away before the boy can get a word in. “Hey-!” Little noises echo in the same rhythm as its footsteps, but right as Zandik turns around to ask something, the creature jumps up and disappears into the ground. A frustrated groan leaves Zandik’s gritted teeth, having resigned himself to the “advice” the aranara gave him.

You hear light footsteps behind you, drowning out the noise of your thoughts as you look back to see Zandik grimacing at you. Or not— his eyes weren’t focused on you, but you happened to be in his line of sight, which made it look like he was judging you heavily. Giggling at him, you pat the grass next to you and shuffle away to give him some space.

“Feeling better?” He remembers the excuse he gave you and cringes internally as he sits down, body stiff and awkward. “Yeah. Sure. Listen, uh...” Zandik trails off, losing his words. He sheepishly fiddles with the scarf draped over his shoulders, ears reddening the longer he stalls. You nudge his side with your elbow, “Did your stomachache affect your cognitive functions or something?”

The comment slides off of him as if it were water and he was made up of extra virgin olive oil. What did Ararycan say? Talk about the sky...

“Hey, can’t you see the stars clearly from here?” he manages to say, glancing up to look at the streaks of white in the welkin. You follow suit, mouth agape when you realize that you can, and the sky is so clear that you can see smudges of different colors in the sky. The navy backdrop was covered in soft shades of purple and blue, stars glistening so softly it was as if someone had gently and strategically placed them there.

“Woah...” you whisper, your eyes sparkling just as brightly as the constellations. You point out the ones you recognize, eager to talk about your field of expertise. "This one right there is called Leptailurus Cervarius, it looks like a cat!” He leans over to look at where you pointed at and there it was, a small cluster of six stars. He couldn’t say that he saw the cat you spoke of, but he didn’t want to bum you out either.

“It looks like it’s jumping,” he mutters. You turn to face him with a smile on your face, one that rivaled the brightness of the stars above your heads. He thought his heart would jump out of his chest and into your lap— but even then, he didn’t particularly mind if it did. “It is!” You nod quickly, pointing out more constellations with names he wasn’t even sure he would remember the next day. But he wanted to know more, to listen to you talk about the galaxy so much that he could be a Rtawahist student, too.

You soon begin to grow drowsy, having spent most of your energy talking Zandik’s ear off (not to mention the sprint from earlier). As you wobble, struggling to hold yourself up, Zandik gently takes ahold of your head and places it on his shoulder. The fabric of his uniform felt comfortable, earning him a small smile from you. His mind drifts away for a moment— his heart clenched in his chest as he thought back to all the time he spent with you.

From your roaring arguments about trivial matters to info dumping on each other, Zandik couldn’t help but wish you’d make more memories with him. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t like picturing someone else leaning their shoulder for you to doze off on. If he could be your pillow forever, he would take up the job in a heartbeat.

...What?

You jolt awake, surprised by Zandik’s sudden movement. He straightened his back, clearing his throat awkwardly. Thankfully there were any creatures around, or else you two would have gotten mauled already.

“We should get back.” The suggestion draws a groan out of you as you stretch your arms over your head, flopping back onto the grass. It was slightly cold and soft enough to relax your limbs once again, sleep pawing at you desperately, “It’s nice here though.”

Zandik pushes away whatever indecent thought had begun to brew in his head from seeing you laid on your back next to him. He carefully grabs the hem of your skirt and brings it down to cover your legs as he speaks, “You’ll catch a cold. Come on, we have to go.”

You blow a raspberry at him, turning away. “Maybe you will but I won’t. I’m strong, I can easily fight off a measly cold,” and you flex an arm to prove your point. It doesn’t convince him in the slightest, and he pulls you up to your feet with him. You decide not to point out the way he struggled ever so slightly— he definitely wasn’t hiding any beefy muscles under his uniform.

“Okay fine we’re going,” you huff while dusting off your skirt, “but you owe me!”

“Owe you what? I’m not the bad guy here.”

“Uh... a drink. You’re paying for my caffeine next time we go out,” you say, and Zandik rolls his eyes. Very typical of an Akademiya student.

“Fine. It’s a date.”

You nod quickly, eager to get a tasty drink and to save a handful of mora the next time you go out. Of course it’s not like drinks were that expensive in Sumeru, but it feels nice to be treated every once in a while-

“A date?!”

Some birds fly away in fear from the sheer shock your voice carried out. You gape at Zandik, cheeks flushed brightly and eyes wide like saucers. “Yeah. A date,” he repeats nonchalantly, a stark contrast from the way he was acting just shy of an hour ago. Gone was the nervous wreck that was Zandik.

“If you don’t want a free drink, you can always refuse,” he teases, nudging you with his elbow in the same way you did with him when you were sitting on the hill overseeing the lotus leaf trees. You scoff, then shake your head, and scoff again in pure disbelief. You were stunned; dumbfounded, even. But the idea of a date didn’t sound as unappealing as you made it out to be.

You glance away from him and mumble your answer. “What was that? I didn’t hear y-”

“Fine, it’s a date!”

He looks at you with a boyish grin, making your heart skip a beat. Was he always this handsome? The moonlight made his hair look ethereal, glowing almost pure white where the light shone directly on it. And his eyes— they looked irresistible. Crimson red orbs appearing to have more of a pink hue to them, though you weren’t sure if that was just your imagination.

Zandik grabs ahold of your hand and matches his steps with yours as you make your way down the hill, back to where you found the familiar dirt path you had walked on when the sun still shone brightly in the sky. As you get closer to flat ground you notice a small horde of mushroom-shaped... mushrooms, and get hit by a wave of déjà-vu. Although asleep, the fungi were blocking the path back.

“...How are we supposed to get back?”

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#my laptop went in sleep mode twice while i was writing this #bc i was writing on my bed and had genshin open #to get the location right and also the mobs right #but its fine idc if it overheats anything for babygirl dottie #i really need to do my dailies now my resin's been capped for like two hours #c ya #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x afab reader #dottore fluff #genshin impact fluff

136 notes · View notes

the---hermit · 7 months

Text

Walking through the woods to go at my gradma's this morning made me feel a bit like litte red green riding hood, and I have not yet decided if it's a positive or negative thing.

27|09|2023

Today I changed my routine a little bit, after having breakfast and reading as usual I took a walk to get to my grandma's place to study there. I knew there would be workers at my place for the whole day, and I needed a quiet place to focus. I ended up studying on the kitchen counter instead of the table because it's a bit taller so I knew it would be better for my back. Overall it was super quiet and I felt very productive eve though the wifi wasn't at its best. I ended up taking the afternoon off, since I worked so well in the morning and also because tomorrow will be a energy draining day. Taking a walk that early felt actually really good, the air was crisp™ and overall it felt like a really good autumn day. My afternoon was filled by tea, books and crocheting, so I couldn't wish for a better way to recharge .

Cozy hobbit autumn activities and productivity:

Read first thing in the morning

Took a walk early in the morning (I really have to work back into my routine short daily walks)

Worked on a very long but very interesting recorded lecture of my power practices class (it was about a trial of faked supernatural powers and abuse in a monastery in the early 1800s, it was one of the most out of mind things I have ever learned about, it felt more like a novel than an actual real life historical happening)

Daily Irish practice on duolingo (also when will duolingo stop making updates and moving my around levels every fucking time I open that app I get more confused and I kust want to learn uuugh)

Worked on my crochet project (I am still working on the first sleeve of the cardigan and I have to make so many mushrooms too, this project is exciting but it will take so much time to be done)

Podcasts, books and audiobooks

📖: The Book Of Lost Things by John Connolly (I love this book so much, the vibes are perfect and it's putting me in the best autumn mood ever) The Burning God by R.F. Kuang (I think I only have five or six chapters to go? Plus the final short stories from Nezha pov, which I just found out about while looking how much on the book I still have to read)

#studyblr #studyinspo #uniblr #univeristy #student life #studying #journal #notebook #journaling #productivity #bookblr #cozy hobbit autumn #knife gang #mine #the---hermit

115 notes · View notes

eskawrites · 1 year

Text

okay i’m officially obsessed with robin’s high school band experience (i say officially, i’ve been thinking about this for a while and now i’m finally caving and writing about it), so here are my Robin Buckley Band Geek(TM) headcanons for you to enjoy or ignore at your leisure

Robin is actually surprisingly into basketball. did you see her at that game? yeah, she’s there to shred the melody line on 25 or 6 to 4, but she’s also here cheer on/laugh at the Hawkins High team

you bet your ass she has had a crush on like half the girls’ basketball team btw

some of her first jabs at Steve were actually about some of his worst moments on the court. until she saw that those actually hit kind of hard, and then she laid off and started mocking his inability to talk to girls instead

once she and steve become friends, he’s actually surprised when she can keep up with his and lucas’s basketball chats. they ask her to practice with them exactly once, and it goes as terribly as you’d expect. but she still hangs out sometimes and gives lucas pointers when steve isn’t there

her favorite pep band song is Sweet Caroline. it just is.

sweeeet carolliiiiiiine. dun dun DUNNNNNNN

she is not supposed to be standing next to Vickie during Lucas’s game (seriously what even are their lines?? trombone trumpet clarinet? a random baritone row behind them? @ hawkins pep band wtf is going on here)

but she’s a senior and she can do what she wants

Vickie lets her, which is very cute imo

she has a vendetta with the percussion line

this is band kid law. you have to have a vendetta with either the percussion line or the trumpet section, and since she plays trumpet, she only has one option

she’s actually not bad at marching band. she has the discipline, she can think on her feet, she can focus on her steps and the angle of her trumpet and the set list and everything all at once with no issue. it takes her a while to stop stumbling over her feet freshman year, but once she has the fundamentals down, she’s absolutely fine

she took a french horn solo to state contest her junior year and actually ranked pretty high. but between the stress and the ptsd, she just didn’t have the motivation to do it again her senior year

it’s just as well. contest would’ve been after the events of spring break, and even if hawkins high had the resources to send a group of band and choir kids to contest after the “earthquake,” she definitely would’ve backed out

speaking of spring break, the first time she tries to play trumpet again after facing vecna hurts. that’s a lot of air to get through a throat that’s been nearly crushed by upside down vines. she fakes a lot of her playing for a few weeks, and by the time graduation rolls around, she’s mostly just going through the motions

it’s another thing the upside down has taken from her, and it makes her livid

Nancy absolutely understands why Robin is pulling away from band, but sometimes she thinks back on her vague memories of Robin in the bleachers--the crisp jacket, the clean white gloves, the sharp angle of her shoulders as she snaps her horn to attention--and she wishes she’d paid more attention to her back then

Will joins band his sophomore year! he wants to try something that’s just for him. he asks Robin for advice and she tells him how to get on the director’s good side as well as which kids to avoid. she also tells him that if he joins percussion she’ll never forgive him.

i think he’d play sax personally--lots of melody, great for solos, but also not the center of attention and really good at blending in

Robin finds herself going to a lot of hawkins high games during her gap year, which is completely unexpected but also a lot of fun. she and Steve sit in the stands and cheer Will and Lucas on in equal measure

(Will being there for all of Lucas’s games, too <3 it’s what he deservessss)

Robin’s parents are broke and she never ever spends any of her money on herself, so she doesn’t actually own any of the instruments she’s played. which means after high school, she has no access to any of it even if she wanted to keep playing

Nancy, Steve, and all the kids pitch in to get her a really nice trumpet a couple years after high school. we’re talking King brand, silk-lined case, the works. she cherishes that thing like it’s the fucking crown jewels

if/when Robin goes to college, she won’t join band but she’ll befriend a lot of the band kids. they’ll find out she used to play a couple different brass instruments and encourage her to pick it up again, even if it’s just in her free time

she does, and she joins some small groups--not class related, just having fun and performing with her friends

(steve goes to every single performance, even if it’s not even a show or anything. he’s been known to sit in on practices and grin at her with the proudest, dorkiest look on his face)

(Nancy also goes to every performance she can. she surprises Robin once, flying in at the last minute to go to one of her concerts. she shows up with a bouquet of flowers and it takes all of Robin’s willpower not to fall to her knees and propose right there)

#robin buckley #band headcanons! we as a fandom should talk more about band geek robin buckley #and by that i mean i as an individual am prepared to keep talking about band geek robin buckley #also some crumbs for #ronance #writing things #band geek robin my beloved

161 notes · View notes

rubydubydoo122 · 12 days

Text

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason)

Jason woke up in a daze. There was shouting, and arguing, but he couldn’t really make out the words. Something about ‘ Why is this the first time I’m learning about Jason’s soul sucking swords??!!’ and ‘It’s in his files–’ and ‘Not the magic sword part, the part where he uses them and ALMOST DIES AGAIN!!’ and ‘Do I look like a magic expert to you, Dick?’ and ‘No, but you could’ve asked ANY of the handful of magicians–’

Jason stopped listening. Why are Dick and Bruce arguing? Must be about the Titans or something.

He felt a hand card through his hair.

Oh. That’s nice.

He fell back asleep.

The next time he woke up, there was the bone deep numbness that was so numb, it hurt. In his shoulders, his knees, his hips. His fingers felt stiff. His whole body was screaming.

Jason really hates that crowbar.

Slowly, he flexed each and every joint. Curling his fingers, curving his shoulders, bending his knees and shifting his hips until the screaming pain turned into a synchronized throb.

Sometimes, Jason really loathed being brought back to life.

He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t like laying on his back. It reminds him too much of waking up in a suit and tie. Inside of a box. Dark and cold, breathing in stale air–

He curled back onto his side.

That was better.

Jason realized Bruce and Dick were staring at him with that look . With how much they look at him like that, they should trademark it. Right along with Alfred’s I’m very disappointed in you look ™ and the Batglare ™. Though, Jason didn’t really know how to describe it. Kinda like a you’re still alive? Look.

It was too much work to read into whatever Bruce and Dick were thinking under their carefully crafted masks, and frankly, Jason was tired, so he closed his eyes.

But every single bone in his body was pulsing in pain to the beat of his heart.

A hand grabbed his, and traced tiny circles into the space between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be, For my unconquerable soul.

“In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance, My head is bloody, but unbowed.

“Beyond this place of wrath and tears, Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years, Finds and shall find me unafraid.

‘It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”

There was a weight on his chest that was shifting around, until he was face to face with…

Damian.

But something about him was making some very dim light bulbs in the back of his head turn on. Wait. Talia was there, right? He remembers seeing Talia. Were they at the League?

“ Little Prince–” he started in the League dialect.

“Are you really Jay-Akhi when he grows big?” And that completely threw Jason. Because Damian said it in English– and not in the crisp accent or tone Damian used to have when he was younger. Lowkey, it had a bit of Alley in it, which was really throwing Jason for a loop.

So… maybe they weren’t in the league. “Uh… I guess?” He sat up, “Not exactly… I’m not your Jason, but I’m kinda like him.”

Damian grinned– aww, now that was just adorable– he was missing his two front teeth, “That’s mir-macu- wacu-louis. Now I have three Akhis!” then he gasped, “No, four!”

Jason chuckled, “Miraculous.” Damian couldn’t be more than, what? Five? Six? “Alrighty kiddo, is there a reason you woke me up? Cus I’m pretty sure I need my beauty sleep in all universes.”

“Um…” Damian put a finger to his chin and looked up, and then leaned in close, speaking in a stage whisper, “My reason was Cookies.”

“Do you mean you want to make ‘em or eat ‘em?” Jason raised an eyebrow conspiratorially, “Or do you need help stealing ‘em? ‘Cus, I dunno about you, but I may know a thing or two about that.”

Damian spread his arms out wide, and wrapped them around Jason’s neck, “I wanna make ‘em, steal ‘em, then eat ‘em. Like the Cookie Monster!”

There were footsteps racing down the hall, “Habiiiiiibat!” Damian immediately perked up, and looked to the door, “Damian?” Jay peaked his head through the door, and then seemed to realize Jason was awake and straightened up, “Oh. uh, Hi! I’m sorry if he woke you up.” Damian immediately ran to Jay and jumped into his arms.

Jason laughed at the sight. Dick is probably going to melt once he sees the pair. “Trust me, I’m used to it. He comes to my apartment at 2 a.m. demanding food.” Everyone does and it’s annoying. Like, Dick can cook too. So can Steph and Duke, and even Damian depending on the food. Why would they go to someone they don’t really like? Or trust? Jason shook his head, “How long have I been out?”

“A little over two days. Your Bruce and Dick wouldn’t leave your side, until Alfred had to shoo them away to get some food and sleep.” Jay chewed the inside of his cheek. “They, uh, they were looking at him kinda funny. Is… nevermind.” For all Jason’s faults, he was usually really good at reading people. He wasn’t as good as Cass, but he was pretty good. He had to be, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived as long as he did on the streets. If only he was able to read Sheila “Alfred left some clothes out for you. He’s in the kitchen right now, so once you’re done… yeah.” Jay turned to leave.

That was a lot more awkward than the last Jason they met who was this age. Actually, he was pretty sure this Jason was older. Though, he always felt more confident as Robin. He could always pretend to be more outgoing while dressed like a traffic light.

Jason was a bit wobbly on his feet, but he found the clothes Alfred laid out for him. They were probably Bruce's if he wasn’t mistaken.

Then he realized what sweatshirt specifically had been laid out for him.

It was a vintage Gotham Knight’s sweatshirt that Jason remembered wearing all the time in the cave. It had always been way too big on him, and Bruce tried to buy him one that would fit better, but there was something about Bruce’s sweatshirt specifically– maybe because it was vintage, or maybe because it was Bruce’s– that was comforting.

He tried to find it once when he went back to the cave, usually he kept it in his locker, but he had found it empty. With no trace that Jason was once Robin, besides that stupid memorial. He assumed Bruce threw everything out.

While Jason took a shower, he debated wearing the sweatshirt, but ultimately decided against it. Jason’s was long gone. And he was fine with that. He had his own time with his. This one belonged to Jay.

And then, it hit him like a freight train.

Alfred.

Alfred was here. Alfred was alive .

And, he made it to the kitchen, but… he couldn’t make it past the door. Not when the scene looked like it was pulled directly from his childhood. Jay on a stepstool so he could comfortably reach the counter, Alfred next to him giving him nods every time Jay looked to him for confirmation. The Beatles playing in the background.

And just seeing Alfred reminded him of how much he missed him.

Damian was sitting on one of the bar stools with a bunch of colored pencils and paper spread out in front of him.

Alfred finally seemed to notice him, “Ah, Master Jason. Glad to see you awake and about.” Even his voice was the same.

That was the thing about Alfred, no matter how much time had passed, he still stayed the same. The way he stood, the way he spoke. Every hair on his head, every line in his face. Jason had genuinely thought Alfred was immortal. Guess he was wrong .

Alfred moved to the fridge and pulled out a glass container of pasta salad. “Dinner is at six, though since you missed the last few meals, I would be amenable to fixing up something you would like.”

Jason placed the Gotham Knights sweatshirt on the backrest of the chair next to Damian, and sat in the next seat, glancing at the clock. It was currently 3:00, “I think I’ll be good for now, Alfred. Thank you.” Though, Jason wasn’t just saying thank you for the food. He was saying, thank you for all the years you’ve taken care of me, thank you for giving me a real childhood, thank you for being someone who believed in me.

Alfred gave him a knowing smile, as he scooped out some pasta into a bowl. Because maybe Alfred was a mind reader. Jason was pretty sure that held true across universes.

Jason started eating as he made a mental note of things. They’d already been in this universe for a lot longer than the other ones. They were even at the Wings Universe for noticeably longer. And then he stopped mid bite.

Alternate reality Jason had Seraphim Wings.

Maybe… No. Jason couldn’t’ve been an angel, especially not a seraphim. Not before he died, and definitely not after. It was just a different reality. It wasn’t even him .

Little Damian poked Jason’s cheek, “Big Jay-Akhi?”

Oh, this child was too cute. “Hm?”

“Can I see your magical swords?”

Jason scratched the back of his neck, “Uh, sorry kiddo. I can’t exactly summon them without the presence of pure evil. But I can tell you how your Umi was the one who brought me to this place called the Acres of All where I learned how to use it.”

He saw Jay’s mouth drop, “Wait, seriously? When?”

Egh.. that was a foggy time period, “I think I was… 17? Yeah, because I was 18 by the time I was back in Gotham, and that was after… yeah, I should’ve been 17.”

Jay beamed, and leapt off the stool he was on, darting towards the kitchen entrance, because Bruce(the younger one) was leaning against the doorframe, “Ya hear that, Old Man? I’m gonna get magical swords of my own! Oh my god, I’m gonna have to make up a new vigilante name! Wait–” Jay looked back at Jason, “What do you go by? What does your suit look like? Do you still stay in Gotham? Or do you work from wherever you go to college? Where do you go to college? Cus I’ve been thinking of Princeton since I could still come back to Gotham every weekend to see Damian and I would be close enough to help if there was an Arkham breakout, but I was also thinking NYU because then I could see Dick more often, and maybe help out the Titans. Am I aiming too high? I mean, afterall I didn’t really go to middle school, but my grades have been really good, and obviously you know that, you’re me, and I’ve been thinking if I had a really good essay, I could probably get into any good school. Not to mention Bruce said he’d pay for tuition, but I wanna know that I got into the school because I was good, not because Bruce has a lot of money, ya know?”

“Um…” Static filled Jason’s ears. He had to sit on his hands because they had gone cold. His whole body had gone cold, why was the manor so cold?

He was also sweating. Why was he sweating if he was so cold? His heart was pounding. Did he just come back from patrol?

He huffed out a breath and closed his eyes. He knew himself. He knew that school and college, and a future was something every version of himself would’ve wanted.

Yeah, no, Jason’s not gonna think about that. He’s gonna go back to making a mental checklist. He no longer had his kris. That was embedded in a hyena’s forehead.

Did his Bruce still have the duffel with their suits in it? Or were they just running around in civvies from here on out?

Jason no longer had his helmet or gloves. He had left those behind when he was holding a crying Tim. Which honestly sucked because if they got stuck in a reality that dropped below freezing, his fingers were going to be useless and in pain for the next 24 hours after that.

Alfred placed a grounding hand on Jason’s elbow, “I believe we should hold off on interrogating the older Master Jason until he fully wakes up.”

Jason snapped back into the real world and realized everyone was looking at him funny.

No clue why though. He was perfectly fine.

But his Bruce and Dick were now in the room, and so was Talia, so he looked to her, “You wouldn’t happen to have any spare knives on you? I kinda lost mine a couple dimensions ago.”

Talia gave him a fond smile, and then a pointed look towards Alternate reality Bruce, “I was told not to give you anymore blades that weren’t approved by your father beforehand.”

Jay sat in the seat in between Jason and Damian, “She gave me a squiggly knife for my birthday. And then Bruce had a cow.”

Jason nodded, “Batcow.” And then blinked, “Oh, wait, you were talking about the expression. Not Damian’s pet. I thought you meant Bruce took away the kris and got you a cow instead.”

Suddenly Bruce was faced with a pair of double puppy eyes from both Damian and Jay, and Jason realized the chaos he had caused.

Jay sat on his hands and kicked his legs, tripling the cuteness factor, “Maybe not a cow, but at least a dog?”

Damian got off his chair and gave Bruce the drawing he was working on, “Please, Baba ? We can also get a pony in case the dog gets lonely. Like Dickie-Akhi and Jay-Akhi. We can then get a kitten when the doggy leaves because dogs don’t like cats.”

He saw both Bruce's fold, and Bruce had better hope their Damian never asks to get a pony, because Jason will bring up this moment.

“Wait, why am I the pony?” Jay had his head tilted to the side.

“Because you’re Ponyboy! From the story!”

The Outsiders?

Jay hummed, “I always saw myself in Johnny.”

Jason shoveled the rest of the pasta into his mouth, even though all it tasted like was ash. He could only half pay attention to what the rest of the conversation was.

“…Wasn’t that the one who killed someone?”

“It was an accident, and it was also in self defense.”

“Jay-Akhi, you can’t be Johnny. He dies.”

“Saving kids from a fire wouldn’t be the worst way to go out.”

Jason’s ears were ringing.

His heart dropped. Just like Garzonas over the edge of a balcony. A man he didn’t push, but he didn’t save.

A shiver ran up his spine, yet his ears felt like they were on fire. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He was trapped under a smoldering rebar, and the only thing he could smell was smoke and burning flesh.

Abruptly he stood up, “I’m… gonna… go back to bed.” He was about to bolt out of the room when he turned back to Alfred, and offered him a tight smile. “Thank you.”

And he stumbled out of the kitchen.

Jason was bundled up in three blankets, but his chest wouldn’t expand, his heart was now pulsing in his throat, and he still felt cold. Too cold. He was on fire, he was covered with burns. He was riddled with frostbite. Every bone in his body was crushed. He was bleeding. Bleeding out of his neck. His hands were coated with sticky red. Red, red, red. The air was too thick– He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

There was laughing, laughing, laughing, something was eating him alive, but he wasn’t alive. He was just a doll. A doll with a voice box that sang, ‘only the good die young, only the good die young! Onlythegooddieyoung! ONLYTHEGOODDIEYOUNG!’ over and over and over again dissonant against the laughter that wouldn’t stop.

Nope.

Jason does not have to deal with this. They were currently on a mission. A really long mission, sure, but they were on a mission. He didn’t have time to panic. In fact, the only reason he was currently panicking about a book was because he was just tired. Even though he slept for two days. Though, in his defense, his soul almost decided to Houdini out of…existence.

His soul.

His wings.

They had completely wrecked Angel Jason’s wings. They had broken his soul. Even if the angel had survived, who knew if he would ever be the same again.

Either way his soul was shattered into too many pieces. His soul. He was broken .

He felt the corner of his bed dip, the sweet smell of jasmine filling the air, as fingers ran through his hair.

Talia.

Safety.

‘Ana huna

“You have always said Robin was magic. Though, Richard always said that magic came from you. I guess he was right.” Talia puffed out a soft breath that could only be heard as fond.

It tickled the back of his brain. The part that would always be frozen in time. Watching the last second on the timer. The part that knew something came after that and before that Halloween, but he could not remember what was there. The part that knew there was something in between the coffin and the Lazarus pit, but the pieces were too fractured to put together.

“Jason, tayirati alsaghira,” My little bird, “You still make the same face when you are trying not to think of something that haunts you. I will not pretend to know you as I know my Jason…” She trailed off, as she thought carefully of her next words, “just know I do not plan on letting anything happen to my sons. None of them, no matter the Universe.” She continued to brush his hair behind his ear, “You are safe as long as I am here.”

Jason curled in on himself, “‘Ana huna.” I am here.

It was a phrase buried deep within his mind.

“Yes, ‘ana huna.” He could almost hear Talia’s fond smile, “ ‘Ana huna.”

And if Jason let himself zone out, he could almost picture himself back at the league.

A husk of a boy. Sitting in a grass field while the promise of ‘ana huna was softly whispered in his ear. A time when he was too hollow to hurt. Too hurt to feel. Oddly, it was probably the best period of his post-mortem life. Mainly because he didn’t remember it at all.

And with Talia there, whispering ‘ana huna, Jason could just forget.

He could forget.

Jason ended up coming down to help Alfred make dinner. They were making Biryani– Jason’s idea– and it was weird.

It was weird because Jason knew this wasn’t his Alfred. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He had to keep reminding himself that his Alfred was no longer able to cook besides him in this kitchen because of Bane.

Yet, cooking alongside Alfred always felt comfortable. It always felt right . He never felt like he had to live up to any expectations whenever he was around Alfred.

He knew he could just be.

Except, Alfred was giving him that look that meant he knew something was up, and was waiting patiently for Jason to tell him. Honestly, it was a near constant look on Alfred’s face– whether that be towards Bruce, or Dick, or anyone.

When Jason was younger, he used to wonder if Alfred was a time traveler. Since he died, he just thinks Alfred could read minds.

Or Alfred just knows them all really well.

The rice was already cooking and Jason started frying the onions in a pan alongside the spices. He and Alfred worked well in silence, it’s just that, Jason wanted to say something. He just didn’t know what.

“Alfred?”

Alfred handed Jason the chopped tomatoes, “Yes, my boy?”

“If–” Jason cut himself off and frowned as he slid the tomatoes into the pan, “Nothin’.” and then he realized that it would be a bit too obvious if Jason wanted Alfred to drop the look. “I was just wondering if you could eat at the table with us tonight?”

Alfred gave him that smile that meant he wouldn’t normally do what Jason’s asking him to, but will because he knows Jason needs it. “Just tonight.”

Dinner was… interesting.

Jason could tell that both Bruces wanted to talk about interdimensional travel, but Alfred had a strict no cave work in the manor policy. (the policy had been tossed out the window by the time he came back from the dead, but oh well.)

Jason was sitting next to Talia who was feeding Damian as he babbled about different animals and people named the Kratt brothers? Though, it was really sweet to watch. Mainly because he knew this wasn’t something that would happen between their Talia and Damian.

Dick was looking down at his plate, like it had personally offended him, and Alfred was sitting at the head of the table with both Jasons to either side of him.

Jay was looking at Jason with a question on his face, “How come your Bruce lets you get away with the white streak?”

Out of all the Jasons who were Robins, he’s surprised he hasn’t been asked that question earlier, “As if Bruce has any control over me.” Jason glanced to Dick and back to Jay, hopefully projecting, He still doesn’t know about the vitiligo, as much as he could, “I also wear a helmet.”

Jay also glanced at Dick and grinned, “Is it because of your magical swords? Or do you just dye it? Ya know, you should dye it a different color. Like… I was gonna say green, but it’ll look horrible once it fades, but maybe… purple.”

Jason hummed, “Maybe.” He looked to Dick, “Ya think I could get Steph in on it too?”

Dick glared at Jason. It was a glare filled with such temperance, Jason had to hold back a flinch.

Jay turned to face Dick, while leaning slightly back. “Who’s Steph?”

Like a lightswitch, Dick’s glare softened, “She’s our current Batgirl.”

So he was angry with Jason. Why was he angry with him? He thought they were getting better.

The Batgirl comment seemed to deflate Jay’s mood, “So Babs doesn’t…”

“No, she doesn’t.” A flurry of emotions seemed to pass over Jay’s face before settling on worry, “But honestly, she’s much more bada–” Dick glanced at Damian, “-wesome. Awesome, she’s much more awesome now. She’s basically our eyes and ears. She mans the coms, and sends us to wherever we’re needed. She’s kinda our guardian… angel now.” Dick looked back at his plate, pushing around some rice.

Jay rolled his eyes, sensing the tone shift at the end, “Please tell me you two aren’t also fighting. Because I came off of a phone call a couple days ago with my big brother telling him how much of a big idiot he was, and I really don’t feel like repeating myself.”

Dick gave him a little chuckle, and ruffled Jay’s hair, “Nah, kiddo, we’ve been just friends for the better part of the decade.”

“That’s what you say about Wally and Roy, yet I still see both of their clothes in your room.”

“Everyone’s clothes are everywhere in Titans Tower. You know that.” Jay looked like he wanted to continue to poke fun at Dick and his relationships, but Dick cut him off, “Steph! Is actually really cool. She was her own hero for a time, and then she was Robin, and then went on to be Batgirl. She’s basically Damian’s big sister, but Bruce won’t adopt her.”

Jay nodded, “So like…Babs but blonde?” and then paused, “I don’t treat Steph how you treat Babs, right?”

Jason grimaced, “Nah, I could never pull a Tim. She deserves better.”

“Who’s Tim?”

Bruce (the old man,) finally pitched into the conversation, “Do you have a small kid with a camera who follows you around as Robin?”

Jay nodded.

Jason blinked, “Hold up, is Tim a little stalker in every universe except for ours?”

Bruce’s face twisted like he was adding something to his mental tally, “No. Ours did too. You were the one who told me about him. Though, I didn’t believe you, until Tim showed up on our doorstep.”

“Huh. I guess I forgot.” Jason scratched his head and frowned. How could he have forgotten? Jason hasn’t forgotten any of the alley kids he meets on patrol, or the people he’s saved from muggings, or anything. He might not know some of their names, but he could never forget their faces. How in tarnation did he forget Tim running around from roof to roof with a camera?

What else does he not remember?

The rest of dinner passed, Jay offered to get Damian ready for bed, while Alfred washed the dishes. The rest of them headed down to the cave.

Jason had to do a double take, because this cave was nothing like their cave, and it definitely didn’t look like the cave he knew when he was younger.

First off, there was a swing near the computer. There was also the normal batcomputer chair, but Jason just wasn’t expecting there to be a swing. Vaguely, in the back of his mind he remembered sitting on a swing with a sleeping kid leaning on him as the sun set. Second, there were no weapons out on racks, and most of the sharp corners were either blunted or covered with foam. Third, there was one of those toy cars that a kid could ride in, that was painted to look like the batmobile. Along with a pretty large Thomas the Train track set, and a bin of legos.

So, really the main difference between this batcave and their batcave, was that this one was baby proofed.

“Jason, would you mind if I took a sample of your blood? Just a blood test, nothing else.” Young Bruce led them towards the medbay, while Talia, Dick and Older Bruce made their way to the computer

Jason frowned, “Why… didn’t you do that when I was unconscious?” He figured Mr. Paranoid would’ve done that already.

“You passed out due to magical interference. I did not want to… complicate your status.” Bruce opened a drawer and pulled out a sterile needle, tube, and tourniquet. “And I know you don’t like having needles placed in you without your knowledge. Unless that’s just something my Jason doesn’t appreciate.”

Jason sat on the cot and rolled up his sleeve, “Nah, you’re right. I’m just… I’m fine if it’s you.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, while grabbing a bandaid (Wonder Woman themed) and an alcohol wipe, “What about Alfred? Or Leslie?”

“They go without saying.” They were the ones who figured it’d be better to make a routine while bringing needles around Jason. It’s not a distraction, just reassurance nothing’s been tampered with. Jason doesn’t really need people to do that for him anymore, not since he’s had more traumas that have made unsterile needles seem juvenile, but the thought is still nice.

“What about Talia and Dick.” Bruce tied the tourniquet around Jason’s upper arm.

“Dick hasn’t tried in… a really long time. He tried to distract me, and I kicked him in the face. Though, I dunno about Talia. I trust her with my life, but I don’t remember how that trust was built.”

“Hnm.” That was his mentally tally for something off grunt.

Bruce started putting together the needle and tube in front of Jason. He felt around for his vein, then disinfected Jason’s arm, “One… Two… Three.”

There was a slight pinch, but other than that, Jason was fine.

Jason’s fears were weird like that. He’s not afraid of the Joker, but his heart stops whenever he sees a blonde with a bob on the streets. He’s not claustrophobic from the coffin, but the feeling of dirt under his fingernails sends a shudder throughout his whole body. He’s not afraid of needles, he’s afraid of what’s attached to it.

Bruce took the needle out, stuck the bandaid on, and disposed of the gloves he was using. Then he offered Jason a smile, “I like that you decided to grow the white out. Reminds me of a tiny little boy who hit me with a tire iron and called me a big boob.”

Jason opened his mouth and then closed it, Not his Bruce He hopped off the cot. Jason gave him a little smile back, as they both headed back to the batcomputer.

They were planning on building a beacon of sorts. Older Bruce already had a couple of designs sketched out, and had made a list of materials that would be needed to make said device. Most of them they could find, but some of them Jason knew they wouldn’t be able to get their hands on unless the universe was a couple years in the future. Or they went on a deep space adventure, which they couldn’t because that would take too much time. Time they didn’t know they had.

Jason was currently sitting in the study, across from Bruce. It was just them in the manor. Talia had left for work at Wayne Enterprises, Alfred was currently dropping off Jason and Damian at school. Dick and Younger Bruce were out gathering materials.

Dick, who was still upset with Jason. What did he do? Dick hasn’t been this mad at Jason since Jason was in his villain arc. As far as Jason knew, they were fine back in the Wings universe. And he was concked for the past two days, and Dick’s been avoiding him since then, so it had to be something that happened over there.

Unless he said something wrong while he was asleep– but he doesn’t sleep talk. Maybe it was something he did?

Since no one else was in the manor with them, they decided to update the chart of Universes they’ve been to. On a real piece of paper.

This time they were just titled Jason 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8. He couldn’t find it in him to give each of them snarky nicknames.

Most of it stayed the same, if they were Robin or not, their Age, the place where they died, how they died. Though they decided to add the differences between each of the universes, and how long they were in each universe.

“Got any theories on why we’ve been in this universe much longer than the other ones?” Sure, they had also been in the Wings Universe longer than the other universes, six hours, though that’s still a lot less than three days.

“Dick seems to think that because the beam directly hit you, where we go is somewhat attached to you.”

Jason nodded. It made sense… but at the same time it didn’t. If the beam was magic, it would make more sense, but it seemed to be just tech gone wrong, “And you?”

Bruce looked at him, but too many years of miscommunication must have passed between them, because the only thing he could read on Bruce’s face was a mixture of grief and relief, “Jason hasn’t…”

“Well, Sherlock, couldn't've figured that one out.” Jason tapped the pen on the table, “but usually we’re sent back a little before the incident starts. The first one we were in the warehouse a couple minutes before Robin arrived. The second Jason was actively freezing to death, the third Jason was an hour before he got hit by the car, tops. The fourth one was also a little under an hour before the manor got swarmed, the fifth one was seconds before I came back to life. The sixth one was– we were in the room while… The lamb was an active member of-of the food chain, while we just sat there . And baby Jay was probably spooning cocaine into his mout h as we– as she –” Jason shut his mouth. He felt like he was going to throw up. “She didn’t even care.” Jason underlined the age of baby Jay on their list. “She left her four year old son alone . In the apartment. With drugs in reach . She didn’t care , Bruce.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, but it still didn’t stop his mouth from twitching downwards, so he let out a little laugh. “I’ve– I’ve spent the last eight years trying to make excuses for her. That she was being blackmailed by the Joker, she was young and wasn’t ready to be a- a mother, that the world was just out to get her, but she– my mom – Catherine, the one who raised me– she would’ve never let that happen. Any of it. She wouldn’t’ve– up until the very end she didn’t even let me near– ” Jason pressed his lips together, his eyes burning with shame at the stupid, naive, fifteen year old version of himself who was desperately clawing at any ounce of acceptance he could find. “ Mami wouldn’t have sold me out.” it came out barely above a whisper.

Bruce reached his hand across the desk, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Jason shook his head, “I want to tell you. God, Bruce I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. But at the same time, I didn’t?” He set down the pen and looked into Bruce’s eyes. They used to be a brighter blue. The color of the sky on a good day in Gotham. Now they've turned gray. Jason doesn’t know when it happened. He just knows it was sometime while he was gone. He looked back down at the pen, “Sometimes, it’s just really hard to talk to you. There are so many times that I want to talk to you . To Bruce . Except ever since I’ve come back, it feels like I have to fight Batman just to do that.” Jason shook his head, he knew he had Bruce right now. If he had Batman, he’d be interrogating Jason instead of letting him speak. “Every single day since I could think straight, I’ve regretted how– how desperate I was to meet her. How I didn’t even do any background checks on her or how I didn’t even tell Alfred about it, I just found out and… left. ”

“Jason–”

“Let me finish.” He took in a breath, “It was reckless, it wasn’t thought through, I was so… willing to trust her even though that was the worst mistake of my life. It was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Jason, she led you into a false sense of security, it wasn’t your fault–”

“It wasn’t my fault? Bruce, I knew better than that! The first thing you learn as a Alley kid is don’t talk to people you don’t know or you’ll end up dead in a ditch . I literally found three contacts in Papi’s phone with names I didn’t even know, and left halfway across the world to ask a secret agent– Who I didn’t even know– if she was my mother, and I should’ve stopped then, but I then asked Lady Shiva ? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Bruce stood up and rounded the table until he was kneeling in front of him. “Jason, it was not your fault. I’m sorry for ever believing otherwise.”

He shook his head, “I never blamed you for my death. I’ve told you this. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“I’m apologizing for turning you into a cautionary tale. For assuming things about your death.”

Jason looked anywhere but the the man in front of him, “Bruce–”

“Jason, you were 15 years old. You just wanted to get to know a mother you never knew you had. That’s understandable. It is comparatively more tame to what your siblings were doing around that age.” He locked eyes with Jason, “It wasn’t your fault. You were just a child. A child who had to grow up too quickly because none of the adults in your life could give you what you needed. And that includes me.” Bruce held both of Jason’s hands in his. An action that used to completely bury Jason’s hands, but now, both of their hands were relatively the same size. “I know you don’t like it when I… lament over your death, though it’s not just about not making it there in time. It’s because I left you alone with her, it’s because I let you track down Lady Shiva. It’s because I should’ve told you to take a break from Robin in a different way, because I knew you were hurting, but I didn’t know how to help you.”

Jason knew his mouth was hanging agape. And then he shut it, “I feel like that’s a recurring theme between us.”

Bruce offered him a small smile. One he hasn’t seen in a while, “We’ll figure it out eventually.”

And Jason knows that Bruce will try. He will try to reach Jason, try to figure out how to get back to him. But there's always that one day. That one day when he feels like they’re almost back to where they were before he died. There’ll always be something . Something that sends it all crashing down. And that something is usually Batman.

He knows that Bruce can never put the cowl down. It’s the same reason why the rest of them can’t either. It’s a special mix of adrenaline and guilt that keeps drawing them back to protecting people. In ways, it’s an addiction of sorts. And Bruce will always choose the addiction of being a hero over any of them.

Still, Jason nods whenever Bruce says he'll try harder. Because Jason is the moon. A cold and dry desolate landscape, and when water-the building block of life- when the oceans try to reach him, he can only try to reach back. He’ll always be grasping for something he’ll never be big enough to pull towards him.

“The real thing we should figure out… eventually, is why in the world did my dad have Lady Shiva in his contacts.”

It didn’t take long for Alfred to come home after that, and Dick and Younger Bruce came home around noon. Both Bruce's got to work on the beacon, while Jason and Dick help Alfred with chores around the house. It definitely made the top three most awkward moments of his life, death and life. Since he was actively trying to ignore the fact that their Alfred was dead and Dick was upset with him.

Jason spared a glance at Dick and found him staring again.

Furious.

Though Alfred definitely knew something Jason didn’t, because he was giving Dick his I know what you’re thinking, but not everyone can read your mind look that he usually reserved for Bruce. Dick glanced from Jason to Alfred, his face contorting into that weird mixture of grief and relief.

Oh.

Jason wasn’t the only one who lost Alfred. So did Dick, and he knew Alfred for much longer than Jason had. Alfred was more of Dick’s constant, than Jason’s. And Dick only seemed angry at Jason after he and Alfred had made dinner together.

He finished vacuuming the living room carpet, “I think I’m gonna head to the library.” and to the library he went.

The first book Jason was about to pick up was the Iliad. Then he remembered where the story of Icarus was from. And Icarus had wings and so do angels–

And they both fell.

They both died.

He shook his head and went to the Jane Austen section, and grabbed Sense and Sensibility. He went to the papasan chair he used to curl up in when he was younger. The one in their manor was gone. He’s now too grown to sit with his legs underneath him, without tipping over the chair, but still, being there in the library, with only a book for company, let him drift to the land of 19th century literature, without worrying about what was going on around them.

He was halfway through the book when Alfred came in, looking more tense than Jason’s ever seen him “the Joker is out of Arkham.”

Naturally . Jason went to put away the book he was reading, “Do we know where–”

“Gotham City Elementary.”

Jason stilled before practically running out of the library and to the cave, Alfred keeping pace with him. Gotham City High School was only a couple blocks away from the Elementary school. And he knew he kept a spare suit in his backpack when he was in high school, just in case a rogue attacked. There was no way he would stay behind if he knew, especially since Damian went to the elementary school.

Jason leaped down the stairs to get to where Younger Bruce was suiting up, and Dick and older Bruce were putting on spare dominoes. Jason reached to grab one too, but Dick swatted his hand away.

Jason reached again, “I’m sorry if you didn’t catch on, but I lost my helmet four realities ago.”

“No.” Dick slapped his hand away again, and fixed Jason with a hard glare, “You’re staying here.”

He blinked, “Excuse me?”

“You’re staying here. That’s final.” Dick strode towards the batmobile.

So Dick was still mad at him. Why was he still upset with him? It couldn’t’ve been the Alfred thing, because he gave them their time. It had to be something before that, “If you’re upset with me for… taking down those wing smugglers, just know the All Blades don’t work on anything that isn’t true evil–”

“I know that. That’s not– we don’t have time for this.”

“Exactly. We don’t have time for this. I’m coming.” Jason opened the drawer to grab a domino, and marched after him.

Dick scoffed, “No, you’re not.”

“Is it because I killed that Hyena version of the Joker ?”

He turned to face him, “No–”

“Then why? Do you not trust me or–”

“I could see you fading, Jason! You almost died! Again! Ok? And you keep dying! Ever since I got back from space and saw on the news that you were dead, I fucking thought that if I was there then–” Dick cut himself off, took a deep breath “Every single universe we go to, you keep dying, and we’re right there, but we can never do anything about it! And it’s not fine, but the only reason I’m not losing my mind over their deaths is that I keep telling myself that you are alive. That they’re not you, because you are my little brother. You keep dying. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Jason shook his head, “Dick… You know I can’t promise you that. Not with our line of work. You couldn’t even keep that promise.”

Dick leveled him with a glare.

This was a losing battle, wasn’t it? Jason went to sit on the swing. “I’ll stay.” they were probably going to leave this universe soon anyway.

He heard their footsteps leave the cave, and the sound of the batmobile driving off.

He knew Alfred sat down next to him, but he didn’t look. They watched the news play from the batcomputer. They watched as Robin led groups of classes out of the school. And then they couldn’t see the little boy dressed in traffic colors.

Alfred grasped his hand

They couldn’t see Batman, or Bruce and Dick enter the building, but he knew more groups of kids were making their way out of the building.

Jason leaned his head against Alfred’s shoulder, as they saw Batman rush out of the roof of the school with a bundle of yellow cradled to his chest. They watched as he grappled away.

Alfred went to prep the Medbay, while Jason knew where this was headed.

So he started collecting their things. Which, throughout their journey had dwindled down to very few things. Jason’s leather jacket. Dick’s phone. Bruce’s wallet. He also gathered some things he thought they would need. The list they made of each universe they’d been to. A copy of the blueprints of the beacon. He had to wander around to find the hidden weapon racks, but he stocked up on shurikens, and grabbed a pair of escrima sticks for Dick. stuffing them in various pockets of his leather jacket.

The engine of the Batmobile sounded through the cave, and before they heard the breaks of the car, they heard the doors swinging open.

And screaming. Blood curdling screams, but it wasn’t coming from Jay. Jason made his way to the batmobile, to find older Bruce sitting with his head against the wheel while Dick held a squirming Damian while sitting in the passenger seat.

“ AKHI! AKHI!! I WANT MY AKHI!”

Dick was attempting to rock Damian, lightly hushing him, but it wasn’t working.

“ Damian .” Bruce said it in a tone that was stern, yet soft. “Damian, your brother is really hurt right now. I know you want to see him, but your father and Alfred are working hard on trying to make him feel better.”

“B-but I want Jay-Akhi !” Damian squirmed again, but with significantly less effort.

They heard the doors to the cave fling open, as heels clacked against the stairs, and then across the floor. There was also the squeak of sneakers,

“Doctor Tompkins, the medbay,” Talia made her way to the batmobile, scooped Damian out of Dick’s arms and made her way over to the swing, setting Damian down, holding his face with both her hand, wiping away his tears, speaking in Arabic “Habibi, I am going to help with Jay-Akhi. Big Jay and Dickie will stay with you here, ok?”

“Is Jay-Akhi gonna be ok?”

“We will see.” Talia placed a kiss on Damian’s forehead, and motioned for older Bruce to follow her.

Jason moved to the batcomputer to play music to distract the boy. There was already a playlist for the boy, filled with mostly lullabies and slower Disney songs. He hit shuffle, and the first song was ‘Ma Belle, Evangeline’ from Princess and the Frog.

Dick sat down next to Damian, as Damian rested his head on Dick’s chest. He held the kid close, and rested his head on top of Damian’s.

The kid had a far off look in his eyes. Like he wasn’t really there with them. It was a look he saw in so many of the kids on the streets of crime alley. He wondered if he had that look when Bruce found him. If he thought being Robin would fix it in the same way it seemed to fix Dick. Being Robin never really fixed any of them though. It just gave them something else to focus on.

Jason grabbed a sticky note that was next to the batcomputer, and wrote Damian’s disassociating. Make sure he has someone to talk to. If not a league therapist, Elaine Thomas is a good option in Gotham. She’s also the mother of a kid you foster in the future. ~JTW

Jason went to sit on the opposite side of Damian, lightly rocking the swing with his foot. Thinking for a moment before asking in French, “ What happened?” Jason was 80 percent sure Damian wasn’t paying attention, but he didn’t want to accidentally trigger him.

Their Damian knew French, and this Damian was probably multilingual, but Jason was certain it was just the main languages spoken in the house. English, Arabic, Spanish, and Romanian.

“ The rest of the class was already out. The… monster made him watch as he beat robin with a crowbar. It was a trap.”

Jason frowned, “How did he know?”

“I don’t know. But he also knew about the lamb.”

Jason stilled. Was the Joker traveling from universe to universe with them? No, because he killed that version.

The heart monitor let out a high pitched whine. Jay was flatlining. Dick looked back to Damian who didn’t have any reaction to the noise. “The crazy man split open his skull and he made him watch.”

Jason leaned his head on Dick’s shoulder. “Talia’s going to kill him.”

“I know.”

The lights to the batcave seemed to get brighter and brighter. Until they were gone.

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #red hood #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #talia al ghul #bruce and talia #alternate universe #dimensional travel #robin jason todd

20 notes · View notes

dreamsinthewitchouse · 1 year

Text

The I in the FBI is for Idiots

Stucky X-Files AU, 0.6k, Teen This little ficlet is a present for my beloved T @otp-holic, 'cause we can't stop talking about these Special Idiots in Love™ 👽💓👽✨🛸

Happy birthday, sweetheart! 💖💖💖 I've said it before and I will keep saying it over and over again; you're amazing, your kindness and talent know no bounds, this fandom is so lucky to have you, and meeting you through our shared love for our boys has made my life so much better. 🥰💕

Special agent James Barnes watches his partner nudge aside a stack of manila folders, nearly knocking over the cold dregs of his coffee.

(Rogers drinks it black, with three or four sugars. It’s completely disgusting, yet somehow endearing.)

James closes the file he’s holding, having read the same sentence approximately twenty times in the past five minutes. Across the room Rogers leans over his desk, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and letting out a soft and quiet fuck.

James takes off his glasses and runs a hand over his face. ”Look, I don’t think we’re getting anywhere here, and you need to sleep. We can go over it tomorrow.”

Rogers mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he pushes up from his chair and turns to rummage through the disorderly filing cabinet.

”Anyway, I need to get going, I’ve got…” James trails off, glancing at the I Want to Believe poster on the wall.

Rogers swivels around to toss a couple of folders onto his already overflowing desk, but doesn’t look at him.

”…a date,” James finishes, immediately wishing he could swallow the words back down.

”Yeah? That’s nice. Have fun.”

James thinks it comes out a bit clipped, that he sees the tiniest change in Roger’s posture, in the set of his shoulders, but he tells himself he’s imagining things.

Get a grip, and get out of here. He doesn’t care.

James clears his throat. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

Rogers doesn’t say anything more, and James walks out of their tiny basement office, his stupid heart in his throat.

The date isn’t by far the worst James has ever been on, but it’s also the last thing he wants to be doing right now, and he’s growing more restless by the minute, fidgeting with his napkin.

He’s sipping his second glass of wine when an ice truck rolls past, and something in the back of his mind clicks into place.

The cold.

The man sitting across the table keeps talking about his sister’s kids, which really is quite of adorable, but James is barely paying attention to what he’s actually saying, already lost in the images flashing in front of his eyes; a crime scene photo showing a white van parked near one of the victim’s houses, the empty ice trays in the kitchens of the crime scenes.

Whoever is doing this likes the cold, maybe even needs it.

It can wait, it’s a long shot, he tells himself. You’re just looking for a reason to talk to him.

James tries, he really does, but by the time they’ve finished the bottle his resolve simply breaks. He excuses himself to the bathroom, only to sneak outside and punch out a text before he can reason himself out of it.

I think I figured out something about the case. Call me when you can.

He draws in a deep lungful of the crisp November air and leans his head back against the wall. He’s barely slid the phone into his pocket before it vibrates, sending a jolt through his system. James answers it, his hands suddenly so sweaty he’s in serious danger of dropping the whole thing.

“Talk to me,” Rogers says, his voice soft and intense in a way James feels down to his bones.

(That, however, is nothing compared to how he feels later on, leaning over the same desk, their heads bent close together, Roger’s eyes wide and bright with excitement.

This is it, Barnes. You’re amazing, he says, and James bites into the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood.)

#happy birthday t 💛💛💛💛💛💛#you're the best and i love you 💓💓💓#stucky #stucky fic #my fics #special idiots in love™

93 notes · View notes

gilgamish · 11 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @tallmatcha 💖🍵 my beloved Tagging: @paraparadigm , @kookaburra1701, @dirty-bosmer , @hogsbando Would love to see what you’re all working on :D! For this week, I’m switching gears for another WIP. It’s some of the characters from Roamer Red, but I’ve remixed them, worked on them, and put them into a story with more dark academia, queer themes, more horror, spies and double agents, and court drama yadda yadda Like essentially, RR: Gayer and Meaner Edition™

Hours later, at the reception, he broke from the party and stole into the jarl’s private gardens. Late afternoon had slipped between the rushes of columbine warm and golden. Pomp air inside the Blue Palace slowly receding from him, he passed the rows of hyacinths and cowslips, once beloved of Queen Dagmar.

But he wasn’t completely alone. Stealing up the walk behind him, hands clutching her white skirts, was Jarl Elisif herself. Heat from the late afternoon hour had put a wonderful flush in her face, and her red gleamed, though bound up in a fine net of pearls. “My jarl,” he greeted her, then looked past her for her housecarl, her steward, or perhaps a servant, but no one had entered the garden after her, leaving the pair of them unchaperoned. He could already hear the scandalized whispers and murmurings. Thane Erikur’s greasy smile came to mind, when he shook Erendil’s hand, and there was a knowing look in his eyes that Erendil wasn’t unaccustomed to getting. “Would you allow me to escort you back?” he suggested.

Jarl Elisif turned and glanced behind. “Would you care to take a stroll about the gardens first?”

With her being the jarl, he found it difficult to deny the request. “Of course.” He offered her his arm, and among the rings on her fingers then grasping his arm, the one that stood out the most was the plain band of gold on her ring finger. It was an emblematic display of how the Nord people begrudgingly adopted the concept of marriage from the rest of the Empire, even centuries later.

“Is Solitude to your liking?”

He said as pleasantly as he could, “It reminds me of Evengarden.”

“Oh, that’s right. Your family seat is also by the sea.” Her eyes, a crisp shade of blue, crinkled as she smiled.

“As is yours.” They spoke of their respective backgrounds. Elisif was from one of the many prominent merchant-clans in the city, but chose to marry Torygg. The negotiations of their marriage took three years. When the Solitude’s Moot moved to favor Torygg, only then did their respective clans agree to finalize the marriage. “Seems almost like a business deal, doesn't it?” she asked.

“To the contrary, it’s quite par for the course in High Rock. But betrothals happen earlier, I would say.”

“Really?” She then asked, “Are you betrothed, then?”

“Yes.”

That sparked her interest. “What’s she like?”

Erendil hesitated to answer, “I don’t know. We’re to meet on our wedding day.” Ever so briefly, Elisif furrowed her brow, then deftly changed the topic, circling back to Solitude.

This can only go incredibly well :]

#WIP Wednesday #my writing #OC: Ren #tes fic

23 notes · View notes

frenchiepal · 5 months

Text

13.11.23 🧸🎃🍂🍁

i'm in love with the semester so far. everything's super relaxed and i have time for violin practice, reading and my target language all without stressing •ᴗ•

#the air today was so crisp™#studyblr #langblr #aesthetic #study aesthetic #study inspiration #studying english literature #studying linguistics #studyspo #academia #jaystudies #tw food

561 notes · View notes

kkanabel · 1 year

Text

directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

march 7th, 2020 ( chapter 3 , week 1 )

sypnosis: The new year has just started– you’re moving into a place with your closest friends after reaching the peak of your career. Now that you can afford to live in Tokyo, you can finally spend time with your closest friends and go out on the town to further grow your YouTube channel. It’s time to have a new start in your new place and meet hot, rich people to be your possible future partner. This is the life to live; it’s great being famous and living in a big city with your best friends!

Wait, never mind– COVID-19 is in Japan? Fuck.

Well, at least there’s this one hot guy you keep seeing on TikTok who keeps posting about cleaning.

As of today, the government of Japan has released news about the 2020 Tokyo Olympics–effectively delaying it for at least a year until the conditions of the pandemic wear down. However, the pandemic hasn’t stopped Sakusa’s TikTok from reaching scary numbers.

Sakusa didn’t know whether to feel surprised or not surprised. After all, he posted his short-form video at the perfect time. Those who didn’t have TikTok before were suddenly downloading the app (albeit mostly as a joke) and those who already had it were suddenly spending more and more time on it.

In the wake of the pandemic, Sakusa had unknowingly filled the niche that people needed– information. While some used traditional news sources, people of younger audiences needed an easier way to digest this information. So, Sakusa’s TikTok was highly favored by the almighty algorithm god.

The video he posted last night was a simple one. Some quick information about COVID-19 and then some tips to not get sick. He showed his entire process, step-by-step. Washing his hands, putting on gloves, and then wearing a hazmat suit to keep away from the dust and germs he was going to come into contact with.

He cleaned his home as if it housed a person who had the sickness.

So now, Sakusa’s holding his phone (protected with a Casetify™ phone case because it’s made to be antimicrobial #nonspons) and scrolling through the comments. When he’s done absorbing the contents and screenshotting the noteworthy ones with tips and tricks, he adds them to a subfolder in his new Google Drive folder for TikTok. Next to his new folder were old ones– gardening, painting, and modeling.

As of this point, Sakusa is no longer basking in the shock, but planning his next videos. Before he knows it, he’s written down three pages of ideas and has started drafting his next three videos.

He couldn’t lie. It was addicting. The comments asking him for a “part 2 pls” and the ones telling him that the information was “so useful!” and that they were “great tips for the incoming apocalypse” were making him feel way too many feel-good chemicals in his noodle.

Thus, after spending approximately three hours reading comments, taking notes, and drafting his TikToks, he put his phone face-down onto his nightstand, revealing his customized phone case.

There was an artsy aloe vera plant in the center, matching the aloe vera plant on his windowsill. A couple months ago, Bokuto ordered it for him. After coming to Sakusa’s house and meeting his aloe vera plant, he made a very excited statement.

“She looks just like me!” he exclaimed, enthusiastically pointing to his hair and then to the plant.

So, when Sakusa got a new phone, Bokuto immediately gifted this to him, saying that he could always just turn his phone around, look at the phone case, and remember that it’s “aloe-right”. Sakusa visibly frowned when he heard the pun, but he’s been using the phone case ever since.

Either way, Sakusa left his phone and went to go tend to his plants. He exited the door to his small backyard to face the fresh morning air, basking in the humid but still crisp, cold air. In his backyard, he built a small greenhouse so that his plants wouldn’t die during the winter. It would probably fit two very physically close people if he tried. He shuddered at the thought of being close to anybody during this time, but it didn’t matter. The greenhouse was only for his plants.

He was also despairing about the idea of having to go to the grocery store next week. He was running out of food, and seriously debating on whether or not he should start rationing his food like it’s the apocalypse. Maybe it is. Whilst watering his plants, he was lost in thought for the day. His bottom lip was tucked under his teeth, and his brows were drawn together in a begrudging hug.

But then, he realized. Going to the grocery store and showing his ways to stay COVID-free was the perfect TikTok video. It would be a win-win. People who saw his video would follow his instructions (so he wouldn’t have to deal with more germs than necessary) and he’d also have an excuse to make another TikTok! It’s perfect.

He quickly finished his work outside and washed his hands before typing his ideas onto his phone.

[ 11 : 51 am ]

directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

a/n: hey guys! sorry for taking so long to update-- i've been going through some intense writer's block. i'm back, though!

just a quick note! i absolutely love it when you guys comment and/or interact with the post, so i'd really appreciate if you do <3 it helps me keep writing and continuing to be passionate about it. also, my ask box is always open! feel free to shoot a question or a comment my way. if you've got any questions ab the fic, let me know! (also, i'm very open to constructive criticism!)

thanks, guys. stay safe, hydrated, and happy. <3

#social media alternate universe #haikyuu smau #smau #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #hinata shouyou #bokuto koutarou #miya atsumu #miya osamu #sakusa smau #sakusa fluff #haikyuu crack

37 notes · View notes

bangchansspicybuldak · 2 days

Text

[Drive inspired]"If you'd like then we can go for a ride,

tryna get you outta my mind [Bang Chan]

[Fanfiction] but then who'd ride my bike."

(The lines are made up by me)

[𝑓𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛]‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚. greetings!

thenightsoftingles 𝓃𝒾𝒶™𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ at your

service! [또 속아버린 아픔] 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[Kiss me or leave me] now-

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ loading... ↻

Welcome!

"Where I choose your pace and you ride." -inspired by drive, 2005 vibes.

[Half written prompt that I actually don't think I will ever complete <3]

What can you expect:- Thrill, Smut, rough sex imagination (?), Riding bike on a full speed, Police and legal laws are non-existent [still not prescribed to take the risk kids.]

Word count:- ~900 (?) words

Chapter(s):- 1/1

━━━━━━━━

Ride or Die

The thrill thrums in your veins.

You live among stars, night vision of city passes like millions of bulbs, and you'd hope nothing but a good fuck to go with it.

Other bike tallies you over your speed, and you grin beneath your helmet. Loser Tron, always showing off.

You troll behind him, whooping and laughing. The crisp air touches your clad leather skin when you pass by him.

Freedom.

This is your freedom. A little adventurous, a high bet on danger but so fucking thrilling. It takes you on a little chase for getting high on adrenaline.

It helps you groom the reputation that you've built up.

Rumour spreads like fire, and it burns the whole forest. That's how you find yourself in; a lot of risk.

For a while you make rounds, your friends poaching each other, laughing and mocking trails of circles to play chase.

You signal to stop for a rest, and they signal back, indicating that they're not yet ready to take a break. You zoom your bike off in the tunnel, your secret deserted hide-out.

Usually you and your mates hung out here, typically trying to not to get drunk, and since you opted to time-out, you'd expected to be alone. At the least you didn't expected to run into someone you recognize, someone like him.

You remove your helmet, a little confuse how he find out your secret hide-out.

But your attention span is short-term, and you are distracted– because how the fuck can you focus— the only light source darkens something already so dark and intense.

He stands there, arms crossed over his bulging chest over the Supreme white shirt.

You see his gaze lingering on your figure, critically tracing down the outfit, then it skitters over each directions of your curves when your come up from your cat-like posture to lean back, turning off your bike and crossing off it to land on the ground again, still feeling the vibrations beneath your feet.

You see his jaw tick, as if you're the one testing him.

You still think that there is something so sexy about this transfer student.

The Australian innocent puppeteer from your college. A lad who smiles so big that his dimples shoots thousands of women to be his whatever— a one night stand, Hooker, be his maid, or anything, really.

Last summer he changed his hair blonde.

You can take him right now, just get rid of his flared tight black jeans and ride him, or make him bend you and fuck you from behind.

Hell, Fuck it if someone catches you both blowing off the steam.

You'd want nothing to tug his hair roughly, bite down the column of his throat and grind on his thigh and talk dirty in his ears. You can force yourself to stop in order to stop him from cumming inside you and you would cum multiple time until you're satisfied, ruining his shiny black leather jacket. Because that fucking Jacket has started to appear with his usual outfit a lot these day. And him being jacked doesn't help.

"Whatcha doin' here, good little college boy?" Another fucking reason you want to ride him, because at your statement he blushes.

He blushes and then his gaze turns to the ground, now studying the trash the tunnel has been littered with.

So much of shying when he literally checked you out with his eyes.

His jaw still ticks, and you spoon in closer, dragging your high boots on until you reach few metres, just a little bit closer to him.

What a vision he is, if only he just lets you see Heaven and completely ruin his innocence in the process.

"Just wanted to see what a big bad college girl does in her free time."

If you were turned on, that'd had been quite a problem for managing your sticky leather pants. Because "big bad girl" is what you hear in your ears when he thrusts inside you in one go, no forwarnings. Making you to chase it, to earn it, take it.

Yes, Guts, he does has some guts.

You'd have taken him down if he was one of your one-night stand.

You chuckle as his eyes narrows on yours again.

Right, all the bullshit of being a heartbreaker and a good hooker.

You'd have heard worst from time to time, and fuck, as if that'd define how you want to operate.

"Enjoyed seeing me ride, huh, little good boy? Wish you could've seen riding me something else?" You tug in closer and you see his little freckles that disappears beneath his shirt, a smirk competitively plastered on your lips as his eyes double-takes your bloody red lips.

"What, got too bored with your other nerdy girlfriends and decided to try something new?" You whisper in a slippery, honeyed tone, pressing chest-to-chest.

He'd have chosen a bad target if he came to you to seek any good company.

Bang 'Christopher' Chan.

So much for the innocent English name.

#writing #bang chan #skz #fanfic #smut #ao3 writer #drive #bang chris #stray kids #biker girl #writeblr #fandom

5 notes · View notes

rriavian · 3 months

Note

I saw the "Soft™ fic prompt meme" and couldn't resist: may I ask you 10 or 18 for Morpheus and little Orpheus? I adored "Delicate Negotiations" and the way you wrote them <3

Thank you so much for this prompt! I loved writing 'Delicate Negotiations' so I'm really happy that you enjoyed how I write these two :) Writing this fic was just as fun so I hope you like it!

This grew to be a little longer than expected, so here is the link to it on ao3: Lead the Way

When they reached the first set of traffic lights Orpheus wanted to be the one to press the button.

The crossing itself was approximately three minutes away from his school. The road immediately outside of the building had never been a problem, was manned by a very diligent woman—look dad! It’s the lollipop lady!—and they had never needed to worry about the safety of crossing there. Her presence reliable even an hour after school had ended; not only for the winter months when it was darker than usual, a familiar face all year round, there even when the after school activities Orpheus enjoyed resulted in a later pick up. Once they ventured further they had no such assistance, no crowd to follow either, the peace of nearly empty streets theirs to enjoy.

There was a chill in the air.

Winter made clear its presence in this crispness, in the fog it made of their breath. In such a season most of the other parents preferred to travel home by car but Dream had always enjoyed walking. Even the cold had beauty. He found the time spent outdoors invigorating, found an additional benefit in how it was a far more useful tool in which to teach Orpheus, an immeasurable value found in a practical lesson.

The hour was edging into late afternoon, the evening making a greeting of a farewell, the sun slipping low in the sky. It was not yet out of sight, an amber glow across the horizon, but it was already beginning to get dark. There was shade setting into the brick of nearby houses, a hint of shadow that would soon unfold far more rapidly. They should be home before then. The traffic lights at this first stop were currently red, cars zooming past while they stood on the pavement, a rush of sound made by both tires and engine.

Orpheus was looking expectantly towards the button that would signal the traffic lights to change.

After a moment he glanced back, peered up at Dream, a wordless request that nonetheless made his intent clear. Though they had come to a stop Dream had not yet moved towards it, and so now he nodded. Orpheus had to let go of his hand to reach up and press the button, a moment where he stood alone, Dream still in reach but a new distance in how he was a moment away. Once done he looked back for approval—unmoving until he saw his father’s small smile—and then Orpheus very seriously took hold of Dream’s hand once again.

“Remember that we must wait for the light to turn green,” Dream said solemnly.

His son’s stoicism withdrew in favour of excitement; an elated smile extending right up into his eyes, proud to demonstrate his knowledge of these steps. “Then we cross!!”

“Yes.” Dream nodded.

They waited patiently, crossed when the lights changed and they heard a familiar beeping sound, turned left, reached another corner and then turned right.

The streets were still empty, but an observer might have seen two figures dressed in warm winter clothes, one small, one tall, linked by a hand reaching down while another reached up. A calibration of two different gaits; two smaller steps for every larger one, so easy to misalign, yet there was care in how they both kept pace with each other as they walked.

Dream was carrying his son’s school bag.

The shoulder strap hold carefully in a slim hand. Next to him Orpheus wore a soft knit hat covering his brown curls, the wool a deep, ocean blue, while Dream had a black scarf tucked into his equally dark coat. There had been a brief disagreement over gloves—my son your hands will get cold—but Orpheus had eventually agreed to put them on after some gentle persuasion. Well, it had been more of a reminder really, a casual comment made at just the right moment. After all, those gloves had been a gift from Calliope, and wouldn’t she like to know how well they fit?

It had granted him a pause. Then a nod. Orpheus had been swayed by mention of his mother, had flexed his fingers in the soft gloves, had shyly commented that they kept his fingers very warm.

He had wanted to be able to tell her that.

Orpheus would be able to prove it once they arrived home. They took another left, followed the road straight, and the next time they stopped Dream was sure to do so a fair bit away from the edge of the curb. It was as usual, his choice of position deliberate to demonstrate the correct place to stand.

He looked down at his son.

“May I press the button this time?”

Orpheus tilted his head up, met Dream’s eyes, a pale face framed by his ocean blue hat, thoughtful as he took a moment to consider the request. His nose was starting to turn a little red from the cold, which made Dream frown, already considering how to ensure his son was warm enough when he took him to school tomorrow. Perhaps he could persuade him to wear his own scarf…

“Alright.” Orpheus was chewing on his lip when he replied. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Dream smiled. “Thank you.”

He pressed the button.

“Need to wait for the green man.” Orpheus said seriously once it lit up. “Then we can go.”

After a minute or so it turned green.

And off they went again.

From then on they preceded to take it in turns to press the button—Orpheus very graciously making the allowance, strictly keeping track of who had gone last—and soon enough they reached the part of their journey where they’d be crossing roads without the assistance of any more traffic lights. As before Dream led them to a stop, now locating a section of the curb that was safest to attempt a crossing, finding a place where the lip of the pavement dipped flat to the road. It was a familiar part of their journey; Orpheus was eagle eyed as ever, critically surveying the opposite side of the road, sizing the distance. The path to reach it was filled with peril, a danger so very real, perhaps mundane for those used to such things but even then this would still be hazardous.

It was a mighty enemy for one so small.

Dream approved of his son’s seriousness. “Now little muse, what do we do here?”

“We look left and right, then repeat, and we can only cross once the road is clear.” Orpheus replied promptly, repeating words he’d been told in a tone that was very matter of fact. The understanding wasn’t empty though.

“Good. Do you wish to decide when we go?”

Orpheus nodded in quiet determination. “I can do it.”

The question had been an honest one, the choice had been a real thing offered, and though he’d not have been disappointed Dream was still pleased Orpheus felt confident enough to attempt this alone. His little face looked left and right, carefully watching the cars driving past, waiting for a gap in the traffic so that they could cross. It wasn’t quite rush hour yet, but it was still busy, and so the vehicles were coming quite quickly without much of a space in between. The hour meant it unlikely many motorists would be willing to slow down to allow them to cross. The task required endurance; it was not a time of year that made waiting easy, there was still that chill in the air, winter nipping at exposed skin with icy teeth.

It was the sort of cold that sank, that was felt more deeply the longer they both stood still. But Orpheus was patient. He didn’t fall prey to the temptation to rush, to ignore a risk, and soon there was a lull in the traffic sufficient for them to cross.

“Now.”

“Very good.” Dream approved as they crossed the road, sure to give praise when it was due, it important for his son to know that he’d done well. He asked his question when they reached the other side. “Are you pleased?”

There was no hesitation in how Orpheus nodded. “It’s not so scary anymore.”

“Then soon we can move to the next stage of learning.” Dream kept his tone soft, not tentative but mindful of potentially unsteady ground. “I will cross first and you will follow.”

Orpheus tightened his grip on Dream’s hand.

It seemed a reflex.

“I suppose.” His voice was tight with anxiety, a fear he didn’t see a need to hide, faith instead that Dream would soothe it now it’d been revealed. “Not today though?”

Dream shook his head, squeezed his son’s gloved hand gently. “No, little muse. Not today.”

“That’s ok then.”

The reassurance perked Orpheus up in a manner that was quite encouraging. His tone already lightened, no sign of anxiety now, the insecurity real but easily put away. This must not be a deep fear then. Orpheus relaxed, his grip on Dream’s hand loosened, holding on but not clinging as if he thought it likely that Dream was about to let go. They once again took it in turns to lead the crossings, took turns to choose the place to cross too, Orpheus easily taking them to the curved segments of pavement that were intended for that very purpose. Their practise had paid off, Orpheus was patient each time, was confident, his grip on Dream's hand so relaxed as to be almost absent. So familiar to be unconscious. He was soon humming to himself as they walked—a tune Dream recognised, a familiar song from an advertisement they had seen on television—continuing as they crossed the last few roads before they arrived at their home.

Above the sky went the way of rust.

Sunlight was fading fast, but that was alright, Dream had been correct that they would make it back before evening fell and the streetlamps took their turn to light the way. As they turned the last corner Orpheus stopped humming, began to sing the rhyme instead; his voice clear, beautiful, a talent to be sure but Dream’s son sang for joy not recognition.

“Though you know the road well, Still you never can tell You’ve got to be wise You can be surprised On the roads near home… Stop, think, and go.”

A big breath, a giggle, and then—

“Ooo-ooo-ooo!”

In the lull between the lines Orpheus looked up expectantly. His brown eyes bright, a wide grin beaming across his small face like light shining, like streetlights in the darkness, like the full bloom of midday. Dream smiled softly, heeding the unspoken request to join in, and they sang the last bit together—

“Ooo-ooo-ooo.”

(From this prompt list.)

#prompt fic #dream of the endless #the sandman #Orpheus #human au #Dream & Orpheus #fluff #no spoilers

6 notes · View notes