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#I also think I need to drop the archive it eats up too much time and energy

foggynitefic · 2 months

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Drop Them Bones Chapter 9: Hard and Fast

This one's a doozy...

Hard and Fast

To be sure of, without a doubt, without debate History: In seafaring times, the term ‘hard and fast’ was used to describe a vessel that was beached on land and unable to be moved. [Don’t lie. Absolutely none of us thought it meant that. None of us.]

So, funny thing. Since posting Chapter 8, I had a wonderful long weekend in Manhattan, followed by the worst stomach flu I’ve gotten in at least a decade. Then, after a few weeks recovering from that, I partially dislocated my knee and sprained my MCL. Full damage assessment still TBD in a couple months, but I have a care plan for now.

What I’ve posted as Chapter 9 was supposed to be ten pages max plus additional scenes, and then this happened. So, I have 6k words of Chapter 10 already because I split Chapter 9 in half, and I’ve had the final scene in Chapter 10 (originally intended for Chapter 6, hah!) written for the last three months…

I currently have 9 more chapters planned out, but as this adventure has shown me, that’s more like guidelines. This chapter would have been out sooner, but reference above, and in retrospect, this chapter’s title also describes me in seafaring times right now…

Notes

At least I’m recuperating and back to excessive research spiraling:

If you have the equipment, time, and inclination, you too can om a gator nom. I have only ever outsourced my gator dining experience to trustworthy restaurants, because I’m happy to compensate people accordingly for their labor and gator meat is fucking expensive to have shipped up north.

I’ve mostly encountered alligator fried or in etouffees in restaurants, and if you can’t source alligator or just think they’re too cute to eat (look at them faces!), they do taste like a fishy chicken, but less swampy than frog, and have the consistency of a pork chop. So, imo, you can substitute either white chicken meat or pork to about the same effects in all the recipes except the whole smoked gator. Alligator meat is very lean and easy to dry out, though (flashbacks to straw-like fried, breaded nonsense on that one trip to Florida…) The Daily Beast has an article from 2019 that goes into more detail on taste, etc. I’m not going to link to any of the butchering videos I watched to make this fic, but if you’re interested, deermeatfordinner on Youtube has a good one.

And yes, in true Louisiana fashion, the state government does have an alligator cookbook available in PDF for free. The final page notes that funds for it came from both Florida and Louisiana, and the most approximate publication date I can find for it is 1994. Its text, graphics, and ingredients definitely look like something from the 80s or 90s…

I was not tracking that discarded crocodile and alligator fat can be used to produce biodiesel at competitive prices…

I went down a lot of interesting 1700-1800s sailing history that involved the provisions given per day to British Navy sailors, how much salt was needed to brine 100 lbs of meat, and how the brining process actually worked (floating eggs and meats, oh my!) The average alligator yields about 40 lbs of meat, so all the proportions and weights for applegators came from multiplying that by three, then adding on more layers of fat than an alligator would have because applegators can also go out in the deep sea. Yes, I know this is a fanfic for fantasy pirates on an imaginary planet. If Oda-sensei can say they’re all stronger because gravity, I can make chonky applegators.

Curing meat Wikipedia article; Quora entry (of all things) on sailor provisions; Colonies, Ships and Pirates blog; and an NIH paper with some science of curing meats; plus a definition of pellicle; and some historical pre-refrigeration context. Salting meat Wikipedia article and smoking meat Wikipedia article. And of course, once the fancy bougie restaurants start using salt water, it’s cool again.

If you don’t have a smoker at home, here’s a stove-top smoked salmon recipe that could work with any type of fish (though, I don’t think a sweet cure would really go with white fish).

How to dehydrate food without a dehydrator ideas

Making a ground oven: I actually learned about this technique back in anthropology of food, as it’s one of the oldest cooking methods that we know of, and I’ve always wanted to try it. Darn you, local fire ordinances.

Random fandom trivia: If you’re a fan of 911 Lone Star, you may remember the first (I think) season episode of a family ground cooking in their backyard and their racist neighbor being a dick about it then getting a righteous comeuppance from the team. Is it over the top justice? Yes. Is the drama hilarious? Also, yes.

They use a technique in this chapter that I based off a New England clambake set up. Mainly, a pit on the beach with seaweed, hot rocks, and a wet sail over top, covered with sand. General bake concepts and times came from here (if you can read it through that horrible font…)

Sustainably harvesting seaweed. Modern Farmer has a pretty informative newsletter I’ve been subscribed to for a couple years – It’s an interesting read if you’re into agriculture news (food-related technology, regulations, innovations, etc.) and like to know more about your food supply chain.

I didn’t know how to make sausage before. Behold, basic sausage tutorial!

Recipes bludgeoned in the making of this chapter:

I have never cooked gator meat or a whole pig, but here are recipes that sound like horrifying fun:

Whole Smoked Gator

But also, whole pig ground cooked

Kalua Pork

Alligator Jerky

Songs:

#one piece #one piece live action #zosan #opla #straw hat crew #drop them bones #drop them bones notes #foggynite #Spotify #SoundCloud

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taiey · 5 months

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tma fanon:

basira: hey jon can you do this thing for me that explicitly involves using your spooky eye powers and that will therefore drain you and make you hungry. no you can’t eat someone’s trauma afterward. what do you mean you don’t have the exact information i need yet?

tma canon: she does not know that, and when she does know she does not do that.

Could she know the price? We have no statements about other Eye avatars, unless you count Gerry, who seems to know that hospital keycode freely. Statements from other avatars don’t mention ‘paying’ for using their abilities because they’re, uh, not running low, generally speaking. Elias is exactly as helpful as ever.

And, of course, John is deliberately concealing the true cost of his powers all through the first half of season 4.

He’s sort of still concealing that, in 146? He says, you know, I got blown up and stabbed and buried alive so then went out and tortured someone. …which are all physical injuries. For Jess Tyrell, we can guess from the matching 'two weeks’ that the trigger was him trying to Know of Peter Lukas’s plans in 139, but all John says now is “I just tried to – I was weak. R-Ravenous”. (possibly because “I hurt myself trying to learn things, and therefore hurt someone else” is … a very Eye thing, and a noticeable escalation from “I got hurt trying to save the world from the Stranger/Melanie from the Slaughter/Daisy from the Buried”.)

So she lacks background information on the subject. She also has very poor intuition when it comes to the Fears; real logic is more natural to her than their dream logic. Sometimes this serves her very well, like the Unknowing! Other times… well, “So I’m guessing it represents academic isolation or something?” in 195 is a funny example of her difficulties. But it’s all ultimately of a piece with how she reacts to John’s Eye powers in season 4. There’s a sort of lurching - she’s kinda freaked by his Knowing things early in the season (and the Eye says “sweet! just what i was going for!”) but over-corrects to “By this point, I just assume the Eyeball tells you” by 140. She doesn’t instinctively get that it’s only going to volunteer stuff like “your year eight PE teacher died of pancreatic cancer”. (and the Eye says “aw, i was hoping for more than 'I… wasn’t wondering?’”)

What she does know… she probably has the tape from 107, where John was in America compelling people for information on Gertrude’s movements and growing gradually weaker until he read one paper statement and was fine. She knew she brought him after he woke up from his coma just in case and he read that asap and seemed recovered; she didn’t know, for months, that he wasn’t. She knows that he forced Breekon out of the Archives and extracted a statement from him and that seemed… strenuous? But that, if he was telling the truth, he didn’t go and hurt any random strangers to heal from it.

That seems the obvious comparison for 148, now that I think of it. (in the sense of 'obvious’ where i have never thought of that before writing this, lolp) He didn’t tell her that it was trying to Know Lukas’s plans that hurt him; he did imply that extracting Breekon’s didn’t (like that); when she says “Any luck finding her?”, well, what’s she got to compare it to? He did say in 140 that “I deliberately tried to… Know something, like I did in the coffin, but there was too much, and, uh –[…] It just hurt” but that’s framing it as the size of the request, not opposition, that hurt. A location is just one piece of information; that’d be 'small’, right?

John doesn’t say anything like “I’m just seeing what you’re seeing. Still a bit weak from my trip up north, to be honest.” and then, more specifically, “Doing that sort of thing consciously… makes me hungry.” until… 147 and 148.

She doesn’t sound like she takes it very seriously ...but she drops the question immediately. In 155 she’s the one looking for Trevor/Julia/Annabelle, not John. In 158 she asks for his normal human thoughts on various things, analysis of the information they have and not spooky Insights. [and yes those are the only further episodes with john and basira talking in s4 lol :|]

That one question in 148 is the first time she learns the price and the last time she asks him to use his powers.

Until season 5, when the price is, very evidently, already paid.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma meta #basira hussain #jonathan sims #meta #mine #grumbling #magnus canon vs fanon

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rubydubydoo122 · 2 days

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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 -> Cancer and mentions of previous child death

It’s been a week and Jay still hasn’t told Bruce or Alfred. Jason spent the first couple days walking around Gotham trying to stop his heart from exploding out of his chest. Then he beat the shit out of the training simulations– which he failed multiple times because he hit the fake version of the Joker with multiple lethal shots.

Obviously, he has checked on Jay, and apologized for freaking out, and tried to convince him to tell Bruce, but the kid always managed to evade doing just that.

Hence why he was currently stress cooking.

Maybe four dozen chocolate chip cookies, 3 batches of blueberry muffins, and an ungodly amount of chili dogs were excessive, but he needed to otherwise he would find himself storming up to younger Bruce and just telling him. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing, but it might make things difficult.

It would be so much easier if the kid just spilled the beans himself. But Jay was holding onto that god damned can so tight. Now if Jason could just… loosen the grip…

They were all currently eating dinner on the patio, because the early April weather was nice for once. Tim was also there, because Jason had made too much food, and Alfred encouraged Jay to invite the kid. Jay had also apparently wanted to invite Babs, but obviously since Kori and Dick were engaged it would be awkward considering a version of Dick was at the manor.

Jason hummed, “I feel like we’re missing someone.”

Tim looked around at everyone, “Our Dick?” His face turned red, “That came out wrong.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not it.” Jason knew exactly where he was going with this, but he had to play it right.

Dick grabbed another cookie, “Damian, Stephanie, Duke and Cass.”

“I’m not as close with them as you are, dude.” Jason took a bite out of his chili dog, and chewed as he pretended to think about it, “Oh! I know! Uncle Clark.”

Jay immediately sat ramrod straight. If Uncle Clark was here, he’d immediately see the giant brace on Jay’s knee. Then he’d use his x-ray vision, and he’d immediately make that face like someone kicked his puppy and tell Bruce.

Then the anxiety washed off Jay’s face, and was replaced with a glare, “Seriously, Jason?”

Younger Bruce’s face went blank, “Clark… is dead.”

“You mean he hasn’t come back to life in this universe?” Jason… totally forgot about that. To his credit, he was in a coma at the time– or catatonic.

Younger Bruce frowned and then glanced at older Bruce, “Not that I’m aware of…”

Older Bruce grunted, “He didn’t come back until early May. At least for us. It could be different in this universe.”

“Oh.”

God damn it.

Jay wanted to bang his head on the table hard enough to knock himself out. He couldn’t sleep a wink last night because of the incessant throb in his knee.

He gritted his teeth, “Jason Peter Todd, I swear if you play ‘Drops of Jupiter’ one more time, I’m going to–” cry. He was going to cry. That’s what he would do. He was going to cry. Who plays songs about their mother who died of cancer at 7:30 in the morning? “I’m going to kill myself and blame you.”

Dick immediately whipped his head to Jay, so he added, “Hyperbole. But I will smack my head on this granite and blame it on you.”

Jason frowned, and then wordlessly switched the song to ‘Ronan’, by Taylor Swift.

And it’s not like Jay didn’t know exactly what Jason was doing. He knew what he was doing as soon as he came down and the song started playing. God he was an asshole.

Though… it was probably an asshole move for Jay to ask him to keep it a secret. He just needs time to…gather his thoughts and figure out the right way to tell Bruce.

Dick patted Jay’s shoulder, “Want me to drop you off at school?”

“Please.”

Dick handed him his crutches and grabbed his backpack for him as he hobbled to the garage, “April’s not the best month for him. He died on the 27th, so… that’s probably what’s with the mood and the sad songs, and all the cooking.”

He felt something twist and knot in his gut. He was making Jason’s already traumatic month so much worse, and even more traumatic because he’s reminding him of Mami and–

“Jay? Are you ok?”

He nodded, “I was just thinkin’ about how Jason really is Jesus. Did he die on Good Friday?”

Dick chuckled and ruffled his hair, “I dunno.”

It took him an unnecessary amount of time to get to lunch. Not only was he slower because of his broken tibia, but crutching around had him winded. It forced him to sit with Tim and his friends, because the table he usually sits at fills up before he can get to the cafeteria.

Now he didn’t mind sitting with Tim and his friends, it just felt odd as a Junior sitting with a bunch of Underclassmen. But, they also didn’t pay much attention to him. Usually he just napped the entirety of lunch.

Well, he didn’t nap, because he could not sleep around people he didn’t trust, but he rested his eyes, and to everyone else it probably looked like he was asleep.

Most of the table got up to get cookies, but Tim stayed behind with Jay. Then he felt the table shift on the opposite side. Except the weight shift wasn’t as drastic as it usually is with the guy who usually sits there, so it was probably someone new.

Jay didn’t have the energy to check who it was.

“How asleep is he?” Oh! It was Stephanie. Wow, this feels like a crossover episode.

He felt a gust of air blow on his face, and jokes on Tim, Jay’s known how to fully fake sleep since he was ten. Meaning no flinching during sleep tests, “He’s out. I guess.” To Tim’s credit he probably knew he wasn’t fully asleep.

“Ok, you’re like a Batman and Robin superfan, aren't ya?”

He heard Tim pause, “How did you know that?”

“Your screensaver is subtly Robin themed, your backpack is subtle Batman, whenever they’re mentioned you pretend to not pay attention to the conversation, even though you are, and,” She let out a snicker, “I saw the stack of photos you have of them when you let me take gum from your backpack. They’re really good by the way.”

Jay knew that Tim was beet red, “Oh. Thanks.”

“Anywho, do you know the last time Robin was seen out? Cus people have been saying the last time he’s been seen was the warehouse explosion by the docks.”

Why was she worrying? He told her he was going to retire.

He could feel Tim trying not to glance at Jay, “Yeah, That was the last time he’s been spotted. Though, I’m sure he’s just recovering or something.”

“Ok. ok.” She drummed the table with her fingers, “Fuck, can you keep a secret?” There was a pause where he assumed Tim nodded, “Alright.” She leaned closely across the table, and he felt Tim move in closer as well, “I’m Spoiler, and I kinda know Robin. I don’t know who he really is or anything, but I’d consider us to be close. He told me he was planning on retiring.”

“What?” wait, he hasn’t told Tim about that yet, “Did he tell you what he’s planning on doing? Is he gonna stay in Gotham, or move to New York like Nightwing?”

“No. He said he was retiring retiring. Like no more fighting.”

“He’s giving up being a hero?” Tim’s voice was blank, “Good for him, I guess.”

“That’s not–” She sighed, “The last couple times I’ve seen him, he’s been…tired. Not as quippy or flippy. I think… I think something’s wrong.”

There was a pause, “Now that you mention it–”

Jay picked up his head, “Ya know Barney, if you were really this worried, you coulda called.”

Stephanie’s eyes blew wide in realization– Bruce is going to go berserk– Then she glanced over at Tim, who rolled his eyes, “Ok, I know too.” Then he turned to Jay, “Jason, why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were retiring, but you told her?”

He shrugged, “Professional courtesy. And it never really came up between us. I only told B after I got half my hair singed off. I still haven’t told N.”

“So you’re officially retired?” Stephanie raised an eyebrow, “I would’ve thought you’d make your last appearance as Robin special.”

“Technically, I have two and a half more weeks, but, uh, seeing as…” He looked at the crutches, “Can’t exactly do much.”

Tim nodded, “And as far as Gotham knows, you went out with a bang.”

Stephanie hummed, “My mom works at Gotham General and has been talking about this kid who’s apparently obsessed with Robin. Apparently she tells the other kids stories about him. Maybe you can make that your last appearance. I can come too if ya want.”

Jay smiled, “That sounds like a good idea. Is the kid gonna be there this weekend?”

“I’ll ask my mom and get back ta ya on that.”

Jay looked at Tim, “Wanna meet your mini you?”

Tim shook his head, “I would love to, but it’d be odd for a random civilian to be hanging out with two vigilanties.”

Jason was currently in the middle of whipping up his second batch of raspberry meringue cookies– by hand– when both Bruces decided to corner him.

Honestly he wishes it was Dick. At least he could get him to eat half of the cookies to then justify Jason making more.

“Jay, lad, your baking is really good, and we all enjoy it, but…” Older Bruce looked at the multiple tupperware and gallon sized ziplock bags filled with assorted cookies and cakes, “I think it’s beginning to teeter on the excessive side.”

He looked up from examining his peaks and determined they weren’t stiff enough, “This isn’t nearly enough. I was planning on bringing these to the homeless shelter for easter.” He continued whisking the meringue.

Younger Bruce picked up a Robin themed Peep he made and squished it, “Easter’s not for a week, Jason. You’ve also been stress cooking for a while. What’s got you all strung up?”

“Strung up? I’m not strung up. In fact, I’m Pinocchio after he got turned into a real boy. I got no strings on me.” He started whisking the meringue faster. That was probably the worst lie he’s ever lied.

There was a sharp inhale from the doorway as Jay crutched in, “If you’re Pinnochio, your nose is gonna poke a hole straight through the wall.”

Jason inspected the meringue peaks again, and was unsatisfied. “And yours could touch the moon.”

Jay froze as both Bruces immediately frowned at Jay, but Jason only needed younger Bruce to scrutinize Jay, so he gave him the boxes of raspberries, and pointed to the sink.

Younger Bruce held up the Peep, “Peep, for a peep?”

Jay groaned, “I don’t wanna Peep.” He sat down on the kitchen stool and leaned his crutches against the countertop.

“But he does have something to Peep.” Jason added.

Older Bruce set the raspberries down next to Jason, “Can we stop saying Peep?”

Jay’s eye twitched as he glared at Jason, so Jason just grinned back.

Younger Bruce was looking at Jay patiently as the kid played with a part of his knee brace, “I’m pretty sure I have…” He clamped his jaw, and then took a deep breath, pressed his lips together, “...no interest in finding a partner of any sorts.” He held up little jazz hands, “I’m Aro/Ace.”

Jason set his forehead down on the countertop, and banged it once, “That’s… not what I wanted him to tell you. I did not mean to out him.”

Younger Bruce ruffled Jay’s hair, “Either way I’m proud of you, Jason.” Bruce gave him a small smile, and Jay leaned in closer. “Ok, so you’re pretty sure you have what?”

Jay looked up at Bruce, “A new Robin I would like to pass the mantle to. I’m also planning on telling Dick when I visit him next week.”

Jason made a buzzer noise, “Nope, Try again.”

Jay scowled, cracking his fingers,“I also might’ve told Stephanie Brown that I was Robin.”

Younger Bruce frowned, “You what?”

“Bruce, I think she’s a really good person, and I trust her.”

Older Bruce cleared his throat, “It takes us some time, but we trust her too. In our timeline, she becomes Robin for a brief period of time, and she’s currently Batgirl.”

“I was actually debating on making her Robin. I guess she’ll be the backup if Tim says no.” He turned back to younger Bruce,“She’s a good person. We’re also planning on visiting the kids in Gotham General as Robin and Spoiler this weekend.”

Jason paused, “The kids who… have been affected by rogue attacks, or who are… sick?” Because, yeah, Jason tries to make it a point to help out in Leslies clinic, but seeing the patients who have been diagnosed with cancer is always hard. Mainly because Leslie’s clinic doesn’t have the resources to give those patients proper care.

Jay's face contorted like he ate something sour, “Fuck you.” He spat out, standing up and grabbing his crutches, “You’re not Jason Todd, you’re a shitstain of an excuse that crawled out of his grave.”

And suddenly he was 19 again. Coming home soaked in blood wondering if he was tainting his own memory. He was 18 staring at an empty grave knowing the kid who died would’ve hated the person he became. He was 17 holding a detonator in his hand; not recognizing the person he saw in the mirror.

But this wasn’t about him. This was about a 16 year old kid with cancer, who was too afraid to tell his dad about it for God knows what reason. And Jason has just been prodding and prodding, and– “Jason–”

“I don’t need a dead man’s opinion on how to live.” He crutched out of the kitchen and Jason started to follow him when younger Bruce grabbed his wrist.

Jason twisted his wrist out of the hold and pointed in Bruce’s face, “Watch the damn cookies. And don’t you dare eavesdrop.”

He continued after Jay, “Wait, Jason, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jay started hopping up the stairs, “I– Don’t– want– to–” He almost missed the step, but he landed on his bad leg to regain his balance. Jason supported him by the armpits and slowly lowered him to the ground before he could go crashing down.

Jay’s eyes began to water and face screwed up. He punched Jason in the chest, which hurt, but he stayed still as Jay attempted to get back up, but failed. He punched him again, “I hate you!” It could probably be heard from every point in the manor, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Each hate was reinforced with a punch, each one with less power behind it, until Jay was sobbing into his chest, “I want them here. Why aren’t they here? I just want Mami and Papi.”

Jason felt his eyes start to burn as he wrapped his arms around the kid.

“And I-I love Bruce and Alfred, but I want them. I miss them. I-I need– I needed them.”

Jason nodded, trying to figure out something to say, but he couldn’t. His heart had crept into his throat and was squeezing his vocal chords.

He… He needs to be a real adult and tell Bruce. None of the sideways routes to get Jay to spill. He has to be direct.

After Jay stopped crying, Jason made sure he got up the stairs safely and went back down to the kitchen where younger Bruce looked like he was having a crisis and older Bruce was staring at the cookies. He would’ve laughed at the sight if it weren’t for the circumstances.

“Bruce, Jay–”

Bruce picked up his head so fast, he probably got whiplash, “You died?”

“Yes. But Jason–”

“Died, as in, your heart stopped.”

“Yeah, but that’s not important–”

“Not important? Jason you died.”

Jason blinked, “Yeah, but you’re focusing on the wrong thing here. Jason–”

“I do not think I am focusing on the wrong thing. Why are you so calm about this?”

He groaned, “It happened like… eight years ago. This body doesn’t even have any of the same cells as the one that was buried–”

“Buried?”

Jason threw his hands in the air, “Whadaya think Bruce did with my body? Kept it on a table for six months?”

“Six months? I thought your heart just stopped, and then CPR! How–”

“Oh so you accept Superman coming back, no problem, but when it’s me, suddenly it’s impossible.”

“He’s Kryptonian! And you–” Bruce buried his face in his hands, “you would’ve been… you wouldn’t have known–”

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal when Jason–”

Bruce uncovered his face, leaving only bafflement, “Am I not allowed to be distraught over my son dying?”

“Yes! You’re allowed to be! But I am not your son. Your son ha–”

“But you are my son! Doesn’t matter what universe. In every universe you exist, I will always see you as my son, and I will always want the best for you–”

“It never ends well for me!” His voice cracked on the last word.

Bruce frowned and took a step forward, “What– what do you mean by that?”

“Fuck.” He ran his hand down his face, “You’re watering the wrong plant.”

That seemed to snap Bruce out of his state of distraught, sending him out of the kitchen.

Jason went back behind the counter to pipe more meringue roses, but found himself just staring at the tray.

He couldn’t even tell him.

He literally took over the Gotham drug trade before he could legally drink, and he couldn’t tell a father that his son had a tumor.

“Jason, are you alright?”

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in, “I just hate April.”

Bad news is, Bruce definitely knows something’s wrong and is very much doing his hovering but in the Batman way– thing.

Good news is, because Jay dropped the Dead-Jason bomb, he was hovering around Jason and not Jay.

Bad news is, Jay feels super guilty for all the things he said to him, especially considering he stayed with him while he was having his episode, and even though he’s been a complete ass about it, he still hasn’t told Bruce or Alfred about the tumor.

Good news, Bruce let him drive the Batmobile to Gotham general since grappling wouldn’t work well with his knee, and Alfred couldn’t drop them off unless they wanted to risk their secret identities.

He pulled up right next to Spoiler, and rolled down the window, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Jay was 90% sure that Stephanie was grinning under the mask as she slid in, “Wait, how are you drivin’ with your knee?”

“When your partners are generally under the age of 16, you tend to realize that autopilot features are more practical.”

She nodded and glanced at all the buttons, “I’m assumin’ you’re gonna to tell me not to touch any of them.”

“Most of them are speed enhancers or shock absorbers. You can touch them, but they won’t activate unless we’re going over 70mph.” Product of Dick’s ADHD.

“Is there an aux cord?”

“Dude, there’s bluetooth.”

Jay parked the Batmobile in an alleyway a couple buildings from Gotham General. Did that mean he had to crutch around farther? Yes. But Bruce told him he can’t just park the Batmobile in a normal parking space. Was that a while ago? Yes, and he didn’t think to ask if the rules change if he has a broken knee.

“Oi, Tinky-Winky, would ya mind grabbing the cookies in the trunk?”

“‘Course, Mike Wazowski.” She went around back, “How the fuck do I open this.”

It took them about 15 minutes to walk into Gotham General, mainly because of Jay's incredible crutching skills, and when they got there the receptionist was not impressed.

“What’s with the cosplay kids? If you’re gonna commit to being Robin, ya gotta at least wear the short shorts.”

Jay gave the receptionist (Drew) his signature Robin grin, “I wore the short shorts for almost four years. I got the road rash to prove it.”

“Look kid, if ya wanna get your knee checked out for free and without anyone contacting CPS, try the free clinic in Park Row. Ya don’t needa wear your upcycled Halloween costume there.”

“I don’t need my knee–” Well, he does need his knee to be checked out, but that wasn’t why they were there, “I’m really Robin, do you have one of those TSA bucket things? I’m about to start pulling outa buncha bat-themed things.”

Drew rolled their eyes, then looked around and gave him one of those empty paper bins. He started with his utility belt, “Ok, so I have my rebreather, some batarangs, and my grapple gun.” then he moved to his right pocket, “Some tranquilizers, a lockpick, and a universal tool,” He reached into his left pocket, “smoke pellets, bat-bolas,” He then reached into the pocket that was near his left knee, “A first aid kit, various antidotes to fear toxin, Ivy’s spores and Joker Venom and… some bat shaped goldfish.” He grinned, “I also have some stickers in the pocket under my brace.”

They blinked, “How do you fit all of that…?”

Jay gave her a little shrug, “Because I’m Robin.” He began taking the things and putting them back in its place.

Stephanie stole the goldfish before Jay could put them back in his pocket, “We heard there was a Robin superfan, and we just wanted to say hi.”

“Let me check with Pediatrics.” Drew dialed a number, “Hey Ruth, I have Robin and one of his caped friends down here. Think I can send them up?” a pause, “Hold up, let me ask,” They looked back to them, “How long are ya kids free till?”

Jay looked to Stephanie, “I’m free for the whole day, but I’m your ride home.”

She shrugged, “I just gotta be home for dinner.”

“Before the sun sets. We took the Batmobile.”

Drew nodded, “The kids are sayin’ around 7:30. So that’s about four hours in each unit.” Another pause, “Well, I can give ‘em the bands, but you’re gonna have to figure that out.” another pause, “I’ll send them up in like… five minutes. Oh and Robin’s on crutches.”

Drew settled them with visitor passes, and Stephanie traded them for a ziplock of cookies, and they hobbled to the elevator, and went to the pediatrics floor.

They met Ruth, who was a sweet old lady that almost refused the cookies they had brought, but did for the sake of her colleagues, and guided them to the Medical Unit.

Jay decided to leave his crutches at the door (even though Ruth protested about bones not healing right– The bones weren’t growing right in the first place) just to preserve a bit more of the Robin magic. The brace and the limp were already breaking the illusion, he didn’t need the crutches to completely shatter that.

Maybe… maybe that’s why he couldn’t tell Bruce about the tumor. Because when they put on the capes they became close to gods. Except Jay could no longer be extraordinary because his bones were growing wrong. Something in his cellular makeup was fundamentally flawed.

No.

Today is not about him. It’s about these kids. And they deserved to be blithe. So Jay refused to let himself allow any negativity take over his consciousness. Not when all these kids’ spirits were immediately lifted just because Robin had come to visit them.

And he was glad Steph was with him, because even though not many of the kids knew who she was, they ended up adoring her. She somehow knew every time when Jay’s energy started to run low and found ways to keep the kids from noticing that.

They took a break around 2:30 for a late lunch, where Jay once again rested his eyes.

“What’s got you so tired? I thought you were off the night shift.”

“Knee won’t let me sleep.” It’s become more of a routine. Resting during lunch because he couldn’t fall asleep due to the stabbing bone pains in his knee.

“Why not just take ibuprofen or something?”

He shook his head. Even though he took it when he had those fevers, he’s not going to take it for pain he can power through. “Even if they’re in fancy packaging, I can never really trust them.”

She slowly nodded, “I think I get it. My mom got hurt when I was younger. Now, she’s…never off the painkillers.”

“My mom–” he played with the velcro on his brace, “She, uh, she had cancer. After a while we couldn’t afford chemo. So she switched to painkillers. Every once in a while they were laced.” He shrugged. “I guess seeing that at a young age hardwired something in my brain.” He doesn’t usually talk to anyone about this. Yeah, he’s changing the topic, “The Wayne foundation has a rehab unit. I, uh, added things into the program that I thought would help. Obviously it’s your mom’s choice, but you guys can talk to Bruce…Wayne about it when you’re ready.”

“Thanks Robin.” She placed a hand on his arm, “And I’m sorry about your mom.” She paused and frowned, “We’re goin’ into the Oncology unit next. Are you gonna be ok?”

He gave her a small smile, “It happened a while ago. I’m fine about it now.” He’s ignoring the fact that he was crying for her like a much smaller child four days ago.

He’s also ignoring genetics and how technically he’s not fine about it now because it’s really cutting him off at the knee right now. Haha, that was kinda funny.

Not really.

If the tumor grows too large he might have to get his leg amputated. Was it already too big? He… he hasn’t really been thinking about that. Mami didn’t have to get her arm amputated. They caught the tumor early enough to scrape it off and blast any of the remaining bad cells with chemo.

…If the tumor grew too big it could kill him. And Bruce and Alfred and Dick– they’d all be–

He stood up.“I’m gonna call B real quick. Tell him how we’re doin’.”

Stephanie nodded, “Can I have your sandwich?”

“Knock yourself out.”

He hobbled over to the family bathroom, shut the door behind him and pulled his phone out.

All he had to do was tell him. Three words. I have cancer. That’s all. They were just three words. They were each words that have been in his vocabulary since he was little. They weren’t foreign. They were just words.

Words are easy.

He pressed on Bruce’s number, and waited as the line rang.

He could say it.

Three words.

I have cancer.

He would say it.

“Jay, Lad. How’s the visit going?”

“It’s goin’ good. It’s goin’ good.” He rubbed the knot forming in his chest, “All the kids love Spoiler by the way.”

Bruce chuckled, “I already said I trust your judgment, I just need more time.”

“Yeah, I know.” It’s just three words, “Hey Bruce?”

“Yes, Jason?”

Three words. He could say three words, “I… love you.”

Those… were the wrong three words. He’s a wimp. He’s a schemiel. He’s the biggest cream puff to ever cream.

There was the sound of something dropping, then a pause, “Is everything alright?”

It’s ok. He can still tell him. He can– “We’re about to go to the pediatrics oncology unit.”

“Will you be alright? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’m alright. Besides, I still haven’t met the kid Stephanie was talking about.” Yeah, all the kids were excited to see him, but the way most of the parents acted wasn’t the way a parent acted when their child was meeting their hero.

Wait, he’s distracting himself, “Bruce, I–”

“Do you want me to swing by?”

He paused. Letting the blood rush in his ears from the words left unsaid, “Yeah.”

“Ok. I have a couple things to finish up, but I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“Ok.” Jay was about to hang up.

“I love you too, Jay. You mean the world to me.”

“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath, “Cool. Amazing. I’m gonna hang up now. Bye. See ya.” He hung up and tapped his phone against his forehead.

It’s ok.

It was better this way. It was definitely a conversation that was better to have in person.

Obviously he wouldn’t tell Bruce in front of the kids, or in front of Stephanie, but he’d tell him.

He’d tell him.

He went back out to where Stephanie was, only to find her talking with Ruth. Break’s over.

It was… It was a lot harder trying to stay upbeat for these kids. He was acting like a lifeboat for these kids and their parents, when really he was being pulled into the same riptide.

At least the nurse (Nancy) who was guiding them through was nice about it. She’d take a little longer while walking to the next room, pause in front of the door to tell them the kid’s name and if they were more shy or talkative. If today was a good day or a bad day. Then she’d take her time while telling the parents– she’d just give them more time.

Then Batman came, and Jay doesn’t know if that was better or worse.

It was better for Stephanie. Since Bruce was there she let herself slip out, if the kid didn’t seem to pay Spoiler any mind. It made guilt bubble in his stomach.

Maybe it was better for Jay, because Bruce knew him better. That also made it worse. But better. It was better.

They paused in front of the only door they hadn’t been to in the wing, “So this is our last kiddo of the day, Evelyn. She’s nine and she’s a big fan of yours. We saved her for last so she could have the most time with ya, Robin. She says she met you a while back, so– well, ya know to at least pretend to remember her even if you don’t.”

He leaned his shoulder against the wall for support, “Nanc, have I let you down at all so far today?”

“Yes. You’ve been walking around without your crutches. Giving all the medical professionals around here aneurysms.” though she said it with a playful grin, so she couldn’t be too upset. “She’s been pretty chipper all day, so, this’ll be great.” Nancy slipped into the room to give the parents a heads up. After a minute she peeked back out, motioning her head towards the room.

Jay stopped fidgeting with the end of his cape and followed Nancy in.

He gave a little salute to the dad, and who he assumed to be her older sister, who was filming. When he was in the girl’s line of sight, she gasped, “Robin! You came!”

The memory of a seven year old girl lost in Robinson park during an Ivy breakout was brought to the front of his mind. He remembers playing on the monkey bars with her while they waited for both Batman and her dad to find them. “Of course I did.” He looked back at Nurse Nancy, “Ya may not know this, but Evelyn and I go way back.” He sat down in the chair next to the bed, gesturing to Stephanie, “This is my friend Spoiler, and you remember Batman. From last time. God, it feels like it’s been forever. Ya haven’t gotten caught up in any of Ivy’s schemes recently, have ya?”

She grinned at his recognition, “I haven’t, but by the looks of it, you have.” She pointedly looked at his knee brace.

“Puh-lease, ya really think someone could get the jump on me?” He lightly smacked the side of his brace, “This was a product of my own demise. Really I’m my own worst enemy.”

“We kinda match.” Evelyn shuffled around the blankets, showing off a yellow cast over her knee.

He froze. Huh, he guessed they did match. “Can I sign it?”

She looked at him with stars in her eyes, “You really wanna sign it?”

“What’s the point of having a cast if it’s not decorated?” He reached into his back pocket to grab a sharpie.

Stay gold, ~Robin and then he started doodling a bunch of bats.

They continued talking– something about a tv show about a ladybug and a cat who were also magical superheroes– then she started talking about Harry Potter, so Jay obviously recommended Percy Jackson. Then she started talking about a tv show about gem people? And the universe? At least Stephanie understood the tv references and apparently her favorite stone was amethyst. Which made sense, because of the whole purple theme.

He could see the moment Evelyn’s Dad built up the courage to actually talk to Batman, “Thank you for coming. It really means a lot to my daughter and– thank you.”

Bruce hummed, turning his gaze from Jay to the man, “Robin has a big heart, so when Spoiler suggested visiting…”

“Wait, I gotta show you my drawings!” Jay turned his attention back to Evelyn as she reached for the bedside tray, but it was too far from her reach.

She started to turn around to grab it, but her sister stopped her before she could hurt her leg in the process, “Let’s slow down a bit here. Robin’s not gonna magically disappear without saying goodbye.” Her sister moved the tray closer to Evelyn and sat down at the foot of the bed. Now that the camera wasn’t covering her face, he was pretty sure she was in his physics class. Crazy small world. Her name was Reagan.

Evelyn grabbed the papers off of the tray and handed them to Jay, “This one’s of you and me playing on the playground, because we never go to go on the slide, or the swings and those are the best parts of a playground.”

Jay grinned, “I would say the best part of a playground is the merry-go-round.”

Evelyn’s Dad turned to fully face Bruce, “It still means a lot. You and Robin saving the little things.”

“This isn’t a little thing at all. If someone hurts Robin, I can punch them back. With this–”

“This one's you and Batman taking a vacation because Reggie says you guys really need one,”

“--You’re much braver than I am, Mr. Harris.” Bruce looked back at Jay, “I don’t know what I would do if I found out one of my sons were sick.”

“--and this one… this one is you fighting Cancer for me.”

Jay forced himself not to freeze. He kept his eyes glued on the drawing of Robin zapping a glob that was presumably cancer with the bat-cancer-be-gone ray, while Evelyn stood behind him.

Jay took a deep breath, “Here’s the thing about Cancer. Its power is that it multiplies. If I tried to fight it alone, it could just multiply and take over.” The words clawed at his throat with hypocrisy. He undid the clasp to his cape, “but if we have more people to help us, like your doctor, and the nurses, and your Dad, and Reagan helping us, and we use chemo warfare–” He placed the cape over her shoulders, blinking because the lenses of his domino were starting to fog up, “And a little bit of Robin Magic, I think– I think we can fight Cancer. Together. And win.”

Evelyn leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his torso in a hug, “Ya really think so, Robin?”

He returned the embrace, nodding, “Yeah. You’ll win.”

They dropped Stephanie back off in the Burrows, when Jay realized they weren’t headed back to the manor. They were going deeper into the city.

Bruce must have sensed his confusion, but he didn’t say anything to clarify his thought process. However, Jay didn’t ask, because eventually they got to Wayne Tower, and Bruce grappled them to the top, so they were overlooking Gotham.

If there was any time to tell Bruce, it would be that moment. Or maybe it was probably when they were in the car, or when he broke his knee, or right after he got that first fever. But the past was the past, and he had to tell Bruce. He’s held it off for long enough.

He kicked his leg, “Hey Bruce?”

Batman grunted in acknowledgement. Cape fluttering in the wind.

“Thanks for bein’ here for me.” He wrung out his fingers.

He felt Bruce’s gaze turn to him, “I know I am not the best at communicating, but I’ll always be here if you need me.”

Jay searched Bruce's eyes, wishing he wasn’t wearing the stupid cowl.

It’s just three words. He could say them. He inhaled slowly and opened his mouth to–

“I’m proud of you, Jason.”

He was going to scream. He was going to throw up. The unsaid words felt like they were growing and growing and soon they would be stuck in his throat, never to escape. “Bruce, I–”

“I mean it. I know it was tough for you, but you still tried your best to brighten up each one of those kids’ day. And you did. Just like you have mine, every single day since you hit me with that tire iron. You have a big heart, Jay. One that has grown with time.” Bruce paused, before placing his hand on top of Jay’s, “I think you would’ve made her so incredibly proud. Your mother. And your father. They would be proud of the man you’ve become, and the future you’re striving for. I know I am.”

His eyes began to burn as the lenses to his domino fogged up. No. He wasn’t going to cry. He had to be strong while he told Bruce. He had to be.

Jay scooted closer to Bruce, who opened up an arm to wrap part of his cape around Jay, holding him closer than he usually did. Like a subconscious part of him knew that Jay was slowly slipping away. “What we do– it’s dangerous. If you– If what happened to–” Bruce paused and took a deep breath, “I’m glad you’re allowing yourself to live. I am beyond grateful you’re hanging up the cape.” Bruce rested his chin on top of Jay’s head, “Though I’m gonna miss having you by my side.”

“You’ll make sure to watch your six? And not spook any kids? You’ll–” His mouth twitched into a frown, which he immediately tried to turn around, but it was like the muscles in his face weren’t connected to his brain, “You’ll be ok without me?”

“Jay, lad, I’ve been at this for a long time. I think I’ll do fine. Besides, you said you had a successor in mind.”

“I gotta get Dick’s blessing first. Then I’ll tell you. But they also have to agree, and it’ll still take a while for them to get up to Robin standards, and—”

“There’ll be some adjustments, but you’ll still be close. If I’m ever in any real trouble, I trust you just as much as I trust Dick. Active vigilante or not.”

Jay undid the top velcro on his brace and then tightened it. He has to be strong. He has to tell him. He undid the velcro again and then refastened it. Then again and again and–

“Jason, I know you probably feel guilty right now, but you deserve to be happy. This doesn’t have to be permanent if you don’t want it to be. I want you to be happy and let yourself move forward. No matter what that path looks like, or how many times you change directions, I’ll support you.”

He focused on the sliver of golden on the horizon, peaking through the cityscape, “I need to quit. Being a hero, it just– it won’t work anymore.” He took a deep breath, trying to sync up with the rise and fall of Bruce’s chest.

He had to be strong.

He had to tell him. “I…”

‘I don’t know what I would do if I found out one of my sons were sick.’

“...Just realized, this is our last time out as Batman and Robin together.”

He would tell Bruce. Just not now. Not when it’s supposed to be a happy moment.

“It is, isn’t it?”

He looked up at Bruce, “We had a good run.”

Jason wanted to go home. The longer Jay held out telling Younger Bruce that he had cancer, the more likely it was that Bruce was going to pummel him for not telling him that his son was terminally ill. And it’s not like Jason hadn’t tried multiple times. He’s tried cornering him in the study, where it just turned into another conversation about his death. He tried telling him in the Batcave, but there was an emergency and Batman was needed, and he tried telling him while Jay was visiting the hospital, but then he got a phone call and had to leave.

Not to mention, the anniversary of his death was slowly creeping up on him, and he couldn’t even be alone because they were kind of stuck in the manor until they were found and brought back home.

How long does it take to find someone? Three someones? It’s not like Tim and Babs had to build a whole new machine. Obviously, time could be passing differently for them, but the more time they took the wider his gaping hole of guilt grew.

That was why he was currently encoding a message to add to the beacon that read ‘Come quick. I keep dying. This isn’t fun anymore. ~JT”

Suddenly, a hand rested on the back of the Batchair, and out of instinct, Jason was about to punch the person it belonged to, when he realized it was just Alfred.

And then he realized it was Alfred, the person he’s been trying his hardest to avoid because he would immediately know Jason was hiding something and he would feel guilty for lying to him.

“Master Jason, when was the last time you slept?”

Jason grinned, “Last night.” Albeit, it was only an hour or two because his mind has decided he isn’t allowed any peaceful dreams, but it was the truth, “Personally, I think you should be asking younger Jason that. That kid’s eye bags could replace his backpack and still have extra room.”

Jason knew he messed up when Alfred made his ‘that is precisely the topic I wished to discuss with you’ face. “So you know what is troubling the young master?”

“I’m not talkin’ to the kid.” He felt like a stupid little kid who had just been caught and was now grasping for any excuse.

He could tell him. He could tell Alfred and then this whole nightmare would be– it wouldn’t be over, it would probably get worse, but sometimes things need to get worse before they get better.

He took in a deep breath, “Jason–”The door of the elevator in the batcave dinged, and out came the kid in question. “...Has something to tell you.”

Why in the world could he not get the goddamned words out? It was like some mystical force was stopping him from doing so.

Jay froze and gave Jason a pointed look, but then looked to Alfred, “Yeah, I do! I was wondering if Jason and Dick could come with me to visit the Titans. Apparently Roy, Donna and Kori really wanna meet you two.”

Jason stared at Jay.

Jay shrugged all innocently, “Dick said your deathiversary was soon too, so maybe being out of town for that would be a way to take your mind off…of…it?”

Jason turned to Alfred, “Can you tell your grandson that I am not talking to him.”

He raised an eyebrow, “And why might that be? I thought Master Jason had apologized to you for his outburst from the other day.”

“He knows why.”

Alfred looked from Jason to Jay, then back to Jason, “Well, I can assure you, I am not keen on playing telephone. I expect you both to have sorted out your issues before you make your way back upstairs.”

And with that, Alfred left.

And Jason, being the stubborn man-child he was, refused to talk.

“I really am sorry for throwin’ your death in your face.”

Jason glared at him.

“Ok, I know that’s not what you’re angry at me for, but can you really be angry at me for havin–”

Jason got up to leave. Jesus Christ, was he always this difficult?

“Hold up–Wait! I tried to tell Bruce, I really did! Multiple times. But every time I tried he would interrupt me, or it wasn’t the right time, and if ya really think about it, it’s kinda better this way–”

Jason turned around, baffled, because “Better this way? Please, explain to me how letting’ a tumor grow is better than tellin’ your guardian you’re sick.”

Jay paused, “When you put it like that, it sounds bad– but if I tell Bruce now, it’ll be nothin’ but x-rays and MRIs and blood tests, and then surgery and–”

Jason was going to smack his skull open on the stalactites.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and I will… eventually… do those things, but knowin’ Bruce, if I tell him now, he’ll make me cancel my trip to New York.” Jay dragged the stool from the workbench closer to him and sat down, “What if I can’t tour Columbia by the time it’s gone? It’s my dream school. How can ya expect me to just throw away my dreams? The moment we come back from New York, I promise I’ll tell Bruce. I just want the week with the Titans to be…normal before everythin’ falls to pieces.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose as his intestines braided themselves together in a knot. Why was he about to… “If you don’t tell him as soon as we’re back, I’m gonna. Are we clear?”

“Yes.” Relief flooded onto Jay’s face, “Thank you.”

(Author here! We’re about to go to Titans Tower, and I’ve been re reading comic storylines and I don’t know what lineup I want, so, I am mixing and matching, so please don’t come at me. Also, my main knowledge of the Titans come from the show Teen Titans, so just a heads up if they’re not how they are in the comics. I also really wanted Raven in this, but if timelines are timelining, she should be evil right now, so… I guess that works in my favor plot-wise, but gosh darn it, I really wanted Raven in here. Oh well)

Out of everyone, Jason was pretty sure Dick was the most excited to see the Titans, which made sense, because Jason barely knew them at this age, and Jay had the impending doom of talking to Bruce about cancer. Jason also had the impending doom of getting the snot beaten out of him.

Still there was an odd energy about Dick. Like he didn’t also fully like the idea of seeing the Titans again. Which was somewhat understandable, because Kori was his ex and yada yada yada. Also, something about the wedding not working out because Raven went evil and crashed the whole thing. Maybe Dick should’ve given them a heads up on that, but also, props to Raven. It was pretty badass. Apparently Dick and Kori were still together, from what Jason could piece together, but honestly, he barely tried to understand their relationship on a normal day, and he wasn’t going to start trying now.

They were in the elevator when Jay’s eyes blew wide and he started digging through his backpack, pulling out a bottle of cheap cologne and spraying it on his chest and the backs of his knees.

Dick coughed, “That’s a bit too much there, Jay. Are you trying to assault Gar’s nose?”

Jay raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, actually.”

The elevator door dinged open and they walked into the living room of the Tower, just as Jason realized Jay was doing it to get Gar off the cancer scent.

He scanned the room and groaned when he realized who was in the room.

Jay followed Jason’s gaze, smile immediately dropping into a scowl, “What are you doing here?”

“Kyle! Hey, what’s up, man!” Dick strode over to shake Rayner’s hand.

“Nothing much,” Rayner light heartedly clapped Dick’s back, “Got back from the Oa a couple days ago.” He turned his gaze to Jason looking him up and down, before turning to Jay, “There’s no way your five foot ass grows to be that.”

Jay crossed his arms, “I am five foot four, Elphaba.”

“Jason.” Dick gave Jay his ‘be nice’ look.

Jason nudged Jay, “Yeah. Don’t disrespect the Witch of the West like that.” He gave Kyle a wicked grin, causing the dude’s mouth to open slightly, “Besides, he’s like Rango.”

Kyle’s ring dimmed, before he grit his teeth, causing it to brighten again, “I’m gonna get dick– or Donna. I’m gonna get Donna.” and then he sped off.

Jay grinned and held out a hand for a low five, which Jason obviously returned.

Dick looked from the door Rayner exited from to Jay, “Hold up, why don’t you like Kyle?”

“He doesn’t like me.” Jay moved to sit on the couch, “If you’re asking me to be polite with him, I’m not gonna. I don’t owe him nothin’. In fact, he–”

Suddenly a toddler came out of nowhere running straight for Jay, “JAYBIRB!!”

Since when have there been toddlers in Titans Tower?

Jay’s face immediately lit up, “Lian! H–ow, watch the knee, how have the Tiny Titans been?”

“Miwage dwowned in da toiwet.”

If that was Lian then…Jason and Dick immediately turned to the door, “Roy!”

Roy grinned and walked over to ruffle Jay’s hair, “Hey guys, how're you liking our reality?”

Dick leaned against the couch, with a grin, “It’s a lot better than most of the realities we’ve been to, that’s for sure.”

Ya know who’s going to actually beat up Jason? Dick. He was going to pummel him for not telling.

Roy turned to Jason, “Puberty hit you like a freight train.”

“It was the forbidden Mountain Dew.”

Roy nodded, “Dick said something about a Lazarus Pit. He was ranting about Talia when he came back last month.”

“Oh my god. Did he say anything about her kidnapping me? Because she didn’t.”

Roy looked to Dick, who nodded and mouthed the words ‘she totally did.’

“If you continue to scorn her, I will tell Damian, and we’ll both stab you together.”

Jay looked over the couch at them, “Who’s Damian?”

Dick opened his mouth to respond, when Victor and Gar walked in, causing Jay to sit in a way that was forced to be casual, “Hey guys!”

Gar immediately sniffed, and then sneezed, looking at Jay with a frown, “Are you wearing Nautica?”

He gave him little finger guns, “It’s… Adidas.” Jay grinned, in a ‘my lies have worked’ sort of way.

“It’s… too much, that’s what it is, Brah.”

“You vaguely smell like the boy’s locker room.” Victor went to sit next to Jay, where Lian immediately started playing with the blue lightbulb things in his cyberskeleton. “I saw videos from you visiting that hospital. Is Robin taking a more domestic approach to vigilantism?”

“Sure,” Jay crossed his arms, sank deeper into the couch, and gave Victor a half smile “But not in the way you’d think.” Just then, younger Dick and Kori walked in. Minus Donna, Jason was pretty sure that was the current Titans lineup, so… Jay snorted, “Looks like Kyle’s officially useless.”

Younger Dick looked like he was about to lecture Jay about being nice but his expression turned to concern, “Have you been eating enough?”

“Hi Kori, hello to you too, oh least favorite brother of mine.”

“I–” Dick frowned, “Did Bruce adopt another one?”

“Nah. Not yet at least.” Jay carefully stood up and gestured to the rec room “I actually wanted to talk with you about something.”

Jay crutched over to sit on the armchair in the rec room as Dick closed the door, “Is everything ok?”

The concern on his face was clear as day. And Jay knew before coming that he would notice something was up. He was sure the only reason he had Bruce and Alfred and everyone in the manor relatively fooled is because they’ve seen him every day while his health declined. Dick on the other hand– the last time he saw him was a month ago while he was dancing, flipping, and singing on stage. Now, Jay could barely make it up a flight of stairs without being winded.

But this was supposed to be a fun, happy trip. For his future. He doesn’t want to think about a stupid tumor that will be gone hopefully before Christmas.

Maybe he could write his Common App essay on it.

“Jason?” Somehow Dick had made his way towards him and was now sitting on the arm of the couch Jay was on.

He blinked. Thoughts. Right. Words, “Whaddya think about Tim?”

Dick tilted like he didn’t understand what Jason was getting at, “I think he’s nice. I’m glad to see you making friends.”

“Ok, cool. That’s great. So, I’ve been trainin’ him, but not like too much, with simulations, I haven’t told Bruce yet, but I think, he’s a good fighter and–”

“Time out,” Dick held up a hand, “I think you’re forgetting to mention a couple of things. What are you training him for?”

“To be Robin. Duh. What else? I’m askin’ if ya think he’d be a good fit. Cus ya know, you’re the first.”

There was a pause, “Did… Bruce fire you again?”

Jay shook his head, “Nah, I’m choosin’ to retire. That way things’ll be smoother when I start che…ollege. College.”

Dick smirked, “So you’re planning on filling Bruce’s nest before it becomes empty.”

He tilted his head side to side, “More or less, yeah, but I wanted to get your… blessing? Yeah, blessing, to pass down the mantle.”

“Look at you.” There was a soft smile on his face, “All mature and grown up.” He paused, “But you’re not allowed to be taller than me.”

“Dude… No need to rub it in. I’m not planning on swimming through wiper fluid anytime soon. Or ever.”

“What, Little Wing? Don’t want eternal youth? Ra’s skin is just glowing. Maybe radioactive, but glowing.”

Jay grinned and rolled his eyes, “But seriously, do you think Tim would be a good fit? Cus, if not, I dunno, you can choose–”

“I think Tim’s a great choice. Mainly because the alternate versions of us seem to already know him, but also, you’re the one who currently has the yellow cape. If you think it would fit around Tim’s shoulders, then I support that.”

“...technically, a nine year old has it.”

Dick chuckled and ruffled Jay’s hair, “Then he’s gonna have to get that kid’s approval.” He slid down the arm of the chair so they were both sharing the armchair.

Jay shoved at him, “Get off! Your giant tushie is crushing me!”

Dick, like his namesake, just made himself even more comfortable, “So, are you planning on joining the Titans? Got a new name picked out?”

Jay tried again to make more room for himself to no avail. And God was trying to fight with Dick tiring, so he just crossed his arms, “I told ya. I’m retirin’. No capes. No kevlar. Just Jason Todd-Wayne.”

Dick looked at him like he didn’t believe him, “Like… no more vigilantism. Period.”

“Mmmhm.” he tightened the velcro to his knee brace.

“Are you sure everything is alright?”

He nodded, shifting under Dick’s scrutiny. There’s no way Dick could actually figure out Jay had cancer, though. He might be having the same train of thought older Dick had, but Dick didn’t have enough context clues.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m here if it’s something you feel like you can’t talk to Bruce or Alfred about.” Dick paused, “Or if it’s something you should tell Bruce or Alfred, but just… can’t.”

He could..

No.

Jay had to be the one to tell Bruce. He had to hold it together for him. He couldn’t act like a scared little kid who needed to hide behind his older brother, “I’ve just been pretty stressed recently. And I know that my workload is just gonna get heavier, and I love helping people, and I loved being Robin, don’t get me wrong, but… I can’t anymore.”

“Jason, I’m not going to get angry at you for growing up. I just wanted to make sure you were doing it on your own accord. Not because someone was forcing you to put down the cape.”

“Bruce didn’t fire me again, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Well, yeah, but also, do you want blueberry pancakes?” Code for ‘are you being blackmailed.’

He gave him a small smile, “I’m retirin’ on my own accord. I was plannin’ on doing it eventually, but…” He shrugged, “Universal signs and all that jazz.”

Dick gestured towards the knee brace, “Was it the dislocated knee?”

“Actually, it was getting three fevers in one month.”

“So that’s why you look like a sick Victorian child who just recovered from scarlet fever.”

Jay huffed and leaned back into the couch, “Well that wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Jason does not understand why he agreed to come here. Yeah, he was kinda friends with Roy, and Kori, and Donna, but not this version of them, and it is so weird being about the same age as all of them.

Currently, Jay, Dick (the younger one) and Donna were touring NYU. Dick (his brother), Roy, Lian, and Gar were outside teaching Lian how to do cartwheels, Kori was out running errands, because now the Titans were throwing Jay a retirement party, and… he had no clue what everyone else was doing.

Doesn’t matter anyways. He was in his own little bubble re-reading A Death in the Family by James Agee because Jason was a masochist and wanted to see if the comic from that one universe drew inspiration from the novel or if they just used the title.

He heard someone entering the room, and based on their gait, it wasn't Cyborg, who tended to have a heavier step, so process of elimination, “Skidaddle, Rayner. You’re infecting the room with green vibes.” Now, did Jason have a reason to hate this version of Kyle? No. Not really. But Jay obviously had his qualms against the dude, so Jason did too.

Rayner, like the nuisance he was, sat down on the couch perpendicular to Jason, “Are you magic or something?”

Was Kyle trying to condescend him? Not him, but Jay, but that was still him. Jason looked up to fix him with a deadpan stare, “Take a wild guess.”

That got Kyle to slightly shift in his seat. Wimp. This wasn’t even his half deadpan. And contrary to popular belief, Jason could be nice, so he went back to reading.

Except someone obviously didn’t take the hint that he didn’t want to be bothered and he could feel him staring at him. Back during his multiversal game of cat and mouse, usually when Rayner started staring at him, it ended with fists flying.

“Do I have something on my face?” He asked without looking up from his book. It was probably such a Bruce move, but oh well. Some Batman things work.

“I’m just confused on how you’re supposed to be Robin.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What, picturing me in the green shorts?”

“I wasn’t.” A pause, “It’s just, primary colors don’t seem to fit the ‘Angst Ridden Bad Boy’ aesthetic you’ve got going on. At least the younger Jason’s a theater kid, so it makes–”

Jason side eyed Rayner, “I will smack you back into orbit, if you do not shut your trap.” It was typical of him to somehow jab at him and Jay at the same time.

Kyle just shrugged and flipped the pages of a sketchbook, “Feels like an empty threat, but ok.”

Before Jason could prove him wrong, the elevator opened, and Dick, Donna, and Jay poured out.

“.--the Bobst library was… It probably holds more books than the library on the Watchtower.

God, it was behemothic.” Jay crutched over to the couch Jason was sitting on, handed his crutches to him, and then flopped onto the couch.

Jason balanced the crutches against the couch, “How was NYU?”

“Huge. And… pulchritudinous. In a modern art-deco sorta sense. There’s a lotta windows.” Jay was forcing himself not to breathe heavily, but so he probably wasn’t letting on how tired he actually was.

Dick definitely picked up on it, because he handed Jay a water bottle and sat next to Kyle, catching a glance at his sketchbook, looked at Jason, and then frowned like he was mentally adding a conversation to be had.

Donna sat next to Jay, “The tour guide was nice. She made sure to stop and talk at places where there was seating in case Jason needed a break.”

“Which, I didn’t, because I’m a vigilante, but I took them because a normal civilian wouldn’t have my stamina.”

Dick leaned forwards in his seat, “Sure, Jase. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Except, Jay couldn’t sleep at night. The throb in his knee was pretty much unbearable at this point. The pain was alway worse at night.

He left Dick’s room as quietly as he could– since the guest room had been built, he’d been sleeping there, but since older Jason and Dick were here, he was fine with going back to rooming with Dick. Pillow walls.

He didn’t even know what he was gonna do, walk it off? He could barely do that. Honestly, it made his tibia feel even more like a crispy sponge, rather than a bone. God, that’s basically what it was.

He probably wouldn’t even have his leg for much longer, would he? It’s been at least two months. What if it–

Nope. It probably didn’t. Otherwise he’d feel worse. Right?

Jay was so lost in thought, he almost walked straight into Gar. Who was looking at him like he’d just been shot or–

Fuck.

“I knew it was smelling off earlier… you– Jason, your scent is off.”

He felt his ears start to ring as the blood rushed from his face, “I mean I… am going through… puberty.”

His face contorted into something on the edge of worried and confused, “Jason, you smell like… you smell like a tumor.”

“Maybe… someone on the tour had cancer.”

Gar sniffed again, and slowly shook his head, “Maybe we should go sit down, and then I’ll get Dick–”

“No! Don’t tell him!” It was a whisper shout, but even he could hear the panic in his voice.

He frowned, “You know?”

Welp, there goes plausible deniability. There goes hoping it wasn’t actually cancer and he was just overreacting. “Well… I assumed? I wasn’t fully sure. But I guess, now I know.” He hated the way his voice cracked on that last word. He couldn’t even get angry to get Gar off his back on this because his knee fucking hurt and he just wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t because cancer is stupid. “Just– please don’t Dick. I haven’t even told Batman about it yet–I’ll bake you cookies or something. The jam-filled ones that you like?”

“Dude, you–” Gar covered his face with his hands, and–

This was going to be the end of it wasn’t it? He doesn’t know how he managed to get Jason to agree to keep quiet, but he has a strong feeling he accidentally manipulated him. And currently, the only way he knows how to manipulate Gar is by bribing him.

Gar took in a breath, “When are you planning on telling your boss?”

“When I get back.” He saw him glance at Dick’s door, “Please, Gar. I know that once I get back to Gotham, it’s just going to be test after test, and then treatments until… December at the earliest, and… I just… I need this week to be normal.”

Gar stared at him– no, not at him. Through him. “Ok.” Gar sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “I… I get wanting that week of normal, and I know the testing sucks, but the sooner you start those treatments the sooner you’ll get better, dude.”

“It’s just three days.” Jay of all people knew how much could happen in three days. How things could go horribly wrong over a weekend, “I don’t wanna cause him any grief. Please.”

Gar took one long look at Dick’s door, and then turned around to head back towards his own room, but paused at the door, “My mom bought a box of Hertzoggies after my dad cured me from Sakutia.” He looked back at Jay, “We can share a box of cookies together next year.”

Jay gave him a small smile that hopefully said I don’t think I could ever repay you and I’m sorry for manipulating you even though it was a complete accident and I didn’t know.

He was in a room full of a mountain of red, green, and yellow. But the colors were dull. They weren’t as bright as they should be. They were muddy, and brown and… covered in blood.

Bruce was carrying bodies. One at a time. Each of them in a pristine black suit, placing them each in a coffin. When he looked back to the pile of suits, they were all lined up, each in cases on display. Like a museum of dead robins.

It wasn’t just a museum of dead robins.

It was a museum of dead Jasons.

Each with a plaque at the bottom saying a good soldier, a good soldier, a good soldier.

A uniform too tattered to even tell it was a Robin suit. A uniform covered in ice. A red vest covered in track marks.

A yellow cape with red staining the collar. A case filled with dirt, green gloves barely peeking through the surface. A hollowed out red shirt, intestines still spilling out.

A costume the size of a toddler covered in cocaine.

Why at the bottom of this case was he still a good soldier?

He closed his eyes. He’s seen too much yellow. He’s seen too much green. He’s seen too much red.

It’s too much red.

He bumped into Bruce assembling a case. One that didn’t have a suit inside of it. At least not yet.

Not yet.

Jason was on edge. In all fairness, it was the 26th. But he was going to blame the nightmare and just forget the major trauma anniversary, because hell yeah.

He forced himself not to bake, because younger Dick had put him on cake duty for Jay’s surprise retirement party tomorrow. They’d get the tower ready while Dick, Donna and Jay were touring Columbia.

Honestly, Jason was glad for the distraction planned tomorrow, but that didn’t help him with the fact he needed a distraction today.

He found Jay in the living room, half curled up on the couch, a book close to falling out of his hands, because he was asleep. Didn’t even wake up with Jason’s approach.

He carefully placed a pillow under Jay’s head, and moved the book on the coffee table. Where, from underneath, a green dog was looking at him. But Gar’s body was angled towards the entrance to the living room.

Kinda like he was guarding Jay.

Hold up, Jay wasn’t wearing any cologne to mask the scent of the tumor. So Gar knows. Did… he tell Dick? Because Dick would probably immediately call Bruce, and thank fuck.

But if Dick knew, he would probably call off the retirement party, because lowkey, it’s a happy cancer! Party with context.

So Dick probably didn’t know. So why was Gar keeping this?

He debated asking, but then Rayner walked in the room, looked like he was going to say something, but immediately closed his mouth when Jason shot him a glare– No. When Gar let out a low growl.

Yup. Gar definitely knew. And if that was Gar’s reaction to someone about to get into Jay’s space while he was sleeping, he was trustworthy enough.

Jason exited the living room, dragging Rayner by the upper arm, as they made their way to the stairs, “Wanna spar?”

Kyle frowned and then shrugged, “Ok.”

Boom. Distraction found. And he gets to beat up Rayner.

The next day, Jason was slicing up bananas and a pineapple to go in between the layers of the hummingbird cake he was making, when (his brother) Dick wandered in to check on him.

“Need any help?”

Jason’s knee jerk reaction would’ve been to say no, but something about how close he’d gotten to Dick in the past few months made Jason hold up a banana and the pineapple, “Which would you like to cut? The bananas, or the ananas.”

That caused Dick to grin, “English is so weird. They just had to be special with their pineapple.”

Jason looked at the fruit in question, “It is pine-y, I’ll give it that, but you can not tell me this looks like an apple in the slightest.”

“It's fragrant, and an excellent fruit. Ananas fit so much better.”

Dick took the pineapple and one of the heavy duty knives, and started chopping it up.

Jason finished slicing the bananas, so he moved onto the cream cheese frosting.

Dikc had finished cutting off the peel and had moved to quartering the pineapple, “Do you remember the first time we cooked together?”

“The time when we made the sarmale mofongo fusion, just to see if they’d work out, but then the bat signal went off, so we were rushing to finish off Killer Moth before accidentally burning them?”

“That was one crazy night, wasn’t it?” Dick chuckled, “No, I’m talking about the time we were cooking here. I think you were thirteen? Maybe you had just turned fourteen. It was over that summer.”

Jason frowned, trying to remember, but he couldn’t. If this trip was teaching him anything, it was that he didn’t remember as much as he thought he did. He shook his head.

“We made tochitura together.” He could see Dick smile at himself, “You had to climb the counter to reach the cornmeal for the polenta. And, I had made tochitura with Alfred, and on my own, loads of times before then. And I loved Alfred’s cooking, but there was always something missing.” Dick stopped chopping to look at him, “I’ve had this conversation with the Titans in the past, and I guess the feeling is like missing your parent’s cooking.”

Jason nodded, though he doesn’t think he could remember missing their cooking. Just cooking with them.

“Whenever I cook with you it tastes like… it tastes like them. It tastes like Haley’s. Like a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, and coming back to the stove every five minutes asking when the food will be ready. It tastes like family.”

“Oh.” Jason suddenly had a really dumb thought, “You had a ratatouille moment?”

Dick blinked, “Oh, fuck you, yes. I did. But I was actually getting somewhere.”

“Yeah?”

“That was the moment I knew you were my family. Just wanted to let you know. And, I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Oh.” Jason cleared his throat, and dipped a spoon into the cream cheese frosting, holding out for Dick. “You’re a good older brother.”

The Columbia Campus was supposed to be smaller than the NYU campus. At least that’s what he read online. So It should be less tiring. Which was why Jay decided to leave his crutches in the car. Dick was starting to suspect something was up with him, and he had to prove to him he was ok.

Not prove per-say, just… show.

And ignore the glare Dick gave him when he said he’d be fine without them. What a hypocrite. When he came to yell at Bruce last year, his leg was hurt and he definitely wasn’t using crutches.

The tour group was much bigger than their tour group for NYU, and the tour guide was definitely giving the vibes of not wanting to be there.

Jay, Dick, and Donna, had started off in the front of the tour group when they were at the Manzanita Welcome Desk, but now that they were fifteen minutes into the tour, they were starting to trickle towards the middle.

He had run around the entire city of Gotham while he was homeless. He was not getting tired walking around 32 acres.

He picked up his pace.

A mother of a kid on the tour glanced at him in concern, and he gave her a little smile.

He didn’t need pity. He didn’t need his memory of visiting his dream school to be tainted with the fact that–

No. He’s not even going to think about it right now. He’s just going to finish this tour, talk to some of the academic advisors for the pre-med track, and then, take a big fat nap.

He let himself trickle towards the back of the group, so he wouldn’t hold anyone up. Dick and Donna followed suit.

Donna frowned, “Are you sure you don’t want me to go get your crutches?”

“I’m fine.” but his breaths were coming out heavier. And they were more than a couple steps behind the group now.

The group started to slow as they passed the Alma Mater statue.

The mother from earlier glanced back at them, and then looked at her son pulling out her phone, “Can we pause here? I want to get a photo of my son with the statue.”

The guy’s ear turned pink, “Mom…”

Jay knew she was just being nice. And he was grateful for it, for the wiggle room. But he wasn’t helpless.

He was Robin for crying out loud. He was fighting 4 rogues a week two months ago. He was doing six flips a night six weeks ago, while dancing and singing. He was carrying bodies out of a building rigged to explode less than a month ago.

Yet he couldn’t even keep up with a stupid tour guide who didn’t even want to be there.

He was dully aware of the fact that the mother had finished taking pictures, and they were starting up again.

He was panting, like he’d just run a marathon, and both his legs were aching, and his heart was pounding, and–

How much has his health regressed in the past month?

How close was he to–

He felt the blood drain from every limb in his body, leaving his ears ringing.

The concrete beneath him began to feel like he was lost out in the sea. Tilting from left to right–

Something gripped his upper arm, as he buckled into something firm. Something steady. And he thinks that firm-steady thing was guiding him somewhere.

But he couldn’t breathe. Something was in his trachea and was stopping him from breathing.

What if it was the tumor?

There was a light thumping under his hand, as it slowly rose and fell. “Alright Jason, breathe with me so I don’t look like an idiot over here. In…” His hand rose, “and out…” and fell.

He tried to take a deep breath as his hand rose, but his breath hitched, causing him to fully break down. All he could hear was the static-y sound of blood rushing back into his ears.

“I can’t…”

“You breathe every day Jay. In fact–”

“W-What if I can’t. What if it metastasizes? What if I can’t– what if I can’t go here, and, and never become a doctor and–” He let himself build dreams and he could hear the castles crumbling in the distance.

“Jason?” Dick’s voice was quiet, and barely audible. Dragging Jason back to the present.

They were sitting on the steps next to the Alma Mater. Their tour group was farther off, but not close enough to where they could hear them, and Donna was gone.

Jay wiped his cheeks, frowning, “Where’d Donna…” He trailed off when he saw the look on Dick’s face. When he realized the words he’d let slip out.

“She, uh, she went to go get your crutches.” Dick swallowed, “Jason–” His voice cracked, and his eyes turned glossy. He opened one arm for a hug

Jay’s eyes began to burn again, as he dove into Dick’s embrace, “Please don’t cry.” he mumbled into his shirt.

“I’m not gonna– it’s just allergy season.” though, he could hear how fast Dick’s heart was beating. How short his breaths were.

“I–” it was just three words. Why could he never bring himself to say it? “My mom… she had cancer.”

Dick’s heart changed pace, but his voice was even when he next spoke, “I didn’t know that. What type did she have?”

“Wanky janky bones.”

He felt Dick nod his head slowly.

That was supposed to make him laugh, why wasn’t he laughing?

“Are you sure?”

How much he wished he could say ‘no, I’m not sure, actually, I could just be overthinking’

Jay assumed Dick took his silence as a yes, because he held onto him tighter.

Dick pulled away, to look Jay in the eyes, incredulity clear on his face, “Bruce hasn’t noticed yet, has he? There’s two of them in the manor, how–how’d you get away with– did you not get an x-ray of your knee when you dislocated it? Fuck, you broke it– Is it the same one that’s been bothering you since the musical?”

“...yeah.” Jay undid the velcro to his knee brace and then tightened it. “Uh, I think Bruce forgot about that.”

“Bruce? Forget? We are talking about the same man, right?”

“Yeah…” To be fair, older Jason’s dissociation face was one of the most uncanny valley things Jay’s seen in his life. “To be fair, I am a master at distraction.”

Dick raised his eyebrows, “Is there a reason you’re not telling Bruce?”

“Well, I…” rip, stick, rip, stick. “I dunno. At first I was makin’ sure everything would be in place so that it wouldn’t be like I was… pullin’ the rug out from under Bruce’s feet.”

Dick looked like the puzzle pieces were falling into place. “So… things will be smoother when you start… chemotherapy.”

Jason nodded and started picking at a hangnail, “And once I got everything in place…I just, I could never find the right time to tell Bruce.” Jay chewed the inside of his cheek, “I was close to tellin’ him last week. Back when we were visitin’ all the kids at Gotham General. And he was talkin’ to one of the dad’s and I don’t think there’s gonna be a way for me to tell Bruce without completely throwing him off kilter because he said– Bruce said, ‘I don’t know what I would do if I found out if one of my sons were sick.’ How am I supposed to tell him now?” He leaned into Dick’s shoulder, “I want to tell him. I need to tell him, but–”

“Jason. There’s no ‘buts’ here.” His voice was soft but firm, “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to Gotham together. We’ll sit Bruce down, and if you can’t bring yourself to tell him, I will. Ok?”

Jay nodded. Throat closing up with another whimper he refused to let out.

Dick moved his arm so he was holding Jay more comfortably, and rested his chin on Jason’s head, “Te iubesc.”

I love you.

“Dick…” His eyes burned as he lost any semblance of composure he had gained. As more hot tears rolled down his cheeks. As he buried his face in Dick’s shirt. “I’m so scared.”

“Atunci te voi proteja, aripa mea mică. Mereu.”

Then I’ll protect you, my little wing. Always.

Dick called Donna to ask her to bring the car closer to the Low Memorial Library. They didn’t finish the tour, nor did Jason get to meet with an academic advisor for the pre-med track, they ended up going back to Titans Tower earlier than they had planned

Dick got out of the car and went to help Jay, but he brushed him off, “I’m tired, not helpless.”

Dick opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but stopped himself before he could

This week couldn’t have just been normal like he planned it to be? Why couldn’t his bones just… be normal, and grow how they were supposed to? Why…

Why couldn’t he just have a normal life?

The doors to the elevator opened and suddenly confetti was littering the air, and the first thing his eyes caught sight of was a banner that said “Happy Retirement!”

He could feel the twin cringes from both Donna and Dick. And, since he was an actor he had to play the part. He turned around with his hand covering his mouth, “You guys… you didn’t have to do this for me.”

But, maybe Dick and Donna were way too visibly anguished to the rest of the Titans, to just brush it off, because they had various levels of confusion and concern written on their faces.

Kori was the first to speak up, “What’s wrong?”

Neither Dick nor Donna answered her question, and Jay shrugged and started crutching towards the couch, “Ooh! Cake.”

Almost immediately after he sat down, Lian came running towards him, and pounced, “Happy we-tiwerd-mend!”

Except, she had jumped right onto his knee. Causing numbness to buzz the area before crackling white hot pain took over. And his stupid dry eyes decided they were going to tear up, again.

Suddenly, Roy was squatting in front of him, like he was a little kid, which he wasn’t. He wasn’t. “Are you ok, Jace?”

“Yeah.” He angrily scrubbed at his eyes. He’s been through worse pain, why was he acting like such a baby now. “Tibias are so futile.”

Roy looked confused, but still nodded.

He glanced at older Jason, and– “For fucks sake, half of you already know.” He buried his face in his hands. “One of you guys can share with the class.”

There was a beat of silence before Gar cleared his throat, “Jason, um… Jason has cancer.”

Everyone was frozen in place. Except for Lian, who tugged his sleeve, “What’s cancer?”

Jay gave her a little smile, “It just means I’m sick.”

“Does your tummy hurd? My tummy hurds when I’m sick.”

Jay let out a little chuckle, “Nah, my tummy doesn’t hurt. But I’m a lot more… tired than I used to be.”

“You do look weally tiward.”

“Thanks, Lian. Now that that’s settled, can we have cake?”

No one answered, except for Lian, “I wan cake too!”

He scooted around Roy so he could reach the coffee table and cut a slice for himself and Lian. And sometime while he had moved to cut the cake, everyone had unfrozen and started to move, but he was ignoring them. He was going to enjoy his cake and ignore the pity. He doesn’t need pity.

They were currently back in the guest room where Dick was passive aggressively packing his things, “Why did I think this universe would be any different? This whole time–”

“Oi! You say that like he’s already dead.”

“Positive vibes, my ass.”

“Well, forgive me for trying not to lose my mind while watching different versions of myself die in every single universe we go–”

The door opened, then closed, and there stood younger Dick, “Excuse me, what?” Then he shook his head, “You know what, I– that’s not what I wanted to talk to you guys about, and I’m going to assume that was a hyperbole, and please don’t tell me because I will not be able to focus on what I wanted to talk with you guys about.” He took in a deep breath, “How, in a house filled with detectives, did no one figure out that my brother was sick?”

And that was Dick’s ‘I’m about to beat the shit out of someone’ voice. Jason was going to get the biggest ass beating of his life by Dick– by both Dicks.

Older Dick sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair, “In hindsight it was so obvious, and I thought something was up a month ago, but I thought he was just depressed. I checked in with him and– I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t think it would be…”

Younger Dick’s eyes flickered towards him and then he frowned, “But you knew.”

He was going to die again, this time by his brother's hand. God, he always thought he was Cain. “I did try to get Jason to tell Bruce himself. And when it was clear he wasn’t going to do it, I tried to tell Bruce and Alfred myself. It's just… It was like there was always something stopping me from doing so. Either Bruce would cut me off with matters he thought was more important, or something would come up and he’d have to leave.”

“Why–” Younger Dick’s phone began to ring, eyes narrowing when he saw the caller ID, and then cut the call. “It was Bruce. Why–” The phone started to ring again, and Dick hung up again. Then it rang a third time.

“For fucks sake,” Older Dick answered the call, and motioned for him to answer.

Younger Dick put the phone up to his ear and then frowned, “You’re not my Bruce.” a pause, “Yeah, they’re both here with me right now.” The amount of guilt laced in Dick’s expression could probably fill up an entire swimming pool, “Yeah, he probably didn’t pick up because he’s taking a nap.” Dick handed the phone over to Jason.

He frowned and glanced at Older Dick. Why would Bruce want to just talk to him? “What’s up, Old Man?”

“Nothing really. I just wanted to check in with you. Are you… are you doing alright?”

“...Yeah? Why wouldn’t I–” And then it hit him, “Oh. I forgot it was the 27th.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He saw the Dicks sign something back and forth between each other– Older Dick explaining what’s up with the 27th. Minus the death part.

“I suppose that’s most likely because it’s not even April in our universe.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Jason paused, “Are… you doing ok?”

“Of course.”

“...ok… I’m gonna give the phone to Dick– Like, our Di- Richard.” he handed the phone over to him.

Younger Dick made eye contact with him and signed, Clearly a retirement party, today of all days, was just a bad idea all around.

Jason shrugged, You didn’t know.

I should have.

Stop with the guilt. Doesn’t create solutions.

“--Ok, Bruce, I’ll– yeah. Can you give the phone to other Bruce? Dick needs to talk to him.” Younger Dick made a deer in headlight look and Older Dick signed, Tell your B-R-U-C-E that you’re coming. Give him a heads up.

Younger Dick flipped him off and took the phone, pausing for a minute. “Hey Bruce.” his mouth was pressed into a tight line, “We… had to leave earlier than we planned.” Dick’s knee started to bounce, as he looked down to his shoes, “No. There wasn’t any attack or anything. Have you… have you noticed anything about Jason recently?” Dick’s eyes turned glossy, as his face scrunched up, and he looked up at the ceiling.“No– well, Bruce he’s–” Dick sniffled, while older Dick went to put a hand on his shoulder, “Bruce, he–” a tear escaped from his eyes, and he buried his face in his hands, “This… this isn’t really a conversation to have over the phone. I know you’re probably thinking of the–” Dick paused, “No. It’s urgent, but not that urgent. We’re leaving tomorrow anyway.” He let out a shaky breath, “Yeah, I’m coming back to Gotham. For Jason. He wants to tell you. So when he tells you, can you just listen to him? Please?” a watery smile appeared on his face, “Yeah, I’m ok. I’m ok. I didn’t think I would– ugh.” He wiped his eyes, “This is embarrassing.” His eyes began to water again, “I-I love you too. Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Dick hung up and rubbed his eyes pretty aggressively, “Fuck.”

(Author here, I was debating whether or not to include this scene, but yk what, I will)

ABBA.

Jason shouldn’t have expected anything else from Younger Dick. Or any Dick for that matter

It was the next day, and the four of them were currently in the car, with the Dicks in the front, (Dick was driving) and the Jasons in the back. (Jason had lost the battle for the passenger seat.)

Jason glanced at Older Dick who was tapping the steering wheel while humming.

“And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end; Masters of the scene; We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more.”

And then he turned back to Jay and Dick who were both fully into the song, pointing at him with a huge grin on his face, “You know what I mean”

Honestly, it was really fun if he ignored the impending doom of death lurking in the corner.

He grinned, and sang along “Voulez-vous (aha)”

Maybe the sooner they left the reality, the better chance it gave Jay of beating cancer.

“Voulez-vous (aha)...”

Incongruities must be purged. Jesus, that voice was getting too loud. Where’s his mind-muffler?

The song ended, and– “Is this real? Is this a fanta–” Then is skipped to the next song.

By Richard, and his little driver’s seat skip button.

“NO GO BACK!!”

No one skips Queen. He was glad Jay was on the same page as him.

Older Dick glanced over, “Dick, I’m begging you, please don’t. Please. If I have to listen to Jason belt Bohemi–”

Jay looked at Older Dick, through the rearview mirror with hurt laced in his expression, “Are you saying you don’t like my voice?”

“No! Not yours–”

“But… we’re the same person.”

“Bud… you’ve barely hit puberty.”

Jay’s jaw dropped, as Jason had to turn to the window too conceal a laugh.

Jay gave younger Dick’s shoulder his ‘kicked puppy’ expression (that Jason could no loner pull off) and Dick changed the song back.

“NO!! Wait! What about–”

“Is this real?”

Younger Dick patted his shoulder, “How bad could it possibly be?”

Jay and Jason turned to eachother,“Is this a fantasy?

Older Dick glared at him, “It’s only bad with context–”

Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality”

Jason smirked, “But Dick, Now you have more context. Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see; I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy; Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low; Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me.”

Older Dick knocked his head against the steering wheel.

“Mama, just killed a man; Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead; Mama, life had just begun; But now I've gone and thrown it all away”

Dick looked back to him, “Holy fuck, Jaso–”

“Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry; If I'm not back again this time tomorrow; Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.

“Too late, my time has come; Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time; Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go; Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.”

Jay grabbed his arm,“Mama, ooh;I don't wanna– dude… get a therapist.”

Younger Dick looked between Older Dick and Jay, “Am I missing something?”

Jason shrugged, “I see a little silhouetto of a man; Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?”

Jay… was going to throw up. He was going to puke. Yeah, the car ride was a great distraction, but as soon as the Gotham air hit, it was like a tsunami of anxiety decided to wash him clean.

Alfred met them in the garage, where Dick (his brother) immediately wrapped him in a hug, “Master Dick, it’s lovely to see you.”

“Yeah, Alfie, you too.”

Jay tried to crutch past the two, but Alfred obviously noticed, “Ah, Master Jason. Master Bruce wishes to speak with you in the library.”

He was going to scream. He was going to scream. He was going to scream. “Oh. Not the study?’

“He specifically requested the library.”

A place where he would be comfortable. Does Bruce know something was up? “Ok.” He glanced at Dick, who gave him a pressed smile and followed him to the library.

And there Bruce was waiting on the couch. With his look of concern slightly masked, “Hello boys.” he was sitting on the corner of the couch, so that Jay could sit closer or farther from him if need be.

Jay sat right next to him, “Hey, Bruce. How was your week with Bruce?” A decent amount of the poetry books they usually read out of were stacked on the coffee table, along with a pot of tea, and some cups. So Bruce knew something was wrong.

He felt the couch dip on the other side of him, and knew Dick sat down.

Bruce moved his arm so that it was behind Jay, resting on the back of the couch, “I suddenly understand why the both of you dislike it when I only communicate like a caveman.” A joke. To lighten up the mood. Bruce barely ever cracks jokes. He cleared his throat when it was obvious the joke didn’t really land, “I couldn’t imagine what losing you would–” Bruce cut himself off.

Jay looked back at Dick who was making his ‘Wrong step!’ face.

So… had Dick already told him– no.

Bruce would’ve had him go straight to Leslie’s clinic. He reached for one of the poetry books on the table. One from “Goblin Market and Other Poems” By Christina Rossetti. Jay leaned his head against Bruce’s chest, and flipped to one of the pages marked with a post it note.

He smirked up at Bruce, “My secret I tell my secret? No indeed, not I: Perhaps some day, who knows? But not to-day; it froze, and blows, and snows, And you're too curious: fie!You want to hear it? Well: Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.”

“Jason, you have to tell him.”

“Richard, it’s what’s written on the page.” Jay cleared his throat and looked back down at the book “Or, after all, perhaps there's none: Suppose there is no secret after all, But only just my fun. To-day's a nipping day, a biting day; In which one wants a shawl, A veil, a cloak, and other wraps: I cannot ope to every one who taps, And let the draughts come whistling through my hall; Come bounding and surrounding me, Come buffeting, astounding me, Nipping and clipping through my wraps and all. I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows, His nose to Russian snows, To be pecked at by every wind that blows? You would not peck? I thank you for good will, Believe, but leave that truth untested still.

“Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust; March with its peck of dust, Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers, Nor even May, whose flowers; One frost may wither through the sunless hours.

“Perhaps some languid summer day, When drowsy birds sing less and less, And golden fruit is ripening to excess, If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud, And the warm wind is neither still nor loud, Perhaps my secret I may say, Or you may guess.” Jay looked up at Buce. “Does the self proclaimed world’s greatest detective have a guess?”

Bruce hummed, deep and rumbly to the point where Jay could feel the vibrations, “You’ve decided you want Tim to be the next Robin… because you’ve been tired recently?”

Jay nodded. He could hear Bruce’s heartbeat. Even and strong. His, on the other hand, was racing like a rabbit.

He flipped the pages to the poem Mirage, “The hope I dreamed of was a dream, ⁠⁠Was but a dream; and now I wake; Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, ⁠⁠For a dream's sake.

I hang my harp upon a tree, ⁠⁠A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt, ⁠⁠For a dream's sake.

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; ⁠⁠My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed; ⁠⁠For a dream's sake.”

He felt Bruce’s heart do a weird ker-sloosh before evening out again, “Jay… Lad, you don’t have to tell me right now, or at all, if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready to.”

“No. I have to tell you. Cus it’s been at least a month and–”

“At least a month?” Oh, that was his Batman growl.

Jay sat up, “I dunno, I was tryin’ to ignore it, but…”

Dick covered his face with his hands, “Holy… wrong conclusion, Batman.Also, this is a Bruce issue. There’s no one to punch, ok?” He crossed his arms over his chest and sank down into the couch, looking Jay in the eye, then to Bruce, then at Jay’s knee.

He continued flipping through the book, “I’ve been, uh, I’ve been thinkin’ about my mom recently. Kinda because I didn’t realize how many of her mannerisms I have until seein’ ‘em in other Jason. And he’s hers in the ways that count, but he wasn’t even born of her womb.” He cringed at that phrasing, “Not like I was.” He looked up from the page he landed on, tracing the design of the rug with his foot, “Remember when I got that first really bad fever? And then another one and then another one? I– I didn’t want to– I–” He cut himself off as his throat began to close up.

He already cried in front of Dick, which was bad enough. He had to be strong about this. For Bruce.

He looked back at the page, “I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone; Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears; Look right, look left, I dwell alone; I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd with grief; No everlasting hills I see; My life is in the falling leaf:O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk: Truly my life is void and brief; And tedious in the barren dusk; My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see: Yet rise it shall—the sap of Spring;” He took in a deep breath, “Gar basically confirmed it when I saw him, but I kinda knew before.”

Three words.

He could say them.

Dick grabbed his hand.

I…” He felt his lips start to pull down, so he bit the side of his cheek, and looked Bruce in the eyes. And he knew that look. Bruce had put it together, but was just waiting for him to actually say it. To confirm.

And–

His eyes started to burn, “Dad.”

His vision was too blurry to actually see Bruce’s reaction, but he felt his arms engulf him. He heard his heart against his ear. He felt his hand smooth out the curls on the nape of his neck.

“We’ll figure this out, Jason. I promise.” Bruce murmured, “I promise.”

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #new teen titans #garfield logan #roy harper #lian harper #koriand'r #starfire #cyborg #kyle rayner #donna troy #robin jason todd

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questionablequeeries · 1 year

Text

Somebody To Love by Queen

Steve’s days were a circle of bullshit (you’re bullshit). He forced himself from bed and did up his hair as if to maintain an air of his former glory, barely able to look at himself in the mirror without glaring at his own reflection, staggered to work, plastered a smile on his face for his friends, rinse and repeat. Day in and day out, and nobody saw that he was dying little by litt-

“You look like shit.”

“…Excuse me?” Steve blinked out of his stupor, adjusting that bullshit (you’re bullshit) little sailor hat. There in front of him was Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson, a man he hated to admit he was jealous of, especially after their many conversations revealing just how much of a nerd the other was. Still, Eddie never had to worry about his image or what others thought of him, could actively sell drugs while selling records from across Scoops, wore nail polish and jewelry and everything Steve was too much of a coward to do.

“No offense, it’s just…I know what it looks like when you’re smiling but not really.” Eddie explained, drumming his fingers against the counter, “Trust me, I get it. What’s eating you?”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but what came out was, “My life is bullshit.” He was expecting an eye roll, a proclamation that he had rich parents, a big house, all the parties he’d ever want to throw, so why was he compl- a finger flicked his forehead, pulling a sound of confusion.

“Steve, I come over here every day to eat ice cream and talk to you.” Eddie crossed his arms, “Not once have I ever heard you say something good about yourself! In fact, your favorite pastime seems to be shittalking yourself!” He let out a soft huff that reminded Steve of an angry kitten, “You have people who genuinely seem to care about you, you’re absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful,” Wait, what? “You’re shockingly smart, and you deserve to be happy.”

“Eddie, that’s…nice and everything, but flattery won’t get you extra sprinkles.” Steve was trying to deflect now.

“I watch you every day, striking out with people who you know wouldn’t make you happy.” Eddie refused to allow the distraction, “You…Do you really think you’re not worthy of genuine, true love?” He didn’t wait for an answer, “You’ve already surrounded yourself with it, from Buckley to those kids of yours, so why do you not let any of it in?” He shook his head, “What you need is somebody who can teach you how to be loved. Somebody who won’t just stop because you’re fantastic at self-sabotage.” He hid his mouth with a lock of his hair, “Somebody like me.” And he grabbed Steve’s hand, scribbling down his number with a Sharpie.

Steve wasn’t even upset at the way that permanent marker had been used on him, just sort of stupefied at Hurricane Munson blowing in to shake his world before turning to leave, “Wait!” He finally found his voice, “You forgot your ice cream!” He wanted to spend more time with Eddie, maybe muster up the courage for an actual date.

This was where Steve learned just how much of an idiot and/or a tease Eddie was because he merely smirked, “I’m lactose intolerant.” And then he walked out of the store.

Steve’s jaw dropped, broken out of his stunned silence by a whistle from the window. He turned to see Robin strike exactly one line in the You Rule column, perform just about the most sarcastic jazz hands he’d ever seen, and then close the shutters. He was left to stare at the messy chicken scratch on his hand, that fake smile becoming a little more real as he burned each number into his brain and his heart.

@steddie-week is doing a week of prompts, and I’ll try to do one a day! I’m also posting mine on ao3, if you’d rather read them that way!

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #fanfic #steddieweek2023 #questionable writes

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arecaceae175 · 10 months

Text

Authenticity Ch. 21: Soup

For the request @sonaiyas had a LONG time ago! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Wild has a rough day with sensory symmetry and food texture. Time helps with both.

Warnings: issues with food texture, choosing to be hungry, issues with sensory symmetry

After a long day of clearing monsters from the area, the chain was finally heading back to the inn. Wild was looking through his inventory and frowning in frustration. His food stores were running extremely low. They had been in Hyrule’s world for a few weeks, then they were dropped in the middle of the ocean in Wind’s. Wild had a lot of food, but feeding nine people for three weeks with very little replenishing used up almost everything.

Wild took stock of his body and his mind, and sighed. He didn’t have the energy to go foraging, and he definitely didn’t have the energy to go into the town and buy food. The thought of interacting with other people tonight made him want to cry.

We need to find food supplies tomorrow, Wild rehearsed in his head as he waited for an opening to speak. The group was chatting amicably, so Wild waited until the conversation stopped before he spoke up.

“We need to find food supplies tomorrow,” Wild said.

“I could use some potion stuff, too,” Hyrule added.

Time nodded, then looked at Legend. “Will we be able to restock in town?”

“Yeah, this place is pretty good. We’ll be able to find everything,” Legend said. He paused, then smiled and looked up at Wild.

“Champion, do you think you could take a break from cooking for one night?” Legend asked.

Wild frowned, and he felt frustration bubble in his chest. He didn’t have enough supplies, anyway, so he would have to sacrifice his routine for one night. Wild allowed himself a moment to take some deep breaths before responding. He also pulled out the cube Four made him and twisted it in his hand.

“I’ll have to, I’m all out,” Wild said, shaking the slate lightly before hooking it back on his belt.

Legend’s smile grew. He winked at Wild then shifted to face the rest of the group. “There’s a place close by that sells the greatest soup in all of existence,” Legend said.

Wild’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Surely that wasn’t sarcasm, meaning Legend didn’t actually like the food. Perhaps he meant he was exaggerating. That made more sense. Legend wouldn’t be able to eat all soups in existence, so he couldn’t know that fact for sure.

“I don’t know about that,” Twilight said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had some pretty good soup in my day.”

“My Grandma’s soup is the best!” Wind said, pumping his fists in the air.

“Nope, nothing beats pumpkin soup back in Skyloft,” Sky said.

“No, no, trust me. This soup will change your life,” Legend said, gesturing wildly. Sky was already shaking his head.

Wind jumped to his feet. “How about a friendly wager?” Wind suggested, shaking his rupee pouch.

“I could use some rupees,” Legend said as he crossed his arms.

“If your soup is better than my grandma’s, or if Sky thinks it's better than Skyloft’s, or Twi thinks it’s better than his, you win. If we think it’s lame, we win,” Wind said. Legend dramatically rolled his eyes.

“There’s no way I’m agreeing to that. You’ll lie to win,” Legend said.

The argument went on as they crossed from the dirt path into the town. The ground was made from cobblestone. Wild vaguely remembered Four saying how much he liked the artistry of the stone, but Wild couldn’t share his appreciation.

The stones were all different sizes and orientations. It took all his concentration to find ones with similar enough shapes for him to step on so his feet would be even. Wild could still hear the voices of the other heroes, but it sounded more like background noise. He had to focus too much on his feet, so he couldn’t pay attention enough to understand the words.

Wild stepped on a stone that was pointier than expected and had to step to the side to find one to even out the sensations. He cringed, and shook his hands to get the feeling away.

“You alright?”

Wild flinched. The voice was closer than he expected. He looked up and saw Time looking at him. The others were far ahead. Time followed his gaze then turned back to Wild.

“Don’t worry about it,” Time said. “They’re heading to get the soup while we get rooms at the inn. They’re going to bring it back and we’ll eat in our rooms.”

Wild let the words process through his mind. He appreciated Time’s explanation greatly, and he appreciated that he wouldn’t have to go to a public place to eat a new food. New foods were always scary, despite how much Wild loved food. He was tired from the battle and upset from the wrong feeling of the stones, so eating in a more private place would make the experience easier.

Wild nodded and looked down at his feet. He was standing on two nearly identical stones, one foot on each. He looked around to find any stones that were similar shapes, but didn’t see any. A frustrated noise left him.

“You know, I’m pretty good at piggy back rides,” Time said. Wild glanced up at him.

“You are?” Wild asked.

Time nodded. “Do you want a ride to the inn? It isn’t far.”

Wild’s gaze fell back to the stones. He didn’t want to inconvenience Time, but he also really didn’t want to walk on the stones. It was stressful to try to find even ones. Plus, Wild figured, Time offered. He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t mean it.

“You don’t mind?” Wild asked softly, just to be sure.

“Not at all,” Time said. He knelt down with his back to Wild. “Hop on.”

~ ~ ~ ▲ ~ ~ ~

“Your dinner has arrived!” Legend proclaimed as Hyrule threw open the door for him and bowed. He walked into the room proudly, while Wind and Four hummed a theme Wild thought was supposed to represent royalty.

Wild giggled. Time rolled his eyes, but it was with a smile, so Wild knew it was the fond eye roll; Twilight told him it meant Time thought they were being funny.

Legend and Sky passed out the bowls of soup as they all pulled their spoons out of their bags.

“They agreed to let us take it here as long as we bring back the bowls tomorrow,” Warriors explained as he sat on the floor with his bowl.

Sky handed Wild his bowl with a smile. Wild didn’t have the energy to return it, and his eyes were focused on the soup. The soup base was a light brown color. There was grated cheese on top and vegetable pieces floating in the soup, including onions.

Wild felt nervousness tighten in his chest. He loved the taste of onions, but he could only eat them if he prepared them. He knew how to cook them perfectly; other people usually made them too crunchy or, worse, too slimy. These onions were slimy. Wild could always tell with one look.

Wild felt his stomach growl as he looked at the food. His hand hovered above the bowl, holding the spoon just above the soup.

“Wow! Lege, this is amazing!” Sky said.

“See? I told you,” Legend said.

“As good as Skyloft’s?” Warriors asked.

“Hmm. I’ll get back to you,” Sky said as he ate another large spoonful of the soup.

Everyone else agreed that the soup was good. Everyone. Legend was smiling so much, too. Everyone was laughing and joking and chatting happily as they ate their soup. Wild didn’t want to ruin their good mood.

He pushed his spoon around in the soup for the rest of the meal. Before the bowls were taken up to be cleaned, he covered his with a cloth.

“I didn’t finish,” Wild said.

“No worries. You can save it for later,” Legend said, then moved on to collect the other bowls.

Wild didn’t want to save it for later. He didn’t want to eat the soup. He wanted to eat his own food, that he made, with his own ingredients. He didn’t want to break his routine, and he didn’t want to eat the slimy soup.

Wild’s stomach growled. He put the bowl down on the room’s table with more force than was probably necessary. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed out of the room to the communal bath.

After his nighttime routine, Wild returned to the rooms. He heard laughter and talking still coming out of the first room, so he sighed and moved to the second room. He was tired, and hungry, and didn’t have the energy to interact after such a long day.

Wild pushed open the door to the second room, and he paused. There was an apple sitting on the bedside table with a note below it. Wild glanced around the room, looking for anything amiss or any signs of bananas, but there was nothing. Hesitantly, Wild stepped into the room and walked to the note.

Don’t go to sleep hungry

-Link

Wild felt a happy feeling loosen the pressure in his chest. He picked up the apple and bit into it. It was just the right amount of crunchy and deliciously juicy. Wild wiggle and made a little happy noise as he sat on the bed to finish the apple.

Tomorrow, he will get more supplies and be able to resume his cooking routine. But for now, an apple would do.

#authenticity #ace writes #linked universe #lu wild #lu time #lu legend #tw:#food issues

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lost-girl-2021 · 3 months

Text

Next chapter (also available on AO3)

Spider’s day had started out badly. None of the Avatars were out, some sort of malfunction causing a all-hands-on-deck situation. That in itself wasn’t all that bad, except Norm had insisted she stay in her room all day because nobody could ‘take her’ to visit her friends. As if she hadn’t taken herself a million times before. She’d snuck out when nobody was looking, hoping to at least do something fun before she got in trouble for leaving (if they even noticed she was gone).

“You’re too little.” Lo’ak insisted that morning, the same way he told Tuk she was too young to join them on their adventures. Him and Kiri were going to go on a hunt, somewhere deep in the forest. Somewhere restricted. Spider had overheard them conspiring earlier that morning and decided she’d be going with them.

“I’m just as big as I was yesterday.” She reminded, crossing her arms in front of her.

The Na’vi boy huffed. “Yeah, well, look how well it went last time.”

Spider’s hand went up the the scars across her shoulder, the raised lines bumping under her fingers. “That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.” He snapped. “Just— why don’t you go help Grandmother collect herbs or something?”

“Why don’t you go eat Palulukan shit?” She asked rhetorically, scooping up her bow and storming in the opposite direction of Mo’at’s home.

She would go hunt on her own and catch something big enough to feed the whole family. She’d need to get help carrying it back, but Neteyam could be bribed to help and he was good at keeping secrets. If Lo’ak asked, she’d say she carried it— whatever it was she found —all the way back on her own.

Lo’ak was too loud, anyways. Spider was small, but she was fast and quiet, minus the soft wheeze of her mask. Besides, she was older, the oldest of them all. If she was able to bond with an Ikran, she’d have been considered an adult by Na’vi standards. Neteyem was almost a whole year younger than Spider and he had passed all his tests.

It made her mad, just thinking about it all. She wanted to punch something or scream. Instead, she ran. She ran and ran, until her chest hurt from how hard it was to breathe. She ran until her legs felt liquid and her mask fogged up from her breaths. She ran until she couldn’t and then she sat and she cried.

She hated crying. Always had. When she was younger, everyone at the lab would always freak out when they saw tears, like she was dying or something. She’d learned early on to hide it when she’d needed to cry, when she was too angry to do anything but sit and let the angry tears flow.

Spider was sixteen, but she felt no older than six. Sitting at the base of a large tree, the grass itching at her legs and shorts getting slightly damp from the cold ground. She dropped her bow at her side, curling her bare toes into the dirt and pressing her hands against her heaving chest in an attempt to stop the racing beat of her heart.

Lo’ak sucked. They all did. She shouldn’t have left the lab, shouldn’t have—

Ugh.

‘

She shouldn’t have thought Lo’ak was still her friend.

Spider blindly reached for her belt, untying her songcord and holding it up in front of her. It was short and frayed and most of the beads were flawed. Kiri had helped her start it when she was six, filling in the start of her life with beads they’d made themselves. There were ten in total, marking the moments in life she’d deemed important enough to record. The other kids her age had more, but Spider didn’t think much of her life was worth remembering. In comparison to everyone else, she was boring.

Spider’s first bead, marking her birth, was a piece sawed off of her first crib, a dresser drawer padded with pillows. The plastic-like material was soft and smoothed after so long, as plain as the rest of Spider. Neteyam’s birth was marked next, followed closely by Kiri’s. She ran a thumb over the bead marking Lo’ak’s birth, a piece of ember holding a drop of his blood. All of her friends were marked that way, even though she’d burnt her fingers melting the droplets and had to sneak around to get them without making it a big deal.

By the time she’d gotten to Tuk’s birth bead, three other badly-made beads had been woven into her cord. Her first bow, her first hunt, and the worst fever she’d ever had. After that, she’d stopped eating all the Na’vi foods she’d came across, sticking to what she knew was safe.

Spider hadn’t wanted to mark down the Palulukan attack at all. She was scarred enough to never forget it. But, Neteyam, of all people, had saved a tooth from the animal that attacked her. He’d barely waited for her to wake up before asking for her cord and tightly braiding it on.

That one was her last bead. The following year had been filled with PT and schoolwork inside the lab. Norm, who’d always been worried about Spider and her frailness, had been especially hesitant to let her leave after the incident. Jake had taken her bow for a half-year, until he’d found her trying to make herself a new one. Even Neytiri, who’d always been relatively uncaring when it came to Spider, had started making her wait for a chaperone each night when she tried to head home. It was like that one moment had transformed the way everyone saw her and not in a good way.

She considered adding a new bead. Something to represent the change in how everyone saw here. Or, maybe if she really was angry enough, a new bead to mark the last time she talked to Lo’ak. Spider had gone over a year without talking with her foster parents, the McCosker’s, when she was younger, after her first (and last) haircut. Eventually, they ran away to the RDA when the Sky People returned, leaving her behind. But, she was sure that even if they had stayed, she wouldn’t have spoken to them ever again.

She was so caught up in her anger, she didn’t notice anyone coming until it was too late.

“Spider?”

Her head snapped up, eyes locking onto the Na’vi as she emerged from the thicket. “Tuk?”

“Are you okay?” She asked, sitting herself next to Spider and twisting one hand in the hem of the older girl’s shirt. The hem of the tank top was frayed, little strings coming loose where it rested against her belly button.

“I’m fine. Did you follow me all by yourself?” She sighed at the hesitant nod she got in answer. “Tuk, you know you aren’t supposed to leave camp by yourself.”

“But, you’re sad.” She said, as if that made any rules go out the window. Spider sighed, wrapping an arm around her. They were nearly the same size, Tuk just a few inches shorter than her. Still, it was obvious in everything she did that she was still just a carefree little kid.

Neteyam and Lo’ak used to be like that. When they were kids, they’d go fishing and get Ikran rides from Jake. Since the return of the RDA, both boys had been forced to become men. Kiri didn’t see action, but she saw the victims of the battles, saw people heal and saw others . . . not.

Spider missed when they were all as innocent as Tuk.

“Thanks, Tuk-Tuk.” She smiled at the girl. “But, really, I’m fine. Now, we should really get back before your Grandmother notices you’re— “

A branch snapped somewhere close by. Both girls cocked their heads towards the sound, listening. Voices. Humans. They were speaking English.

#atwow spider #spider avatar #avatar way of water #atwow fanfiction #spider #avatar fanfiction #avatar #atwow #miles spider socorro #brightside

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mckiwi · 2 years

Text

Whumptober 2022 Day 4: Dead On Your Feet

Characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Master Grimes

Summary: Stephen comes back injured and exhausted from a fight, but it can wait.

"Stephen, did you kill that Aswang?" Wong stopped him in the hallway to ask.

"Yes, it was posing as a nurse at a hospital so it could eat the newborn babies in the nursery," Stephen explained. "Also, quick question. Are they venomous?"

Wong turned away as a Master shouted his name. "Sorry, Stephen. I have to take this. You know how it is around this time," he said apologetically.

Stephen groaned, "yea, I know. The weeks before Halloween is always busy." Once Wong was around the corner, Stephen pulled up his sleeve to look at the two fang marks on his forearm. More specifically, he was looking at the swelling and redness spreading from the bite. He hissed at the sting of poking it with his finger then let the sleeve fall back down. It was probably nothing.

Stephen didn't need to have a doctorate to know something was wrong. He had just stooped down to pick up a book he dropped when suddenly his vision went black and his ears started ringing. He gripped the edge of the bookshelf as he started swaying and waited for the dizziness to subside. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, he regained his composure and put the book back on the shelf. He'd look at the bite later, he had no time to waste at the moment. A Pontianak was hiding out in Indonesia and he'd rather get rid of it before it clawed someone's organs out.

The Aswang had been killed, the Pontianak was contained, and Stephen had learned a new exorcism spell. All before three in the afternoon. Even if the sun was still very much overhead, he felt exhausted. Not just the 'sleepy' exhausted, the 'I would sleep for twenty-two hours the second my head hit the pillow' kind of exhausted. The rational part of his brain told him it was his body fighting off the venom, or at least what he assumed was venom. It was hard to think with his thoughts echoing back at him. He pulled up his sleeve again to look at the bite. It was harder this time due to having swollen so much and he grimaced at even the lightest touch. Was that a blister forming? He should probably look at that now before it got any worse.

Master Grimes ran through the halls, skidding to a stop when he saw Stephen. "Master Strange! London is facing the wrath of the Black Annis's. Several mysterious murders and missing children have been reported in the news. We could really use some help tonight."

Stephen had hidden his arm under the table the second he saw Grimes, "yea, of course. Let me find out how to capture them and I'll come over right away." Grimes nodded in thanks and portaled back to London. Stephen noticed it was already sundown there, meaning more than just the Black Annis would be coming out soon to hunt. Just his luck. He glanced back at his throbbing arm. It could wait. He quickly searched the library for mystical creatures of England and used the gateway to London.

The next thing Stephen remembers is waking up. He felt something tight wrapped around his forearm where the bite was and there was a small cut on his head. His arm had probably been treated, then. Everything was still too bright to open his eyes, but he could hear a muffled conversation somewhere as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. "… fell… get back up, he just stayed down and… arm… sorry Master Wong, I wouldn't… had known." "That's alright Master Grimes, if… he tends to… I know you're awake, Stephen."

That caught his attention. He forced his eyes to open and would have much rather left them closed the second he saw Wong's face, "I did ask you if it was venomous."

Wong moved to speak but Grimes beat him to it, "you came to help me with the attacks despite knowing you were injured, despite knowing it was venomous, and despite knowing it would kill you if not treated within the first few hours?" Wong nodded in agreement at the exclamation.

Stephen sheepishly admitted, "I didn't know that last part actually, hence why I tried to ask if they were venomous." He shot a look at Wong. "Regardless, I'm thankful that you patched me up. Though I have to ask. What happened? Was I attacked?" It would explain the cut on his head and the confusion.

Grimes laughed, "no. You tripped on the first step of the stairway and passed out from exhaustion."

#whumptober 2022 #no. 4 #hidden injury #stephen strange #doctor strange #dr strange #wong #master grimes #supernatural elements #mystical creatures #fic #fanfic #doctor strange fanfic #marvel fanfic #mckiwiwrites

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chaotic-adriary · 1 year

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Part 2 of the best fanfiction I have read in 2022. (Honorable mentions)

So this was THE MOST memorable fics that I read in 2022. I say memorable cause lots of fics are just interesting but if you read too much of something it all looks like a blur. But each of these next fics has a special place in my fanfiction-addicted brain.

Star trek fandom:

"Linguistic Ambiguities in Vulcan Ethical Codes" is another fandom legend. What if vulcans raised Kirk? I don't really know how to characterize this amazing stuff. It's one of what if's that you read and then reread because it's just that good. And also I have a soft spot for linguistics

BNHA and Criminal minds crossover

"To profile a traitor". Before this fic I didn't know how much I need Spencer Reid and Izuku interactions. Here lots of people in UA think that Izuku is a traitor (some good portion of angst here). Toshinori, Nedzu, Vlad are assholes (yep. that's in tags), and Inko acts here not well. So be prepared. And Criminal minds team is amazing like always. Love them.

BNHA fandom:

"Who said the only green thing about him was his hair?". So this fic is about a runaway Izuku who tries to survive in the forest on his own(occasionally going into town). If you like gardening, foraging, and reading, how someone tries to survive in a hard situation maybe you would like it as much as I did. In this fic, I have read that you can actually eat acorns if you prepare them right. When fics are not only interesting but even educational it makes me even happier. And also you can find here some really nice moments with dadzawa and dadmic. remembers a beautiful scene in a library

"A little luck from a black cat vigilante". I have read lots of vigilante Izuku fanfiction and this one was the most memorable and interesting. Also, Izuku here is not only vigilante but also a very skillful hacker. I really needed an inspiration being mentally stronger this year and fics like that help me. (oh, and inspire to learn new things. My shinobi silent walk needs to be perfected)

Sherlock fandom:

"Time and Tribulations" I was really intrigued by the discription. Even when I don't usually read romance fics(especially explicit) this one just caught my attention. Like Regency romance? With Watson from our time turned into a woman in the past? What the heck?? immediately goes reading.

Twists and turns, Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre vibes and sex scenes that just were so loving and soft that I couldn't just skip them like I usually do?? This fic is just crazy. Once I tried to retell it to my friend and it sounded like some kind of stand-up story BUT IT'S REALLY DRAMATIC believe me- drops mic

Naruto fandom:

...aaaand the last one. THE angsty one.

"It Wasn't A Kindness" feels like a scream. It's full of ache and hurt and rough emotions. So Sasuke kills Itachi and then kills himself. Instead of dying he lands in the past where his clan and family are still alive. The fic is fairly new and I wait patiently for new chapters. I really like to read about well-written hurt, you see? I just fell in love with the first chapters.

So what do you think? Have you read something from this list? You just like write me anything (please tell me what i can improve)

#fanfiction #favorite fanfiction 2022 #fanfiction wrapped #fic recs #bnha #sherlock #star trek #criminal minds #naruto #sherlock fic #bnha fic #star trek fic #naruto fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 stuff #fanfic #fanfic rec

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suugrbunz · 20 days

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Hey! 💝anon here.. That was me giving tips earlier.. Been back on Tumblr for just a couple days, clearing out my old account, saying hellos to old online friends. Thank you, so much, for how you inspired my story last year. You motivated me - so much!

The story finished. I adidn’t do a huge amount with Maureen & Lyam’s relationship; they had a few more moments together, bonding & learning to trust & appreciate each other. Their final moment in the story was their first kiss! (I can send a snippet if you’d like?)

I turned 19 last year (so, a bit younger than you I suppose :)) It’s been good, getting offline. It’s given me more time to do other things; learn gardening from an elderly relative, do some singing (on my own lol), spend time with my family, learn about things that interest me.

Anyway. Hope you’re doing okay and taking care of yourself, and you can find ways to make life easier, whatever those ways are.

I understand about the streaming service thing. My family usually just watch cheap second hand DVDs (charity shop sells 20 DVDs for £1!), and occasionally use the cheaper version of Netflix (with ads). I use Internet Archive (archive.org) for books and films (manly older, lesser known films), it’s free, so that’s a good option.

And totally, get away from Instagram & TikTok! If you think you’d be happier without it, drop it! People online can be really nasty. I quit looking at Reddit, & basically all comments, last year after I suffered a deep depression (due to peoples’ extremely nasty comments toward a part of lgbt that I identify with) Doing a lot better now.

IDK, and it’s not my business, but hope something works for you. The best people, the ones worth knowing, are those who appreciate character and kindness over consumerist beauty ideals (I say consumerist cause it’s in my belief that we’re pretty well brainwashed to think “perfect looking” people look good; a way of getting people to keep buying makeup they don’t need and the latest fashions)

Ahh, hope this isn’t too much, I write fast and am only basing this all off a couple posts I saw you made, so I’m real sorry if it’s too much! I’ve got a ton of spare time today so I’m just rambling.

I can’t be coming back to online socialising like I used to, as it took up so much of my limited spare time last year, so this is a rarity, just to say hello. Hugs 🫂

💝anon

i literally cried seeing it was you— i was noshing on a gyro, crying alone in the kitchen. I have hereditary depression, so it won't get better. It'll always be there. It's just worse than normal lately. Hoping it'll calm down, I wrote and edited some of my book today.

This is like writing a lovely old pen pal, ah, it's nearly therapeutic. I think of you often. I'm nearing tears as i write this because something about talking to you has felt so homeward bound. I love archive, that's how I watched the clash movie, Rude Boy! I have some unread books I wish to finish, one is kafka and the other is khalil gibran. You should see the khalil gibran book, it has such an ornate cover.

I adopted a cat since we've last spoken, she was beside my neighbours house during a storm. I had been taking out my dog and heard her meowing. When i approached her, she immediately came to me. Oh, her name is Laila, she's a tortoise shell.

I definitely have to agree, we are brainwashed constantly to see aging as a sign of lost beauty. Similarly, we are taught that our bodies are never enough because whatever the trend is— it isn't for a girl with an hourglass body. I told my mother the other night, through lots of tears i have never truly loved myself. I mean, around puberty is when confidence develops, at least in my opinion. I got bullied for my body developing into what it now is. So, you can imagine what eating disorder shit i go through because of it. Only fueled by my mother also having a fucked up perception of body-image as well. I am trying my best to understand that my value is an independent variable from the weight on a scale.

Please send me all the writing you wish to, I remember loving your writing. I started publishing my book, but it's completely different. I had to change everything; it was going nowhere. I couldn't get a plot to stitch together. I was nearly at the point of deleting it. Then, out of the blue, I woke up after some dream and was like— "what if I used tamino as a faceclaim? What if x, y, z?". Soooo, i ended up experimenting with it and i actually followed through on replacing nick (i want to implement him in the new book tbh, i miss him). Ah, i hope you find the time to read the chapters I have published... that is if you want to read them, truly there is no pressure there. Again though; please send me your work.

#💝 anon #౨ৎ guys my favourite anon is back 🥹

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wolviecat · 1 year

Text

On the way home - Wolviecat - Andor (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Day 24 of the Febuwhump, prompt "Bloodied clothes".

“Your commuter’s ID, please.”

Cassian blinked, trying to make sense of the words through the roar of blood in his ears. The guard was standing in front of him, waiting. “What?” he finally managed to say. Not the best reaction, but he wasn't sure he would manage to keep his voice steady on anything longer.

“Your commuter’s ID, or the work license from the scrap yard.” The guard frowned, clearly frustrated with Cassian, and tapped the read-out on his scanner for emphasis: “this is a reduced-fare ticket, you need an ID.”

“O-of course, just…” he started digging through his bag, mentally cursing himself for not checking with the cashier and buying the ticket from the automated kiosk. He was just trying to limit the number of people he talked to, and who could spot the growing red stain on his stomach. Meeting with an informant went a bit south, knives came into play, and Cassian ended up with a stab wound. He bandaged it as well as he could, but it was still bleeding even now, and the fuzzy feeling in his head was telling him it got infected. He needed to get into the safe house, to a staple gun and antibiotics, as soon as possible.

“Sir…”

He tightened his fingers around the grip of his blaster. He could just shoot the guard through the bag. But then what? Put the gun to the pilot’s head and force her to take him where they are already going, taking the whole ferry hostage? Or pry the door open and jump, hoping that he wouldn’t be immediately arrested or that he wouldn’t rip his insides open and bleed out next to a savage treatment plant.

So he smiled and tried to be charming, even if he felt sick and shaky. “It looks like I forgot my ID at home. Do you think you can let it slide this time?”

The guard’s blank stare told him clearly enough his charm could not help him now. He signed, rummaging his pocket for that couple of credits he’d got left. No credit chips - while it is much easier to make up digital money, they are also much easier to track. “Okay,” he said, trying to mask his worry as annoyance: “how much…”

“No.”

Cassian could feel sweat beading on his temples. It used to work like that when Cassian was younger, and the guards only got angry when they knew you did it on purpose.

“No?”

“I cannot take money from you.” With a few taps on the keypad, he opened a blank form: “I’m going to issue you a payment slip and you will pay the difference plus processing fee at the office. ID, please.”

The picture on the card didn’t look at all like teenage Cassian - lanky hair and hopeful smile - but it looked like Torm Bellos, Correlian metallurgy engineer five standard years Cassian’s senior, and his current alter ego. He held out his arm to pass the card to the guard, but it pulled on his wound, making him hiss in pain.

“Everything’s alright, sir?”

Cassian nodded. “Yes, just…” he curled his arm around his stomach: “I’d got some sourfry at the station and it didn’t sit well with me.” He hoped that the guard would be too queasy to ask him more. He hoped that he would just believe Cassian is some new guy who doesn't know the food stand in question would be long closed down if the Public Health Office ever did its job. And he hoped that the ID would actually work. Otherwise, his career in the Rebellion could be cut short by some ISB drop-out who didn’t even carry a weapon.

The scanner beeped a few times before spitting out a strip of flimsy. The guard tore away a half of it and gave it to Cassian, stuffing the other half into the scanner’s case. “The office is right next to the landing pad.” With that, he turned away, to the next passenger.

Cassian stared after him for a second, still not completely sure what had happened and if it wasn't just a figment of his fevered mind. But the guard was still there, berating someone for eating onboard, and the flimsy strip laid curled on top of his bag.

He rested his burning brow on the window and closed his eyes. He had a half an hour before they were going to land - enough time to gather some strength to walk to the safe house.

After paying for the ticket, of course.

#Febuwhump #Febuwhump_2023 #Febuwhumpday23 #star wars #andor

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neonbitemarks · 1 year

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Zavier and Casper - Archived Thread

He gave no warning before dropping down on the bed and stretching out, eyes fixed on the ceiling for a moment before he turned his head to look at his brother. “Mom and dad are having date night. I could cook or we can order cheap takeout and watch shitty movies. Your pick.”

“Take out,” Zave answered after a moments pause to consider the options, despite him always opting to order out under such circumstances.

“You’re aware I’m too old to need a babysitter, right?”

“Bold of you to assume I was ever trusted to babysit you in the first place,” he countered without missing a beat, a faint smirk tugging on his lips before he pulled up the delivery app and handed it over.

“If you pick anything like McDonalds and I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“And here I was thinkin’ about ordering one of those new adult Happy Meals, but it sounds like you could use one more,” Zave shot back with equal sass, the banter between them as natural as breathing to the both of them.

“Relax. Lucky for you, I’d rather eat Chinese tonight.”

“Don’t get cute with me, I’m pretty sure I could still kick your ass,” he teased, nudging him lightly with his elbow. They both knew the most he would do is hit him with a pillow, but it was still a fun joke to make.

“Mmm, the place with the shockingly good smoothies or the place that has the good egg drop soup?”

“I’m the baby of the family, it’s my job to be cute. Plus I don’t think Mom and Dad would be too thrilled to hear you threatening me with acts of violence.”

Of course Zave knew he was being an ass with that comment, but it was all in good fun and just the way he and his big brother had always been with each other, even when they were younger.

“You choose. I’m cool either way.”

“That line worked a lot better when you were like 5,” he pointed out, eyes rolling as he simply made himself more comfortable on Zave’s bed, unbothered by the mention of what their parents wouldn’t approve of.

“I think as long as I didn’t do any real damage, they’d say you’re on your own.”

Casper huffed a sigh, a faint whine catching at the end as he tried to decide. “Okay, but it’s technically soup season, but it’s also still warm enough for smoothies. I’m voting we order from both at this point because multiple choice has never been my strong suit.”

“I could always call Mom and you can ask her yourself?” Zave shot back with a smirk, knowing he could still just about get away with playing that card even now, since even though he was pretty much an adult now, JJ was still prone to making a fuss over him from time to time.

“Both gets my vote, although I would argue that soups and smoothies are basically on opposite ends of the same spectrum. Y’know, ‘cause one is hot, chunky and made with vegetables, while the other is cold, blended and made from fruit.”

#zavier:thread #zavier:casper:001 #They're Greek Jim

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edith-hyde · 2 years

Text

Norman Osborn X Female Reader

I Forgot My Umbrella - Part 10

Word Count: 2449

Summary: You awaken from your rest feeling much better and Norman insists on getting you some real food to eat. All the while, Norman struggles with trying to keep his new feelings to himself.

Warnings: Age gap. We'll say PG I suppose.

A/N: I honestly rewrote this chapter a lot over the past few days trying to figure out how Norman would act. I figured I should just go ahead and post it before I started trying to change it again. We are getting closer to Norman asking Otto for help!

Archive

------

The sun had just gone down when you opened your eyes and stretched. You were certainly feeling better than you were this morning! And boy, what a crazy dream you had. Norman Osborn, your boss and crush, had been in your apartment taking care of you! It was one of the best dreams you ever had. Sure you said some pretty funny stuff, but it was a dream so it was fine.

Rising up out of bed, you fought a wave of dizziness but it passed. Shuffling towards your dresser and closet, you grabbed another t-shirt and a pair of PJ bottoms. You were in great need of a shower- your back muscles were crying for the heat of the water. You also needed to brush your teeth to remove the lingering taste of bile. As you were about to enter the bathroom, you gave the front room a quick glance and what you saw made you freeze.

Norman was asleep on your couch.

The realization that your so-called-dream was actually reality made you feel a bit off balance. You couldn’t remember everything you had done. You just hoped it wasn’t too bad.

Composing yourself, you stepped over to the couch to inspect your boss’s sleeping form.

Norman was completely out, a newspaper clutched in his right hand. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbow and his suit jacket draped over his knees. He honestly looked right at home on your drab little sofa. He had a slight smile on his face and you wondered what he was dreaming about.

The scene before you was so serene… and you weren’t sure you’d ever get another opportunity… You could finally draw him with him right in front of you.

“Nope. Not gonna do it,” you whispered to yourself.

That would be incredibly weird and not to mention a whole new level of creepy. You would leave Norman alone and go get your shower.

But before you left the room your stomach dropped.

Last night… you had been drawing after eating… you left your sketchbook…

Slowly you turned and saw your black sketchbook sitting on the coffee table. Closed. Had you closed it? Or… The possibility of Norman seeing the drawings made you want to throw up again. You quickly grabbed the sketchbook and tiptoed down the hall to toss the accursed thing into your bedroom. Your face burned like a brand as you ducked into the bathroom and locked the door.

This was a nightmare.

If… If he saw… Then… Then he knew. Right?! There was no way that he could see ALL of those drawings and NOT know.

The whole time you were in the shower you felt like crying. You honestly wanted to hide in here forever. You wanted to wash away with the water. Why did you have to draw all those stupid sketches?! Why did you have to be so weird?!

Knowing you’d have to face the music, you got dressed and exited the sanctuary of the bathroom. You half expected to see Norman awake but he was still asleep. As you debated over what you should do, you sat cross-legged on the coffee table. You were just thinking about waking him up when he muttered something. Your curiosity got the better of you and you waited to see if he would say anything coherent.

And what you heard Norman sigh made your heart stop.

“Y/N…”

He was dreaming about you.

A strange tingly feeling spreads through you, starting from your heart. By the time it reached the top of your head and your fingertips, you could hardly breathe. He was saying your name in his sleep. That had to mean something right?!

You watch Norman for a moment longer. His head lulled over and he now scowled.

“No, not that you idiot… If you add acetic acid to the sodium bicarbonate you’ll kill us all.”

The feeling left immediately and your shoulders sagged.

He was just dreaming about work. You sure hoped he wasn’t calling you an idiot in his dream. Course, you would be the one to add the wrong chemicals together. You weren’t a scientist after all.

With an eye roll you went to poke him in the shoulder but he suddenly gave a shudder.

“Peter… What did I do?”

You looked up and your heart sank. Norman’s expression was one of anguish. His shoulders were tense and he jerked his head over with a groan.

“What did I do? Tell me… What did I do!? No… No… No you’re not… I’m… No… Leave me alone! PETER!!”

You leapt up from the coffee table as Norman started thrashing about like he was trying to push someone away. You grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake.

“Sir? Can you hear me? Doctor Osborn?”

Norman stopped fighting but didn’t wake. His words became a mumbled mess as he even began to sob. It was like he was begging for his life and it was heartbreaking to watch. Finally, you grabbed the sides of his face and half-shouted.

“NORMAN!”

His eyes snapped open with a gasp. It took a moment but he slowly registered that you were standing above him, practically sitting in his lap.

“Y/N?”

You grinned and pulled away from him. Realizing the compromising position you were standing in, you quickly took your seat back on the coffee table. You tried not to notice how his legs touched yours as he readjusted himself.

“What happened? Where…”

Norman looked around before his eyes settled back on you. You noticed that his ears turned a bit pink and you figured that he was embarrassed about being caught sleeping.

“You started having a nightmare so I woke you up… Sorry.”

Norman ducked his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“Hey, if you were tired, you needed the rest. No biggie.”

Norman gave a tired sigh as a silence settled between the two of you. It dragged on for a long moment and you couldn’t stop yourself.

You had to know.

“Sir… Did you… Did you look at my sketchbook?”

Norman’s head came up, his eyebrows raised. He looked like a kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t. You could see him deciding on what to say and you curled into a ball, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“You… you looked through it… didn’t you? You saw…”

You buried your face in your knees as your face turned bright red.

“I didn’t!” Norman held his hands up in surrender, “I only saw… the, uh, the one it was open to but I closed it. I didn’t look through it.”

You peeked a look over your knees to see Norman’s ears turning red as he tried to look anywhere but your face. He settled for staring down at his hands.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered into your knees, “I’m really sorry.”

Norman scowled and leaned forward, forearms on his knees. His face was just a few inches away from yours as he addressed you in a stern tone.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Did you really think I would be mad at you for drawing me? I am deeply honored.”

You felt those butterflies in your stomach as Norman gave you a lopsided smile. You couldn’t help but return it as you moved to prop your chin on your legs.

And then, before you realized what was happening, his right hand was at the side of your face. Your skin burned under his touch as he carefully tucked some wet hair behind your ear.

“You look like you’re feeling better. Your color has returned and you’re more lively. How’s your stomach feeling?”

You couldn’t breathe, let alone form words. The way he was looking at you made your heart stop. If you had to describe that look… It was like a man looking at the home he thought he’d lost. But you had to be wrong… Norman Osborn wouldn’t be looking at you like that.

“I’m okay,” you managed to whisper, “Kinda hungry actually.”

Norman blinked and instantly pulled away from you. He cleared his throat and hastily brushed a hand through his hair. He muttered something to himself that you couldn’t quite make out as he rolled his sleeves back down. When he met your gaze again, his expression was unreadable.

“I’ll fetch you something to eat,” he declared as he stood, “Anything you want, name it.”

“Sir, you don’t-”

“I insist,” he cut in before adding, “It’s the least I could do.”

You fixed Norman with a skeptical glare.

“Sir, you’ve already gone above and beyond for me. Really. You don’t have to get me anything.” You pointed towards the kitchen, “I’ve got poptarts and ramen right here.”

Norman’s features scrunched up into a scowl as he looked between you and the kitchen.

“Poptarts and Ramen? That’s what you eat?”

You shrugged.

“I mean… not all the time. But yeah. It’s a pretty good meal.”

“No wonder you were throwing up all night,” Norman scoffed, “You need real food.”

He stormed towards the door, grabbed his coat from the hook, and headed out. You watched in stunned silence as he stopped in the doorway and gave you a smile.

“I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he was gone. He had left in such a hurry that he had forgotten his suit jacket on the couch.

—

As soon as Norman made it outside, he froze on the steps, eyes glaring into the concrete beneath his shoes. His hand gripped the wrought iron railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He thought he could be near you. Thought he could keep his feelings to himself and act as he did before. It was supposed to be enough.

It wasn’t enough.

He hadn’t even lasted five minutes! Before he had even realized what he was doing, he was caressing the side of your face. Of all the immature stupid things to do! He was a grown man for heaven’s sake!

But all of Norman’s impulse control seemed to be leaving him.

He needed to get a grip. Reevaluate. Stop being so reckless!

Taking a deep breath, Norman headed for his car with a plan to find the nearest supermarket. While he drove, his mind still mulled over his current predicament.

Romance had never been his strong suit. Even when courting Emily he had had difficulty. He never would have earned her affections if it wasn’t for Otto Octavius.

At the thought of his old friend, Norman remembered his college days when Otto was his roommate. Despite what one might think, Otto Octavius was surprisingly popular with the ladies. He just had a friendly charm about him that women seemed to love. Otto always attracted the kind, sensitive women who didn’t care about appearance or money. Norman, on the other hand, had rotten luck with women. They were always after his wealth or were just there to break his heart for kicks. When he had finally met Emily, he had no clue how to express his feelings to her.

Norman had always been quick witted and confident- knowing exactly what to say to get his way. He could be charming and suave. Norman could woo a woman with the right words and gifts.

But when it came to a woman he actually loved?

He became very well aware of his looks- or his lack thereof. And once he got past his insecurities, he tended to move too fast. Grand gestures, sappy declarations, too many gifts, PDA… Norman’s mind drifted to you and he clenched his jaw, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

All of these things had cost him Emily when he first tried to date her. In the end, Otto had to help him in the art of slow subtlety and patience. The gradual build up in a relationship wasn’t something Norman understood. When he wanted something, he went after it. This apparently did not work all that well when it came to courting a woman.

As Otto had so blatantly put it:

“You’re dealing with a real woman now. I know you think your appearance plays a factor here, but, truthfully, it has very little to do with it. A smart woman is far more interested in your mind. Show her who you truly are and she’ll look past everything else. And, for God’s sake Norman, slow down. It’s romance. Not a race.”

He had gone on to say that, statistically speaking, there had to be a few women in the world who found his visage appealing and would be more than happy with him the way that he was: Clingy, possessive, prone to emotional outbursts, and fond of over the top theatrical gestures.

But Norman doubted that.

His personal flaws aside, no one found him handsome in college. Not even Emily found him physically attractive- as she often declared that she loved him for his brilliant mind and sensitive side above all else. And sadly, much of Norman’s sensitive side died with her.

Though you seemed able to bring it out in him.

Now that he was older, perhaps too old, he assumed that his face looked even worse. He could imagine the look of horror in your eyes if he professed feelings for you.

Norman sighed. It was just another reminder that he was entirely out of line for even considering pursuing a relationship with you. He should just drop the whole thing here and now.

He needed to be stronger.

Keep his hands to himself.

Keep his thoughts and desires in check.

You saw him as a good man and a friend. So that’s what he had to be. And a good man would keep these horrible feelings to himself.

The only question on Norman’s mind now was HOW to be a friend to you. You were so bright and young. You seemed to have so many hobbies and enjoyments in this life. Norman on the other hand… He had his work. He couldn’t remember the last thing he did that wasn’t science that he just enjoyed. He just felt too different. Like the two of you existed in two different universes.

At that thought, Norman chuckled.

He had already traveled to another universe once.

So perhaps he could visit yours?

Norman decided at that moment that he would just follow your lead. He wasn’t really “up on the times” as it were, but he was adaptable. He would let you take the reins in this friendship and try anything you wanted. Just so long as it meant he could be near you.

#norman osborn x reader #norman osborn #green goblin #spider man: no way home #i forgot my umbrella #fanfiction #sam raimi spider man #fluff

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twiceasfrustrating · 3 years

Note

could I request a scenario where the demon king comes back and well, takes an interest in mc?

nothing too spicy but a makeout sesh would be appreciated. (｡・//ε//・｡)

If you don't feel comfortable writing this them it's perfectly fine!

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: GN/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: The Demon King (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Barbatos (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: fluff, he threatens to eat you, non-consensual kiss

Summary: Diavolo has a mysterious guest who takes an interest in you.

A/N: I… I know you probably meant something more romantic, but I couldn’t think of MC meeting the King for the first time and then going ‘lets make out’., so 'take an interest in' may mean something a little different. Sorry.

Word Count: 829

All you were trying to do was join Diavolo for afternoon tea. He had invited you over, as he often did, and you couldn’t get the thought of Barbatos’ tea and cake out of your head. However, when you arrived at the palace, there was already a meeting happening in the front foyer; Diavolo, Barbatos, and… someone very large and very tall that was showing off his demonic form.

For a moment, you thought you had arrived at the wrong time and were about to leave, but then the mysterious demon noticed you and focused all of his attention on your presence. His gaze narrowed on you, seeming to look you over from top to bottom before he stepped closer to you.

“And what is a human doing down here?” He grabbed you by the chin and twisted your face from side to side as if he was examining you. He licked his lips as his eyes narrowed in on you, “They look absolutely delicious.”

“Do you remember the exchange program I told you about? They’re one of the humans that came down here.” Diavolo looked at you with a mild look of panic, as he tried to find the right words to free you from your current predicament.

“So they’re just some normal human? In that case, one bite wouldn’t hurt anyone. Humans don’t need all of their limbs, right?” His gaze traced over you, following the curve of your flesh and evaluating how much meat and fat was on your bones.

“They’re also Lucifer’s and his brother’s pact holder,” Diavolo said in a matter-of-fact voice that was unbecoming of the demon you had come to know.

The mystery demon’s grip tightened slightly before he dropped his hand entirely, his eyes now looking at you in a mix of curiosity, disgust, and admiration, “Unfortunate. I expected at least Lucifer to have the sense not to chain himself to something so frail.”

As he backs away from you and turns around to look at Diavolo once more, you inhale sharply, feeling as if the air burns your lungs on contact. You hadn’t even realized that you had stopped breathing once he had gotten so close to you. Just being near him was oppressive and overwhelming.

“They’re also an up-and-coming sorcerer as well.” Diavolo looked like a proud parent bragging about his child’s accomplishments as he spoke of you, “They’re training under Solomon himself.”

“Like master, like apprentice.” The demon leaned back with a growl, “I see you’ve been letting anyone do whatever they want. I didn’t see a single tortured soul on my way here or hear their lamentations.”

Diavolo looked aside and cleared his throat, “Well, you know, we’re trying to make peace with the other realms, so torturing souls is counterproductive.”

The man huffed, “Sure. The Devildom is yours now so do whatever you want, but you’re a fool for allowing yourself to look so weak to realms we are anything but at peace with.”

Barbatos cleared his throat from behind Diavolo, distracting gazes from the fact that the prince’s smile no longer seemed to reach his eyes, “Your Majesty, I would like to extend the offer to join us for this afternoon’s tea. I believe the prince may need time to process the advice you’ve just given him.”

Your Majesty? As in, the title for a king? As in, this large, intimidating demon that had just asked to literally eat you, was the king? As in, he was Diavolo’s father?

“Wait! I thought you were supposed to be asleep!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself and quickly realize how dumb your outburst was.

The demon king turned to look at you again, eyes narrowing in on you as he stooped down to your level. A smile crept across his face, “Are you interested in me, little apprentice?”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak out.

A deep laugh seeps through his lips, low and rumbling, “Humans are the best when they’re marinating in fear.”

“Dad. Seven pacts.” Diavolo reminded him.

“Tsk.” His Majesty looked you over once more before smirking and, to your utter shock, crashed his lips against your own.

You froze against him, brain panicking as you tried to process what in the world was happening to you. Diavolo looked on in shock as well and Barbatos’ eye twitched for a moment.

The moment only ended once he pulled away and licked his lips, “Not bad, but it needs a little longer. Barbatos, I will take that tea, along with some screaming soul scones.” He walked toward the door and left. Barbatos bowed slightly and followed behind him, only glancing back for a moment to examine the shock still plastered on your face.

You waited for the door to shut behind both of them before turning to Diavolo, “What just happened?”

“I think he sampled you.”

“Define ‘sampled’ for me please.”

“I really don’t think you want me to.” Honestly, Diavolo wasn’t even sure himself.

#obey me #obey me fluff #fluff #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me main character #obey me demon king #mine #request #swd obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date

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dickwheelie · 3 years

Note

This is a little specific so feel free to give it a pass if you're not into it, but would you like to like to do season 2 Lunch Date Era jonmartin with the 'friendly hugs' prompt? Thank you, and have a good day!

specific prompts are actually really nice, they give me something solid to work off of, so this was actually perfect! I had a lot of fun writing this one. thank you and enjoy, anon!

____________

Jon can't stop bouncing his leg.

He keeps forgetting that he's doing it, and then noticing again, and then forcibly stopping himself, but it never lasts long. The cafe is crowded and loud, which is distracting enough on its own, but Martin is also there, sitting across from him and tucking into a sandwich, gamely trying to engage Jon in conversation even though Jon keeps getting distracted and bouncing his leg.

"Jon? You there?"

Martin's voice fades back into Jon's awareness, and he shifts his gaze back to him. "Sorry," he says for the fifth time that lunch hour, "um, say that again?"

He feels bad. He does. Ever since he found out about Martin's CV, Jon's been kicking himself over how paranoid he'd been, thinking that Martin was out to get him, shouting at him over what turned out to be nothing. Jon doesn't want to be that sort of boss, that sort of person, but he'd just been so overwhelmed. He could hardly believe it when Martin asked him to join him for lunch, after all the things Jon's said to him. Still, he's grateful for the olive branch. It's too bad he keeps messing it up by forgetting to listen to Martin when he talks.

Speaking of--

"Oh, damn," Jon mutters, interrupting whatever it is Martin is trying to tell him. "Martin, god, I'm so sorry, I just got--"

"Distracted?" Martin says, and to Jon's surprise he doesn't seem annoyed, just . . . concerned. "I've noticed. Jon, are you feeling alright?"

"What? Yes, I'm fine." Jon eats the last few bites of his salad so he doesn't have to meet Martin's eyes.

"Sure? Because you seem really anxious." Martin's voice has that soft, worried lilt to it that Jon used to get annoyed by. It doesn't bother him so much anymore. It's . . . sort of nice, really, to be worried over, sometimes.

Not now, though. Because right now Jon doesn't need to be worried over. "I'm not anxious. Just . . . it's distracting in here. It's loud."

"Oh, well, let's go then," Martin says, finishing up his sandwich and standing up to gather his coat. "It's not too cold out. We can walk around downtown until lunch hour is over."

"I--" Jon wants to protest, but he realizes that yes, getting out of this small cafe would be very welcome. "That's . . . that's a good idea, actually."

His leg can't bounce when he's walking, and the early winter air is cold but not biting, and the walkways aren't crowded. Jon can feel himself calming down by the time they get a block away from the cafe. Maybe he had been a little anxious, after all. This was a very good idea. Martin has very good ideas, he thinks.

"If that cafe was too much," Martin is telling him, and thankfully Jon is actually able to listen to him now, "there's another place we could try next time. New Indian place, right around the corner from the Institute. Tim says he goes there whenever he has a PT appointment, to treat himself."

Jon wants to go back to the fact that Martin wants there to be a next time, but for now there's something more pressing to address. "Tim's still doing physical therapy?" he says. He'd thought he was finished weeks ago.

"Yeah, he says it's just follow-up appointments. He's mostly okay, they just need to make sure he's improving, I guess." Martin shoots him a sidelong look. "I thought you and he were close."

"Not, um . . . not so much anymore." Jon stuffs his hands into his coat pockets, ducking into his collar. "We don't really . . . talk."

"Oh," Martin says. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Jon doesn't want to get into it. Thankfully, Martin doesn't press the issue.

"Are you still going to PT?" Martin says instead. "You don't have to tell me, obviously. I just . . . I never see you outside the archives anymore."

Jon bites the inside of his cheek. "I, um . . . I sort of . . . stopped going. After the second appointment."

Martin stops short in the middle of the sidewalk, and Jon has to double back. "Christ, Jon!" he says, not angry, but aggravated. "You can't just skip out on that stuff, you could do permanent damage--"

"Martin, I'm fine," Jon says. "See, I'm walking around and everything. Trust me, if it was bad, I'd have kept going, but the whole thing was a waste of time and I had work to get done--"

"Your health comes first," Martin says, with finality, before his demeanor softens. "I'm not an idiot, Jon, I notice you staying late and coming in early, I notice when you skip meals. You're running yourself ragged. It's a job, Jon, and trust me, I know how important this work is, I get it, but none of it, alright, none of it's more important than you."

Jon blinks at him. He wants to protest, but every half-formed rebuttal sounds either defensive or outright silly. Martin is right, after all. Jon just wishes that he weren't, because then he wouldn't have to reevaluate everything he's been doing for the past two months.

Martin goes on, taking a step closer to him. "Just . . . you don't need to keep throwing yourself at a wall, Jon. At least give yourself a break every once in a while."

"I can't just walk away, Martin. O-Or, I don't--" Jon's voice has gone shaky. He clears his throat and tries again. "I--I don't really know how. There's just . . . there's so much, and I don't know where any of it leads, if it's leading anywhere at all, and . . . I just . . . I've no idea what I'm supposed to do about all of it."

Martin gives him a look that Jon doesn't know how to place. It's not pity, or condescension, which Jon would expect from most everyone else. He just looks . . . sort of sad. His hands are clasped in front of his chest, tugging restlessly on his fingers. "Jon, would you . . . um, that is . . ." Suddenly Martin thrusts his open arms out towards Jon and blurts out, "Would you like a hug?"

Jon's speechless. What a thing to be asked, he thinks, and especially by a coworker, no matter how well they know each other, it's completely unprofessional, and even if Martin were his closest friend, which he isn't, but even if he were, why on earth would Jon of all people need a hug? Sure, he's not doing all that great, but Martin doesn't need to know that, and anyway how is a hug supposed to fix anything, especially a hug from someone who doesn't know the half of what Jon's been going through lately, or how scared and confused he's been, or about Jon's very serious problems that are complicated and terrifying and can't be fixed with something as childish and simple as a--

"Yes, please," Jon says, the words coming out in an exhale of pent-up tension, and he all but collapses into Martin's open arms. His face lands just under Martin's chin, half-tucked into his shoulder, and he's just barely able to wrap his arms around Martin's midsection as Martin hugs him back tightly, squeezing him against his chest, and Jon had never known how strong Martin was, how much he had been hiding beneath those soft jumpers of his. His arms, all muscle beneath fat, feel as though they could fight off an army if they really wanted to, and despite his nagging paranoia, Jon can't help but feel utterly protected by them. He feels himself relaxing, bit by bit, sinking into the softness of Martin's chest, letting him hug him closer, just tight enough to be secure without hurting. As he leans into the hug, he doesn't feel any concern about Martin losing his grip or slipping backwards. Martin can take his weight; he knows this. He is as solid and reliable as a wall, and just as stubborn, and he will not drop Jon. Jon lets out a deep sigh, his breaths evening out and slowing, tension seeping from his limbs until he feels entirely relaxed. He feels cared for. He feels safe. It's been so, so long since he's felt safe.

He doesn't even notice that he's closed his eyes until Martin's arms shift around him, and Jon realizes they've been hugging for probably way longer than is normal. His eyes snap open and he backs off, hands sliding away from Martin, clearing his throat awkwardly. He tries not to miss the gentle security of Martin's arms.

"Um," Martin says, sounding like he's about to apologize, but Jon interrupts him.

"Thank you," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "That was--I, um. I needed that." When was the last time he'd hugged someone? Jon can't even remember. "It was really nice," he says quietly. Another one of Martin's brilliant ideas.

Martin nods, looking relieved, and perhaps a little fond, though it may just be Jon's imagination. "Anytime," he says, and Jon thinks he might mean it. He hopes he does. "What are friends for, eh?"

Jon blinks. Are they friends? How long has that been the case? He looks at Martin, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, a small smile on his face, and he thinks that yes, maybe they are friends. It would be nice to be friends, anyway. If Martin says they're friends, Jon won't correct him. "Yeah," he says, and he's very glad to see Martin's face brighten at the word. "I, um," and Jon needs to clear his throat again, "I-I'll try. To have a break once in a while."

"Promise?" Martin says, and Jon can't help but laugh.

"I promise."

Martin nods. "Okay. Good."

"This, today, lunch I mean, this was nice. I'd . . . um. I'd like to do it again."

"Oh! Um, sure. Definitely," Martin says, smiling.

"We can go to that Indian place," Jon says.

"Sure," Martin says. "Tomorrow?" His look is hesitant, but Jon's answer is immediate.

"Yes," he says, letting a smile run over his lips. "Yes, Martin, I'd like that very much."

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #gwyneth writes

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tinyhistory · 3 years

Note

Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

#draco/harry fanfic #drarry #drarry fic recs #drarry fic #answered asks

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