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marshmallow---pillow · 17 days

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My Body Is A Slaughterhouse

Word count: ~400

Warnings: Violence, Panic attack, References to Torture, Implied Child Death, Implied Suicide Tags: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Robin, Jason Todd is Arkham Knight, Time Loop

He hears a distant click, which sounds as if it's source is at the end of a long tunnel. He doesn't realize Robin's coming close to him until he is—close enough to drape the black cape around his shaking shoulders with utmost gentleness. His brain screeches to a halt as soft kevlar and Nettofiber polymer settles around his shoulders.

Robin's standing infront of him—all slow measured movements—carefully arranging the cape over his arms, which are starting to burn from how tightly he's clasped them to his sides. Robin's breaking protocol, he's not supposed to interact with volatile people, much less be in such proximity to them.

Then again, he never really cared about the rules.

(It's what got him here)

His hands are white knuckled and trembling as he tries to wrench each crooked finger away from bruised flesh. He barely registers Robin crouching infront of him, shoulders relaxed—a picture of ease, as if he's perfectly content where he is, crouching infront of a wrecked, ruined man who shot his brains out.

(It's a lie)

Robin's face twitches from where his zygomaticus are tensed up, worried—worried about him, an observation that does not help as the world starts distorting at the edges again, as the vivid images hit him, the gun, the recoil, the reflex, the blood, the brains—they jarr him to his bones—making his eyes burn and chest tight and��

There's a pressure on his hand, and he tears his blurred gaze away from where he's been staring a hole into the cracked asphalt, only to see a smaller gloved hand on his, and then to a face that leaks concern depite the domino. The sensation jolts him out of the haze long enough to knock him into sheer rage. The fuck is Robin doing? He's breaking protocol, Jason could snap his slender fingers and then his neck and— slender fingers—whole, unbroken—

"—In and out, you're doing great, four seconds In, four seconds out—"

Robin's voice echoes in his head and he instinctually follows it, slowly coaxing his abused lungs to inhale, to exhale, repeat.

"In through the nose, out through the mouth—"

Why is he doing this? Has he always been doing this? Did he do this? Pause his entire world for people in need? Uncaring of repercussions? So fucking carelessly. No wonder he ended up as the Clown's pincushion—shut up

"—In through the nose—"

He's dizzy, his head hurts—as if Harley's taken a mallet to it. But he doesn't let the world wash away again, hanging onto the soft tone like a drowing man.

"—Out through the mouth—"

The air seems to rake the soft flesh of his tongue, his throat, his lungs as he breathes. There's always a pungent twinge to it, that cuts through the sinuses like glass—saturated with the smell of festering that never leaves Gotham's atmosphere. The city never stops reeking of a death, he doesn't think it ever will.

Jason senses it when the boy's gaze lingers on the brand again, it's not disgust or pity that that flashes on his too-young features—pure unadulterated rage that he knows so intimately well.

"Good, you're okay, you're okay", Robin smiles, an attempt at reassurance, a lopsided thing that makes the dimple on his cheek stand out. Jason wants to tell him to take his false sympathy and fuck off, except that it's not false, except that his tongue's stuck to the floor of his mouth. He can't speak, can't look at the face of such earnest, not when it had been bloody and mangled a moment ago and he was the reason and—fucking stop

The boy he killed looks at him with utmost sympathy, he can't bring himself to meet his gaze.

[Title from Moony Moonless Sky by Fatima Aamer Bilal]

[Like if you wish to be added to the tag-list]

#jason todd #arkhamverse #robin jason todd #robin jason #arkham knight #AK gets stuck in a time loop with his past self #Doesn't have a grand time #To be fair he's initially an ass so #Anyways might write the whole thing if I get the motivation

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dusk-writes · 3 years

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eyy friends, I just uploaded chapter 6 of my big wolfstar fic just in time for Moony’s bday today– and this chapter just happens to contain a flashback to Remus’s 18th, so I’ve decided to post that section here as well! I hope you enjoy this little scene; I think it works pretty well as a standalone c:

———

On a clear moonless night in March of seventh year, Sirius finds Remus atop the astronomy tower, gazing out over the grounds. There’s a half-spent joint hanging loosely from his fingers, his soft curls and the lines of his scars silvered by the starlight. He looks strangely ageless, like an ancient marble statue, perfection set in stone and made all the more beautiful for all the scars of ages past…

‘Looking for me?’ Sirius asks softly.

Remus twitches, the way he does when he has failed to notice Sirius approaching (not common, considering his acute sense of smell, but in this case the pungent smoke has probably masked Sirius’s scent). He lifts the joint to his chapped lips, and draws in a deep breath, the glow of the smouldering tip reflecting golden in his irises. He holds the breath, then lets the smoke out in a thin jet that is rapidly whisked away to nothing by a chill gust of wind. ‘Yes, I regularly come up here to look for my mates,’ he answers dryly.

Remus takes another pull on his joint, then offers it to Sirius, who accepts it delicately between his fingers. ‘Perhaps I just wanted to have a smoke in peace,’ Remus murmurs, watching with a strange intensity as Sirius places the unlit end between his lips.

‘Mmh, nah… you’d have picked a better place to hide if you didn’t want to be found.’

Silence settles over them, only the soft whistling of the wind over the castle rooftops beneath them. Sirius draws in a deep breath of his own, the musky smell of the weed at odds with the frosty night air. He passes the joint back to Remus, who leans against the parapet, gazing up at the sky. ‘…What about you, then?’

‘Maybe I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.’

Remus hesitates– it’s not yet midnight, a fact which Sirius expects him to point out (thereby forcing Sirius to defend it)– but the comment never comes, and instead Remus just quirks an eyebrow at him with a stilted sort of nonchalance and says, ‘You couldn’t wait until a more reasonable hour?’

‘We’re both awake either way, so why bother?’

Remus shrugs, and looks back out over the grounds, his brows drawn together and his mouth clamped tightly shut, shoulders tense.

‘I made you something,’ Sirius says awkwardly, unsure what’s going on with Remus. 'I know you don’t like expensive things, so I thought…’ Remus emits a strangled choked sound, and Sirius shifts uncomfortably. 'Er, well, it’s nothing much, so…’

‘I’m sorry,’ Remus whispers. 'I just don’t… I’m not really in the mood, I guess.’

Sirius reaches out, half of a mind to take Remus’s hand, but Remus shifts, pulling the hand inwards. Sirius lets his own arm drop, instead turning to lean his shoulder against the parapet. ‘Talk to me, Moons.’

‘Honestly… I’m not sure what there is to celebrate.’ Remus slides down the low wall until he’s sat slouched against it, and Sirius sits next to him, their shoulders bumping together. ‘This is… it’s going to sound bad,’ Remus mumbles, his shoulders hunched.

‘Try me.’

Remus huffs out a breath, but continues. ‘In just a few months, we’ll all leave here, and… you and James, you’ve got so much ahead of you to look forward to, and even Peter has his family’s apothecary business to go into. But for me– coming here, to Hogwarts, it’s the closest I’ll ever have to a normal life. After this is over… I’m just another fucking werewolf.’

‘Bloody hell, Moony,’ he growls; 'you can’t honestly think that we’ll just abandon you as soon as we’ve left school.’

‘Well… no. But there’s a war on, and James has got Lily, and you–’

‘I’m going to stop you right there, Remus,’ he says flatly, and Remus blinks up at him, startled at the lack of nickname. 'I can’t speak for James or Peter, but I didn’t break the fucking law just for a lark– Padfoot is all for you, and always has been, and will be for as long as you want me there. This–’ (he gestures at himself) ‘–is forever, and I really do mean that.’ This time, Sirius doesn’t hesitate to place his hand over Remus’s, twining their fingers together, and in a moment of boldness he finds the strength to say what he’s never dared to before– ‘I swore to myself that you’d never spend another full moon alone, not as long as it’s within my power to help.’

Remus’s eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted. He has scars on his face and a nose that’s too large and crooked for most people to consider properly attractive and his curls are a mess where he’s been pulling on them and he never seems to know what to do with his long lanky limbs… and he is the most gorgeous person Sirius could possibly imagine. Remus Lupin looks at him in utter disbelief, and Sirius only wishes Remus could see himself the way Sirius does: Beautiful, you’re fucking beautiful as the moon itself.

‘…Sirius, I– but what if you find someone? Who you… want to be with, I mean. Not just as a quick hookup, but…’ Remus shakes his head, huffs out a shaky breath that might almost have qualified as a laugh but seems rather closer to a sob. ‘When you find your own Lily Evans– the person you want to spend the rest of your life with– you needn’t hold yourself to that.’

Sod off, Lupin, Sirius wants to scream, it’s you, it’s always been you– but he doesn’t; he bites it back, as it wouldn’t be right to push that sort of thing on Remus. He knows that Remus fancies blokes, but it is quite obvious that Remus does not fancy him (plenty of other people fancy Sirius, but Remus has seen his darkest twisted secrets and someone as good as Remus couldn’t possibly want someone so messed up). No, Sirius cannot risk their friendship on an unwanted and unrequited declaration of love.

‘…Then I suppose they’d just have to get used to you, Loops, because I’m still never going to go back on my word, no matter what sort of twisted hypothetical situation you try to throw at me.’ Sirius takes a deep breath, then levels his gaze at Remus. ‘Unless you can honestly tell me you want me gone– tell me to fuck off and really mean it. But don’t insult me by suggesting that I don’t understand what I’m offering, or whatever the fuck else you seem to think.’

Remus hears the challenge in his voice, the sharp edge to his words, and glances at him guiltily. ‘…Of course not,’ he croaks. ‘I… didn’t mean to suggest that you’d ever… that you’re not…’ He shakes his head. ‘Sorry.’

Sirius feels the flash of anger and frustration melt away into nothing, vanishing as quickly as they’d come. ‘Don’t be,’ he says, leaning into Remus’s side and sliding an arm around his shoulders. ‘Only… you of all people should know that dogs are very loyal creatures. And I really do mean every word of it.’ Sirius rubs his hand in a slow circle over Remus’s back, and leans forward to look him in the eyes. ‘This was my choice, Remus Lupin, and I’ve never once regretted it.’ And I never will.

Remus gazes at him, wide-eyed, the joint between his fingers long since fizzled out.

‘And… look, now it’s past midnight. So, once again, happy birthday you daft tosser.’

Remus can’t help but smile at that. ‘You said you… made me something?’

Sirius smiles, and pulls the box from the pocket of his robe. ‘All by myself,’ he says proudly.

Remus takes the box and opens it, revealing an assortment of chocolates, moulded into various star shapes. ‘Oh! They look wonderful, Sirius– this can’t have been easy.’

‘Well, the outside is just that Honeydukes 70% you like; I only melted it down and reshaped it to make these.’

‘But… there’s a filling?’

‘All different flavours,’ Sirius says with relish, and he grins and shakes his head as Remus lifts the box to his face. 'You won’t be able to smell what’s inside, though– that’s what makes this my Siriusly Special Starlight Surprise box.’

Remus’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘You’re right… that’s impressive.’

‘I wanted to show you without Prongs or Wormy around,’ Sirius admits. 'I didn’t want to risk anyone else stealing one, since they’re all specially made for you.’

‘Oh,’ Remus says again, a little breathlessly, his gaze returning magnetically to the box. His long fingers skim delicately over the edges of the chocolates, before selecting one at random, bringing it to his lips. His tongue flicks out, eyes bright with curiosity when he still can’t detect the mystery flavour. He bites down, and lets out a soft moan. ‘Ohh…’

Sirius watches, practically vibrating with excitement and nerves; his whole body feels warm and tingly, his heart racing and his cheeks flushed, and he bites down on the knuckle of his index finger to stop himself blurting out something foolish, pestering Remus with half a dozen questions all at once (which flavour did he get? is it all right? is making your definitely-platonic best mate custom chocolates for his birthday Too Much? what if Remus reads too much into it and gets uncomfortable sleeping in the same dorm with a bloke who might sometimes think about what it would be like to kiss him, or other things even more unspeakable? or worse, what if Remus does think about those things too but then they try something and Sirius cocks it up? and on and on and on) and Sirius has to stop himself from reaching out and snatching the box back, chucking it off the tower and into the lake far below.

Remus stares at him, with a heated sort of fascination. ‘Did you… really come up with this all on your own? The recipes for the fillings, and whatever you’ve done to suppress the smell, and…’

‘Yeah,’ Sirius says, attempting a casual smile. 'So you like it? What flavour did you get?’

‘Sirius… this is…’ Remus is, for once, at a loss for words, and for the briefest split second Sirius thinks he might just lean in and press their lips together, let Sirius taste its remnants on his own tongue– but then Remus shakes his head, and the moment is lost. ‘It’s fucking fantastic, as you bloody well know; I’ve never had anything else like it. It’s… magical.’

‘Well, yes,’ Sirius deadpans. 'We are wizards, after all.’

Remus rolls his eyes. ‘Oh sod off, you know what I mean. In a metaphorical sense.’

And of course Sirius does know, because he has felt it too. ‘Like stepping into the Great Hall for the first time,’ he supplies, remembering the first time he’d looked up at the lofty ceiling alight with hundreds of floating candles, the stars beyond much brighter than they ever were in London…

‘Exactly.’ Remus smiles, soft and fond. 'And the flavour was a bit spicy; definitely cinnamon, and… something I’ve tasted in the Potters’ cooking.’

Sirius grins. ‘Full marks, Mr Lupin.’

‘And you said they’re all unique?’ Remus’s eyes stray back to the box, which Sirius reaches over to snap closed.

‘Moony, you fiend, they’re meant to be savoured, not gobbled up all at once!’ He clasps his hand solidly over Remus’s, to ensure it can’t get up to any mischief. ‘…And yes, they’re all different, so you have a lot more to look forward to, but only if you take them one at a time.’

‘All right,’ Remus laughs, setting the box carefully aside. ‘How did you do it? Where did you find the time, or…’

‘Trade secret, Moonshine.’ Sirius bumps their shoulders together. 'It’s like what they say about the Muggle Magic– a Magician never reveals his secrets.’ He gives Remus’s fingers a squeeze. 'If you’re that fond of them, though… perhaps they’ll make an encore performance next year.’

Remus relaxes with a sigh, leaning into him. ‘You really mean it, then?’

‘I love running with you on the moons, Remus Moony Lupin. I can’t imagine anything that could ever change that.’ Sirius brushes his thumb over Remus’s bony knuckles, the small scar curving across one of them, down the back of one long finger– Remus has the loveliest hands– and Sirius decides to throw caution to the winds. 'Live with me,’ he blurts out.

‘Erm– sorry?’

‘After graduation,’ Sirius elaborates. 'My Uncle Alphard left me his flat in London– it’s a nice place; I went to see it after I got the letter.’ Sirius shifts so he can look at Remus. 'At first I thought…’ He gives his head a small shake, shrugs off the truth of how much he wants Remus there, the two of them close. 'Well, it’d be big enough for all four of us, yeah? Prongs said he liked the sound of it.’

For a split second, Remus looks oddly crestfallen, but it’s gone so quickly Sirius thinks he must have imagined it. 'I suppose it’ll be a bit soon for him to move in with Lily,’ Remus says.

Sirius snorts, a wry smile twisting his mouth. 'If she’s not grown sick of him by then, you mean. Still dunno what got into her head, asking him out in the first place…’

Remus snickers at that, his breath clouding on the cold night air. 'Thought she’d broken his brain when she did,’ he says, and laughs out loud when Sirius imitates the panicked look that had come over James’s face– like a deer in headlights, they’d ribbed him after the fact. It had been the last week of term before winter hols, and Lily had approached him in the common room and asked him out to a Hogsmeade date (sometime during the break, after the majority of the students had gone home, since they were both staying and it would be nice to have the village to themselves) and James had hardly slept the night before– but of course it had gone perfectly once James got over his anxiety and remembered that he and Lily had been friendly for months by that point, ever since they began working together in their duties as Head Boy and Girl…

Sirius shakes his head, and pulls Remus into a friendly one-armed hug (he is very careful not to exceed the bounds of what would be considered ‘friendly’, careful not to overstep and make Remus uncomfortable). ‘…Anyway, think about it, will you? Alphard’s flat has got more space than I’d ever need for myself, and I’d miss having you lot around… and it’s properly mine so none of us would have to pay any rent, and… we’ll be able to plan the moons, just like we do here. We’ll find someplace we can all run together, and it’ll be bloody brilliant.’

Remus smiles faintly, and hums as he settles back against Sirius’s side– and despite the fact that they’re on top of the astronomy tower past midnight in the chill Scottish spring, Sirius suddenly feels very warm.

‘…So you don’t need to worry about the future, Re,’ he continues, trying to think of anything but the solid warmth of Remus against him, the brush of soft tawny curls against his cheek. 'It’ll be okay.’ He can’t actually promise that, of course– not with the war looming over them, increasingly impossible to ignore– but Sirius is confident that they’ll work something out. If they could design and create the Map with no outside help, and become Animagi at fifteen, they can manage this, too. 'As long as we all stick together, we’ll be fine.’

‘Yeah,’ Remus murmurs. 'I’ll think about it.’ He gives Sirius’s fingers a squeeze. 'Thanks, Pads. For everything.’

Sirius squeezes back, and thinks that nothing he does could ever be enough. He wishes he could give Remus the whole world, every star in the sky.

———

read the rest of chase the stars here!! it’s a (very long) slowburn wolfstar-raising-Harry fic, with plenty more Marauders Era flashbacks like this one as well :D

#wolfstar #marauders era #ff: chase the stars #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #dusk fic #dusk art #fic rec

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