𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 ﹗

𝑀𝐴𝑌𝐵𝐸 𝐼 𝑊𝐴𝑆 𝐵𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑂𝐹𝐹 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫.

[diedrobin]

  𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓.

  𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤.

SELECTIVE. MUTUALS ONLY. CANON DIVERGENT. EST. 2018.

＊ a portrayal of 𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗗, based off of dc comics' rebirth series along with personal headcanons. multiverse, multiship, welcome to original characters and other canon-divergent portrayals. personal blogs & minors DNI.

BLOG WILL INCLUDE TRIGGERING TOPICS.

𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 𝗢𝗙 vengeful betrayal, of family lost and found again, justified slaughter and expectations never reached. pleas for help in throes of death, questions unanswered and rage for things taken. he is doomed from the start, a family's black sheep, the losing dog.

HEAVILY AFFILIATED WITH @CRIMENIGHT & @SPIDERGENE.

𝐼 𝐼𝐼 𝐼𝐼𝐼 𝐼𝑉

[robin-no2]

my poor traumatized chain smoker

[diedrobin]

“I DIED SAVING SOMEONE I CARED ABOUT.   I DIED A HERO.”

[diedrobin]

❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜ ( feat. @theirbutler )

↳ assortment of prompts ⸻ ( @theirbutler ). 

THE  QUESTION  DOES  NOT  COME  WITHOUT    certain  memories;  of  which,  jason  is  very  fond.  he  was  but  a  young  boy  when  he  was  taken  under  bruce’s  wing,  and  in  spite  of  the  legality  of  it  all,  his  bond  felt  strongest  with  wayne’s  butler⸻alfred.  not  long  after  jason  assumed  the  mantle  of  robin  had  he  been  subject  to  reprimand.  bruce  was  a  great  teacher,  but  he  was  also  strict,  and  left  little  room  for  failure.  looking  back  on  it  now,  such  strict  teachings  saved  his  life  more  times  than  not,  but  to  a  not-yet  thirteen  year  old  he  felt  unwanted.  he  felt  shame.  he  felt  angry  and  betrayed  and  had  stolen  away  to  the  manor’s  western  balcony  to  smoke  a  cigarette.  of  all  the  things  in  his  short  life  he  felt  he  could  not  control,  this  was  the  one  thing  he  could.  yet  before  he  could  take  his  second  drag,  the  butler  was  at  his  back. 

just  like  he  is  now.  at  his  back,  then  come  to  the  rail  where  jason  is  leaning  over.  “you  really  asking  me  that?”  jason  retorts  with  an  incredulous  grin  come  onto  his  scarred  face.  𝑖𝑡  𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑑  ℎ𝑖𝑚  𝑡𝑜  𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒,  𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡  𝑑𝑎𝑦  ℎ𝑒  𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑  𝑎𝑙𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑑  𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒  𝑡𝑜  𝑠𝑚𝑜𝑘𝑒  𝑎𝑛𝑑  𝑛𝑜𝑡  𝑡𝑜  𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑.  𝑡𝑜  𝑏𝑒  𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒  ℎ𝑖𝑚,  𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡  𝑗𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛  𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑  𝑛𝑜𝑡  𝑏𝑒  𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒.  in  hand  he  thumbs  open  his  lighter  with  a  sound  not  unlike  two  champagne  glasses’  kiss,  and  from  it  a  tall  and  angry  flame  which  he  holds  to  alfred’s  cigarette.   if  for  a  long  while  after  he  is  quiet,  jason  is  enjoying  the  company.  there  are  no  secrets  between  them.  no  unspoken  feelings,  no  buried  regrets,  no  eggshells.  he  never  has  to  brace  for  what  may  come  next  where  alfred  is  involved.  “you  never  gave  me  shit  for  this,”  he  says,  after  a  moment,  “bruce  tried  getting  me  to  quit.  i  think  ℎ𝑒  𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒  𝑢𝑝  when  he  realized  i  wasn’t  gonna  listen.” 

in  part  this  is  no  longer  about  his  habit.  jason  takes  a  long  drag.

[diedrobin]

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

↳ assortment of prompts.

THIS  IS  ALL  SO  TRIVIAL;    there  are  worse  things  out  there  than  field  medical  care.  jason  dismisses  his  older  brother,  wont  to  recount  all  that  he  has  suffered  in  lieu  of  present  injuries.  of  which,  rivulets  of  blood  collect  in  the  stretched  and  purpled  flesh  of  old  flash-burn  scars.  the  surrounding  area  is  red  and  hot  to  the  touch.  stiff  with  swelling  and  bruise,  where  deep  beneath  the  surface,  a  crumpled  bullet  is  buried.  “you do  realize  i’ve  been  shot  before,  RIGHT?”  what  he  does  not  see  is  dick’s  hands  busy  at  his  back,  sterilizing  a  wingding  while  he  eyes  the  bullet’s  point  of  entry  just  below  jason’s  left  blade  bone.  𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔  𝚒𝚜  𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢  𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝  𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍  𝚑𝚒𝚜  𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐,  raising  suspicions,  raising  hairs.  he  knows  what's  coming.  𝗵𝗲  𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝘀  𝗮  𝗯𝗶𝗴  𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲.  “...i  can  handle  a⸻FUCK!”

the  sharp  of  the  wingding  buries  inside  the  torn  entry  wound.  dick  is  swift,  efficient,  but  that  doesn’t  mean  it  hurts  any  less.  jason  is  disciplined  enough  that  his  flesh  does  not  so  much  as  twitch,  not  until  he  hears  the  bullet  scatter  across  the  street  some  distance  away  from  them.  his  great  body  curls  in  on  itself,  over  his  lap  pulling  skin  taut  and  muscle  stretched  underneath.  𝑎𝑠  𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑎𝑠  𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑑  𝑡ℎ𝑒  𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑  𝑎𝑡  ℎ𝑖𝑠  𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘.  FRESH  BLOOD  ushers  from  the  wound,  which  dick  is  quick  to  pack  with  gauze.  “i’m  gonna  𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟  that  asshole,”  he  says,  which  had  surely  been  spoken  out  of  pain.  …surely.

[diedrobin]

❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

↳ assortment of prompts.

THAT  HE  SHOULD  SEEK  REFUGE    with  his  older  brother  is  as  rare  and  as  unheard  of  as  the  white  bat  of  gotham.  a  thing  so  elusive  it  is  left  to  mythos,  or  to  thrive  in  the  privacy  of  withdrawal.  but  they  are  both  tired;  worn,  their  edges  eroded  to  yield  when  there  would  be  sharp  words  between  them.  nightwing  didn’t  need  the  help  of  the  red  hood,  and  red  hood  had  no  reason  at  all  to  be  in  bludhaven⸻they  both  know  this.  neither  will  breathe  a  word  of  it. 

morning  ushers  into  dick’s  apartment  between  the  slats  of  drawn  blinds,  casting  pale  geometry  across  the  floor  where  jason’s  gaze  is  fixed.  their  night  is  over,  and  to  them,  the  rising  sun  is  soporific.  it  is  their  moon,  under  which  they  may  finally  find  rest.  the  plight  of  the  family  of  the  bat,  to  thrive  at  night!  in  plainclothes  dick  grayson  asks  after  jason’s  reassurance  and  jason  waves  it  off.  “yeah,  yeah.”  without  any  intention  of  staying.  family  is  foreign  to  him  still,  for  he  has  known  it  beneath  kitchen  tables  and  alleyways.  he  has  let  it  hurt  him,  and  too,  he  has  hurt  it. 

besides,  jason  never  could  follow  orders. 

long  after  twilight’s  yield  and  dick’s  retreat  to  sleep,  jason  abandons  his  makeshift  bed  on  the  couch  with  borrowed  linens  folded  neat.  by  the  time  the  sun  has  cast  the  apartment  in  its  white-yellow  noonlight  jason  has  gone.  were  it  not  for  the  smell  of  cigarette  smoke  clung  to  the  couch  where  he  slept,  it  would  be  like  he  were  not  there  at  all. 

that,  and  the  small,  cut  sandwiches  arranged  neatly  on  a  plate.  there  beside,  a  little  note  that  read:

COULDN'T  STAY. PILFERED  YOUR  FRIDGE  TO  MAKE  THESE. THANK  ME  LATER.

[leagueraised]

gotham needs a batman . and batman needs a robin . but i suspect gotham needs a robin , too . more than one . to do what batman can't .

[leneemusing]

EXTENSIVE SCAR RELATED PROMPTS 

GENERAL 

[ TOUCH ]  for sender to trace one of receiver’s scars 

[ TOUCHED ]  for receiver to trace one of sender’s scars

[ DISCOVER ]  for sender to see receiver’s scars for the first time 

[ DISCOVERED ]  for receiver to see sender’s scars for the first time 

[ CARESS ]  for sender to kiss one of receiver’s scars 

[ CARESSED ]  for receiver to kiss one of sender’s scars

[ SHOW ]  for sender to purposefully reveal their scars for receiver to see 

[ SHOWN ]  for receiver to purposefully reveal their scars for sender to see 

SCENARIOS

[ MEND ]  for sender to treat receiver’s wound which leads to them having to remove an article of clothing resulting in revealing scars hidden beneath

[ MENDED ]  for receiver to treat sender’s wound which leads to them having to remove an article of clothing resulting in revealing scars hidden beneath

[ BLUNDER ]  for sender to walk in on receiver in a state of undress thus seeing their scars for the first time

[ BLUNDERED ]  for receiver to walk in on sender in a state of undress thus seeing their scars for the first time 

[ KISS ]  our muses are having sex for the first time which then reveals sender’s scars to receiver 

[ KISSED ]  our muses are having sex for the first time which then reveals receiver’s scars to sender 

[ BATHE ]  our muses take a shower together and sender looks over receiver’s scars 

[ BATHED ]  our muses take a shower together and receiver looks over sender’s scars. 

WORDS

❝  your scars are nothing to be ashamed of.  ❞

❝  why do you hide your scars?  ❞

❝  i see every mark as something to be proud of,  proof of all i survived.  ❞

❝  can i ask what happened here—  how did you get this one?  ❞

❝  sometimes i get these phantom pains i guess you could say.  little aches and i find them oddly comforting.  because my soul still hurts even if my body is healed.  ❞

❝  i wish i could get rid of my scars.  they’re just reminders of everything i want to forget.  ❞

❝  is it alright if i touch this scar?  ❞

❝  it’s okay—  you can touch it if you want.  doesn’t hurt anymore.  ❞

❝  please don’t touch it.  ❞

❝  you don’t have to tell me how you got it.  i just wanted to see.  ❞

❝  looks worse than it was.  ❞

❝  i want to kill every person responsible for leaving you scarred. ❞

❝  i made sure the people who left marks on me wouldn’t get the chance to do it again.  ❞

❝  woah—  what the hell happened there? ❞

❝  you don’t have to hide them around me.  the scars are just part of who you are.  and i like all of what i see.  ❞

❝  i don’t really like letting people see them.  ❞

❝  it’s okay—  honestly i forget they’re there most of the time.  ❞

[diedrobin]

❛ i don’t think i’ve seen you smile in a very long time. ❜

↳ assortment of prompts.

IT  STRIKES  HIM,   in  that  moment  when  they  are  coming  down  from  laughter  over  something  stupid  jason  had  said,  when  was  the  last  time  he  ever  felt  so  glad?  barbara  laughed  and  to  him  it  was  music,  sweeter  than  the  opera,  familiar  like  home  and  how  easily  he  laughed  with  her.  so  rare  it  was  he  felt  such  unadulterated  joy  that  his  chest  ached  with  longing  for  this  fleeting  feeling.  mellifluous  song  hushes  to  bright  eyes  and  warm  smiles,  he  doesn’t  remember  what  they  were  talking  about.  hardly  at  all  what  made  her  laugh,  but  only  that  she  laughed.  with  her  it  is  so  easy  to  forget  that  beyond  there  is  a  life  which  waits  for  them  in  gotham's  dark  heart.  with  her  they  are  two  people  who  have  suffered  and  overcome,  who  in  spite  of  it  all,  are  deserving  of  happiness.

where  they  lounge  on  her  couch  he  throws  his  arm  behind  its  rest;  for  once,  he  is  surrendered.  given  to  the  moment,  and  not  to  what  might  wait  in  the  dark  corners.  and  when  barbara  speaks  next  to  him  he  feels  very  fond.  sentimental,  maybe,  or  he’s  always  felt  like  that  when  she  is  involved.  “yeah,”  his  voice  which  harbors  apathy  is  placid,  changed  with  softness.  “it’s…  easy.  when  it’s  you.”  in  him  there  are  words  left  unspoken,  that  should  remain,  his  heart  still  beats  with  that  same  cadence  as  it  had  when  the  newest  robin  first  met  batgirl.  so  jason  looks  on  at  her,  not  through  a  timid  periphery  but  direct,  that  what  cannot  translate  through  voice  might  speak  from  the  dance  of  his  eyes.

this  is  wrong.  all  of  it,  all  of  it,  has  she  not  suffered  plenty?  doubt  is  such  an  unforgiving  thing,  unkind  and  parasitic.  of  late,  he  and  barbara  have  become  closer,  and  so  too  has  that  cyclical  thought;  you  will  hurt  her.  you  will  betray  her  trust.  you  will  kill  someone  (  someone  who  deserved  it!  )  and  you  will  prove  that  doubt  which  you  know  lingers  in  her  mind.  when  will  jason  todd  disappoint  me?  he  feels  the  fire  of  the  lazarus  licking  at  the  ropes  of  an  old  bridge  and  it's  swaying.  those  eyes  which  spoke  to  her  the  volumes  of  what  he  is  incapable  of  stray.  he  pulls  his  weight  from  the  couch  as  though  his  great  body  had  sunken  into  quicksand;  with  such  resistance,  reluctance.  “i  need  to  smoke.”  damn  it. 

he  flees  out  to  her  balcony.

[diedrobin]

“ your heart is beating so fast right now. ”

↳ assortment of prompts.

MOONLIGHT  IS  SCARCE  HERE,    when  in  gotham  it  would  bathe  their  bodies  in  blue-white  light  here  they  are  inundated  in  the  neon  flares  of  nueva  york’s  sleepless  night.  upon  a  high  tower  where  they  could  not  be  found  they  came  crashing,

to  absolve  themselves  of  carnal  proclivity  by  way  of  flesh.  hands  and  claws  pull  and  tear  at  armor  and  suit.  what  was  it  this  time,  that  sparked  insatiability  from  the  man  and  his  spider?  was  it  the  scent  of  blood,  or  how  it  stained  the  spider’s  teeth?  the  clap  of  bone,  white-knuckles  met  to  cheek?  or  was  it  the  fleeting  touch,  that  in  the  pursuit  of  prey  their  hands  met  prudent,  and  they  looked  at  each  other  with  some  unholy  knowing  of  what  will  come  when  they  are  alone?  every  time  they  are  loose  inside  this  city  they  are  as  destructive  and  as  loud  as  fired  bullets,  and  after  they  are  fallen  from  flight,  their  skin  still  runs  hot.

 “nn⸻not  like  you  can  blame  me,”  jason  battles  for  voice  alone,  just  to  speak  coherent  but  fuck  miguel  is  vicious.  they  both  are  wanting  but  his  loved  spider  more  so,  whose  talons  pull  back  into  the  tips  of  his  fingers  to  lay  his  hand  flush  beneath  the  snapped  belt  around  jason’s  hips.  blood  pools  within  his  low  belly  and  in  wake  miguel’s  finger’s  chase. “oh,  fuck!  wait,  baby,  wait,”  his  sighing  pleas  are  empty  but  with  want,  though  he  begs  for  mercy  his  hands  are  pulling  off  miguel’s  mask  and  tugging  into  his  knotted  curls.  their  mouths  are  met  with  vulgar  noise,  gnashing  teeth  and  wet  tongues,  and  when  jason  feels  that  cold  hand  grip  his  aching  cock  he  rears  back  his  head.  “mi—guel, ᵘʰᵎ”

rooftop  grit  bites  into  his  shoulders,  his  back  where  his  shirt  is  torn  by  talons  and  lines  aggravate  red  underneath.  the  heels  of  his  boots  dig  into  the  bitumen  as  he  purls  his  hips,  his  body  begs  for  the  tenacity  of  a  quick  fuck  but  miguel’s  hand  strokes  him  so  painfully  slow.  it’s  maddening.  it’s  torture.  “let  me,  let  me  touch  you,  i  need  you.”  babbles  jason’s  efforts  while  overhead  those  eyes  yellow-reflective  glare  with  instinct  and  desire.  helpless,  but  to  the  whims  of  his  spider.

[diedrobin]

𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗗𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗗 ?

good luck. (-:

[diedrobin]

❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜

↳ assortment of prompts.

JASON  IS  SAT  INSIDE  THE  MANOR’S  PARLOR,   wherein  he  and  the  master  of  the  home  converse  over  trivial  things  and  fuss  with  the  simplicities  of  appearances.  for  an  outsider  looking  in,  it  seems  as  though  they  might  be  arguing.  their  voices  project  equal  with  gravity  and  inimicality,  as  though  the  only  thing  missing  is  the  sound  of  bones  breaking.  “but  the  implications  of  being  proud  of  something  not  your  own  isn’t  even  realistic!  look,  bruce,  i  GET  epictetus  had  some  really  good  lines  in  his  enchiridion,  but  going  by  that  standard  how  can  you  be  proud  of  any  of  us?  right?  it’s  basically  saying  you  can  be,”  in  mockery  he  points  his  either  index  up  and  pushes  the  shape  of  the  cowl’s  ears  onto  his  head,  “proud  to  be  batman,  but  if  you’re  proud  of,  i  dunno,  barbara  for  whatever,  you’re  not  being  proud  of  something  that’s  your  own.” 

it  was  a  book  he  read  so  long  ago  now,  tasked  with  its  summarization  and  proved  understanding  of  the  text  by  the  man  now  at  his  back  where  he  is  sat.  this  evening  they  will  be  dressed,  though  not  in  costume.  already  jason  has  loosened  his  tie  and  let  it  hang  undone  in  two  ribbons  upon  his  collar  bones,  and  his  nerves  over  a  formal  public  appearance  amongst  the  rest  of  the  family  makes  him  ramble  and  fidget  until  bruce  tells  him  to  hold  still.  “what,  it’s  fine,  isn’t  it?  i  don’t  think  anyone’s  gonna  care  if  a  hair’s  outta  place.”  no,  he  thinks,  they  will  be  more  likely  to  care  about  the  stark  white  that  cuts  into  his  widow’s  peak.  the  blotch  of  skin  pale  and  without  pigment  that  crawls  along  his  hairline.  the  sparse  hairs  in  his  left  eyebrow  where  vitiligo  carries  further  down  his  brow.  god,  he  needs  a  cigarette.  “are  you  done?  i  need  a  smoke.”

it  will  be  the  first  time  in  thirteen  years  that  he  is  amongst  the  public;  not  as  the  red  hood,  but  as  jason  todd. 

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.

( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )

❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜

❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜

❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜

❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

❛ you’re not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜

❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 

❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜

❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜

❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜

❛ come back to bed. ❜

❛ you look good like this. ❜

❛ working together again, it’s just like old times. ❜

❛ how is it you always know what i need, huh? ❜

❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ 

❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜

❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜

❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜

❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜

❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜

❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 

❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜

❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

❛ we can't keep doing this. ❜ 

❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜

❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜

❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜

❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜

❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜

❛ you treat all your ladies like this? ❜

❛ well? how do i look? ❜

❛ can’t sleep? ❜

❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜

❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜

❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜

❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜

❛ i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. ❜

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜

❛ just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new. ❜

❛ i’d say we make a pretty good team. ❜

❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜

❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜

❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜

❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜

❛ fine, keep acting like you hate me. ❜

❛ kiss me again. ❜

❛ are you asking me out on a date? ❜

❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜

❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜

❛ well, i do feel better now that you're here. ❜

❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ 

❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜

❛ i was wrong about you. ❜ 

❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜

❛ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? ❜

❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜

❛ books mean more to me than people anyway. ❜

❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜

❛ how about a kiss goodnight? ❜

❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now. ❜

❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 

❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜

[diedrobin]

“I DIED SAVING SOMEONE I CARED ABOUT.   I DIED A HERO.”

[diedrobin]

the  first  time  a  cigarette  touched  his  lips  jason  was  ten  years  old.  encouraged  by  a  friend  of  his  father's,  who  often  would  come  to  their  small  apartment  to  supply  his  step-mother  with  narcotics.  it'll  make  you  into  a  man,  said  the  friend,  to  which  a  young  jason  felt  he  had  no  other  choice.  that  if  he  did  not  voluntarily  smoke,  he'd  be  made  to.  he  remembers  the  taste  of  the  first  drag,  and  how  it  burned  his  throat  and  his  lungs.  it  felt  like  fire  burning  him  from  the  inside.  it  tasted  like  leather  and  pollution.

[diedrobin]

lovebites … gently.

of  course,  jason  never  hears  miguel  before  he  sees  him.  or  in  this  case,  felt  him. “hi  baby.”  he  thumbs  into  the  spine  of  his  very  old,  very  loved  book  so  as  to  not  lose  his  place.  his  eyes  tear  from  its  page  in  search  of  his  love’s  carmine  gaze,  instead  to  look  to  where  his  mouth  is  rounded  over  the  hunch  of  jason’s  shoulder.  he  feels  miguel’s  canines  pushing  on  his  skin  with  just  the  subtle  pressure  of  the  weight  of  his  jaw. “i  should  put  my  book  down,  huh?”

[detectim]

holy shit? @diedrobin

[diedrobin]

just found out. jason died once cant believe it