IS THAT HIS WIFE BACK ON THE DASH?

#dc comics#batman#dc#dick grayson#tim drake#bruce wayne#batfam#batfamily#dc fanart





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IS THAT HIS WIFE BACK ON THE DASH?
“ ----- oh my god , i --- i’m so sorry ! i --- i didn’t mean --------- ! ! ! “
// @viciousharem liked !
it hurt. everything hurt. his heart, his soul, his head. his fucking fingers. everything in him told him it was a dream-- that it wasn’t real. he was hallucinating, surely. all he had to do was wake up. the traffic lights were beautiful at night. so beautiful-- like millions of stars moving in time with eachother. breath falls past his lips, sanguine and cold-- puffs of hot air fill the frigid winds. his fingers are numb, wrapped onto the cold bars, installed for the exact purpose of preventing what he was about to do.
why? how? what had happened for things to get this fucked up? his heart ached, pounds within his chest dully, like a dead weight. he didn’t want it anymore. he wants to open himself up, like a machine, and throw it out. he never thought he would get to this point-- so dull, so lifeless. he doesn’t care about anything. not even his granpda-- the one who had kept him going for so long. he stares at the busy road below. would he die from being hit by a car? or maybe landing on the cement?
shakily, he steps onto the ledge, eyelashes flutter in thought. he’s lost everything. he doesn’t want to try. he feels a set of eyes on him, burning into his back, makes him stare outwards. he could jump right now. he could end it-- not come back. yet something pulls at him, tells him to turn around, to look, to live. to breathe. he takes in a small breath, cloudy eyes look behind him. there’s a woman there, staring at him, eyes soft.
there’s something so warm about her-- so nice and loving, surrounded by the cold darkness of the night. his throat tightens, eyes stinging with the thought of tears. he thought he was done crying. yet he cant stop the tears that roll down his cheeks, slightly plump with the quickly fleeing baby-fat. it was like she knew. it was like she understood everything that went wrong. he muffles a sob with the back of his hand, steps away from the ledge.
another sob, this time freely flowing out into the cold air. he’s so weak, so vulnerable-- and he finds that he doesn’t mind. not around her. it’s so strange to him; so foreign. he doesn’t mind being weak in front of this woman, mostly because he’s lost everything. but there’s another reason-- lingering deep within his heart, unspoken. his legs move, and he’s hurling himself into the woman’s arms-- muffling his sobs into her chest. it hurt. god, it hurt.
but he can’t help but feel safe-- like nothing can get to him anymore when he’s wrapped in this facade of warmth.
---( @viciousharem )
“WELL IF IT ISN’T VICTORIA, as I live and breathe. How’s that arm treating you? You’ve been missed I hope you know. My wife shouldn’t be gone for too long or else I start playing with others.” - @viciousharem
“Victoria, consider this my wedding proposal.” - @viciousharem
viciousharem replied to your post: Loses followers from my shit posting.
the strongest shall remain
{{ I’ll write ONE SERIOUS REPLY BEFORE I GO TO SLEEP. SO EVERYONE CAN BE HAPPY. }}