deadly deadly boy, you have no ichor left in your veins. you are not holy, boy, i see the way you bleed. but you do not scream, my god, just scream. scream for me —- for i see the way you tremble. you bleed sins now, don’t you boy, for there is no red upon your shoulders. tombstone scars are raw on your skin, in your eyes. broken broken boy, you bleed sins these days, don’t you? // ind. jason todd / red hood, written by rey.
deadly deadly boy, you have no ichor left in your veins. you are not holy, boy, i see the way you bleed. but you do not scream, my god, just scream. scream for me —- for i see the way you tremble. you bleed sins now, don’t you boy, for there is no red upon your shoulders. tombstone scars are raw on your skin, in your eyes. broken broken boy, you bleed sins these days, don’t you? // ( ind. jason todd / red hood, written by rey / eliza ).
deadly deadly boy, you have no ichor left in your veins. you are not holy, boy, i see the way you bleed. but you do not scream, my god, just scream. scream for me —- i see the way you tremble. you bleed sins now, don’t you boy, for there is no red upon your shoulders. tombstone scars are raw on your skin, in your eyes. broken broken boy, you bleed sins these days, don’t you?
// ind. jason todd / red hood, written by rey.
whatever doesn’t kill me …
brandon’s sigh is so heavy that you could probably feel its weight all the way across the gym. he grumbles then when the blood returns to his chilled veins, something about i’m not looking at you like anything, mumbled under his breath as his shoulders lose their tense ridge. jason’s fine, he tells himself, other hand curling around the back of the vigilante’s neck to cradle the base of his head, fingers brushing loose black waves. he’s fine. he’s breathing. he’s fine.
brandon slumps against him then, trying to let the panic ebb out. visions of electric scarring, swollen limbs, twitching contusions and split spines dance behind his eyelids —- but he pushes them away and holds on to jason’s shirt. quietly, then: ❝ … ‘m sorry. ❞
jason takes light measures to briefly suppress the small bit of laughter that bubbles in his throat at brandon’s sigh; it’s a sound he’s not all that unaccustomed to, given it’s exasperation is practically a part of daily routine by this point. so to hear it now is not all that unexpected. but he reins it back in when brandon’s head dips, an apology muttered into the fabric of his shirt, and scales it down to a soft grin. he knows it’s hard for brandon -- hard to feel even the slightest bit out of control with powers as volatile as these. he knows how much brandon fears it, fears hurting the people he cares about.
so he drops a hand over the nap of brandon’s neck with a huff of his own. ‘ yeah, well. that’ll teach me t’ say hit harder, huh? ’ really its his own fault for egging the avenger on in the first place.
ofresurrection replied to your post:this is my new favorite thing
fuckin nerds
they are Beautiful
fuCKIN NERDS
My kink is people underestimating me and ending up wrong and embarrassed
“Maybe we should chuck this whole sidekick thing and just be partners!”
/ blows the dust off this blog tbh
jaytim #27 if you dont mind!
I DO mind, actually. Sorry! D8
