#fight or fuck jason is entertained either way

[redjaybathood]

For the ship meme, could you do Jaytim please?

You gotta be more specific. I am so out of touch with the fandom life nowadays, I have no idea which ship meme it is. Based on search - which, you know what it is like - it could be either a brutally honest opinion or one of the two bingos.

I will go for the opinion.

DON'T MAKE THEM FUCK - MAKE THEM FIGHT!

I don't know, they just work for me better this way! I'm a hater, not a lover, I love to hate!

Doesn't mean I cannot come up with at least five feasible (imo) Jaytim plots from various eras and canons.

But I do sincerely think that they would work better as rivals if not enemies. In canon, too. A lot of fans, especially the ones who prefer Tim over Jason - or anyone over Jason - have an issue with New 52 Tim's friendship with Jason. Let's listen to them and allow them both to be petty about each other as they should. Fighting to blood is optional. This satisfies Jason haters AND Jason fans because it's going back to the roots of unhinged daddy issues in the entertaining way and not depressing way Jason Todd. And this would be the reason for more interaction between Jason and Tim, so food for Jaytim fans as well!

Best of all worlds, I would say.

[ravetamer]

thank you op for indirectly inviting me in the tags to rant about horror movies and analyse characters from my favourite autism game MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!!

starting off difficult with jesse. they would probably be turned away from extreme splatter but i can imagine they’d enjoy getting shocked by the occasional gore. it’d probably need some level of depth to it too so they can make excuses and say they watch it for the plot and not the visuals. i don’t think they’d be the type to go out of their way and pick up a horror movie so i’m gonna go with the mist or mulholland drive or sinister because they’re relatively well-known and jesse likes feeling things in the media they watch. cus BOY do those films gutpunch the viewer.

i know axel would love psycho goreman. it’s chaotic, hilarious, bloody, and it doesn’t take itself seriously at all. it’s a great romp but absolutely fucking insane. either that or some other ridiculously over the top thing like thankskilling or terrifier. crazy shit filled with ludicrous amounts of guts. he’s in it for the fun! sometimes he even watches hilariously shitty horror movies for entertainment's sake, like jaws 3d and jason takes manhattan.

olivia would love dystopian themes and cosmic horror hands-down. visuals that absolutely blow your mind and amaze you. the plot can’t be too weak however because she LOVES getting invested in well-written/likeable characters and rooting for them, cheering when they win and freaking out when they die. she also likes sci-fi, particularly complex machinery (as an engineer) and finds great joy in picking apart the devices in poorly-made sci-fi films to defend the genre’s honour. she would love 28 days later, the thing, and ex machina because you KNOW she needs dramatic flair in her movies

petra would probably like high-intensity films that have a ruthless protagonist and lots of blood in their action scenes. i also think she’d be put off by heavy fantasy themes. because of her nature she could also be a huge sucker for revenge films where the protagonist bites back at the people who wronged them. when she watches horror, she mainly watches for the violence and loves well-choreographed fights. still, the movies should be intelligent, not having bad writing that's just 'kill kill kill' so i’m gonna say mandy, lady snowblood, and i saw the devil because they’re all intense and have a protagonist who KICKS ASS

lukas wouldn’t watch horror movies (he’s more of an epic saga/documentary guy) but he might be willing to watch old ones such as jurassic park (which isn’t really horror) and gremlins and the exorcist (and secretly enjoy them on the odd occasion). nothing to genuinely scream about, just some fun to pass the time and appreciate the effects cus that man ADORES the art of cinema. if you took him to terrifier he’d never touch horror again. i can imagine axel forcing him to watch it with the gang lmao

Olivia: Favorite horror movie?

Jesse: It.

Axel: Saw.

Petra: Annabelle.

Lukas: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my school years terrified that the everyone would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics.

[sansypansy]

Tim: Yeah, we're enemies, but i would fuck you if you asked

Damian: [blushing] What

Tim: [blushing] What

Jason: [eating popcorn in the background] He said he would fuck you if you asked.

[3d-wifey]

you should totally write a second part to “I am real and you are not.” Jason Carver smut would be just *CHEFS KISS*

I Am Real and You Are Not pt.2

Pairing: Jason Carver x Reader

Synopsis: It was odd. Whenever he pictured his future, Jason always thought he'd settle down with a nice girl and have a quiet, if not boring, marriage. That was just the way it was; no other alternative. But now, he couldn't imagine a future where he wasn't under you like this. Exactly where he belonged.

Word Count: 960

Warning: Smut, nothing but smut, same warnings as the first one, but this one is so blasphemous that the only way it could get worse is if it took place in a church

A/N: I got really itchy after writing this, I think that was god warning me or something :/ @unsheath hope it lives up to the hype 💀

You hadn't taken him far. In fact, you had led him to his car and impatiently waited as he fumbled with the keys. Jason was used to having fun with girls in his backseat. He was used to girls riding him in his car. But never with a girl like you.

And never like this.

You felt soft on his lap. Soft and warm. He trailed his hands up soft thighs to soft hips and settled on a soft waist. If you felt this good now, he couldn't imagine what you felt like under your clothes. One of his hands started making its way under your "Hellfire Club" shirt when you stopped him with a pop to the check. It was hard enough to leave a sting.

"Tell me, are you dumb or stupid, Jason?"

"N-neither, I just thought—"

"Well, I didn't bring you out here to think since you're clearly not good at it." You unbuttoned his pants, but he must have made a particularly stupid expression since you paused.

"Did you honestly think I was gonna let you fuck me? Seriously," you scoffed, he leaned into your hand as you laced your fingers through his hair, shaking his head from side to side, "Don't answer that, I don't care what's going on up here." You took his hands off your waist and placed them on either side of him and he missed the feel of you already.

"You don't touch me, I touch you. Understand?" You didn't wait for his answer before pulling his pants to his mid-thigh, but he nodded anyway.

This was wrong. He shouldn't enjoy this as much as he did. Shouldn't need it, but his hips still pressed into you all the same. You pulled his boxers down and Jason felt like praying.

He was still as hard as he was in the hallway, the only difference was the mess he made all over himself. Your face was blank as you stared down at him. He could feel your eyes travel the length of him while expressing nothing and if Jason blushed any harder, he might pass out.

"You're embarrassed," he hissed as you took him in hand, tightening at the base and twisting as you went up, "Good. You should be. Isn't it humiliating that you want me to do this? Isn't it shameful to God that a "satanist" is touching you like this?" Your thumb swiped over his slit and he wondered. Did you do this with Munson or any other freak in your group? His train of thought was cut off by another slap before you stopped jerking him off and Jason honest to God whined at the loss.

"That wasn't rhetorical."

"'S bad. Sinful. 'M sorry." He panted, dull nails digging into the leather of his seats. He wanted to touch you so bad it hurt.

You leaned in, breath puffing against his lips, and for one blissful moment, he thought you were going to kiss him. He wanted it so bad he could picture it, your plush lips against his own. Your tongue pressing into his mouth, taking what you wanted from him. He had to fight himself so he wouldn't surge forward.

"It's not me you have to apologize to."

He couldn't say for certain, but he had a feeling this was a part of the game you played. He didn't know if this turned you on, didn't know if you truly hated him or not. But Jason did know that you found him entertaining, and had an inking suspension that you enjoyed doing this to him just as much as he enjoyed you doing it. And if being entertaining kept your eyes on him, then Jason would put on a fucking show.

"Our f-ather," his voice cracked, vocal cords unused to making any sounds other than moans, "who art in heaven —"

"Louder." You cut him off and Jason paused. He bit back a moan before continuing when you trailed a finger up the underside of his cock.

"Our father—" His cheek buzzed with pain as you slapped him again, cutting off his prayer, but sending volts straight to his cock.

"Are you deaf? I said louder, Jason. God can't hear you when you mumble." At that moment Jason resigned himself to whatever fate you led him to. No amount of repenting would absolve him of this.

"Our father, who--who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come," the muscles in his thighs jumped as you scratched your nails over his exposed thighs, "thy will b...be done on earth as it is in heaven—shit." He was close, so close.

"Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us." You leaned back to spit into your hand and Jason had to take a breath. Said breath tumbled into a moan when you grabbed him with both hands. He felt hot all over. Skin prickling with heat and eyes blurring with tears.

"And l-lead us not into temptation, but de...deliver us from evil—fuck!" He barely finished before he finished, cumming harder than should be humanly possible. His chest heaved as his cum soaked into the cloth of his shirt.

It was odd. Whenever he pictured his future, Jason always thought he'd settle down with a nice girl and have a quiet, if not boring, marriage. That was just the way it was; no other alternative. But now, he couldn't imagine a future where he wasn't under you like this. Exactly where he belonged.

He stared up at you, eyes at half-mast as you wiped the cum on your hand onto his collared shirt with the closest thing he had seen to a smile on your face.

"Amen."

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 9: Heroes and Villains (Discovery)

Prev

AO3

It wasn’t the toughest akuma that they had ever faced. But even with both of them fighting, it took too long. So long that her family was sure to be suspicious. Despite the fact that she just wanted to portal back to the hotel where there would be far fewer questions, she knew she didn’t have that luxury.

“Kaalki, if I ask to go to an empty room in the manor, can you do that? I don’t wanna pop out of nowhere. I’m already dreading the questions we’re gonna get about Adrien disappearing.” Marinette asks the kwami, rolling her eyes at Adrien’s annoyed huff.

“If you had just taken me with you to begin with-”

“To the bathroom? Adrien, I know you’re not the best with social situations but even you know that’s weird, right? And besides, there’s no way Dick would’ve let you follow me. He’s hovered every time we’ve been alone.” Marinette reminds him, crossing her arms.

“We were bonding over humor!” Adrien argues.

“Sure! But I still-”

“Ladybug, I can do it. As entertaining as all of this is, the Wayne family should not be kept waiting.” Kaalki reminds her, a small smirk on their face. Marinette’s eye twitches at the reminder of her family. Okay. One problem at a time.

“Okay. I’m trusting you. Tikki, Kaalki unify. Voyage!” Marinette calls, grabbing Adrien’s hand and stepping through the portal. She glances around the room, frowning as she looks at everything. None of it made sense. It looked kind of what she would imagine from-

“Is this the Batcave?” Adrien asks, mouth wide in shock as he slowly turns in a circle.

“Kaalki, dismount.” Marinette says, glaring at the kwami the second they’re visible again. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

“You asked to go to an empty room in the manor. I simply took you to the most famous room. It truly is a crime that you’ve never been in here before.” Kaalki hums, zipping around the space.

“I’ve only been to the manor twice! And this is in the manor? Does Batman work for Mr. Wayne?” She asks, desperately trying to figure out the situation.

“LB, what if he is Batman?” Adrien asks, making her pale.

“He’d figure me out so quickly. Oh god, what are we gonna do? He’s gonna kick me out of the family and I was just starting to be able to breathe around them and think about the fact that they are my family and now I’m going to go back to being an only child and even though Dick can be annoying and I haven’t really talked a lot to the others I really wanted to get to know them and now I’ll never get the chance because I’m a failed superhero who can’t even defeat one measly villain and he’s gonna take away my Miraculous and then he’s gonna be Ladybug but then it’ll be weird and he’ll hate me even more because red is not his color but he’ll be stuck in red because that’s what Paris is used to for the Ladybug costume and we don’t want them to go into shock when I’m replaced and-”

“Who the fuck are you?” A voice asks, clearly angry. Marinette winces and turns, eyes wide when she notices the actual (REAL) gun in Jason’s hands.

“We’re not meant to be here. There was a mistake with transportation and-” Marinette starts, stumbling over her words as she tries not to panic even more.

“Likely story. Don’t fucking move. I’m calling Batman.” Jason says, glaring at the two before pulling out his phone. “Hey B, there’s a situation in the cave. Intruders. No, I have no fucking clue how they got in here. Yeah, there’s two of them. No, no it’s not them. Yeah well I kinda can’t fucking interrogate them by myself now can I?” There’s a pause. “Yeah no, not wearing that. Yeah thanks for that. Well I didn’t- Just get over here.”

“So is Batman coming?” Adrien asks, the excitement clear on his face. Marinette looks at him in annoyance. She loved the boy but sometimes, he had no sense of self preservation.

“Yeah, Batman’s coming. Why the fuck are you here?” Jason asks, the angry look on his face not matching the personality she had seen every other time she’d seen him.

“Why are we here? Why are you here?” Adrien asks, poking. Jason’s eyes narrow and his glare gets darker.

“We’re here to ask Batman for help with a situation.” Marinette blurts, shifting so that she’s slightly in front of Adrien since he kept saying things that were pissing Jason off. Jason frowns.

“Why do you need help from Batman?” He asks.

“Ladybug, Chat Noir. I’ll admit I didn’t expect to see either of you here.” A gruff voice states, walking towards them. Marinette’s eyes widen. Holy vigilante, that's Batman. And he’s not looking at her as a civilian who could be scared. Nope. Now he’s looking at her as a fellow hero and possible intruder. Oh this should be fun.

“Monsieur Batman. I apologize for our intrusion. I meant to bring us to Gotham, to speak with you, but I must have messed up. I’m truly sorry for appearing in your home like this.” She says, extending her hand for a handshake. Batman glances down at her hand, seeming to hesitate for a moment before reaching out and shaking her hand.

“As long as you are here, we might as well talk about the Paris situation. It has recently come to my attention and I’m concerned about the possibility of death in your city.” Batman says, getting straight to business.

“I’m sorry, what the actual fuck is happening in Paris? And why haven’t I heard anything about it? Actually, why hasn’t anyone heard about a situation in Paris?” Jason asks, actually glaring at Batman.

“It doesn’t concern you, Mr. Todd. You may leave now. We’ll have our meeting another time.” Batman says, his tone firm.

“The hell it doesn’t. My baby sister lives in Paris, and I’d be damned if I left her alone in some kind of hellscape where apparently there’s the possibility of a lot of death. Now can someone tell me what is going on in Paris?” Jason yells, his eyes blazing as he glares at Batman. Marinette blinks at her brother, shocked at his reaction. Did he really care that much?

“It’d probably be easier to show you. Do you mind?” Adrien asks, gesturing to the computer. Batman stiffens.

“I’ll pull it up. I’m sure you’re referring to the videos of previous fights. I have them in a folder.” He says, walking over and hitting several buttons. Before long, a video is pulled up on the gigantic screen. A video of the fight against Syren. Of course he had to choose one of the most dangerous akumas. Instead of watching the screen, Marinette watches her brother’s reactions. Flinching slightly as she hears his knuckles crack from how tightly he’s clenching his fists.

“How long has this been going on?” He asks simply, his voice much darker than she’d ever heard.

“Almost two years.” Marinette responds, frowning at him. She hadn’t known him long, and she knew it would be stupid as Ladybug, but Marinette wanted to hug her older brother. He looked pissed, sure, but underneath the initial anger, she could see the worry. And how unsure he was. She couldn’t be certain that all of the worry was aimed at her or the Paris situation, but she knew at least some of it was. And she felt bad for making him worry like that.

“And where has the Justice League been?” He asks Batman, almost snarling.

“There’s no lasting damage.” Marinette says. “Even if the Justice League had shown up, they couldn’t have done anything that Chat or I couldn’t. My power is to erase the damage, and death, done during our battles. So Monsieur Batman, you don’t have to worry about the possible death either. I assure you both, it’s fine. We could use assistance to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity though.” Marinette says, trying to move the subject away from death and injury and the rougher parts of akuma battles.

“I don’t give a damn if the damage isn’t lasting. You remember, right?” Jason asks. Marinette hesitates.

“Well, yes. But the akumatized victims don’t and-”

“No. See, I don’t care about the akumatized victims right now either. I care about the amount of death and destruction and pain my sister has had to deal with alone. What about the people who die, Ladybug? Do they remember that they died? Do they wake up after drowning or burning or being crushed to death and just be told to be thankful that it wasn’t permanent? Or do they get to forget too?” Jason asks through clenched teeth. Marinette stops, thinking of all the times buildings have fallen on her. The times she's watched friends die. The time Tikki had to take the earrings and Marinette woke up after the battle, still able to feel the metal in her chest. The time she saw a world draped in white, only one other person left in the entire world. She thinks of these times, and she sighs.

"No. They don't forget." She says, biting back the wave of emotion threatening to push her under. She can't. She has to focus. She can't break right now.

"Then I don't care about the rest of Paris. What are you doing to protect Marinette Dupain Cheng?" He asks, crossing his arms and staring her down. She blinks. She gets that he's worried, as her brother, but why would they have special protection for one person? She's about to ask when Batman speaks up instead.

"No worries, Mr. Todd. My team and I have been made aware and have prepared a security detail for Miss Dupain Cheng once she returns to Paris." Batman says simply. Marinette's eyes widen. No. Oh no. No, no, no, she can't be watched! How's she supposed to protect Paris if an American superhero and his team are stalking her to make sure she's safe?

"As a former Miraculous wielder, Marinette is already under our protection." She lies, ignoring the shocked look Adrien is giving her.

"I'm sorry, what? Former- She was a hero?!" Jason yells, the panic clear on his face.

"Yes, but she was compromised so she doesn't work with us anymore." Marinette says, hoping to calm him down. It doesn't work.

"She was compromised! And you abandoned her? What the hell is wrong with you?" He yells as he starts to pace the room.

"Mr. Todd, it might be best if you-" Batman starts, holding his hands up placatingly.

"I don't wanna fucking hear it, B. You might be okay with watching a bunch of kids run around in costumes and have near death experiences but I'm not watching it. Not again. Now whatever this meeting is can wait, because my sister is currently missing and Batman over here needs to go find her. Because we need to wrap her in some goddamned bubble wrap because apparently this family is a fucking trouble magnet. And if you two are going to be in Gotham, then you can go help look for her too." Jason says, turning and starting to storm off. He pauses and turns back to the group of heroes- vigilantes?- "And her friend Adrien. I'm not sure how we'll fund him, stupid magic light thingy. But Marinette's gonna be pissed if she gets back and her boy toy is missing." He turns and actually leaves this time. Marinette turns to Batman and raises an eyebrow. A silent question on what the next step is. Batman frowns.

"As much as I dislike taking orders from civilians, he's right. Mr. Wayne asked my team to look for Miss Dupain Cheng. I assume the two of you will stay to help." He says. Marinette shakes her head.

"Unfortunately, we're going to have to leave. But we'll be in contact." Marinette says with a quick smile before calling Kaalki's transformation and creating a portal. Repeatedly thinking 'unused bedroom in Wayne manor, she steps through without waiting for a response from Batman, tugging Adrien along. Glancing around, she sighs in relief when she realizes the Kwami didn't take them to another secret lair.

"That was intense." Adrien says, dropping his transformation.

"I need extra Camembert after that disaster." Plagg says with a smirk. Marinette drops her transformation, stifling a giggle at the annoyed look on Tikki’s face.

"It wouldn't have been a disaster if you hadn't convinced Kaalki to do that!" She says angrily. Marinette’s previous humor instantly disappears and she turns to Plagg.

"Plagg, what is she talking about?" She asks, glaring at the Kwami.

"Now, pigtails, don't do anything rash, but the Batcave was my idea." He blurts out.

"I take offense to that. I brought them there!" Kaalki exclaims with a pout.

"Yeah, but I'm the one who found out. And told you and Sugar Cube." Plagg counters making Kaalki roll their eyes.

"Oh puhlease, you wouldn't have known what it was if I hadn't followed you." They say, chin high in the air.

"So apparently Batman is looking for us. What're the odds Mr. Wayne is just working for Batman and not actually Batman himself?" Marinette asks, giving Adrien a hopeful look.

"I think they're the same odds that no one in your family will ask questions about where we were." He says with a shrug. Marinette groans.

"I can't believe my dad is Batman." She drops her head into her hands, taking a moment to breathe before a thought pops into her head.

"Do you think my brothers are the rest of them? Oh god. Damian is totally Robin, and Tim is Red Robin. Which would make Jason Red Hood 'cause Nightwing's hair is completely black. Oh my god. I'm in a family of vigilantes!" She groans, huffing in annoyance.

"What's so bad about that? They'll be even more likely to help us find Hawkmoth." Adrien says, still looking on the bright side.

"That's if they let me out of their sight. You heard Jason, and Mr. Wayne. They want to put a security detail on me and they think I'm a civilian! What’re they gonna do when they realize I’m a superhero too?” Marinette moans, various situations running through her head. She takes a few steadying breaths to try and stave off the panic. They won’t find out, right?

---

Jason kicks a chair he walks past, mumbling under his breath. Bruce hadn’t acted surprised or anything, so apparently he already knew about the situation. Knew and didn’t say shit to anyone else. Of course he did. Jason would’ve cared a few days ago, sure he would’ve. But now he cares. Because now his tiny sister is in danger and he’d be damned if he let her go back to Paris without protection. Hell, he’ll go with if he has to. Anything to keep her safe. To stop her from dying. Or, dying again. And apparently she was a hero in Paris at some point. And she was compromised. And then abandoned. What a pile of shit. Huffing in frustration, he resists the urge to run back to the cave and start shooting. Instead he walks towards his room to grab the keys he’d thrown in there earlier when he got to the manor for dinner. Turning the corner, he freezes in shock when he sees Marinette and Adrien standing there, Adrien gently patting her back as she looks close to panicked.

“Marinette!” Jason calls, running towards her and sweeping her up in a big hug. He didn’t want to let her go. If he let her go, she’d go back to Paris. She’d have to deal with a supervillain and death and horrible things. She was too young for that. He, of all people, would know.

“Jay. Can’t breathe. Please.” She chokes out. Jason lets her down, then glares at her.

“Where the hell have you been? I thought you were going to the bathroom?” He asks, frowning as she grows even paler.

“Uh, er, I was?” She says, sounding more like a question. He narrows his eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yes?” She asks, eye twitching. Jason sighs.

“If you don’t wanna tell me Pixie Pop, you don’t have to. But you are gonna have to tell B.” He says.

“Batman?!” She shrieks, eyes wide. Jason shakes his head, panic welling up.

“No, why- B’s what I call Bruce. Why would you think I was talking about Batman?” He asks, gesturing wildly.

“Because that’s what you called Batman on the phone!” She counters, freezing the second the words are out of her mouth.

“Wait, what? When did you-” Jason stops, a horrible feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. No. She can’t.

“Wait no, I- oh crap.” She mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You’re Ladybug.” Jason says, his ears ringing as he looks down at his sister. Well fuck.

---

Dick sighs, turning around in a circle as he looks at the closing shops around him. Where could Marinette have gone? Why did she leave? If she was overwhelmed they would have driven her back to her hotel. She didn’t have to try and walk back by herself. Especially this late. And in Gotham of all places. His phone ringing tugged him from his thoughts and he answered without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?” He says, trying hard to push down the worry and focus on the phone call.

”Hey Dick. I found them.” Jay says, sounding tired. Dick lets out a sigh of relief.

“Where were they?” He asks.

”In the manor. Look, I think we all need to have a talk. You should probably come home. And grab Replacement and Demon Spawn on the way back.” Jason says. Dick frowns. How were they in the manor? They all looked in the manor, they were not there.

“Okay, yeah. On my way.” Dick says instead. This should be interesting.

---

Marinette tries to ignore the burning stare from Jason as she grips onto Adrien’s hand. This could be a huge mistake, but it could also help them find Hawkmoth. And take him down for good. The idea of that is too great to give up. So no matter how much it makes her want to puke with nerves, she’d tell her family the truth. That she’s Ladybug. She was sure they’d understand, being the infamous Batfamily and everything.

“Sorry about that, Timmy insisted on grabbing some coffee on the way back. Where’s B?” Dick asks, and Marinette winces at the nickname. Why her brothers thought it was a good idea to call Mr. Wayne ‘B’ as both Batman and Bruce Wayne was beyond her. They’d had secret identities much longer (though after today she wasn’t sure how).

“Now that we are all here, could you explain why you insisted on this meeting, Jason?” Mr. Wayne asks, sat in the same chair he’d been in when the evening had first started. Marinette glances around at her siblings, smiling softly back at Cass who seemed to be trying to reassure her without signing or saying anything.

“Marinette is Ladybug.” Jason blurts out, instead of dropping the bomb slowly like they’d discussed. Silence. Just as Mr. Wayne opens his mouth, Marinette blurts out:

“Yeah, well you’re the Batfamily!” Oops.

Next

Tag List: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @imarivers8 

[maximummuses]

He doesn't know how all of that makes him feel. Not knowing for sure is the worst thing about all of this. There was a reason why he didn't ever entertain this kind of thought.

He doesn't buy the idea of him ever being brothers with Dick and Tim, or anyone for that matter. Dick had his time to try and be a good big brother. He had two years to play that role for Jason. He lost it for good. And Tim? After how Jason picked a fight with him in Titans Tower (fighting Tim might just be a constant), he doesn't see that one coming true either. "Why Red Hood?" He tries to stop himself from saying but fails. He knows the history of the name, and he can't imagine ever taking it for himself. Not when this was an option. Not when declaring war was on the table. Could I ever have that life? He thinks to himself, before answering back I never had a chance. Not for a second. Even if he could, he burned that bridge himself.

The part about the memory... Jason doesn't know if that's the best part or the worst part. He hasn't gotten a good night's sleep since he was fifteen. Every since then, his sleepless nights play the soundtrack to his murder on loop. He can't look at any loose metal without imagining the sound of it breaking his skull open. In the back of his mind, he hears the Joker laughing. It haunts him all the time. Even now. Alfred would know what's wrong. Leslie would know what's wrong. Going to them isn't an option anymore. Sometimes he thinks he's better off knowing everything that happened, only that he was killed and he remains unavenged. But then he thinks that not knowing what happened to him is even worse. And therapy? Forget that. Even ignoring the logistics of finding a civilian therapist he can trust, Jason just knows that talking about it will do nothing. He'd rather take action. Action is what helps. His way of fighting is what helps.

"Stop. Just... stop." Bruce didn't care. He never fucking cared. He would have put the Joker in the ground once and for all if he did. He would have avenged Jason if he did. He would have treated Jason as a son and not as a disposable thing to be pointed at the enemy if he did. No. Bruce doesn't care. And he doesn't want to hear about this other world anymore.

He saw it and heard it. The calmer words, the shift in body language. It helped him settle a little too now that he wasn't in immediate danger at least for now.

"You do. He goes by Red Hood and he and Nightwing are my brothers." His expression shifted go something soft and fond. "He's been through hell, every version of you has and it sucks. He almost killed me when we first crossed paths." He shifted his weight as the old scar there ached. There wasn't really a problem there; it had long since healed over with no complications. Psychosomatic. "Superboy got me home in time though. It took a while for me to trust him but we're pretty close now or at least, I'd like to think that we are. Not as close as I am with Nightwing, I've had more time with him, but we patrol together. He designed and made custom pistols and ammo that he lets me help test and tinker with."

His rocking eased as he noted the danger had lessened at least for now.

"He and Alfred do most of the cooking. We all have to do a little bit in the Belfry. Nightwing's an okay cook, I get distracted easily so I have to have someone with me, Batgirl's pretty decent too." His smile faded into something more sombre. "He has a lot of blank and fuzzy spots in his memory. Some things are starting to come back but there's no guarantee that everything will come back."

Tim personally thought that Jason might be better off not remembering given the horror of what Jason had shared of what he could remember. "Even then, things aren't clear. Bits and pieces have apparently come back in nightmares. Therapy's been helping at least with the stuff he can talk about with a civilian, I think he's been going for a little over a year now? He still has his bad days but we all do. Batgirl still needs her wheelchair sometimes, Nightwing is falling asleep at the table surrounded with CEO work, I go nonverbal after really bad patrols."

He swallowed. "We started finding some of Batman's old audio logs in secret caches he left for himself around the city. There was... one about him. Right after his death. He... locked himself away in his room for a solid two days. Wouldn't let anyone in." His arms wrapped around himself, eyes lowering a little behind the lenses of the domino. "Honestly I didn't blame him. Hearing B that... broken? It was hard on all of us. "

[screamqueenkrueger]

The next chapter of Right into the Fire is in the works I promise. In the meantime have my Jason fic.

In The Dusk

Jason Voorhees x Paulina Lawrence

I just wanted to write Paulina getting absolutely pounded by Jason Voorhees. So I did

Dub con sorta? Choking. Size difference. Multiple orgasms. Jason is mute.

He had her.

Fury at herself for letting him sneak up on her flared harshly in Paulina's chest. How had he snuck up on her? He was so big, lumbering, she should have heard him from a mile away. Crunching leaves and branches under heavy boots.

But she hadn't, and now he had her. Paulina couldn't even safely blame the wind or the sound of the lake lapping at the shore. None of that should have mattered. She had been trained better than this.

He'd grabbed her face first, putting his giant palm over her mouth to stifle the scream she was sure to make. She didn't scream. His other arm wrapped around her body in a vice-like grip, lifting her into the air as if she were nothing but a ragdoll. Fuck he's gotta be like three times my size.

She should be struggling more, or at all, that was the logical reaction. But the anger at herself was quickly being washed away by another emotion, a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach which had her limp in his grasp.

Oh no. Oh GOD what's wrong with me?

His hand clasped the entirety of her lower face. It could probably grab her entire head like a softball. The arm around her, a thick band of steel. And the body beneath her, which she thought would be cold to the touch for some reason, was burning hot against her back. He had her against his chest, the mask pressing into the side of her face as he seemed to decide just how he wanted to end her, his breath coming harsh along her cheek. He smelled like wet cedarwood.

And all of this was making her thigh shakingly wet.

Jason had her pinned there. Paulina gave an experimental wriggle and the grip on her tightened. What was taking him so long? She'd expected him to just snap her neck. Or was he just trying to think of something more entertaining? Either way the longer he had her the hotter she got between her legs.

Paulina had to think of something, and not all of the plans flitting through her head included escaping. If she could get him to fuck her good before killing her, she could probably die happy in that post nut glow. She just had to think of a way to get things started without getting ganked off immediately. The horny people always died first after all. She wriggled some more, mostly to keep up the illusion, and also to feel more of him. Her hands were stuck to her side but she was able to grab at his tattered jacket. Jason grunted at her, almost as if he was curious about what the fuck she was doing.

Then his thumb pressed her nostrils closed. Now the fight was on. She couldn't breathe and she wasn't going out like this. Fuck that. She was thrashing now, so much so Jason actually stumbled back. He probably hadn't expected someone so small to be this difficult to restrain. But Paulina wasn't exactly human either, stronger than what her small frame belied.

She felt him step back then jolt to a stop with a grunt. His back had hit a tree. Jason tried to get control of her, the hand over her mouth gripping her so tightly she felt her jaw begin to ache. Holy shit she shouldn't be this ready to go.

In an act of more desperation than anything, for the dick or for life Paulina would never be sure, she reached back and began pawing at whatever part of him she could reach. She was still wet and ready to go, she could feel the throbbing need even as her lungs burned for air and black spots swam at the edges of her vision. She should probably be concerned that the risk to her life didn't dry her up, but she was too busy stroking at his thighs to be worried about that.

Trembling fingers found the button to Jason's pants, and as she quickly unbuttoned them the hard body behind her went rigid. His hand went slack over her mouth, letting her inhale quickly before he caught himself and gripped her jaw tight enough to make the bones creak. As soon as she had his pants open she stroked at his navel, right over the soft skin above his dick. She tried to be slow, but she was growing really desperate now. Paulina had never been good at teasing anyway. No patience for it.

It was working though, or she thought it was anyway. Jason's breathing was becoming uneven. It would hitch at points, almost as if he was holding his breath, waiting to see what she would do.

Come on, come on. She thought desperately, fuck does he even know what I'm trying to do?

The arm around her midsection pulled her impossibly closer, pressing Paulina to the length of his body. Paulina couldn't help but moan into his hand while pushing her ass into him, throwing any thought out the window. She wanted him. There might have been an answering hardness against her ass, but it was hard to tell, and she couldn't reach to stroke him. She could only keep teasing him at his navel, no longer struggling, but squirming against him for any sort of friction.

Then he adjusted and she was elated to feel he was hard. Paulina could feel it against her thigh. More squirming and she was able to get his erection right between her thighs, wiggling to really move the meat of her thighs against him. The hand around her mouth fell away completely to join the arm around her midsection, holding her in place, but it was much less threatening now. Jason's breathing was really getting ragged.

"Come on big guy." Paulina practically moaned. "You know you want to."

The smallest movement of his hips made her gasp. He was getting it! She wriggled herself in a downward motion so that he nudged her ass. Jason seemed to be catching on, because his arms slackened enough to lower her right against his hips. Her hands tugged at his pants impatiently, wanting him out, then in her. With his arms slackened Paulina was able to get to the button of her jeans, getting them undone and pulling them down just enough.

Paulina felt the smooth, yet firm press of his cock, and she braved a look above her. The mask was pointed down to stare at her, Jason's one good eye wide. While meeting his gaze Paulina bit her lower lip, thrusting her hips back against him, causing his dick to slide against her soaked and slick opening. Jason's body shuddered in response, jerking slightly to seek the sensation again. Paulina let out a low moan. She could feel wetness trickling down her legs. She needed him.

"You can put it in." She said quietly. "If you lay me down it's easier." She rolled her hips as incentive, egging him on, but when the head of his cock grazed her clit she gasped, thighs shaking, and she heard an answering moan behind the hockey mask. Oh fuck for the love of God.

Jason was weighing his options, unwilling to let her escape, but Paulina was too busy trying to get him inside her that escape was pretty far from her mind. So, carefully, with his grip still firm around her midsection, Jason lowered them to the forest floor. Paulina didn't even try to get away from him. In fact as he got on his knees she was pushing back into his lap, and as soon as she had the head of him pressed against her opening she sat fully in his lap, spearing her onto the entire length of his cock.

Jason's entire body shook with the shock of pleasure that shot down his spine. The woman in his grasp let out a cry that shook through his ribcage.

Relief flooded through Paulina so great that she let out a near scream of pleasure. She felt Jason shudder behind her but otherwise he didn't seem to know quite what to do.

"You've killed enough teens fucking." Paulina couldn't help that the growl slipped into her voice. She was on her hands and knees with him on his knees behind her. She could ride him like this, but she wanted to feel his powerful thrusts pounding her into the earth. "You gotta have some idea of what to do."

Her words seemed to spur him on. Jason lurched forward, pulling one arm from around her middle to bury a fist into her hair, shoving her down into the forest floor. Oh fuck yes. He was leaning over her, the top half of her body pressed into the ground while she fought to keep her ass in the air, as close to him as possible.

Jason was trying to gather what few scattered thoughts he could. She was right. He had seen enough teens going at it to know what to do, but the sensation of her slick, pulsing heat surrounding him was making it difficult to even think. But now he had her bent over and all he had to do was start moving.

He was doing it. Holy fuck he was doing it. He pulled out, slowly, almost painfully slow, as far out as he seemed able to stand, then sank right back into her. Paulina tried to stifle the relieved whimper that was bubbling up in the back of her throat, but didn't quite succeed. She could feel every inch of him slide in and out of her.

Jason gave a few experimental pumps, head swimming from the overwhelming stimulation, then pushed against the back of her head, hand a fist in her hair, while the other planted into the earth by her head for leverage. He couldn't go slow anymore. He fucked her with hips that snapped at an almost unnatural pace, the sound of skin slapping skin almost deafening in the quiet dusk around Crystal Lake.

At first Paulina could do nothing but pant and try not to unravel completely immediately. But soon she was practically screaming with each of his inward thrusts. He was so fucking big he didn't even really have to aim. Her cervix was in danger. There were a few thrusts that hit too deep, but Paulina couldn't be bothered. The pain only added to the pleasure at that point. Her fists were pulling up clods of dirt as she looked for something to hold on to. Fuck she was going to cum embarrassingly fast. Deliriously she couldn't help but wonder how he didn't nut immediately, but ultimately decided she didn't care. She wasn't near ready for this to end.

Her hand found the hand he had pushed against the ground and she grabbed onto it for some sort of support. She didn't warn him. She didn't think it would mean anything to him, and she was pretty sure it wouldn't be the only one.

Her orgasm came in waves and she cried out with each one that came crashing over her. Jason's hips stuttered behind her as she clenched and twitched around him. Paulina could feel wetness splatter down her thighs, and the sound of squelching joined the slap of their hips.

Paulina tried to slow her breathing, to quell the pants before they started. She was starting to get dizzy, and she wasn't able to come down from the high of her orgasm. It was like a peak, then she felt the next one already building. Jason pounded down into her ruthlessly and it was a struggle just to keep her hips in the air. Jason groaned low in his throat. It was almost a growl coming through the mask. Paulina answered with a gasp and a whimper as the head of his dick hit her cervix again.

This was almost too much for the huge man. He'd never felt anything like the tight heat low in his gut that drove him to thrust in over and over out of his control. Her slick, burning walls drawing him in deeper. He couldn't get close enough. Jason curled over her, but she was so much smaller than him. What was this? The sight of her hand gripping his in the dirt made the heat shoot up his spine like an electric shock.

The woman was crying out again, near screaming to the rhythm of his thrusts, and that slippery flood flowed over his cock again. The walls around him were spasming, gripping him impossibly tighter as fluids squirted all over his thighs. Below him she was shaking, sucking in the rapidly cooling air. She was letting him do this to her, more than willing and pliant beneath his hand. He released her hair and trailed his touch down her spine. Being gentle was not easy for him, and he knew even now he could easily snap her spine if he wanted.

Paulina's thighs were really straining now. She was going to collapse any moment. The heat from his body as he curled in closer enveloped her. A gasp left her when he released her hair giving her scalp the break she hadn't realized it needed, and his hand traced the curve of her spine. She moaned at the sensation, then let out a very undignified yelp when his arm suddenly wrapped around her and flipped her onto her back.

Jason was only out of her long enough to rip her pants completely off before thrusting back in. The woman gave another gasp, arching her back to be closer to him, and as soon as he picked up his brutal pace again she had her legs wrapped around him. One over his hip, the other behind his thigh. Jason moaned and she returned the sound with one of her own, hands tugging on his jacket to pull him even closer to her.

She buried her face into his neck, gasping against his heated skin, then she was kissing and biting at him, her tongue trailing up the tendon of his neck. A shudder ran down his body. She let out a noise different from the others...a giggle? Jason grunted at her and she did it again with another little laugh. His eyes closed behind the mask, the attention to his neck was making the heat coil tighter and tighter deep in his gut. He was close to something. The giggling stopped, she was moaning louder and louder against him, her hips rotating against the rhythm of his snapping hips. Then her body locked up and she was crying out again, her hands going to his thighs and her fingers digging into the muscles there. Jason groaned again, the walls around his dick were twitching and gripping him again, that fluid making it messy and squirting all over him.

"I don't…know...how much more I can take." Paulina gasped. She wasn't used to this many orgasms in a row. She didn't think she had another one in her.

There was only an answering grunt above her and she buried her nose back into his neck. The smell of sweat mixed with that wet cedarwood smell. Paulina liked it.

The thrusts into her were becoming erratic, losing their rhythm and just pounding into her with a desperation that had deep gasps sounding from behind the hockey mask. Holy shit he was going to cum. Paulina considered trying to convince him to pull out and blow his load all over her. She wanted to see how big it would be, but ultimately decided her breeding kink was going to win out. This huge bastard was going to blow his load as deep into her as he could get.

"Come on." Paulina gasped, starting to roll her hips into him again and leaning into his ear. "Let it go Jason."

At the sound of his name he did. The heat snapped in his gut and there was a hot flood of pleasure shooting up his body. Jason groaned and grunted, trying to keep his hips moving, riding out the tidal waves as his cum spilled into the small woman beneath him. Her thighs were tight around him, encouraging him to settle deep into her and just let it out. Jason's pants joined hers, and pressed the mask against her shoulder, waiting for his body to stop twitching. She lay below him patiently. Her legs relaxed and fell to the ground, her whole body going limp beneath him. She seemed content to stay there.

Slowly the strength returned to his body and Jason lifted himself up onto his knees. He looked down at the woman and tried to decide what to do. She was staring back at him with careful, blue eyes. No begging, not crying, not a hint of fear in that face. She was just waiting to see what he would do.

Kill her, the ever present voice of his mother said in the back of his head. She's just like those counselors. But he had gone along with it, had wanted to. Looking down he saw her hands were still clutching his jacket. Rebellion was beginning to spark in his chest. She hadn't been afraid of him, not even a little. Jason turned to look for her pants and found them amongst the leaves of the forest floor. He pulled out of her, causing another little gasp, and reached to grab them.

She was sitting up when he handed them to her, and she was watching him, taking her pants and slowly standing, brushing leaves off of her skin before stepping into her pants, her eyes never leaving his mask. Jason stood as well, tucking his now soft dick into his own pants and trying to gather his thoughts. But one was at the forefront of his mind.

He didn't want to kill her.

So he knelt before her, wrapped his arms around her, then lifted. She let him, not resisting in the slightest. Just let out a small grunt and wound her arms around his neck for support.

He walked her to the entrance of the camp, the sign overgrown with ivy and barely hanging on. He set her down on the other side of the arch way, then nudged her forward.

The message was clear. Just leave.

Paulina took a step forward. Then turned back to look at Jason. She knew this was the best case scenario. So she nodded at him and was surprised to see him nod right back, then she turned and started down the decrepit road away from Camp Crystal Lake.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - VII

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warning: Mention of domestic violence

Previously on…

“The Court is holding session two weeks from now,” Y/N announced to the group.

“How do we know they’re going through with it after all the recent attention?” Damian challenged.

“They haven’t missed one in over over 20 years.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Dick asked.

Y/N took in a deep breath, “We need a diversion.”

“Diversion?” Jason asked.

She nodded. “The Court has two kinds of protection: the Talons and then the protection they either buy or blackmail. The Talons are at every meeting, making sure nothing goes down and protecting The Court.”

Y/N eyed all of them before continuing – except for Bruce. The two of them hadn’t spoken since their argument, and Y/N hadn’t so much as acknowledged him.

“We need to do something to drag the Talons away from The Court – something big,” Y/N clarified.

“Like what?” Tim asked.

She didn’t say anything. Instead she just awkwardly shifted her weight.

“No,” Dick shut down, being the first to put it together.

“It’s the only way,” she countered.

By now the rest of them had figured out that Y/N wished to put herself in danger once again.

“They almost killed you,” Dick started to get heated.

“Yeah, and they’re even more anxious to kill me after the trouble we caused them. We all know it. The quickest way to get the Talons out of hiding is to dangle me in right front of their faces. Make it so easy that they can’t say no.”

They all went quiet.

“It’s a good idea,” Jason broke the silence.

Jason wasn’t one to beat around the bush. He was brutally honest. Also, he wasn’t scared of a risk. 

Dick glared at him.

But to his surprise, so did Bruce.

“We don’t use our own as bait,” Bruce finally spoke for the first time.

But he wasn’t even looking in Y/N’s vicinity.

That didn’t stop Y/N from rolling her eyes at ‘our own,’ as if she were actually treated the same as everyone in this family.

“Fine,” she snapped. “So what’s your genius plan for getting the Talons away from The Court and where we want them?”

Bruce was quiet, but clearly because he was thinking.

“B, we only have two weeks to get this together,” Dick tried to reason.

Y/N just continued, “While we’re distracting the Talons, the FBI and Gotham PD can raid The Court’s meeting. Security will be at an all-time low and they won’t be able to fight their way out with the distraction of a Talon defense.”

“We can think of another way,” Bruce said. Then he addressed all boys, “We’re heading out for patrol in 15.”

Dick stood up to join them.

To everyone’s shock Y/N and Bruce simultaneously said, “You’re staying here.”

Dick’s brow furrowed. “I’m fine.”

“You’re still injured,” Y/N argued. “You’re stitches aren’t even out yet.”

“You’re staying here with Y/N,” Bruce added on.

Tim, Damian, and Jason all looked at each other in amusement from seeing Bruce and Y/N gain up on Dick.

Bruce muttered out radiuses at the other three boys for patrolling.

“Just to be clear, I’m going back to being a lone wolf when this Court of Owls bullshit is over with,” Jason announced. “But I have to admit, the drama is entertaining.”

“Aww! Come on, J! You know you love the quality family time,” Tim teased.

“I personally can’t wait for him to go away,” Damian mumbled.

“Do you know what a swirly is?” Jason asked the youngest boy.

“No.”

“Do you want to find out?”

Damian looked at Tim for some kind of hint. But Tim just aggressively shook his head in warning.

“Enough,” Bruce warned, but he wasn’t all that annoyed.

When they all left for patrol, Y/N walked to her computers.

“What are you doing?” Dick questioned.

She gave him a look, “Uhhh…doing my job?”

“You did your job,” he countered. “Give yourself a break.”

Y/N knew he was technically right. She already had everything they needed to show the FBI and Gotham PD in order to take down The Court of Owls. Now they just had to wait – even if Bruce wasn’t on board with Y/N’s plan on playing bait.

“Plus,” Dick smirked. “I need someone to entertain me.”

She playfully glared at him. “Oh, I see. So this isn’t about me needing a break. It’s about you needing attention.”

He had no shame. “Maybe.”

Y/N shook her head at his ridiculous, but couldn’t hide her smirk.

“How about I teach you some self defense?” Dick offered.

“Dick! What part of ‘you’re recovering’ is so hard for you to understand?”

He had the audacity to laugh at her reaction. “Fine. Fine. But you should learn a few things at some point.”

Then Dick started walking to the training area, specifically where all the gymnastics equipment was.

Y/N hadn’t seen anyone using it while she was down there, but she assumed it was mostly for Dick.

Without warning, Dick did a press handstand mount on the balance beam, and then he held the handstand.

“Dick! Stop!” Y/N said in a panic.

And she did exactly what he wanted, leaving her computer and walking down to where he was on the balance beam.

“What?” He shrugged as he now stood on the balance beam. “It’s just a handstand. Relax.”

“I swear to god, Dick Grayson, if you do a fucking flip on that thing…”

“You’ll what?” He challenged with a smirk. “Come up here and stop me.”

Y/N crossed her arms and glared at him. “Fine. I will.”

Dick was beaming from his success.

Y/N might not be a gymnast or a vigilante the same way as all of them, but she wasn’t completely hopeless when it came to athletics. She managed to lift herself up enough to sit on the balance beam.

However, standing up was an entirely different thing.

“Fuck,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

“You got it,” Dick encouraged.

But he was still walking across towards her as if the thing was a runway.

“Have these things always been this fucking narrow? I thought it was like width of bleacher seats.”

Dick chuckled as he offered her a hand.

“I got you. Come on,” he urged her softly.

Y/N slowly stood on the balance beam, but gripped Dick’s hands tightly.

“I have some newfound respect,” she laughed lightly as she looked down at their feet.

“Harder than it looks,” Dick agreed.

“Do you think you could’ve gone to the Olympics?” Y/N genuinely asked.

He shrugged, “Who knows. Probably not.”

But Y/N knew he was most likely being modest.  

Then Dick let go of her hands to grip her waist, “Try walking.”

“I feel like we’re in Dirty Dancing. You know, like the scene where they’re working on lifts and walking across the log in the woods.”

He smiled.

Y/N lost her balance a little bit and panicked.

But Dick’s grip on her waist was strong. “You’re OK. I got you.”

It was hard to focus on balancing and walking when his gentle voice said things like that to her, making her stomach drop and her heartbeat quicken.

And it all proved to be too much when Y/N really lost her balance and there was no stopping her from falling. She shoved into Dick too hard, making him lose his grip as well.

But as they fell, Dick quickly maneuvered their bodies so he took the fall and caged her body protectively.

Y/N instantly sat up in hysterics.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Are you OK?” Y/N cried out as her eyes went down to where he still had stitches, half expecting blood to be on his t-shirt from the wound reopening.

But Dick was laughing his ass off.

“It’s not funny!” She slapped his chest.

“I’m not made of glass, Y/N.”

She couldn’t keep her own amusement in check much longer and started laughing along with him.

But then Dick’s phone lit up and vibrated beside them. It must’ve fallen out of his pocket when they fell.

Y/N didn’t mean to look. She really didn’t. But her eyes couldn’t stop from reading the name ‘Barbara Gordon’ on the screen.

Her smile dropped for some reason.

But Dick didn’t see the problem.

He casually reached over and looked at the message.

Y/N moved off of Dick. “Texting your ex?”

Dick narrowed his eyes at the framing of her question. “Do you know every woman I’ve ever dated?”

She smirked at that. “Maybe.”

“Yes, I am. She’s a friend.” He tilted his head. “Don’t you stay in touch with any of your exes?”

Y/N shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t really have any ex-boyfriends. Just…” she hesitated, “people I’ve hooked up with or whatever.”

Dick nodded slowly.

“Why hasn’t she been around?” Y/N changed the subject quickly.

“She’s been working her own case – had to go undercover for awhile.”

She nodded. But wasn’t looking at him as they talked now.

“You know…just because that’s what’s happened in the past doesn’t mean that it always has to be that way,” he told her quietly.

“Easy for you to say.”

Dick winced a bit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her gaze finally moved up from the floor to his. “You’re a serial monogamist. Being in relationships is easy for you.”

“That’s what you think of me?” Dick couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice. “You think I don’t know how to be alone?”

“I didn’t say that,” she quickly defended.

“But that’s what you were implying.”

Y/N got up from the mats and started to leave.

“No. Don’t do that,” Dick caught her arm.

“Do what?” She challenged as she pulled her arm away from him.

“Don’t make up problems that don’t exist, Y/N.”

She huffed at that.

“Yeah, I’ve been in serious relationships for most of my life. Not because I didn’t know how to be alone, but because I loved them.” He shook his head. “I know men have treated you like shit, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same.”

“What are we even talking about, Dick?” She shot back.

How did they get from messing around on a balance beam to discussing their non-existent relationship?

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You’re one of the smartest people I know. Act like it.”

It wasn’t until now that Dick saw how Bruce and Y/N were similar. He’d never met anyone else that could push people away like they did. But it was clear they both thought it was easier and less complicated to isolate themselves. 

Maybe that’s why they gravitated toward each other. Like if the faced it together than they were cheating their way out of their own rules.

Except Dick couldn’t help but wonder what Y/N’s life could look like with someone who really loved her, who showed her that she didn’t have to face the world alone. Obviously he wanted to be that person for her. But his ego wasn’t too proud to allow someone else to do that for her. Even if it hurt like hell.

“Dick, I can’t–”

But he didn’t let her say another word, and his lips crashed against hers.

She tried to be stubborn and pull away, but he wasn’t letting her get away.

Dick deepened the kiss. This wasn’t like the night of the gala. It wasn’t innocent and soft. No, this was filled with fire and infatuation.

Dick wasn’t being polite anymore. His hands slipped under her t-shirt to grasp her waist, needing to feel her and refusing to allow fabric between his touch and her skin.

Maybe he was trying to prove something to Y/N now.

But just when Y/N was about to push it further, Dick pulled away.

Their lips were both swollen.

And he kept close to her, tempting her with another kiss – but not giving in.

“You don’t want to talk about it? Fine.” His voice was raspy.

Eventually he’d push her to talk about them. For now, he’d let her figure things out.

“But don’t convince yourself that I’m no one to you.”

———————

Y/N couldn’t sleep.

Her mind was restless.

She knew Dick had been right: she was trying to point out issues that didn’t exist, picking unnecessary fights.

Getting Dick frustrated was a great way to stop herself from actually reflecting on how she was starting to feel about him.

Instead of tossing and turning in bed, Y/N decided to go to the library. She hadn’t spent much time there – too busy practically living in cave. But it had intrigued her since she arrived. It was so beautiful, and even large enough to hide in.

She was a hour or so into a book she grabbed from the shelves when someone cleared their throat.

Y/N jumped in fright and looked up to see Bruce leaning against one of the book shelves.

His hair was wet and he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Clearly he’d just taken a shower.

“You’re back early,” she noted.

It wasn’t even 4AM yet.

“Quiet night. The boys had patrolling handled.”

She just nodded and went back to her book.

But Bruce’s presence made it impossible for her to even focus enough on the words to keep reading. So, she faked it.

“I owe you an apology.”

Her stare snapped up.

“I should not have spoken to you the way I did.”

Y/N was silent.

“It was unfair, and I was mistaken. I apologize.”

Y/N watched him for a moment before saying, “Apology accepted.”

She expected him to leave after that. He’d checked his little box. Now they could both move on.

“I was scared,” Bruce confessed. “That I was going to find you dead. And then I was scared Dick would lose it and…” His words died out.

“Well… you hid that very easily.”

“I have to.”

“I know. But you don’t realize how frustrating that can be for other people.”

Bruce sighed and frowned. “I understand.”

Y/N finally put her book down and got up from the love seat to slowly walk to where Bruce was standing.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she apologized softly. “And I’m sorry for scaring you. I was only doing what I thought was right.”

Bruce didn’t even realize what he doing until he pulled Y/N into his arms and felt her bury her face into his chest and hug him back. He tightened his hold around her, breathing in her hair.

Y/N was surprised by his hug, but she was grateful for it.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. It was either his body wash or his cologne, but Bruce always smelled like musk and wood. Y/N was rarely close enough to smell it this well. But when she did, it instantly soothed her.

“Why are you up so late?” Bruce asked when they finally pulled away.

Y/N let out a long sigh, “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Come on. I’ll make you some tea.”

“You do not know how to make tea,” she answered while trying not to laugh.

“I am not as hopeless in the kitchen as you’d imagine,” he told her with a smirk.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she replied, as she followed him downstairs.

True to his word, Bruce made Y/N lavender tea, making it just as Alfred had taught him as a child.

He gave her a smug smirk when he handed her one of the mugs and saw how surprised she was by him.

Y/N never expected he would linger. 

But an hour later, they were still sitting on the barstools at the island.

The conversation was slow, but light.

Now that Y/N had spent so much time with the family, she mostly talked about the boys with Bruce, asked him questions about each of them.

It was easier for him to talk about them than himself – or them. 

Little did Bruce know, Y/N was learning so much more about him from the way he talked about all of them.  

Bruce was subtle, but Y/N could tell how proud he was of all of them – even Jason, who he had a tumultuous relationship with. He loved them with all his heart, even though he was terrible at showing it.

“Damian’s the only one who still lives here. Tim has a penthouse in the city. And Dick is constantly jumping around place to place. But it’s been...nice having them around so much recently,” Bruce admitted with hesitation.

“And what about Jason?” She asked. “He never seems to stay here.”

Bruce hid his sadness and disappointment well, but Y/N could still see it.

“I’m lucky Jason even speaks to me,” he answered darkly. “He tends to like his space and prefers to…keep to himself.”

She nodded, not forcing the subject more.

But then her eyes got a glimpse of the clock. And she looked inside her now empty mug. How long ago did she finish it?

“I should probably attempt to get at least a couple hours of sleep,” she murmured as she got up from the stool. 

Bruce nodded, and did that thing where men stand up as soon as a woman does.

No matter how many times he did it, Y/N was always caught off guard by it.

“Thank you for the tea,” her voice was so quiet, but sincere. She smiled, “I’m sorry for ever doubting your skills.”

He grinned and watched her leave.

But when Y/N reached the edge of the kitchen she turned around. “If I asked you a question, would you answer truthfully? And I mean really answer.”

Bruce observed her for a few seconds. 

He knew she deserved his honesty.

They constantly answered each other’s questions with questions. It was like a dance – or a fight – which one probably just depended on the day.

He nodded.

“It’s okay if I am. Really, it is.” She took a short inhale. “But was I just another one of Bruce Wayne’s conquests?”

The desperation for honesty was so clear in her face and voice. If he said ‘yes,’ it would hurt her, but she would get over it. After all, that’s what she’d been assuming all this time.

Bruce did not have the words. Furthermore, he saw this for what it was: the two of them approaching dangerous territory.

But he owed her this.

Bruce didn’t break her stare as he carefully shook his head.

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

——————

LATER THAT NIGHT/EARLY MORNING…

Bruce knew Dick would be in the gym in the manor.

Everyone trained in the cave, so Dick knew no one would find him there. And he could workout in peace without being reprimanded about resting and being cautious about his injuries.

Dick had been sprinting on the treadmill when Bruce walked in.

When he spotted his entrance in the mirror, Dick stopped the machine.

He was dripping in sweat, proving that he’d been training hard – too hard for his condition.

Wonder where he learned that from…

“What’s up?” Dick asked as he wiped his face with a towel.  

“I had a feeling you weren’t resting,” Bruce said as he crossed his arms.

“I’m fine,” Dick shot back.

But he did a double take when he realized how deep in thought Bruce seemed to me. He was staring off, an extremely unusual thing for him. 

“Bruce?” Dick asked with concern. 

“Y/N’s parents abused her,” Bruce told him firmly all of the sudden. “Her father was an alcoholic – beat her and his wife. Her mother emotionally and mentally terrorized her. After running away countless times, Y/N was finally able to emancipate herself at 16.”

Dick’s entire body froze. “How do you know that?”

“She told me.” 

Bruce didn’t mean to sound smug. 

But Dick still took it that way. 

“For obvious reasons, she didn’t go into great detail. But I filled in the blanks with research – though she’s hid her past well, as you can imagine. She was homeless after that. Broke in where she could. Tried to stay off the streets. Even dressed like a boy for safety.”

Dick felt sick as he listened. Stories like this were all too familiar to their family. 

“One day, she saw someone coding on their computer at a coffee shop. She had always overachieved at computer science in school, and it intrigued her. As you and I both know, she caught on rather quickly.”  

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because she’s not going to,” Bruce replied as if it’s obvious.

Dick scowled, still not putting together the deeper meaning. They had never shared a conversation like this before. And it was confusing him.

Was Bruce trying to shove his past with Y/N in Dick’s face?

“I was the first person she ever shared her past with,” Bruce said slowly. “And it took me far too long to realize that I mishandled her trust. I did not deserve it.”

Dick could see the regret on Bruce’s face as he spoke.

But Dick finally understood what Bruce was actually trying to tell him: ‘If she does you the same honor, don’t you dare make the same mistake I did.’

“I understand,” was all Dick responded with.

Bruce gave a curt nod.

“Need I remind you that the cave has cameras?”

Bruce saw them kiss. But little did he know, it wasn’t their first.

Dick only quirked an eyebrow as if it say, ‘So? What of it?’

-----------

Part 8

Guys, I was 30 minutes early. You’re welcome. 

I want to point out that Y/N’s dark past was always part of the story. But I avoided actually including it because I am not a fan of fanfic writers often romanticizing abuse or mental health issues or other serious matters. I just want everyone to know that I take things like this seriously and I’m not just using them as a plot point. 

So here is a resource if you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence. 

[mochegato]

Everything the Light Touches

“So, as you can see, it is actually a decent adaptation of the classic.  Admittedly, they lost a lot of the original gravitas of the story by allowing Nala to live instead of committing suicide like Ophelia did, but I suppose it makes the story more fun without the massive amounts of death and depression and insanity.” Jason rocked the baby in his arms for a bit, seeing if he’d finally, finally fallen asleep.  After a few moments of quiet, the baby scrunched his face in discomfort and started whining at the loss of the soothing sound of Jason’s voice and the resulting vibrations resonating throughout the chest he was cuddled against.

Jason smiled softly and bounced him gently as he continued pacing around the nursery.  “Uh huh, uh huh.  I can see your point there.  But, that was one of the lessons we learned from ‘I Just Can't Wait to be King’.  It's not only a fucking… er, um, freak… no… bloody?” he stuttered and sighed deeply, “no, Mommy probably won’t like that one either…”  He wrinkled his nose as he searched for an acceptable alternative word.  “A really annoying song that your sister insists on screaming at the top of her lungs for hours at a time,” he offered instead.

“It shows us first that Simba wants to be king.  He wants to rule.  But, in the same stroke, it also shows us he doesn't understand what that means.  What he's asking for is control, a tyranny, which is what he thinks becoming king means.  It's all about him.  A lot like the rogues Daddy and your uncles and aunts fight.  Simba doesn't realize the responsibilities of a good ruler.  It shows us, that if things had continued the way they were, he may well have become Scar on his own.”

The baby gurgled again, nestling deeper into Jason’s arms.  “Ooh, very good point.  You’re so smart, just like Mommy.  Yes, he had his father there to guide him.  We saw and heard his father truly understood what it meant to be a king and was slowly trying to teach him that.  So maybe he wouldn't have become Scar.  We'll never know.  Him deciding to let Scar live at the end shows he chose Mufasa’s view of ruling.  He finally understood the lesson.  He won't become Scar.  He will become like his father.”

He paused for a moment and gently stroked his son’s head with his nose.  His voice got impossibly softer.  “So maybe it wasn’t necessarily about the lessons he taught intentionally.  Maybe it was the love he showed his son.  He showed him so much love, that even years later, Simba wanted to emulate him.”  He kissed his son’s head.  “God, I hope I can be that for you, Hugo.  I’d give you the world if you wanted, if I could.  Everything the light touches.  Not that I expect you to take over anything from me, and definitely not my old crime empire.”  He cringed slightly.  “Mommy would murder me and not even wait to do it in my sleep.  But I hope I can show you that level of love.”

Hugo responded with relaxed, even breaths. Jason smiled at him again before furrowing his brow in mock seriousness and bringing him closer to his face.  “But, if you want to throw an uncle off a cliff, especially Damian or Adrien or Roy, I’ll cover for you.”

He placed a soft kiss on Hugo’s head.  “Next time, we’ll analyze the success of the Oliver & Company adaptation,” he whispered barely loud enough to be heard. Jason gently laid Hugo back down in his crib, moving carefully so he didn’t jostle him too much and wake him up for the fourth time that night already.  He stroked his stomach lightly a few times until he was sure Hugo was asleep enough that movement wouldn’t wake him.

He quietly closed the door behind himself and let out a relieved sigh as soon as he released the handle.  He rubbed his face wearily.  This growth spurt was killing them.  They hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time for a week now. His eyes caught on his daughter’s door, which was just slightly ajar, and let out another deep, resigned sigh. That was not the way they’d left it when they put her to bed earlier.  He pushed the door open slowly and leaned against the doorway.  His face split into an adoring smile.  Marinette was laying on top of the covers, her arm slung over Catherine who was curled into her.  

If you asked her, Catherine would tell you she was extremely excited for Preschool to start in a few weeks and not at all scared. However, she’d been waking up at least once every night for the last month and asking for Mommy Cuddles to make her room less scary, which Jason completely understood.  Marinette’s cuddles were amazing.  But it meant that at least Marinette was getting woken up to comfort Catherine at least once a night and at least twice to nurse Hugo.  

Jason gently picked Marinette up, being careful not to disturb Catherine and restart the soothing process all again.  His heart warmed when she instantly snuggled closer into his arms as he walked.  Even after their years together, the way she instantly reacted to his touch, even unconsciously, blew him away.  He laid her in their bed with a lingering kiss to the temple.  She opened her eyes groggily, a sleepy smile on her face.  “Hey, sexy.  You know, most parents sing lullabies or tell fairytales to their kids,” she teased.

“Most parents aren’t awesome,” he answered as if it were obvious.  Marinette hummed in agreement and moved to make room for him.  “You heard,” he chuckled as he crawled into bed after her.

“I caught the beginning before Catherine woke up.”  She yawned as she answered.  Jason curled around Marinette, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his chest.  She snuggled into his warm embrace and hugged her arms over his.  She was quiet for a while, savoring the embrace, until Jason thought she’d fallen back asleep.  “So, Lion King, huh?”

He smirked and nodded into her hair.  “It’s a classic.”

After a moment she turned back to eye him knowingly.  “Which uncle did you tell him it was okay to kill?”

He blinked a few times.  She couldn’t have heard him so that meant she just knew him that well.  He grinned at the thought.  “...a few.”

Marinette sighed and cuddled back into him again.  “You need to stop doing that. He's going to start talking you seriously.  And we do not need a baby Damian.”

Jason puckered his lips at that horrifying thought. That was terrible enough to go through once.  But Damian never tried to hurt his father and this time Jason would be the father so...  “It'll be fine,” he assured her.

“Catherine was glaring at Wally so hard earlier today he ran away before Adrien even had the chance to ask him on a date.  And Adrien put so much effort into setting it up too,” Marinette warned him, not at all entertained.  She was the one that had to apologize to Adrien after and listen to the awkward call between them so Adrien could try to set up another chance and talk to Catherine about not killing off Uncle Adrien’s love life.  He didn’t need the help.

Jason snorted.  “Seriously?”

Marinette elbowed him at his amused tone.  “Yes.”

Jason grinned and buried his face in Marinette's hair.  “That's my girl.”

@jasonette-july-event

[writing-on-standby]

time of dreaming (part three)

Summary: Soulmates meet in their dreams from the age of 16 until they meet for the first time. Once they meet, they share their physical and emotional feelings with one another until they die. Tom Holland was just starting to learn how to take over the family business and ignore the urge to find his soulmate when everything changes and he’s found face to face with you. You’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate and spend the rest of your life with them until you actually meet yours and life changes forever.

Warnings: Drug use, swearing, alcohol, angst, mentions of scars/injury (not self harm) 

                                 part three: coping mechanisms

A few days after your last interaction with Tom and Harrison, you were discharged from the hospital. Jazmin had taken you home and spent the week after at your house, helping you. She didn’t ask for details about what happened, but word was quickly spreading that you were assaulted in a drug deal gone wrong. Wrong place, wrong time. And you didn’t have the heart to say otherwise.

After a week of time off, however, Jazmin had to go back to work, leaving you alone to take care of the hundreds of stitches you had that kept your chest closed. Your arm was still in a sling and wandering around the house was difficult. There was a constant dull ache in your stomach where Luke O’Malley had stabbed you. You didn’t know what happened to him and you had no idea what happened to Tom and Harrison, but you didn’t care. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Nothing was more heartbreaking, however, than to feel the hands of another woman on Tom, exploring his body and getting to know him. You’d wake up in the middle of the night, tasting cigarettes and whiskey while feeling the lips of someone on your skin. You’d try to block out the sensation of Tom sleeping with another girl, but nothing worked, not even you drinking.

Eventually, one night that Tom was getting frisky with another woman, you looked at the medication you were given to help ease the pain you were in. You took a deep, calming breath, determined to get this feeling out of your head. Without another thought, you popped two painkillers and laid down on your bed. A small smile lifted your cheeks as you could only focus on the comfort of the bed.

Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but in that moment, you were desperate to feel anything other than Tom fucking another woman. You nestled deeper into your bed while your body felt light and airy. You slowly closed your eyes and smiled. This was working. For once, you had a way to numb Tom’s feelings and the sensations he felt and for the next six hours, you’d finally pretend he wasn’t your soulmate.

*

Two weeks and some bad decisions later, you were out of pain killers and your body was screaming in pain. You groaned and crawled out of bed. The stitches  had come out of your chest, but the mark was still there; angry and harsh against your soft skin. You had been kicked out of the internship program due to your incident and while the director denied it was because if that, you couldn’t hide the nagging reminder of the scar that somehow showed through any article of clothing you tried.

Tom’s feelings and sensations weren’t making things any better, either. If he wasn’t hooking up with random women, he was drinking whiskey at the worst time of day and smoking cigarettes like he would die without them. On days you tried to be productive, Tom would get into fights. His knuckles constantly ached as did his throat. Having him as your soulmate was insufferable and when you got a particularly bad cramp during your period, you couldn’t help the petty joy you felt, knowing he was also suffering.

You dragged yourself out of the house. The shirt you wore showed off the jagged edge of of the scar you had. The worst part of having the injuries you had wasn’t the pain, but the combination of a massive scar on your chest and the need to wear specific shirts to accommodate to the sling you had to wear. You sighed, trying to ignore the sense of dread seeing the injuries filled you with, but nothing worked.

You walked out of your dingy apartment and onto the streets of London. You were trying to find a way to get more pain killers, but the doctors had already refused your request. As much as you hated yourself for even entertaining the idea of illegally obtaining drugs, you couldn’t go another day with the feelings you had. Luckily for you, you lived in a sketchy part of town and happened to know where the drug deals went down.

Not even caring that your soulmate was a glorified drug dealer or that what you were about to do was definitely illegal, you approached the dealer who stood in the alley by your flat.

“Hey pretty thing,” the dealer spoke, gruffly. His face was ragged and covered with stubble. His blue eyes weren’t menacing like you always pictured a drug dealer to be. “Need something to help with that?” The dealer gestured to your injuries with a cigarette dancing between his finger tips. “Since you’re so pretty, I’ll give you a discount.”

How kind of him, you thought to yourself, sarcastically. You sighed and nodded, slowly. You ignored the spade shaped pin on his chest even though you knew it indicated who he belonged to - the Hollands. “How much?”

The dealer chuckled and told you his price. It wasn’t bad and you handed him the cash. With a sickeningly sweet smile, he handed you a bottle full of painkillers. “Don’t take them all at once, sweetheart.”

You ignored the smirk on his face as you turned and started walking away. Your heart was racing and your body was warm. You ignored every part of your instincts telling you to drop the painkillers and run, but you needed it. You tried to slow your breathing, knowing that Tom would be able to sense your anxiety. What did you care, though? He didn’t give two shits about you. He had made that perfectly clear.

*

Tom stood in his office talking with Harrison. It was the end of the day and they were waiting for the report on the sales his drug dealers had. It was a typical routine that happened almost every day. Tom filled two glasses with whiskey and grinned as he handed it to his best friend. Things were starting to look up.

Over the last three weeks since he had met his soulmate, he’d only felt the soreness in your shoulder along with a dull ache in his stomach. He shrugged off the pain, easily having worse injuries in his life. However, when your period came around, Tom struggled. While your cramps weren’t awful, Tom never had to get used to dealing with them and he simply found it way too uncomfortable.

As the days went on, Tom noticed you feeling more lightheaded and less pain came from your shoulder and stomach. Tom ignored it, assuming that you had finally healed up the wounds. He had tried to ignore any thoughts or emotions about you. It was too hard to think about the look on your face when he last saw you. Your eyes were wide with pain and a frown sat firmly on your lips. It was hard to process the fact that his soul was forever connected to another person and now he had a face to match with the sensation.

A swift knock sounded on Tom’s office door. Tom called for the person to enter and turned to see who it was. Jason, the drug dealer who was in charge of the southern part of the city, walked in. His blue eyes beamed and the stubble on his face added an extra disheveled look to the man. Tom greeted him and he nodded.

“How was the day? Did you make any sales?” Harrison asked, arms crossed. Harrison kept track of the finances in the mob. He knew that Tom was shit with numbers.

Jason chuckled and leaned back. “There was this one bird who came today. Poor thing,” he muttered with his thick cockney accent. He shook his head and lit up a cigarette. “Had her arm in a sling and a nasty scar.”

Harrison and Tom looked at each other. Without saying a word, they both were on the same page. “What arm was in a sling?”

“Where was the scar?” Harrison added, looking at Jason, intently.

Jason looked at the two of them for a brief second. Tom knew this sounded insane, but he didn’t care. Why would you be buying drugs? Jason took a deep drag off his cigarette and sighed, letting all the smoke blow out of him. “Her right arm was in the sling and the scar was right on her sternum. Looked like it went further, but the shirt covered it. What’s the big deal with her?”

Tom shook his head. “Jesus fuck,” he groaned. “Jason, if that woman buys from you ever again, call me as soon as she leaves. Got it?”

Jason furrowed his brows. “Can I ask why?”

Tom chuckled, but there was no humor in his laugh. He shook his head and threw his empty whiskey glass at the wall. It shattered right behind Jason, causing the drug dealer to jump to his feet. Most people had grown to fear Tom and despite his distaste for that power, he used it to his advantage more often than not. “No you fucking can’t,” Tom shouted. “Get the fuck out of my office.”

Jason walked out of the office without another word, leaving Tom and Harrison alone. Harrison looked at Tom in disbelief. Despite the two of them being best friends, Tom had grown distant from Harrison. “Tom,” he whispered. “What’s going on in your head?”

Tom shook his head, trying to ignore the massive amounts of guilt he was feeling. Most nights, before he went to sleep, he’d feel fear and anxiety build up in your bones. He felt you shake awake from nightmares in a cold terror. Tom could feel the ache still present in your body and worst of all, he could feel every time you took drugs. It just took you buying them illegally from one of his drug dealers to finally face the truth. Tom knew that this was a new behavior. In fact, he felt your anxiety earlier today, but assumed it was something normal, not a drug deal. The guilt was crawling into Tom’s lungs and nestling itself firmly on his chest. It was his fault that you were now breaking the law and abusing drugs. “It’s my fault,” he sighed.

“No, it’s not, Tom,” Harrison spoke, confidently. He took a step closer to Tom, but Tom shook his head.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Harrison.” Tom looked at the open office doors and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and tried to think of his father. In moments like this, Tom could always count on his father to help him get his thoughts in order.

*

“I know you’re excited that you met your soulmate, Tom, but you cannot meet her. You know that you can’t, right?”

Tom took a bite of his cereal and nodded. Tom was getting better at focusing on the future of his mob rather than the vague-faced woman he saw in his dreams. “I know, dad.”

“Good,” he sighed. Tom’s father was always loving and encouraging to the boys, but when it came to soulmates, he wouldn’t budge. Tom knew that the distaste for soulmates was because of what happened with his mother, but Tom never dared to mention such a thing to his dad.

“Dad, what if I accidentally meet her?”

Tom avoided his dad’s cold stare from the other side of the table. It was a genuine question, on Tom’s part. He knew that meeting his soulmate wasn’t allowed, but what if she happened to be in the same store one day? Or what if she was a cop that he ran into one day? Tom’s dad finally sighed and shook his head. “Tom, you won’t meet her. And if you do, then you’ll start feeling her every thought, feeling, and emotion. That makes you weak, Tom. You can’t let yourself be weak. Not when you belong to this family and you have this job.”

Tom nodded at the bowl of cereal in front of him. His dad had been preparing him for the lifestyle that he was expected to continue, but Tom was still not ready to shut out normal emotions in the way that his father expected him to. Tom tried to ignore the nagging feeling he had in the back of his throat that meeting you in your dreams as frequently as he did was worse than actually meeting you. Tom had already grown attached to the way you laughed at his serious tone or the way you’d be able to tell when he didn’t want to talk about meaningless things. He was attached to the way you were so easily there for him, even when he was being a relentless asshole. Tom couldn’t help but feel like he was already breaking your heart despite only knowing each other for a few weeks. And even then, you didn’t even know what the other one looked like. Tom looked up at his dad who raised his eyebrows. Tom knew that his dad was expecting him to agree and to show submission to his father’s request. Tom sighed, ignoring the soul crushing guilt he felt when he slowly nodded at his father. “Okay, dad.”

*

You walked back to your flat and shut the door with a sigh. Your hands were shaking as you popped open the pill vile and took two pills. At this point, your body was so used to taking the pills that two weren’t enough for you, but you weren’t sure if there was a difference in illegal pain killers and legal pain killers. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of guilt that you could feel coming from Tom. Your first instinct was to find him, hold him, and comfort him. After a few seconds you shook your head in disgust. If Tom gave a single shit about you, he’d come over every time you woke up with tears streaming down your face because of nightmares. If Tom cared about you, he would check up on you every time he felt you get high. If Tom cared, he wouldn’t sleep with random women nearly every day. If Tom didn’t care, why did you?

You ignored the ache in your heart that was now because of your own thoughts. Instead, you focused on the way your body felt lighter with each step you took. You focused on the soft fabric of your shirt and the way the rug under your feet felt. You sighed, drowsily, as the pain killers slowly took effect on your body. You flopped onto the couch and felt your body sink into the plush cushions. You turned on the TV, planning to watch some trashy reality while you enjoyed your high, but your phone ringing caught you off guard. The phone number wasn’t recognized, but you didn’t care enough to worry if it was something serious. You silenced the call without another thought.

The phone started ringing, again, however. You groaned and silenced it again, not wanting to talk to anyone. If it was that important, they could leave a message, you reasoned with yourself. The phone rang for a third time, and you felt anger prick at your cheeks and burn into your chest. You suddenly put the sensation with the incessant calling and realized that it was Tom calling you. Tom was calling you and you ignoring him was pissing him off. You smirked at this realization and chuckled. Before you could think of any reason why Tom would be calling you, you shut your phone off and turned the volume of the TV louder. You popped open the pill container you were given and took a third. With the smile still lazily spreading across your cheeks, you walked over to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of wine. Without thinking, you guzzled the whole glass and poured another. “Fuck you, Tom Holland,” you muttered to yourself, as if toasting to this statement. You raised the glass to your lips and took another drink, already feeling sick.

Your stomach was flipping and lurching, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the fact that you were feeling a cigarette burning your throat and the warmth of Tom’s anger. You were pleased with yourself for dragging these feelings out of Tom. It was high fucking time that he was suffering because of you just as much as you were because of him. You finished the second glass, forcing the alcohol to burn every inch of your throat and stomach. You knew you were going to be sick, but the thought of making Tom feel your suffering and pain was too glorifying for you. You filled a third glass and took a drink as you stumbled into the living room with drunken giggles. Maybe you didn’t care so much about the scar you now held forever, or the fact that your future was put on hold because of Tom. Maybe you could pretend for a small minute that everything was okay.

You flopped on the couch, spilling the wine on your shirt, but all you could do was giggle. You were growing more tired and sick, but you couldn’t let yourself be bothered. All you could do was chuckle, lazily. You forced your eyes to stay as open as they could, but the alcohol mixing with the pain killers was making you so incredibly drowsy. It didn’t matter, though. You could never sleep, lately.

The last few weeks, you would wake up in a cold sweat, thinking of the man who held you against him and slashed your chest open. You hadn’t slept a full night since the assault, but the drugs were helping. You smiled at the thought of being able to sleep for a few hours without seeing or hearing that man. Maybe one day, you’d sleep through the night without the help of drugs, but for now, you were medicating yourself. What else was there to do?

Before you could stand up to fill a fourth glass of wine, your apartment door busted open. Your reflexes were slowed and your logic was out the window. You stood up and wobbled back and forth, trying to balance yourself. Ignoring the smallest rational voice in the back of your brain telling you that it was Tom, you still walked towards the door. You stumbled and peered your head around the corner to see Tom and Harrison both standing there. Anger filled your bones as you looked at their dumb faces. You could see Tom wobbling slightly, but he wasn’t nearly as affected by you. You stumbled into their view and threw the wine glass at Tom as best as you could. It missed his head, narrowly, and shattered at his feet.

Tom whipped his head to glare at you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You chuckled. “Fuck you, Tom Holland,” you slurred. A laugh erupted out of your diaphragm, even though you knew this situation was far from funny, but this was all you could bring yourself to do in this moment. You shrugged at the boy. His brown eyes were concerned and his eyebrows were knitted, but the drugs in your system blocked his feelings from you. Tom took a step closer to you and you flinched backwards, causing you to trip over the rug behind you. Your ass hit the ground with a pathetic thud and Tom walked over to you. He knelt beside you and helped you up. “Get the fuck off me,” you whimpered as tears slipped out of your eyes. An uncontrollable sadness was washing through your veins and you knew it was yours. It was the sadness over your lost career, your lost soulmate, and the weight of the trauma that you’d experienced in your life.

Tom helped you sit on the couch as he pursed his lips. You could see the fear and the guilt dancing along his eyebrows. He shook his head as he wiped a tear from your cheek. He pushed the hair off of your face and slowly rubbed your back. The last thing you wanted right now was to be comforted by Tom, but you couldn’t ignore the ache in your soul to just be with Tom. “Why are you doing this?”

You sniffled as the world kept shifting around you. The alcohol was fully hitting you and all you could do was accept it. “I can’t sleep; I can’t eat. I have nothing. All I can think of is…is…him,” you sputtered. “All I can think of is the fear and the smell of him. I can’t sleep without seeing him and I can’t eat without feeling the knife against my chest. I can’t function with you sleeping around with other women. I can’t escape this-this anger and sadness.” You wiped your eyes, roughly and shook your head. “You’re not here because you care. You’re here to make sure I don’t fuck with your mob or the cops.” Your lips curled in a sneer as you spit on the ground. The more you talked, the more saliva filled your mouth. Or maybe it was the tears that were now uncontrollably falling from your eyes that were filling your mouth. It didn’t matter to you, not right now. “I won’t fuck with anything. I’m just trying to keep my head above water.”

Tom’s heart was breaking at the sight of you. The scar was clearly visible and tears were freely falling down your cheeks, but you were still speaking your mind. He knew that the universe made you his soulmate because you weren’t afraid to speak your mind to him. “Love, let’s get you into some pj’s and get some rest, okay?”

“What’s the point,” you spat. “I don’t sleep anyway.”

“C’mon,” he ushered, softly. He helped you stand and walked you towards the bedroom. You didn’t fight him as he wrapped his arms around you waist and you certainly didn’t fight him when he held you close to his side. He helped you with every stumble and wobble, but his grip never wavered.

Once in your bedroom, Tom held you up as you grabbed some sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He covered his eyes as you changed, but his hand was still softly at your side. Maybe it was the drugs or the alcohol that was lowering your ability to think clearly. Two hours ago, you would’ve punched Tom so hard in his face, but in this moment, as he took care of you, you couldn’t feel the anger anymore. You could feel his guilt and his sadness, but you didn’t feel angry anymore. His brown eyes were so concerned as he helped you lay on your bed. Without asking, he took off his heavy knit sweater and climbed into bed, next to you.

“I’m so mad at you,” you whimpered as tears fell out of your eyes. “I can’t fucking stand you.”

Tom could hear the weakness in your tone and knew that you were trying so hard to come off menacing. He couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle as he heard Harrison sweep up the broken glass and tidy up the flat. “I know, princess,” he whispered. “Let me try to help you sleep, okay? You need to sleep, love.” Your eyelids slipped shut as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right here. I promise.”

You couldn’t fight it anymore. You let the wave of sleep wash over your exhausted body. Tom’s arms were tightly wrapped around you, filling you with a sense of security. You listened to his steady heartbeat and felt your soul rest, finally.

And for the first time in weeks, you finally slept through the night without any nightmares.

                                                  part four

[peculiarpatches]

𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆 - 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

Hello!!

 I’ve had this idea for awhile and decided ‘fuck it’ let’s write it. This is the prologue, so, there’s not much other than the main source and description of what the story is going to be about.  I would post the full story here, however, I just want to make sure people actually like it before I put it out there, haha. Either way - I do hope you like it! If you do, please like, comment and HELL - give me a few suggestions for other stories or what you’d like to see if you find yourself, enjoying this story. Thank you very much for reading :) It means the world to me. Much love, always. - cierra. x 

SIDENOTE: This story will contain both angst and smut. it’ll also feature triggering topics (abuse, both emotional and physical) so please be cautious when reading! also, female reader and features she/her pronouns. 

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                                                PROLOGUE. 

~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Billy Hargrove. Bringing his name up in a conversation always brought one of two different reactions.  For the girls, it'd cause their cheeks to bleed red and they'd chew on their bottom lip and twirl their stray pieces of hair in between their fingers, murmuring how attractive he was and what they'd do if he were to ask them out. (What they'd do if they were alone with him in the back of his car, too. (Y/N) heard plenty of that scenario. Way too many details, if you were to ask her.  She still cringes when she thinks about Margaret Adams going into full story mode of what she'd do to Billy and what she'd like for Billy to do to her. Margaret was the definition of innocent. Went to church every Sunday, prayed without being told to, always carried a bible with her, would blush when a boy - male teachers, included - glanced in her direction. She was one of those girls. So, when she told (Y/N) what she'd love to do to Billy and vice versa, it was shocking, to say the very least. Of course, the moment the sentence (well.... several sentences) leaves her mouth, Margaret turned her head to the side averting  her gaze, but the sudden rosiness of her cheeks gave her away. (Y/N) could tell her  blush was burning  through her cheeks and her face  was feeling like a hot oven. 

She probably felt like a  sinner, saying all those foul words and using such dirty language like that...  

Oh, how she curses herself for not being able to stop herself from the sinful thoughts that corrupted her mind. 

(Y/N) practically felt the embarrassment clouding over from Margaret and hovering above her  as she attempted to hide her rosy cheeks behind her skinny fingers. (Y/N) had to fight back a laugh, even though it wasn't so funny to poor Margaret who was still blushing a beet-red and trying to pull her long, wavy brown hair to hide her burning cheeks. 

(It didn't work out and eventually, with a huff, Margaret gave up and dropped her hands at her sides.) "It's fine," (Y/N) reassured with a gentle smile. "I was just curious as to what people really thought about him. I'm new here too, you know?" She said with a shrug. "And although I may not be as pretty as Hargrove, I do wish I was given some attention he receives." She laughs, thankful Margaret found it funny as well as she had started to giggle.  

"I just wanted to know why people are so star struck over him, that's all." She explained. Margaret, this time, shrugged in reply.  "Not sure myself." She admitted, the red to her cheeks only growing deeper as she admits this statement. "He's something else, though, right?" Margaret continued.  "Sure." (Y/N) grinned, though it was far from a real, genuine smile. "Anyways, I've got to get to class but thank you." As she gets up to leave, Margaret is quick with an, "Oh! Hey... don't tell Pastor  Jason about what I said, okay?" "I promise. Your secret is safe with me.") When his name would be brought up with the same sex as he, there was mixed signals.  "I don't see the big deal of Hargrove." one spat.  "He's a cool dude, I guess." another spoke. "If he comes anywhere near Sabrina, I'm going to fight him, no matter where I am or how much trouble I'll get into, that's my girl and I'm not having Billy try and snatch her away." a jealous boy with the name Tyler said.   (In the end, as one comes to find out, Sabrina broke up with Tyler for Billy.)  (Billy and her didn't last.)  (His relationships never do.)  (It was a lose-lose situation for Tyler and Sabrina.)  Billy Hargrove.  From what I've seen myself, and from all the stories that I overhear in the school cafeteria, he's one Hell of a guy. Good and bad. There's two sides to every story, isn't there?   (There's more bad than good, so I've heard.)   This being said, that's what I've come to do — give a story to those curious about Billy Hargrove.  Who is he? Really? Behind that smirk he wears proudly against his lips — what goes on behind closed doors? (Other than the obvious hook up's.)  Does this man actually have a heart towards other people or does he only give a shit about himself? I have no idea. Nobody does.  I guess what I'm trying to say here is.... if nobody's going to ask questions, I might as well try and seek out the answers myself.  Nothing else interesting has happened in Hawkins, Indiana until Billy and his family have moved in.   It's Indiana, for fuck sake's. Not shit is interesting and the only entertaining thing that was going on was Billy and watching him from afar like he was the main character in a movie.  To Billy, more than likely, it was his world and we were all just his side characters, living in it.  Not anymore.  I've acted before. Won a few awards and ribbons for my acting skills, actually. (Not to brag.)  So, I can gladly pretend to love Billy Hargrove - the most  selfish and mysterious man  there  is in Hawkins, Indiana.  What's the worst that could happen?

Again, nothing else interesting happens in this town. Why not play pretend and see what he’s all about? 

Yes, I’m well aware too; Curiosity killed the cat. But, satisfaction brought it back. 

[plasticnightmaredoll]

So, the "Justice League" finally got its own movie, eh? Oh, that thing from 2017 was just trash. It's gone. We don't need to look at it anymore.

But in all seriousness, it's great people called out for the Zack Snyder cut of the movie and actually got it! And, yes, it is a vast improvement over the Joss Whedon cut.

Now, my feelings about the DCEU have been pretty divided:

I actually did enjoy "Man of Steel" and found Superman to be relatable and likable for once (I'm not a Superman fan and don't come for me)

"Wonder Woman" was very entertaining and easily the best entry for me in the movie series so far.

"Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice" was a hot mess. Lots of good ideas but it was executed poorly. It felt kind of cheesy at times, especially that whole "Save Martha" thing. Jesse Eisenburg is not a convincing Lex Luthor. Ben Affleck is not a good actor and is a terrible Batman/Bruce Wayne. He's not as bad as George Clooney, but he's not much better either.

"Wonder Woman 1984" was a massive glow-down. Poor quality writing, Maxwell Lord was a weak villain, Cheetah was laughable, and the ending was so goddamn corny! Not to mention, it took ages for anything interesting to happen, and what was the deal with Steve Trevor possessing another dude's body? I mean...what?

Haven't seen "Suicide Squad" in its entirety but I do know and have seen enough to decide that it's a huge misstep. Haven't seen "Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn)" either but I have some interest in it so perhaps someday.

Haven't watched "Aquaman" but probably will eventually but I'm just not very motivated to see it. I like Jason Mamoa as Aquaman/Arthur Curry, but...I don't know. The trailers didn't really grab my attention.

The 2017 Joss Whedon version of "Justice League" was terrible -- worse than "Batman v Superman," worse than "Wonder Woman 1984." I thought the movie moved too quickly, lacked proper character development, and had some bad CGI (I mean, Mustache Gate, am I right?)

Onto the Synder Cut for "Justice League!" Spoilers ahead, of course:

These are really a collection of thoughts, opinions, and observations I had while watching the movie. I have only seen the 2017 film once and honestly don't want to watch it ever again, not even to "refresh my memory" of some details.

Steppenwolf

Steppenwolf was such a pitiful villain in the Whedon Cut. The CGI for him was terrible, and he looked like some weird dude in armor. His personality and motives were paper thin as well. He was a throw-away, token villain, and the only things memorable about him was his name and voice.

In the Snyder Cut, not only was Steppenwolf's CGI much more refined, his character design was imposing. His armor seemed to be alive, too, always shifting slightly, this way and that, which was an impressive sight. His motives, while nothing too deep or extraordinary, gave him a little more depth: he pissed off Darkseid and had to make up for it, and was clearly afraid of what could happen to him if he failed.

The name and voice obviously were still memorable but combined with the other improvements to his character, they were icing on the cake.

That being said, I don't think Steppenwolf is as intriguing or even remotely sympathetic as Loki and Thanos in the MCU.

Darkseid

Was Darkseid even mentioned in the Whedon cut? I can't remember and I don't want to watch that shitty movie again just to find out. However, I don't recall Darkseid making an appearance or even being spoken of in the 2017 version. Now, I haven't read DC (or Marvel) comics, so I don't know a lot about the guy, but he is supposedly one of the more iconic villains.

His motives are pretty simple, though: command and conquer. There isn't a lot of depth so far in the movies but he does pose a much larger threat than Steppenwolf did. You could tell Steppenwolf was intimidated by Darkseid, who was about as cold and menacing as they come. He's a complete villain in that regard, having no emotions and only seeking power for himself.

He looked great in the Snyder Cut. He was actually really fucking scary-looking. He made the beefcake Steppenwolf look like a puppy.

I'm glad that Darkseid made an appearance, even if he didn't fight the Justice League. It alludes to a much broader story, as well as foreshadows an epic boss fight down the line -- assuming the Snyder Cut is popular enough to convince the studios to make a direct sequel and not just abandon things in favor of some sort of soft reboot.

Superman/Clark Kent/Henry Cavill/Mustache Gate

Let's get this out of the way: Henry Cavill is hot af.

Ok, now that we got that out of the way, hooray for Snyder for getting rid of those nasty reshoot scenes involving Henry's CGI'd mouth! Can't say I missed them, you know? I mean, in the 2017 Whedon Cut, you could always spot reshoot scenes based on whether or not Henry's mouth looked normal and totally strange.

I think the 2017 movie had Superman grab Batman by the neck and ask, "Tell me: Do you bleed?" I'm relieved that was removed from the Synder Cut because it added too much of an evil tone to Superman, and we could clearly tell he was most upset with Batman upon being revived.

One massive problem with the 2017 movie was that it made every member of the Justice League look like bumbling idiots without Superman's help. It was downright embarrassing and unrealistic. I mean, you're telling me that Wonder Woman, a goddess, can't take on Steppenwolf? Or Victor Stone, a cyborg with incredible abilities? Making Superman key to winning isn't the problem, it's how it was done in the 2017 movie. He's already OP but that shouldn't mean his comrades have to be useless in comparison.

Superman was allowed to be OP in the Snyder Cut without making his team look incompetent. Like in the Avengers movies, everyone in the Justice League had a purpose and all of them worked together to defeat Steppenwolf. Superman obviously was key to winning, but, again, it wasn't like he was the only capable one during the battle.

I did like the black suit. It's kind of ominous but also very cool at the same time. But is it also foreshadowing something? I don't know...I haven't read the comics so I really don't have any idea lol.

Batman/Bruce Wayne/Batfleck

One glaring issue I still have is Ben Affleck is a mediocre actor at best and he's a terrible Bruce Wayne/Batman. I mean, they couldn't have found anyone else? Someone with, like, good acting abilities?

Martian Manhunter

This whole time -- THIS WHOLE GOTDAMM TIME -- Martian Manhunter was hiding in plain sight! General Swanwick, who I remember from "Man of Steel," IS Martian Manhunter. I didn't see that coming. I mean, I knew Martian Manhunter would appear in the Snyder Cut but I didn't know he'd have an alternate identity, let alone that of an existing character in the DCEU.

As much as I did like seeing him, I am glad he didn't play a big part because the movie already has plenty of characters as is, and introducing yet another one could have slowed things down and taken away from developing the plot.

The Runtime/Pacing

I mentioned already that the Whedon Cut felt rushed and needed much more time to develop its characters and plot. While I had doubts about whether or not making "Justice League" four hours long would be a good idea, it turns out that it was just what the story needed.

Character development was actually existent, and Cyborg/Victor Stone received a detailed backstory, and Flash/Barry Allen got some extra tidbits added to his character's story/background as well.

I actually thought Victor was a fascinating (if a bit tragic) character in the Whedon cut and was disappointed that he just sort of, like, popped up and fought alongside the other Justice League members with the tiniest amount of depth.

Despite an epic 4-hour runtime, it didn't feel slow, nor did it feel like any scenes were "filler." Every scene had a purpose and kept the story moving at a steady, comprehensible pace. It felt more like a 2.5-3 hour movie, honestly, which is a feat since pacing can often be one of a film's biggest issues ("Avengers: Endgame" also accomplished this feat with its 3-hour runtime feeling more like 2-2.5 hours but with no negative side effects of that). Breaking the movie into chapters, including an epilogue was a tad strange because it's not a very common thing, but I think it helped break up the epic 4 hours into separate, manageable but still cohesive pieces. Also, they helped easily transition from one portion to the next smoothly without any awkward cuts.

The Flash/Barry Allen/Ezra Miller

Barry still amused me in the Whedon Cut. He brought some good-natured humor and charm to the movie, preventing it from being too brooding and intense.

I think Ezra is a talented actor and does well in the Barry Allen role but he is, unfortunately, a problematic person. I mean, if he gets recast, he gets recast but hopefully, they pick someone else who has some acting abilities worth noting (i.e. Not a Ben Affleck type of actor)

The Final Battle

It was a huge improvement over the 2017 cut, as everyone was key to winning the final battle, not just Superman. It is meant to be a team of costumed heroes defeating a villain, not just one OP member of the team outdoing everyone else.

That being said, I felt that the final battle was a little bit anti-climatic. I don't know what it was but I just thought that it would be longer? I expected more to happen? More fighting? Not sure how to describe it, but I do feel like it wasn't as impressive as it could have been.

The Epilogue

A dystopian future involving an evil Superman and Joker somehow working WITH Batman was just...crazy. I mean, evil Superman, I can believe, but Joker and Batman working together (even reluctantly) is quite a sight.

Based on what I've been reading, this nightmare Bruce has could be setting up not one but two sequels for "Justice League." I would like to see how things will play out even if things get kind of dark. I'm getting the impression that Darkseid will kill Lois Lane, thus breaking Superman emotionally and making him compliant. That is unless Bruce intervenes in this timeline and prevents that from happening...but at the expense of his own life. Oh dear...

I definitely enjoyed the Zack Snyder version of "Justice League," and would definitely watch it again and again and again. I already have forgotten the majority of the Whedon Cut, and after seeing Synder's version, I think the 2017 movie will be rendered null and void. I hope it is just expelled from the DCEU canon entirely. That, and we get the "Justice League" sequels, preferably from Zack Snyder (Say what you want but I think he is a pretty good director for the most part and seems to really care about this work).

I honestly want to see a fight between the Justice League and Darkseid because I think that's what we're trying to build up to, and seeing as how Darkseid is one of the legendary villains in the DC comics, I would be extremely disappointed if this doesn't come to pass.

Also, as much as I like Batman/Bruce Wayne, seeing him sacrifice himself to save the team, including Lois and thus Superman's sanity, would be something else. It would bring everyone even closer together, for one, and I think that the negativity shared between Batman and Superman in the past would be completely forgiven. I'm not saying there isn't forgiveness now, but dying to save Superman's wife would change everything....if that makes sense? Does it make sense? I'm terrible at explaining my thoughts sometimes.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 11/?

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note:  Y/N- your Name.

Warnings: Description of Injury, Description of the court system, gets fucking heated again, Swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Monday morning came and she knew that Jason wasn’t going to go to class and she had to go meet up with him after school to give him notes. She started to dress a lot nicer today, since she was probably going to unintentionally meet some of Jason’s family today. 

Here’s another outfit because I do what I want<3

I really like being in control here lmao also just imagine it’s paired with black or beige heels because why the fuck not, right? Fashion.

This class, they discussed how circumstantial evidence affected the psychological profile of the attackers. For example, circumstantial evidence is when the entire amount of circumstances are stacked towards each other and it becomes less likely that it’s all a coincidence. The Professor had said, So when the case is circumstantial, it’s likely a crime of passion and having a criminal profile for the attacker is unlikely. He continued.

It was fascinating. She assumed it was a case that forensics would be heavily involved in and that the criminal psych crew wouldn’t handle. She was right. More likely than not, they wouldn’t handle a circumstantial case because of the fact that it’s not calculated, for the most of the time.

Her notes were a mess again. Barely legible, she’d have to use Jason’s computer to print and get them to be able to be read, which was fine. She was expecting to have to do that either way, legible or not, because he needs a copy and she does too.

The things I’ll do for the weird pretty boy in my criminal psych class, she thought, worth it. 

She would end up texting Jason once class ended, they had already been texting most of the morning, anyway. 

Hey, just finished class, are you busy?

Nope, siblings are at work. Dad’s still in Metropolis.

And your grandfather?

Do not know. He’s nice, I swear.

Be there soon x.

That was the first time that she had even sent him an x, which is a kiss, but she felt like it was right, so she did it. What a flirt I am, she joked with herself, It’s a fucking x, I need to shut up. She laughed at herself.

She got into the car and drove the way to Wayne Manor, a trip she knew all-too-well at this point, however, the press was bombarding the entrance, so she couldn’t pull into the driveway and had to pay for parking at the nearby park. She paid for a day’s worth of parking and began to walk to the Manor. With her bag in tow.

Of course, the press noticed her. Why wouldn’t they? And they were down her throat.

“Why are you out here if you don’t speak English and are known to be close to the family?” one said in a downplaying tone to her, she tried to sneak past, knowing she was live on national TV and not exactly feeling like starting a fight.

“Hello? We’re talking to you, Ma’am!” one yelled at her, she started shielding her face from the flashing lights and the cameras.

She would make it 2, maybe 3 steps before a camera was shoved in her face. Then, she started running. She was quick, and she would dodge between them all before the security snatched her into the gates of the Manor. She breathed a quick sigh of relief once she was in. 

The press didn’t like this, and they would keep yelling at her as she stood in the driveway, trying to catch her breath from her escapade of running through the vultures.

“Just tell us your name!” one yelled.

“Tell us what you like doing on the weekends!” another yelled, and she got an idea, before someone could answer she screamed,

“I like doing your mum on the weekends, bitch!” before flipping off the press and running to the door while the press started talking about her.

She really had to catch her breath this time, she was so out of shape and the fact that she was lugging her notes around made it worse. When a friendly looking English butler came out onto the step with her, hand outstretched to shake hers, “Hello there, Y/N, I’m Alfred, Jason’s grandfather.”

She was taken aback by this and slightly jumped when he greeted her, but she took his hand and shook it, “Hi Alfred, please tell me you didn’t hear that,” she laughed.

“I heard that, that’s how I knew you were here. Jason was right, you’re as crazy as he is,” he said.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry,” she laughed again, “I swear I didn’t mean for you to hear me and my childish insults.”

“Child listen, I’ve been dealing with the press for years, I promise you, they deserve the insults, childish or not,” Alfred reassured her, “Do you wish to come inside, or are you still out of breath, Y/N?” he asked.

“I’ll come inside. I’ve given the press enough content for one day,” she joked/

“It’s been nice, Y/N, really. Thank you for the entertainment, but I have work to do.”

“Anytime, Alfred.”

And they parted ways, Y/N went to Jason’s room, knocking. When he groaned, she cracked the door open and stuck her head in,

“You dead?”

“No.”

“Good. Hi,” she said as she entered his room and walked to his desk to drop her bag and pull out his desk chair to put it beside his bed again, “How are you, still in pain?” she asked when she sat down.

“Hi,” he whined.

“Hi,” she repeated to him.

“Hi.”

She leant in to his face and rested her forehead against his, she didn’t know if this was the comfort he needed, but she did it anyway, when he wrapped his arms around her back, though, she knew she was doing something right.

“Hi, Jason.”

“Mhm,” he whispered.

She stopped leaning against his forehead, much to his dismay, as he groaned at her moving, but she had other ideas.

She leant and moved in closer to his lips, putting her hand on his cheek, and then leaning in for a kiss. It was a lot like their first kiss, small and passionate, but enough to prove that she was just trying to make sure he was okay. When she pulled away again, he groaned again.

“Now, will you tell me how you are, sir?”

“In pain,” he managed to say.

“Have you been walking around? You should.”

“You told... me to rest,” his speech wasn’t slurred, but it was slower than normal.

“You still need to move your joints, Jay. Just sparingly so you don’t hurt yourself. too much time off of your feet will make walking again harder on you,” she said.

“Mhm,” he groaned.

“Okay fine, but when you need more physical therapy don’t come crying to me, Jay.”

“Is this... our first... fight?”

“No, you goon. I’m giving you medical advice and you’re being stubborn, it’s advice and I can’t force you.”

“Remember... that... when I get... hurt fighting.”

“Is this an often occurrence?”

“Not... often.”

“Well I can live with it being a once-in-a-blue moon event, since you clearly have security.”

“Special... edition because... of my... injuries,” he groaned.

“Damn. Still, better than nothing. Anyway, I have notes to write, so I’m going to move you laptop over here, alright?” she asked.

“Mhm,” he said, very sleepy-sounding.

“You can sleep, Jay,” she said as she unplugged his laptop and walked back to her chair, she put it on the chair and moved her bag to beside the chair, sat down, opened the laptop, and began typing. Jason would put one of his hands on one of her knees.

“Do you need something, Jay?”

“You,” he whispered out.

“Jay, I need to write these notes, you need them,” she said.

He groaned and moved to try to turn his back to her, forgetting he was injured and taking a massive breath in when he tried to.

“God, don’t move, Jason,” she said, placing a hand on his abdomen, “You can be upset that I’m not in the bed holding you, but you shouldn’t turn around, baby.”

He stared at her when she called him ‘baby’, which prompted her to blush a lot, but she tried to ignore him to pretend that he wasn’t piercing her soul with his staring to get her to cuddle with him. She kept trying to type out the notes, the class was the same amount of length as it should have been, so there was a lot of notes.

She wanted to cuddle with him, she knew she did. But she told him she’d get him the notes he wanted for class, and that was something she promised she’d do. But then she remembered something.

“Oh, I’ve been forgetting to ask, how’s your best friend?”

“Will? He’s... he’s okay... why?”

“Because he got injured too, remember?”

“Oh... yeah he... did.”

“Mhm! So I asked if you knew anything, Jay. Are you forgetting stuff because of the pain or something?” she asked.

“Just... drowsy.”

“Yeah? Well good thing I’m almost done.”

“Hurry... up” he laughed, his laugh was pained, but he did laugh.

She knew him forgetting his best friend was injured was weird, but she didn’t think anything of it. She just kept typing the notes out till she was done, at which point, she hooked the laptop up to his printer on the other side of his room, much to his dismay that she had to leave him, and printed the notes.

She put them in order on top of his desk, plugged his laptop back in, put his chair back and put her notes back in her bag before taking off her jacket and slinging it on the chair she had been sitting on.

He groaned as he watched her walk around his room, he was in pain, it had been two days since the incident and he was still struggling. Dick told him that he’d be in a lot less pain the closer it got to his stitches being taken out. He hoped it was true.

When she went and sat on his bedside, leaning her forehead to his and cupping his face with her hands. She kissed him again. He kissed her back, wrapping his hands along her lower back and gently adding pressure as she sat with her legs off the bed. 

He parted his lips and she did the same as they danced with their tongues. Not assertion of dominance, but trying to be on top on the other when her hands found their way into his hair. She ended up on top of him, with one of her hands used to stabilize herself as they made out. He was able to put a hand on her ass and just grab it. There was some movement, because there had to be, but the only touching was his hand and her hand. 

Because they couldn’t go further. The two of them were cock-blocked to touch closer by his injuries. When they broke lips, she sighed because she couldn’t get closer to him. 

But she laid to his left like they had done the night before, and she cuddled on him when he would bury his face into her hair.

Again, the moments they shared were always the slowest and calmest moments that they adored. She wanted to go back on dates with him like they did before the events of his injuries. She wanted to have the adventure of running away from the press, not just running into his house. 

She didn’t know when he was going to heal from his injuries, but she swore she would take him on a crazy and worthwhile date when he got better. She didn’t know when that was going to be, but it was going to be.

------------------------------------------

They ended up falling asleep until the next morning. And Y/N’s car? It got towed. Y/N had class? Yeah, she did. Was all of his siblings home? Yes, yes they were. So, how was she going to make it out of the house before they noticed? Well, it was 4am. She and Jason awoke when she realized the time, freaked out, and kissed him ‘bye’. At least she thought it was bye, he clearly had a way to pull her into conversation whenever he wanted.

“Don’t go,” he said, his speech seeming to have recovered.

“Jay! I have to go, you know this, I have class, I have notes to write, I’m wearing the exact same clothes that I did yesterday,” she said, panicked.

“Can I see you tonight?”

“Tonight? Yeah of course. Why? Will you miss me?”

“What if I do?”

“You have my number, Jay,” she said.

“What if that’s not enough?” he asked.

“Then you’ll see me tonight, but I have to warn you, I have another class tomorrow so we can’t spend all day in your bed.”

“That’s a shame. I think it’s been like 3 days since I got injured though, so if all goes well,” he winked, while propping himself in a sitting position for the first time since he got injured and grabbed her waist to pull her on him, she was sitting in his lap, “If all goes well,” he whispered, “Maybe we won’t have to stop,” he spoke in her ear as if he was begging her to stay until he could move again.

“We aren’t supposed to speed run our way into a relationship, Jason,” she purred.

“No one needs to know how serious we are but us,” he said. He was captivating her in every was possible, blowing on her neck with every word he said.

If they hadn’t had their own lives they needed to attend to, lord knows what the two of them would be doing.

She tried to fix her appearance to the best of her abilities before she had to go outside and see the world, she didn’t exactly want the rest of them to think she was blowing Jason in his room after he had been stabbed in an attack.

But if the tabloids ran their mouths, lord knows what she’d say to fight back against them.

She checked her appearance one last time before going over to Jason and kissing him bye and see you later. She wanted to kiss him for a longer period of time, but before she knew it she was running out of the house and down the streets, she was going to have to walk home that night.

Had Jason known that she was going to walk home, he wouldn’t have let her go that day. but it was around 4am, the sun was going to rise and she’d be in broad daylight, she thought she was going to be fine and to be fair, she didn’t have reason to think she wouldn’t be okay. She always ended up okay in Metropolis, so why wouldn’t it b the same in Gotham. Gotham had many more heroes compared to Metropolis anyway.

  I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, she thought, Wait no, don’t say that.

[flying-nightwing]

The Three Words to Remember in Dealing with the End

I’m trying something new y’all, this is a third person POV because I want you to unveil the actions at the same pace as Jason and not MC/reader. I absolutely loved writing this, so hopefully I did it right and you will enjoy this adventure like I did!

ps: this isn’t something fun or light hearted, it might be triggering for some people. if you are in a fragile mindset right now (especially with everything that’s happening right now), maybe it would be best to save it for later. Please take care of yourselves xx

Masterlist in bio/pinned

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader (ish) 

Word count: 5060 

Warnings: death (major theme), language

Summary: Jason finds something deeply unsettling during a not so typical night in Gotham (I’m not saying more y’all, read and find out).

It had been a strange night for Jason. Things had been quiet, not too quiet to become suspicious, but enough to underwhelm him at an unsettling level. Everything from the gloomy, yellow-ish night sky above him to his tensed muscles screamed trouble--and his instincts were rarely wrong--but there was nothing big happening. He was almost tempted to pick a fight with the wrong person just for the sake of it, just to shake off this nagging feeling that serious shit was about to blow in his face. Although starting beef again with Sionis would be quite entertaining, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with another tantrum from the eccentric man on the longer term. 

So instead, he kicked the door from the building’s roof on which he was hanging around and half heartedly climbed down the stairs. Plastic tarps were flapping around in his face like badly designed Halloween ghosts, and the wind in the half constructed walls were whispering unintelligible songs in his ears. That specific construction site had been abandoned as the recurrent vandalism had weighed the construction costs into the negative, making the company leaving it behind completely as a rotting proof the poorer Gotham neighborhoods were no longer a concern to city hall. Jason thought about the community center that had been bulldozed down to make room for the apartment complex, leaving dozens if not hundreds of children and teenagers without an after school hangout place, and it made him sigh. Now the cheap carcass served to shelter squatters, or well, him when he needed a hideout in between safe houses. 

The building in itself wasn’t very high like the skyscrapers one could find in the diamond district, it was rather on par with the rest of the apartment complexes around. From a distance, you couldn’t even differentiate it from the rest. Cheap, smog stained concrete looked the same whether or not it was a finished product. The aesthetics wasn’t something developers around here were aiming for, nor were the resident seeking lodging. Low income neighborhoods didn’t get to benefit from trendy landscaping. But the city didn’t really care about that, they claimed nobody really came around here anyway, like poor people weren’t people in the first place. But Jason knew, and every day he resented those officials on the city council a little bit more. 

A thud coming from the floor he had just passed made him halt his descent, his ears strained to try and catch some more noise. He waited a few seconds, and concluded it must have been a squatter tripping and falling on the floor when no other sound followed. But he hadn’t taken a full step down that a loud and clear cry for help bounced on the unfinished plaster on the walls. Without much more thinking, he turned around and climbed back up the five steps he had already taken, going straight for the origin of the sound. He was about to round the corner of a threshold when he bumped into a frantic young woman, her eyes wide and terrified.

“Please help!” She cried, gripping the sleeves of his leather jacket like it was a lifeline. She had an angry, scabbed rope mark on her neck and bruises the size of fingerprints around. “Somebody’s after me, he tried to strangle me!”

Well, that was a new one. Usually, there would be little punks making graffiti or trying to steal material from the structure, petty non-violent crimes like that, but he had never seen homicide, especially not since he started coming around. Nevertheless, he gently pushed the woman aside and pulled out his gun, ready to investigate.

“Stay close” He said, and she nodded vigorously. He carefully walked inside the room, analysing his surroundings for any thread or hostile individual. The floor creaked lightly under his boots, making the woman jump every other second. However, his search eventually came up empty, so he clicked the safety of his gun back on and slid it back in his thigh holster. He faced the girl and shrugged. “If there was anyone here, he’s long gone”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah” He replied. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m not sure” She flinched, still visibly. “To either questions, to be honest. All I remember was seeing this blurred figure grab my head and slam it on the floor, then his hands were around my neck… And I woke up, and there we are” 

“Do you have any idea who did this?”

“No really” She rubbed her temples. “I was grabbed on my way back from work and dragged in here. I know it was a man, but he was masked”

“Damn” He muttered, looking around. There wasn’t much left to do now, beside making sure that woman got home safely. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Do you have somewhere safe to go?” 

“Yeah, I have an apartment a few blocks away” She nodded timidly.

They climbed down the stairs, Jason following a pace behind her. She was recoiled on herself, her eyes darting from one place to another like she was expecting to be jumped at any time now. She was shivering from the harsh wind, clearly not dressed for one of Gotham’s cold September nights. He thought she was lucky to have fallen onto him and not someone with ill intentions. The people coming here usually left each other alone, but with the lady’s assailant on the loose, he wouldn’t be so trusting of everyone’s intentions around here. 

“Here, we’re almost out” He said as the front door came into view. She sighed in relief as she took the last step down and closed the distance with the door. She reached for the handle, pulled, but nothing moved. She then tried to push, but it didn’t move any more. 

“I-It’s like it’s locked” She stuttered in disbelief. 

“Let me try” Jason stepped forward, pushing and pulling the door like she did before. Strange, that door was never, ever locked. He then tried to pick it, even break it, to no avail. The door simply wouldn’t open. He huffed and took a step back, thinking. “Let’s try the backdoor”

The pair moved through the ground floor, passing in front of a few empty sleeping bags on the way. Jason went straight for the small door, only to be met with the same problem. 

“Alright, you wanna play this game?” He muttered harshly, pulling out his gun and aiming at the handle. He fired a shot, but the bullet bounced right back on his red helmet. “Son of a bitch!”

He muttered a few more curses before kicking the stubborn door in frustration, then turned to the woman. 

“Well, somebody doesn’t want us to leave '' He stated with bitter humour. “Maybe your wannabe killer is still around, after all”

“Oh god” She gasped, her chest suddenly heaving quickly. She was having a panic attack. “We’re trapped. We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

“Hey, hey” He tried to reassure her, an uncertain hand on her shoulder. “I won’t let him get near you. He certainly didn’t plan on having me around, so he’ll stay away if he knows what’s good for him. We’ll find a way out”

She bent over, hands on her knees, and shut her eyes tight, focusing on her breathing until it somewhat calmed down. She then nodded slowly, standing straighter again. “O-okay”

“You sure?”

She took a deep breath and nodded again.

“Alright…” He drawled out, looking at her for a second more to be sure she was actually okay. “Let’s go around and see if there’s anyone in here tonight, and if they have seen anything”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” She eyed him with uncertainty. “...He could be out there”

“Then it’s his mistake” He shrugged. “Come on”

Like earlier, she followed closely behind him as he checked each floor in detail. He came across a few homeless people he had seen around before, none of which could ever commit murder, or attempt to for that matter. He saw it in their eyes, they were harmless. They had been on the second floor, the only one which seemed inhabited at all that night. The third floor came up empty as well, so Jason didn’t waste time there either. However, he was a little more careful on the fourth. It was where he had found the girl, so there was a slight chance the assaulter might still be hanging around there. He began with the first apartment on the left, then the one on the right he initially searched. He paid specific attention to any detail he might find; hair, cloth, blood splatter, anything. He was crouched over a suspicious stain when he heard it.

A deafening scream.

In less than a second, he was on his feet and through the threshold of an adjacent room, only to come face to face with a decaying corpse. The woman was staring with horror like she was in a trance, a hand covering her mouth to either hold back any more screams or her own vomit. Probably both, Jason thought. 

“That definitely complicates things now” He hummed. 

“How can you be so calm?” She was freaking out again. “There’s a body! A dead body!”

“Yeah, I know” He replied, unbothered, taking a step closer to observe. The nauseous smell of decomposition was starting to get through his helmet, and he genuinely wondered how she hadn’t barfed her guts up already. Her state of shock perhaps helped to keep her together, at least for now. “Looks like it’s a woman. Probably has been there for two weeks or--fuck this is nasty”

He backed up and gently pulled her out of the room, away from the corpse. She didn’t need to see anymore of it. 

“Well, there’s good news and bad news” He sighed. “Bad news is your guy and this poor woman’s killer are most likely the same person. Good news is that you, unlike her, escaped him”

“Oh god” She gagged, but dry heaved on air. “This can’t be happening”

“Okay, listen” He sighed, “I’m sure this is a lot for you, and you didn’t ask for any of this. But the killer is potentially here keeping us trapped, and I need you to hold it together a little bit longer until I figure this out, kay?”

She gave him a wild look like he was crazy. “How can you expect me to hold it together?”

“Is there anything you can focus on?” He tried, getting a bit impatient. Things weren’t adding up in his head and he needed to concentrate, but he couldn’t if his new unwilling investigation partner started freaking out every other minute. Then, he noticed her fingers fidgeting with a necklace around her neck, a small ring with a azur gem hanging from it. “What does that ring mean?”

She looked down at it, like she was surprised she had subconsciously showed it up. “Uh, it was my mother’s. Family heirloom, y’know. She gave it to me when I graduated college”

“It’s very pretty” He said. “Look at it and think about your mother, okay?”

She nodded, and he took a step away to pace around in peace. So there was a killer who managed to trap them into the building, or intended to trap only her, which was why he was hiding away now that Jason was here too. But then again, Marty on the second floor didn’t see or hear anything all night, and that guy had a sharper ear than a cat. Then came the question of why he didn’t see or smell the body on his first general scouting of the place. Surely, a decaying body would have ticked him off way sooner. Maybe the killer dragged the body from a higher floor? It would make no sense as to why he would have done that, but there was no other logical explanation. 

He went to rub the bridge of his nose, only to be met with his helmet. He let out another muffled curse and looked at the ceiling in exasperation. “This is the one time I could use one of my stupid brothers”

“Why?”

He let out a dry chuckle. “They’re idiots and annoying as fuck, but they’re better detectives than I could ever be. Solving this nonsense puzzle would be an easy game for them”

“Then what’s stopping you from calling them?”

Jason paused, staring at the woman for a moment. No, it wasn’t that simple. “Last time we spoke, I… We fought pretty bad. I don’t think they ever want to see me again”

“I’m sure--” 

“We’re on our own for this, trust me” He interrupted, his tone dry enough to make her recoil. He coughed and relaxed his tense posture, taking a deep breath. “I can solve this, I don’t need them. I’ll go check the body again, stay here”

“Wait!” She called before he could turn around. “What if he comes back?”

He blinked a few times, then began patting his side and pockets. He wouldn’t leave her a gun, or she’d hurt herself in the state she was in, or accidently shoot him for that matter. Nervous firing rarely even found their intended target anyway. A knife was also out of the question for the same reasons. Besides, she didn’t seem skilled enough to hold her own with a blade, and he had no idea what weapons the killer carried. The knife would basically be useless, if not more dangerous for her. He finally felt a small lump in his pant pocket, then fished for it. He pulled a small taser that definitely wasn’t his, remembering he had disarmed it from a goon earlier that night. He had no idea he had kept it, but it would do. 

“Here” He held it up to eye level, pressing the button. A blue-ish current was formed, crackling and fizzling. “You hold it out and press the side button to turn it on. Don’t point it at me or yourself. Got it?”

“Uh-- I guess--”

“Great” He pushed the device in her hand and turned on his heels without more ceremonies. 

He inhaled deeply and held his breath as he returned to the corpse, thinking about a thousand better ways he could have been spending his Friday night. He crouched next to it, grimacing at the decaying skin that made the victim’s identity barely recognizable. He noticed the dried out hair first, it was the same color as the poor girl on the other side of the wall. The exact same, he could have sworn. The killer must have a very specific m.o. he stuck to. There had been a couple of girls going missing in the last weeks, it must have been one of them. Nobody would think to check here, or rather nobody would bother. He turned his head to the side, coughing as he worked to catch his breath despite the putrid smell. He forced himself to return to his half assed detective work, scanning for any trace of struggle or aggression. The rope the killer used to choke her was still around her neck, but that was nothing Jason could work with as he already knew about the obvious neck fetish that was in play here. He poked the rotten skin with the end of his gun, pushing hair and clothes away to try and find something he could have missed with a first glance. No viable piece of information could be found in the teeth or under the nail since he was about two weeks too late, and he could not make the distinction between decomposition marks and actual contusion marks. Dammit. He had nothing.

He was about to give up when something shiny got his attention on the victim’s chest. There was a chain plunging into the neckline of her shirt, and with his gun he carefully pulled it up. He was certain his brain physically broke in two when he came face to face with a stained, yet recognizable ring with an azur stone. 

“What…” He trailed off softly. “... The Fuck”

Thinking about it, the victim’s clothes were awfully similar to what the lady on the other side was wearing, beside the obvious dirtiness difference. He looked over his shoulder, to where she was pacing nervously, then back to the corpse. Same hair, same clothes, same ring. Same approximate size, same bone structure, rope position coinciding with her strangling mark. Jason did not want to be thinking what he was thinking, because only crazy people were seeing ghosts. But was he totally sane? That was debatable. It would explain why they were locked in the building for no goddamn reason, or why Marty didn’t hear anything, or why he did not notice the corpse or the smell during his initial search, or why that lady did not stop once to rethink asking an armed stranger in a red mask for help, or why… 

Besides, ghosts would not even make the list of the weirdest things he’s seen. He himself came back from the dead, so the idea wasn’t actually that far fetched. But now, the question he faced was, how do you tell someone they’re dead, when they’re convinced they’re alive? Bruce’s training did not prepare him for that, and honestly neither did Ra’s. 

He slowly stood up, trying to scour his brain for a gentle way to break it to her. He couldn't just rip the bandaid off, that would be insensitive. And if she really did control who could get in and out of the building, would sending her into ghost shock--if that was even a thing--risk trapping him here forever as well? How does one even deal with a bloody ghost? Reluctantly, he returned to the other room, where the woman looked at him with hopeful eyes. Jason felt a pinch in his heart, knowing he would be the one to break the news to her.

“Anything?” She asked, her arms wrapping around herself. He gave a sad nod, and she sighed in relief. “Good, I just wanna go home”

“I…” He struggled to find the words. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N)” She said, uncertain. 

Jason was glad his mask hid his expression. His eyes closed as his suspicions were officially confirmed; she had disappeared a little less than three weeks ago without a trace. She had been presumed dead by the GCPD, apparently rightfully so, he found out. 

“(Y/N), I have good news and bad news”

She kept staring at him to let him speak. She didn’t seem to grasp the undertone of his words, or how he somehow said it completely differently than the previous time. She really wasn��t aware of her situation. 

“Good news is that I found who the victim is” He began, his voice heavy. He wasn’t the type to just get emotional for strangers like this, but this one especially struck a chord in him. “Bad news is… You’re--you’re not going home, (Y/N)”

Her face fell. “W-What?”

“The… Body, on the other side” He half heartedly pointed behind him. “It’s you. You went missing three weeks ago, and you’re...”

“That’s crazy!” She shrieked. “That’s impossible! I’m here, I’m right here, I’m real…”

Her voice faltered at the end, like she was starting to doubt herself. Jason softly jerked his head to the other room, silently making his way back to the corpse with her carefully following behind. He stopped and crouched like he had done minutes ago, and in the same way, lifted the ring. Something clicked in her face, a newfound horror etching on her features. This time, it wasn’t because she found a corpse, but because she found out the corpse was hers. 

“No…” She stumbled back, and Jason hurried to steady her. He didn’t know if it was necessary, since she probably couldn’t even feel physical pain anymore, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He escorted her out of the room once again and waited beside her as her entire reality came crashing down. It felt surreal for him, he couldn’t even imagine what it was like for her. He let her slide down the wall and rest her head in her hands as she processed all of this.  “I can’t be… My family, they must be worried sick”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)” He sighed, sliding down next to her.

“But I’m--” She tried to argue, then a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m not ready to go”

He took off his mask for the first time, ruffling his hair in the process. The least he could do was to give her a human face as the last she would ever see. “Take all the time you need, I’ve got nowhere else to be”

She eyed him with confusion, at both the removal of his mask and his words. “Why?”

He smiled sadly at her. “I don’t think you should be alone right now. I’m Jason, nice to formally meet you”

“I don’t think it matters now” She mumbled, casting her glance downward. She handed him back the small taser, realizing she wouldn't need it anymore. “I’m dead. I don’t even know how I’m even still here, or where I’m even going. I don’t understand anything--”

“You don’t have to,” He interrupted softly. “It’s okay not to understand. And it’s okay to be afraid. But death is a part of life, and despite how scary it might be when it rings at your door, sometimes it’s better not to fight it”

“Easy to say for someone who is still alive” She said, making his lips subtly curl up. At least she was calming down now.

“I died years ago” He admitted, and her eyes widened comically. “No, I’m not a ghost if that’s what you’re wondering. I was resurrected through magic… But I know what it feels like”

“How did you die?” Her voice was barely a whisper. 

Jason hesitated. He wasn’t used to talking about this, but he figured he could at least vent to a ghost. It might even make her feel better about the circumstances of her death, he thought. “I died in an explosion” He finally revealed as he looked away. “I realized I was dead when the countdown reached two seconds and nobody came for me. Two seconds isn’t a long time to come to term with the end of your own existence, and everything that comes after”

“I suppose not” She sighed. “I guess I’m lucky I have time to figure it out. What’s it like, on the other side?”

“I honestly can’t really remember” He shook his head. “My memory from the moment I closed my eyes to when I reopened them is scrambled. And even if I did recall, it might be different from you”

“You think so?”

“I hope so”

He did not elaborate on that, and she did not ask. Jason wasn’t sure whether his visions of hell were from his time in the grave, or if the pit messed with his perspective, but he certainly hoped this girl wouldn’t have to go through something similar as well. They waited in silence for a moment as neither felt the need to speak up. He respected her need to have a moment to herself to absorb all this like he had wished he could have had. He had never felt as vulnerable as when he waited, helpless and unable to move, for the bomb to go off. He had been terrified, clinging to a last hope it was just a nightmare, or that help would have swept in at the last second like it always happened in the movies. He had been truly alone then. Perhaps it was why she had found him earlier, she felt his connection to death and his ability to relate. She seeked one last ray of warmth before disappearing, one last attempt not to be forgotten by reaching out to someone with the best chance to understand her. He doubted it was a coincidence he was the one she let help her.

“You didn’t have to stay with me…” She spoke up. It could have been ten minutes or more, Jason couldn’t tell. He had been in his head the whole time. “But you did, for what it’s worth. Thank you, Jason”

“You’re welcome, I guess” He half shrugged. “It’s… It’s just things I wish had been said to me in my last moments, comfort I wish had been brought to me when it was time to go. I’m glad it helped ease this transition for you”

She gave him a small smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. He could feel her unnatural cold radiating on him, see the bleakness of her skin and the absence or a steady rise and fall of her chest now that he was up close.

“Well, I’m glad you found me” She muttered, letting her hand fall back down to her side. “I… I think I’m ready to go. But before, could you do me a last favor?

“Sure” He nodded.

“Could you bring back my necklace to my mother?” She asked, staring straight into his eyes. And probably his soul, by the looks of it. “This case might never be solved, I don’t want it to be lost in an evidence bag”

He was initially surprised by the request, but it made sense. This would be the last thing her mother would have of her daughter, and it didn’t belong in a locker kept away forever. He nodded. “I can do that”

“Thank you” She gave him the first real smile he had seen on her face. Her eyes had lost the life in them, that was obvious, but there was this peacefulness that hadn’t been there before. Her resolve to accept her faith showed more and more in her expression, and it was steadily becoming clearer she did not belong to this plane of existence anymore. Two weeks trapped in between life and death without being heard or seen must have been so exhausting, and now she was ready to let go. “Just one more thing”

Jason furrowed his eyebrows at her sudden knowing expression. He could see it clearly despite her image slowly fading away. Was she even aware of it? He didn’t know, but it didn’t seem painful. He hoped it wasn’t, she deserved an undisturbed rest for what had been done to her in this life.

“A piece of unwanted advice from a dead girl?” Her tone was a bit playful. He let out a quiet chuckle, his shoulders barely raising. “Call your brothers”

She became serious, and so did he.

“The worst thing about this, is that I left this life without even being able to say proper goodbyes to my family” She explained. “I wish more than anything I could just see them one more time to tell them I love them, but I can’t. Don’t take for granted there will always be a later for it, because there might not be”

“I…” 

“Please, for me” She said, almost entirely faded now. “I hope I see you again one day, Jason. Thank you for everything”

And then she was gone. Jason stared at the empty space beside him, like there had never been anyone there. The cold spot was gone, and with it the last image of her smiling face. The smell of the corpse returned at full strength now that she wasn’t there to manipulate the surroundings, but he couldn’t be bothered by it as much as he was before. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from where she had been seconds ago, struggling to tell whether or not it had actually happened. But it must have, the entire experience had felt way too real to be a product of his imagination, and the dead body served as a material proof his head didn’t conjure it all up. Slowly, he stood up and went back to the body for one last time. He’d have to place an anonymous call to the police to tip them to the body tomorrow, after giving a heads up to the squatters to steer clear of the building until the situation died down. He bent down and only took the necklace without disturbing anything else, slipping it in a pocket for safe keeping. He’d also have to find a way to give it back to her mother without making it seem like he had killed the girl…

With one last silent goodbye to a new found yet ephemeral friend, Jason made his way down to the first floor, his step a little slower and heavier than last time. The first light of the morning peeked shyly through the sky of Gotham as the clouds appeared clear up, like it was their way of reflecting the peaceful passing of a soul on the other side. He never believed in symbolism in nature, but this once, just this once, he could make an exception. He reached the bottom of the stairs and carefully made his way to the main doors, pausing in front of it. The birds in the walls didn’t seem to mind him as they sang the arrival of the morning, and he put back his mask to face the outside once again. He gripped the door handle, pushing even so slightly.

It opened with a groan.

Sighing, he stepped outside and fished for his phone in his back pocket. He went to his contacts, scrolling down until he found the name he was looking for. Reluctantly, he pressed it and came face to face with the taunting call icon. Surely he would still be awake, his patrol would have ended not too long ago. Or he’d be asleep, and then he’d disturb him. Hesitating, his thumb hovered above the lock screen button, then over the call one, then again, the lock screen. He let out a frustrated huff, looking at the sky. There might not be a later… Or perhaps there will. But was he ready to take that chance? He looked at his phone again, taking a deep breath and making his decision.

As the first sun ray reflected his helmet, he called Dick Grayson for the first time in years.

[vidimillion]

Hc of jason and nico meeting pre HoO?

thank you for asking this. i hope you wanted something really long, because not only is this really long but it’s also only half coherent.

jason was freshly eleven when he met the ten-year-old nico di angelo. it was early in the morning when he'd heard a centurion of the third cohort mention a disturbance in the forest. it wasn't exactly eavesdropping, he swears. he was just passing by them, when he knew he should've been asleep.

years later, he didn't know why exactly he did it, but he supposed he was young. he wanted to prove himself.

or maybe more accurately, he wanted to break his unearned reputation of being a golden boy. what better way to do that then to do something he wasn't supposed to?

being the dumbass kid he was, he went out alone to the forest, bringing his sword and nothing else. he didn't know what to expect but when he saw a black mass in the forest, sucking up the light like death itself, he was expecting a monster.

then the mass turned around, eyes afraid and hands shaking as they gripped a long black sword. and jason saw that he was just a kid.

before jason could do anything, the boy turned away and disappeared into shadows. freaking out about whether or not he'd just seen a ghost, he ran into the barracks and told the first person he saw. whispers go around fast, and by that afternoon jason hears the theories of who he saw in the forest— a son of pluto.

jason convinces the senate not to send patrols to look for the boy. "You didn't see him, he looked so scared." he'd say. "A patrol would scare him away! I'll look for him myself, every day, I promise!"

he keeps the promise, even when the boy doesn't show up for weeks after that. he keeps it because he knows what it's like to be left confused and alone, forced to fight things you didn't know were real. and he knows it's normal, he knows that's just what happens to demigods, but it doesn't change how much he remembered wanting someone to save him.

he sees the boy again weeks later. and before the boy can run away again he yells after him, "We know what you are!"

the boy freezes, and it looks like jason made it even worse but at least he bought himself time. "No, I mean— you're a demigod right? I am too, we all are here."

jason smiles at him, "do you want me to show you in?"

(actual headcanons following)

jason decides this guy, who's name is nico di angelo, is his best friend now. before bringing him into camp, he felt weird about possibly having another child of the big three around. but when nico confirms the fact three days later, all jason feels is relief.

nico bunks next to jason in the fifth cohort but says he can't pick one to join. he says it's because he can't stay for long, and jason asks why but nico doesn't give him a straight answer. so instead, he takes nico shopping for bedsheets. jason wants to make sure the bunk nico's claimed as his stays his, even when he's gone.

the reputation they build for themselves is incredible. as the only kids of the big three in camp, they're powerful separated but unstoppable together. (this proves for fantastic entertainment when they spar, and a very tough fight for whoever they're going up against if they're a team.)

it's also a worthy mention that not only do they become more powerful when they're fighting together, when they're off the battlegrounds they also get a whole lot stupider. they've got wild spirits, and though they reign it in when they're on their own, they cause shitstorms of trouble when they're together.

(more under the cut)

nico's gone for weeks at a time but every time he comes back jason never gets less excited. he greets him when he arrives and waves him off when he leaves again. that becomes the norm soon— whenever nico's here, you can find jason right next to him.

the senate said nico couldn't stay unless he picked a cohort, and if he picked a cohort he couldn't leave. when he one day comes back with a report from pluto himself explaining why nico has to come and go sometimes, they find a way for him to stay. (they won't hesitate to admit the boy's grown on the community. they wouldn't wanna say goodbye to him either.) and thus, nico was freshly eleven when he's made the ambassador of pluto.

jason isn't allowed to leave camp jupiter, so sometimes nico sneaks him out with shadow travel. the first time they did it, jason actually puked because his twelve-year-old system is a little weak. it was worth it though, because nico bought him his first mcdonalds. jason doesn't think he could ever go back.

that's also how he found out that nico's dad gives him unlimited money to spend on whatever. he realizes nico has zero budgeting skills when he was nearly persuaded to buy a twenty dollar ice cream

when they were both thirteen years old, they were both officially allowed to go on minor quests. on the first one they take, it goes haywire but they meet a little puerto rican girl their age. after a little bit of explaining (and also a little bit of de-escalating, because wow this new demigod is good with a dagger), they find her name is reyna, and they take her back to camp jupiter

jason adopts her immediately, and thus so does nico, because they're a two-in-one deal. they become an iconic trio immediately— some people throw around rumours about love triangles between them, but none of them are ever the same. some say nico and jason argue over reyna's love, some say nico and reyna are fighting for jason's, some say jason and reyna are fighting for nico's.

reyna gets phantom crushes on both of them, mostly out of feeling like she needed to have a crush on them. they're the two people she loves most in the world, so it felt like proper procedure. it fades fast once she realizes they're very clearly in love with each other. she doesn't say anything about it, wanting them to realize on their own. she just hopes it's soon.

by the time nico comes back to camp with a curly-haired daughter of pluto, he's already told jason and reyna of who bianca was. he doesn't answer their looks of concerns for a long time. (but they fucking love hazel. new adoptee)

nico comes back from the war with kronos to be told jason lead the roman army and defeated krios by himself. he flips his shit.

(but he still congratulates jason on the praetorship by taking him on a small trip to gold coast, australia. after battling a monster in public, they appear in the news for allegedly fighting six feral red kangaroos in the street)

jason is diagnosed with ptsd soon after the war. nico finds that he can't bring himself to leave, not when he's one of the only people who know how to calm jason down from a panic attack. he can't leave him, not when jason has never left him.

one of the ways his ptsd manifests is through night terrors. and he doesn't want to ask for help. he's always telling people "there's no shame in asking for help" or "you can ask for help when you need it, we won't judge". yet he can't bring himself to follow his own advice. it's different for him, he often thinks. it's just different.

one day, he gets an especially bad one. it's so bad he almost can't breathe, and it takes him nearly two and a half hours until he's even able to move. when he can feel his legs again, he walks to nico's private quarters.

jason doesn't even have to say anything, and nico is pulling him inside and settling him in his white sheets. the same ones they bought together when they were little, relocated after they'd both moved from barrack bunks.

they don't say anything, but jason quietly asks if nico will hold him. there's something unreadable in his dark brown eyes, but he says yes with such certainty that jason knows he means it.

a few weeks later, jason wakes up in the back of a school bus, holding a pretty girl's hand but not knowing her name. the only thing he remembers is the name nico di angelo.

[butchedyke]

how was cats. i need a FULL movie review

oh man. okay. i’m going to start by saying it was, to put it lightly, really bad. between the animation and jennifer hudson’s snot and jason derulo’s accent it was, from start to end, absolute garbage! i haven’t seen the stage musical so i don’t know how it compares but the entire time i was thinking “wow this would be so much better onstage” while my brain was gradually obliterated by whatever the fuck was happening onscreen.

stand-out moments:

jason derulo really did almost suck some toes. i also could not understand a single word he sang and i looked up videos of the rum tum tugger to see if that was just the character but no, it was just him. i don’t think he has an acting career ahead of him.

the cockroaches with faces were just as bad as everyone’s been saying

rebel wilson unzipped her skin twice with no explanation. the second time was a vital plot point.

she just unzipped her skin and there was more skin plus some clothes underneath and that almost made me start crying

what DID make me start crying was naked idris elba, which i’ve been thinking about nonstop for the past 3 hours

dude was completely naked i really thought i was gonna see idris elba dick for a few horrifying seconds

the entire cinema reacted. people were laughing. people were crying, multiple people loudly said “what the fuck”

none of the other cats’ fur was the same colour as their skin, and none of their bodies were so tightly contoured that you could see their actual body. unfortunately, idris elba did not get to experience this dignity.

this was the point where i actually started crying and i don’t think i’ve fully stopped.

i think enough has been said about the cat-human abominations against god but somehow that wasn’t the only animation crime

the cgi outside of the cat-human hybrids was terrible! during bustopher jones some cats pour some wine in james corden’s mouth and it didn’t even look vaguely realistic. victoria does some really impressive ballet (big kudos to francesca hayward!) but she does pointe and rather than just let her have ballet shoes for the scene, like they did with the random hip hop cats, they cgi-ed feet onto her which was done so poorly that it didn’t even look like she was touching the ground for half of it. ears clipped through hats. tails clipped through arms. there was better cgi in spy kids.

speaking of limbs, the hands. the feet were jarring enough, they had human feet with human toes but they were at least appropriately coloured, but they just straight up had their human hands.

there were multiple serious scenes with jennifer hudson that i couldn’t take seriously because she was just covered in snot thanks to crying every time she was onscreen

the alternating between cat attributes and human attributes was really disturbing. they had human hands but ian mckellen licked water out of a bowl. they alternated between walking on two and four legs but at one point jennifer hudson just dropped to the ground and crawled away like a baby. i thought judi dench was about to kiss mr mistoffelees at one point

some plot points are just never explained like. at all. i went in knowing a little bit about the plot but i didn’t know the cats could do magic and it’s never explained!

sometimes idris elba just turns cats into dust! mr mistoffelees makes shit float! idris elba teleports! he’s naked and teleporting and it’s never actually explained!

judi dench sings at the camera for like 5 minutes at the end while three of the other cats react to what she’s saying and it activated my fight or flight response. i couldn’t hold eye contact

i don’t know why DAME judi dench and SIR ian mckellen did this to themselves. idris elba too. i have too much respect for them and i can’t reconcile that in my brain

despite being a main character, munkustrap’s name is not mentioned once and it wasn’t until i was looking into the stage musical to see if i was right and it’s better that i found out what his name was. before that i was just calling him “the MAIN CHARACTER without a NAME” to my girlfriend, who also saw it with me

the people sitting in front of us were very clearly experiencing the same emotions that we were

people clapped when it finished, and not in a good way. everyone around us was either in a state of shock or loudly asking what the fuck that was and why it was so bad

jennifer hudson being sent away in an unexplained hot air balloon to go perish in the sun is exactly how i felt at the end of the film

all of that being said, it wasn’t entirely horrid. it doesn’t translate well at all from stage to screen and making it like a regular hollywood film rather than a pro-shot type thing was bound to go poorly from the start because it doesn’t seem like the sort of musical you can do that with, unlike stuff like les mis or hairspray.

there were a handful of scenes that were okay onscreen:

mungojerrie and rumpleteazer, other than the bit with the cutlery from the trailer, was fun and really well performed

 skimbleshanks’ song absolutely slapped and the dancing was impressive even if it suffered from cgi once again. also skimbleshanks was like. bizarrely sexy. and once again that was a tom hooper choice and not from the original musical so i have no clue where that came from

mr mistoffelees was good! he was by far the least bad looking of the characters and his song was entertaining!

the non-stunt cast performers were impressive and i’m sad they wasted their talents in this piece of shit film

all in all i don’t think i could watch it again without getting very, very drunk. i personally am banning tom hooper from making any more musical movies until he repents for his sins. thanks for coming to my ted talk.