#i can't in good conscience force this upon anyone else

[honorhearted]

“I despise you. You ought to consider yourself lucky that I love and respect my father or else I would destroy you right here."

Oh, she was a delight. A hellcat in sheep's clothing, yet every bit as harmless as an errant housefly. Did she truly think she was threatening, when she hardly stood up to his chest?

"What did I tell you about foreplay? Stop teasing me, Miss Dunster," Benjamin warned, barely fighting off a laugh. The angrier she became, the larger his grin grew. He didn't realize that his espionage could be fun, too.

Emma's hands returned to her hips. “Yes, you’ve expressed how useful you could be but you have yet to prove it. I can’t imagine someone like you being useful to me in any meaningful way, so forgive me for not believing your claims. Especially for as long as you remain on both feet."

Benjamin hummed, tonguing the corner of his mouth in thought. "Unfortunately, Miss Dunster, I cannot in good conscience demonstrate my worth here amongst prying eyes. The scandal wouldn't behoove either of us, were I to suddenly kneel at your feet -- especially since I can guarantee that you would no longer be standing upon yours."

Despite the bold claim, his earlier admission seemed to give the proper effect. Emma looked positively horrified, her eyes wide and wild, and her cheeks properly pale.

Teeth gritting, she warned, “I may remind you that you have not proposed yet, sir, and even if you had, I would not accept. Harlots might find you and your payments irresistible but I, for one, cannot stand to be around you. There’s not enough money in the world to make me marry you."

"Well then, I suppose it's quite fortunate that I don't intend to pay you a single cent," Benjamin replied. "The only person I truly need to convince is your father. And given his pleasure with our arrangement, I don't imagine that'll be too difficult. I can be very convincing."

Her request to not be perceived nearly made him grin. Emma was so bloody dramatic. Was it truly any wonder she was still unmarried? Lovely though she was, spinsterhood was clearly nipping at her heels from miles away.

"Oh, come now," he admonished. "You can't tell me anyone else is interested in marrying you. Why not just cut your losses and accept when someone is finally, finally willing to give you a chance? After all..." He shrugged. "I doubt very few are capable of handling that tongue of yours."

Emma's temper swelled. “I am not blushing," she seethed. "And even if I was it is not because of you. It’ll take far more than a pretty face to make me swoon. Especially when your mere presence is all but nauseating."

Benjamin chuckled. "Let the record show that you've called me 'pretty' on this night at least three times. You're not very good at dissuading me..." Nor was she very good at acting. At least he had performed several plays at Yale, all of which were now aiding in his ridiculous (if not wholly entertaining) ruse.

Emma's tone turned dangerously calm despite the stormy quality of her eyes. She threatened avoidance -- probably wise, given their not-so-veiled threats -- and it wasn't until she gave her final warning that he finally laughed, incredulous.

"I have never taken what isn't offered to me, and I don't intend to start now," Benjamin rebuffed. "This is a business transaction, Miss Dunster, not one of your silly little feminine fantasies, so I wholly intend to 'keep my hands to myself.' Just as no one would ever pay you to accept my proposal, no one could ever pay me to slip into your chambers for a dalliance." He huffed. "You're so frigid that I'd probably freeze my pego right off."

All right, perhaps this was finally the quip to push things too far... Despite the sneer he forced himself to wear, Benjamin could feel his own head reeling at such ribald cruelty.

“At least you admit that those who engage with you are victims." His comment about her tongue make her seethe and it takes every ounce of strength she has not to reach up and slap him. She was tempted to spit on him, to show him just how vile her mouth could be, but she held herself back. There were too many eyes and ears around for her to comfortably assault him.

“I despise you. You ought to consider yourself lucky that I love and respect my father or else I would destroy you right here." How exactly she would go about such destruction, she didn't know, but Emma didn't care. She would use her teeth, nails, fists... Anything she could to make him regret speaking to her in such a manner. But such actions could only unfold in her mind, lest she wish to make a fool of herself.

“Yes, you’ve expressed how useful you could be but you have yet to prove it. I can’t imagine someone like you being useful to me in any meaningful way, so forgive me for not believing your claims. Especially for as long as you remain on both feet." Tilting her head to the side, she gave him an appraising look. There wasn't a single useful thing she could imagine him doing for her, other than making her upset-- which he did seem rather skilled at, if she had to give him any credit.

“A fortnight?” She paled, her mouth going dry. Surely he was bluffing. Her father wouldn't invite someone like him to spend a fortnight beneath their roof. Would he? Unless his business truly was as plentiful as he claimed, there would be no logical reason to invite him to stay with the Dunster family. Unless he had already asked her father for something in return. Before she could give the thought proper heed, Emma leapt onto the tail end of his sentence. "I tried to gauge how much he liked you, if you do remember. But you cast such notions aside in favor of talking down to me. You cannot dare to use my ignorance against me when it was your doing."

It seems we will be seeing quite a bit of each other, Miss Dunster, and by the end of my stint, perhaps you'll finally wish to accept my proposal. Her stomach roiled, the thought of sharing a roof with him for two weeks enough to make her feel ill. It didn't matter if he was a good business partner for the Dunster family, couldn't her father see how much of a scoundrel he was? His business offers surely weren't bountiful enough to make marriage a profitable arrangement, and yet Emma couldn't be so sure of anything.

“I may remind you that you have not proposed yet, sir, and even if you had, I would not accept. Harlots might find you and your payments irresistible but I, for one, cannot stand to be around you. There’s not enough money in the world to make me marry you."

I didn't take you for a romantic, Miss Dunster. Her eyes narrowed again, watching him with such intense scrutiny that her eyes nearly burned blue beneath the candlelight.

“I would prefer if you did not 'take me' as anything, Mister Bolton. I would much rather not be perceived by you at all. But if you must know, yes, I confess that I am a romantic, which is another reason why I could never have interest in you. You clearly know nothing of romance or winning a lady’s heart without employing threats." As he spoke of her blushing cheeks, Emma only tensed further. “I am not blushing. And even if I was it is not because of you. It’ll take far more than a pretty face to make me swoon. Especially when your mere presence is all but nauseating."

Emma took a deep breath, trying to will herself into a calmer state. If she let herself lose control to annoyance, it would mean she'd allowed him to win. She may not have been the most skilled in battle, but she refused to lose so easily to a man like him. And if she were truly expected to spend the next fortnight in his presence, she would need to maintain her composure for as long as she could.

“If what you say is true," She began, her voice taking on a renewed tone of patience. "Then I fully intend to avoid you at all costs for the duration of your stay. I will attempt to be civil for my father’s sake, but I swear to you, if you try anything I will make sure to skip the wedding and bedding, and jump straight to beheading you. And if I find that you are not the type of man to keep his hands to himself, my father will be the first to know."

[weasleychick32]

Supernatural Survey

I was tagged by @rosewhipped22 like uhh a month a go. Yeah for eventual responses!

1. What season did you start watching Supernatural? Uhhh 8? Maybe 9? I don’t remember lol

2. Who was the first character you fell in love with? Cas. Cas was actually the reason I started watching the show in the first place. I’ve never been a fan of scary movies so I thought I was going to have to suffer through the first three seasons before I got to the good stuff, but I was pleasantly surprised.

3. Who was a character that you hated at first but grew to love?: Dean? *ducks for cover* I wouldn’t say hate but I spent a whole episode and a half wondering what y’all saw in him. Needless to say, I get it now ;)

4. Which character would you most want to be in a long-term relationship with? None? Uh if I had to pick maybe Bobby? Friendships count as relationships, right? We’d have the best bro-ship in the universe where he does whatever he wants and I do whatever I want. Easy as pie.

5. If you could go on a date with just one character, which one would you choose?: *long drawn out sigh*  

6. What would you do on that date? *obnoxiously long drawn out sigh*

7. Which character would you most want to be like?: Jody. That’s lady’s got her shit together.

8. Which character would you most want to see brought back from the dead?: Oh jeez what a question. I gotta go with Charlie though (sorry everyone else)

9. Which character would you most like to punch?: Literally every angel that ever took advantage of Cas’s trust (looking at you meta-douche)

10. Who is your absolute favorite character?: Castiel

11. Which “Big Bad” do you think was the worst?: I was leaning towards early Lucifer, but honestly, I think it was the angels who fought to make the apocalypse happen. Douchebags.

12. Which character are you most like?: Dean 

13. What death hit you the hardest? Bobby - 4 sure. Ever since I’ve just been pretty numb to all the deaths. Even Charlie’s was like yeah okay now you’re just being dicks. She’ll live forever in fanfiction. 14. What season finale hit you the hardest?: I dunno. 4 or 5 maybe. Swan Song is still my all-time fav and I still get choked up hearing Rob’s voice-over so probz5.

15. What are your ten all-time favorite episodes?: Oh ha--Ten?? You think I can pick TEN??? HA! Spoiler Alert: I suck at picking favorites. But for proprieties sake, let’s go with Swan Song, Windego, and Baby and p much all the ones involving Claire basically.

16. What’s been your favorite season?: *8 or 5

17. Who is your favorite angel? Cas (bobviously)

18. Who is your favorite demon? Meg 2.0

19. Who’s your favorite evil character? Abbaddon. She was chaotic evil and that was super scary

20. Do you have any Supernatural ships?: It’s not a ship if they’re actually soulmates (destiel). And then I whore Sam around between Jess, Gabriel, Eileen, and Ruby depnding on the context. What can I say? He’s a lover.

21. Who’s your favorite supporting actor?: Osric maybe? So many good options...

22. What’s your favorite quote from the show?: "Freedom is a length of rope and God wants you to hang yourself with it.”

23. If you could cast one famous actor in an episode of SPN, who would you choose? Matthew Gray Gubler (also the entire s5(ish) Criminal Minds team OR NO WAIT! Dylan O’Brien! Actin’ shady, keeping his wolfy friends safe.

24. If you could write your own episode, what kind of creatures would you like to see included?: An angel vs. Coffee Maker battle royale (Early morning Cas, if that wasn’t clear)

25. Who’s your favorite girl that Dean’s hooked up with?: Of the women Dean has hooked up with, Anna is my fav character.

26. Who’s your favorite girl that Sam’s hooked up with?: Of the women Sam has hooked up with, Ruby is my fav character.

27. What are some of your favorite convention moments?: God I don’t think I can pinpoint it to anything specific. All I know is that I can’t casually listen to the videos at work because I have almost died trying not to laugh.

28. If you were going to guest star (or be a recurring guest star) on SPN, how would you want your character to be described?: Loner hunter woman, kinda awkward, but not Cas-level awkward. Drives around in her van taking care of little cases that the big time hunters tend to over-look. “Most hunters (i.e. Winchesters and Co) wear boots. Boots are good, sturdy footwear designed for standing your ground and to protect your feet from the inevitable shrapnel that comes with fighting baddies and refusing to back down no matter the cost. Me? I opt for running shoes. Because I wanna live.”

29. What do you hope to see in the next season?: So many... I want a destiel kiss, Cas and Mary to become besties, Sam and Dean to be the bestest bros to ever bro,and the supernatural world outed to the general public.

30. - 40. If you had to choose…

Bobby or John?: Bobby, no contest

Bela or Ruby? Ruby

Jess or Madison?: Jess

Jo or Lisa?: Jo

Charlie or Kevin? How dare you ask this of me. I refuse to answer.

Balthazar or Ash?: Ash

Cas or Crowley? Cas

Ben or Claire? Claire

Jody or Donna? Dumb question. BOTH obviously!

Sam or Dean?: Trick question! You can’t have one with out the other.....I’m not prepared for where that answer may take me so I’m just gonna ignore it

[adsosfraser]

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Five

Read on AO3

Claire sat nursing her glass of expensive cognac. Neither of them initiated a conversation, preferring silence to the inevitable argument that would ensue. 

 It was Christmas Eve when she returned. Little over a month and a half in that soul leeching ward. Frank had decorated the house with holly, and ivy, and even some sprigs of mistletoe in an attempt for some normalcy. 

 “Claire, I’m sorry for what they did to you. I was angry at you. You not only chose to leave me once but twice over. You’d rather die than feel my touch. I wanted to feel anything but utter despair. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to return you home.” She offered no response. 

“Do you have any idea just how difficult these last few months- past few years have been for me Claire? How utterly exhausting it has been to deal with your loss and then now this? I don’t wish to fight you on any of this. Let us have a civilised conversation please.”  

 “How hard it’s been for you!” Her mouth hung open in shock. “You think these past few months have just been a fucking picnic for me!” She stood in her anger and seethed at the fireplace, back turned from her husband. 

 “Of course not, but did you ever stop to consider how I’ve felt about anything?” 

 “Did you ever consider my feelings when you were sticking your cock into one of your students?! God, did you give me one of their diseases?” Shock plastered over his face. “Oh don’t act so surprised, I’ve smelt the perfume and all those long nights at your ‘office’.”

 “Claire, be reasonable. You’ve only let me touch you once, and that was before I was intimate with anyone else. Not all of us are such mendacious sluts.” 

 “Oh and I’m sure you were an exemplary student of abstinence while I was ‘missing’, for fuck’s sake even during the war, because clearly me being the ‘mendacious slut’ that I am I wasn’t entirely faithful either!” 

 “I don’t wish to fight you anymore Claire, something has recently come upon my knowledge during my research, and it affects you. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the decanter on the side table and poured a glass for her.

 “It pains me to see you like this Claire. I can’t in good conscience force you to stay here and slip further and further away from me every day” Frank sucked in a breath and smoothed his hands over his thighs. “It angered me to see that you’d rather die... than be with me. That you chose his memory over me, a living, breathing human being, and I couldn’t even be sure he was real. Still can't. Can you not see Claire why it took me a while to finally decide upon your release?”

 The hazy buzz that normally surrounded her mind now had started to fade, if only slightly. Claire squinted at Frank and nodded. 

 He paused, calculating his next words. 

 “I’ve done some research with the Reverend. We’ve been in communication since you’ve told me what happened.”

 Frank adjusted his collar. He stared at the stack of papers to his right on the desk.

 “And well we certainly found evidence of your presence in the past, but there are other things.”

 Claire stared straight through him, she didn’t need to worry about her glass face showing something wrong. She felt nothing. This confirmation made no difference for the hell she had been through. The numb feeling had taken a while to crawl over her body the past few months and she welcomed it. It felt better than the suffocating dread and grief she originally felt.

 “I know I must let you go. Go to him I mean. It’s the least I can do for the pain I’ve inadvertently caused you, Claire. Please forgive me. It’s unbearable for me to live to see you this way, even if the alternative is to send you back.”

 “He’s dead, Frank. They all are.” Her lips thinned into a line. “I have nothing to live for.” 

 She cringed at her last choice of words. She didn’t want to cause him unnecessary suffering. But she was too tired to lie, to protect him from such verbal blows.

 “But Claire. He survived.” His white knuckles wrapped tightly around the armrest of the leather chair and he flexed his jaw. “This man, this Red Jamie was exonerated of his crimes, with a pardon from King George II himself. And his lands returned in reparation.” 

 “How-how can you tell me this? You know what I- God what you put me through. Why would you give me this hope?” 

 “I’ve also found one Alexander Malcolm and his,” he gulped, “wife Elizabeth Malcolm. But Claire, this is your hand on the document. A christening, where Elizabeth, where you’re stated as godmother in a church in Broch Mordha. But then there’s also this purchase of a croft on the Isle of Lewis, with the same signature as Alexander Malcolm.”

 “Please, Claire, allow me to make amends for whatever part I’ve caused in your suffering. If there’s some piece, some knowledge I can give you, it would ease my mind considerably. I don’t wish for you to waste away before my eyes, for the rest of our days in resentment.” His lips tightened into a thin line. “I met someone while you were away. The new assistant under me at Harvard. I think,” he paused, “I think I love her as you love your Jamie. Let us divorce and I’ll give you what funds I have.” 

 “You’re just- okay with that?” 

 “Claire, you haven’t been my wife in years, not really.” 

 “So that’s just it? I offered divorce when I returned, and finally accept when you’ve damaged me. My mind, my soul!” He winced at the sight of circled bits of skin on her temples. 

 “And I am regrettably sorry, darling.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I know this is what you’ve wanted ever since you’ve returned. Please, let me make this easy on you. I have the banking number for what covers the divorce settlement. It should be enough to purchase a flight to London, and then I know the inheritance from your parents and uncle should help you on your way to Inverness.” He slid over a paper card to her, detailing the whereabouts of the money he was offering her. She kept her arms crossed tightly over her sternum, not wishing to take any charity from him.  

 “There's another thing. Your son, the name they said you called out in your sleep every night. I have this death certificate of one Fergus Claudel Fraser. Marked March in the year of our lord Seventeen Forty-Five.” Tears sprang in her dry eyes at the mention of him. He pulled out a sheet from the pile of papers he collected and shoved it over to her side of the table. 

 “Why are you doing this Frank?” She couldn’t bear this physical proof that she had left her son to die without her. 

 “Here is one Fergus Malcolm, on the Isle of Lewis, a year after his ‘death’ and you're on this too. Or rather your alter ego one Elizabeth Beauchamp Malcolm. If nothing else, will you not live for him? Even if the proof of him amounts to nothing, that he really did die at Culloden? Please, take the money, and the papers. I’m hoping it can ease my conscience from all the torture you’ve endured.” 

 The last thing Claire wanted to do was ease Frank’s ego. She wanted him to suffer. But here was a lifeline, a way out and back to her family. She would see Fergus again if fate allowed. Her mind would never allow her to comprehend the other piece of hope before her. The one sure thing she knew was Fergus, he had been whole and alive the last she saw him. And there was something urging her to him. A panicked urgency. Her mind flashed to the nights after her therapies, when his presence in her dreams was almost so real she could feel his touch after she woke. She quickly signed the paper he offered. Claire Elizabeth Fraser. The wet ink shined against the thick paper. His suffering would have to wait. Her fingers began to twist the gold band on her finger but Frank stopped her. 

 “No, keep it. It will have value when you… return. The papers will be sorted by the time you’re gone, and we’ll both be free.” He swallowed sharply. “Know this Claire. I still love you, and I always will.” 

 He had a funny way of showing it, Claire thought. She didn’t dignify his statement with a response. She left him in the living room to pack, and as the sun rose the next morning her bed and dresser were empty. 

 Frank set aside some money for the divorce settlement into Claire’s own account. She withdrew the three hundred pounds without a second thought, and purchased a ticket to London. It barely covered the cost of a transatlantic flight, which was more of a luxury than anything, but she could afford to spend money, not time. A ship between would have lasted weeks, not hours. She was left with little over fifty pounds to find her way to Inverness. The only things she carried with her were her pearls, sgian dubh, the ring without its ruby stone, the copious amount of papers from Frank’s research, her old botany pocketbook, and a change of clothes, all packed into one small suitcase. Her things barely fit half the space inside it. The gold band hung around her neck on a chain now, instead of resting comfortably on her left ring finger. It clanged against the skin between her breasts with every sway of her steps. It was decided over a very pricey international phone call, she would go see Mrs. Graham.

[scorpionyx9621]

I Hope Hopeless Changes Over Time: A Red Hood and Batman Fic

*Source of the image I found off of Pintrest. I tried to find the original artist but the link on Pintrest led to a dead Tumblr account. If anyone wants to find/point out the account to me so I can give proper credit to the artist please please do.*

I wanted to make a fic based on an ask I did from the lovely @dilfbatman about Jason and Bruce. I hope people enjoy this mini-fic that I've expanded upon.

TW: Blood, Physical Assault, Suicide Ideation, Swearing. Bruce being a shitty father but trying. Jason having demons 

3.75K words. 

Bruce was uneasy about Jason staying over at the Wayne Mansion. Even with other members of the family around. Jason has done so much wrong and has hurt so many people. However, at the end of the day, Jason still is his son. So when he gets a call from Jason in a hushed voice asking Bruce to stay the night. He hesitated for a second, but acquiesced, Jason was nothing if not independent, so to be asking Bruce outright to stay at the Wayne Manor meant something was wrong.

"Master Jason wouldn't reach out to any of us unless something was gravely wrong, Master Wayne." Alfred had reassured Bruce, who was staring absentmindedly at the glass case which housed Jason's old Robin costume. The costume that Jason had died in. Bruce always tried to repress the memory of holding his son's cold, lifeless body. The pain he felt from losing his parents burned in his heart as an everlasting stab wound. But the pain from losing Jason, his son, it was too much to bare.

"I'd be welcoming to Master Jason, but keep your distance. Master Damian is spending the night at Jon Kent's house, Master Richard is in Blüdhaven, and Master Timothy is with the Teen Titans tonight. I'll rest assured Jason doesn't try anything to harm you. But don't try to encourage a confrontation." Alfred explained. He always seemed to understand Jason to a tee after he came back to life.

"I don't know how you do it Alfred, you can read the boy like a book." Bruce had retorted. Cocking a half-smile to the man who raised him since his parents died.

"Master Wayne, Master Jason wears his heart on his sleeve. He always has. And one of the reasons why you two fight constantly is because, for as terrific as a detective you are, you are horrifically inept in reading the emotions of your children." Alfred had stated, those words bit Bruce. He wasn't expecting such sharp words from Alfred. "We failed Master Jason. And he's hurt, he's been hurt for years because of it. However he keeps choosing to come back and try and trust again. We needn't come at him with accusations of ulterior motives, but we should be supportive." Alfred stated.

"But cognizant of what Jason is capable of." Bruce added back. Jason may need help, but he's still dangerous. He has tried to kill Bruce and the rest of the Robins multiple times. He wants to trust Jason and warm up to him again. But the man who wears the Red Hood and stalks the streets of Gotham killing those he deems criminals is not his son anymore.

Alfred and Bruce greeted Jason as he walked in the large double doors of the Wayne Manor. The first thing Bruce noticed was the dark circles under Jason's eyes. It seemed as if the man hadn't slept in days. Jason was wearing sweatpants and a fitted black wife beater, accentuating his muscles. Jason would have looked more intimidating had his body language not suggested he was as disheveled as he was, physically and mentally.

"Thanks Alfred." Jason had said meekly towards the butler. He took one step into the mansion and looked at Bruce. Bruce noticed as soon as Jason's eyes met his, his tired irises contorted into anger. His lips pursed downwards but Jason chose not to say anything. Instead just walking past Bruce pretending not to acknowledge him.

"Master Jason, you will be staying in the guest suite on the main floor. I've already prepped everything for your arrival. Please make yourself at home." Alfred had said. Jason just shook is head as he headed towards the hallway leading the guest suite. Bruce didn't notice it immediately but the stench Jason had emitted stung in the air. It smelled like stale liqour and body oder. It seems Jason hadn't bathed in days. Bruce had wanted to say something but chose not to.

The evening went by quietly enough. Jason had taken a shower and changed into another fitted wife beater but still sported a tired energy about him. Alfred had put together a beef pot roast for dinner with red potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery over garlic mashed potatoes. A favorite dish of Jason's. The three of them ate quietly as Bruce continued to size up his son. He was conflicted. At one point he saw the man who blew up the head of a Gotham security force member with a torture decide he had created. On the other hand, he saw the boy who would beg for Bruce to buy him more books after he finished the maximum amount a library card would allow for a week in the span of 3 days. The son who told him being Robin gave him magic.

The dinner ended as it began. With awkward silence and the father-son duo eyeing each other. One with cautious trepidation and the other with abject hate. Bruce had decided not to go on patrol tonight as he felt he needed to be at the manor should anything happen while Jason was here. An uneasy sense of dread built over Bruce as he had said good night to Jason as the two passed by each other in the halls. Jason simply spat 'Bitch' at Bruce and walked into the bedroom. Bruce had been bad with other people's emotions, but something didn't sit right with the way Jason was carrying himself. He had decided to stay up tonight regardless. A sense came over him after being sworn at by Jason. A sense he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt as though his son needed help.

————————————————————

"You're a monster"

"Jason is a murderer"

"Stay away from Jason, he'll kill you."

"No one wants you around, Todd"

"You're just a good guy trying to be bad"

"This is the kid you had to replace me with as Robin? Bruce he's pathetic."

"I can't believe my daughter wasted the Lazarus Pit on a miserable failure like you."

"Maybe I'd be better off dead"

Jason tossed and turned. It's been days. He couldn't get the voices out of his head. Those whispery, moany voices that taunted and tormented him. He knew it was a result of the Lazarus Pit. Ever since Roy died and everyone left him the voices started taunting him again. He tried everything he could to get the voices to stop. He drank, he read, he worked out, he did everything he could. The only way the voices became quiet were when he was beating the ever-loving shit out of some criminals. This was not the mindset Jason had wanted. He wanted to go back to being supported by Bruce, the man who betrayed him. He knew that Bruce was weak. He couldn’t kill the Joker because of his weakness. 

Jason got up and walked over to the connecting bathroom to the suite that he was staying in. He went to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. Against his better judgement, Jason looked up to the figure he saw in the mirror. He took note of his jawline, his face, his green eyes, his muscles.. but one thing that caught his eye was the fucking skunk streak of hair at the top of his head. The physical reminder of his dip in the Lazarus Pit. He had just re-dyed the spot not two days ago and it already came back. He did everything he could to try to hide the streak. It’s what he hated most about his new body. The pit wiped away all of the scars he had on his body. And any new fresh scar or wound would just fade in a matter of moments due to the effects of the pit. The only thing that ever stayed was that damned streak. 

Jason had nothing but disgust and contempt for the man he saw in the mirror, which, ironically, was himself. 

“You’re just using the sarcasm to hide your hatred.” 

“It’s your fault that everyone hates you.” 

“Killing the sick of the masses to save those who are weak is your calling” 

“Those reptiles deserve to die” 

“I don’t want to kill unless I don’t have to.. I don’t want people to hate me..” Jason tried reassuring himself. The voices in his head kept getting louder and louder. “I want Bruce and everyone to love me again....” He continued to try to re-assure himself. It was a false sense of hope as always. His mind soon wandered to a moment where he was on top of Dick in a fight. Confronting his older sibling and reciting a quote he had heard from a Japanese philosopher and optimist as he had the barrel of a gun placed against his older brother’s temple. 

“Do you know what the most convenient phrase in the world is, Dickie? It’s ‘I’m sorry.’ Anyone who hears that is obligated to forgive, no matter how hurt or angry they might be... There's no more disgusting phrase in all the world. It's used to displace your suffering unto others so you can escape your sins... The moment you employ it, your suffering becomes the other person's. A thing can be unforgivable, but oh, if they apologize... I say there's no reason to accept that suffering. You don't have to forgive them. Cast aside the mask of your conscience.“ 

“Stop this. Please stop this.” Jason had begged aimlessly into the air. He didn’t want to live like this anymore. He didn’t want to live, period. He just wanted all of this to end. He had caused so much pain and so much suffering to the people of Gotham all so he could attempt to hurt Bruce. But those words kept repeating in his head. He knew he had to stop this. He needed help, he wanted to go to Bruce and explain what was going on but Bruce would just have him institutionalized. His murderer of a son starts hearing voices in his head? A one way ticket to a padded room. 

Jason suddenly stared back into the mirror and saw something he detested. The green eyes that stared into his soul. The one he hated more than anything else. Was himself. This thing was staring him in the face mocking him, and he wanted it gone. 

“Do it Jason.” the voice had beckoned from the mirror. “Kill them all. Slit Damian’s throat and watch the fucker bleed. Bash Tim’s stupid face into the concrete until there’s nothing but mush. Rip Dick limb from fucking limb. Watch Bruce as you choke the last bit of life from his eyes. I promise all the pain will go away once all of this is done.” the voice sounded almost sweet as it promised to do all of this. Jason just retched as he saw the green eyed monster promising poison to him. He felt his vision fade to black. 

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

STOP IT. SHUT. UP. 

*CRASH* 

Bruce had jumped up from the chair he was sitting on in the library, the voice came from the suite that Jason was staying in. Bruce didn’t have time to think. He just ran towards the noise. He threw the door to the suite open and ran to the bathroom. There he saw Jason in front of a heavily cracked mirror. Jason was hyperventilating and he saw blood oozing from Jason’s fist which was pressed against the mirror. Bruce saw from the reflection that Jason had split open the left side of his lip seemingly from a shard of glass. It wasn’t long before Jason glanced up at the imposing shadow in the mirror and noticed Bruce’s presence. 

“YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BRUCE.” Jason had shouted at his reflection. Jason was shaking. Bruce had wanted to assess the injury that Jason gave himself. But he knew he was cornering a scared animal if he pressed any farther forward. Bruce stood their frozen. Pondering between trying to press forward upon a killer, or to check up on his son. 

“Jason, I just...” Bruce was cut off by another scream as Jason turned around. 

“IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU FUCKING STAND YOU PIECE OF SHIT.” Bruce finally got the cue. The hitch in Jason’s voice. This is the same hitch his voice made when he was a kid and was angry at Bruce. Alfred was right. This is his son. And right now Bruce needed not to be the Batman approaching the Red Hood. He needed to be Bruce, to help his son. 

Bruce walked forward to Jason, still shaking as blood oozed from the gashes of glass on his fist. Bruce decided against everything in his gut telling him to stop this criminal. This monster who killed for sport and to prove a point. He needed to help Jason, his son. 

Bruce was knocked back by a fist to his chest. Glass imbedded itself into Bruce as he felt the sting of their shards. Jason was right, he was going to hurt Bruce if he approached. Oracle was right, Jason had been abusing venom. The quick gain in muscle mass was proof enough but the stinging pain in Bruce’s chest also proved that hypothesis. Jason barred his teeth as his eyes displayed a seething hatred. Bruce would have been frightened on any other day. Today, Bruce felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Bruce collected himself and got up to approach Jason again. 

“I TOLD YOU I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BRUCE. I FUCKING HATE YOUR GUTS. I WANT YOU TO DIE. I WANT ALL OF US TO JUST FUCKING DIE.” Jason screamed even louder this time. A hot stream of tears worked their way down Jason’s cheeks. Bruce no longer saw a rage-induced monster but the boy who took a tire iron to his gut on the streets of Gotham. The boy who would was thrilled at every opportunity he got to show Bruce the A’s on every test he got in school. This was his baby boy who needed his help. 

“Jason Peter Todd that’s enough.” Bruce said firmly, but not harshly. Jason stared directly into his eyes. “Jason. I want you to listen to me.” 

“Go to hell you motherfucker.” those words which escaped Jason were laced with poison. Bruce didn’t waver. 

“You can punch me as much as you want Jason and I’ll deserve all of it.” Bruce came closer to Jason. Jason proceeded to physically make himself smaller. Like a scared animal. Bruce remember what he did to Jason after he had seemingly killed The Penguin. How he beat Jason to within an inch of his life. His heart plummeted to his stomach as he saw Jason cower like a scared dog over his approach. 

“What are you going to do Bruce, beat me to a fucking pulp again? You hate me more than you hate the fucking Joker, don’t you?” Jason asked. Bruce truly saw the fear in those green eyes. He had to take a moment and realized just what he was doing. He unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders as he approached Jason. This time he was back within striking range of his son. 

“Jason. I failed you. I have been failing you for the past 10 years since your death. I have failed this city and this family in providing the protection it needs. I couldn’t kill The Joker because I’m weak.” Bruce sucked at emotions and emoting. But Bruce hadn’t felt this shaky and wavering since the day he lost Jason. His son needed to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth. “Jason I never hated you. I hated the actions you have taken against the people of this city. But I’ve come to realize that the hatred and contempt I’ve held is because you do what I can’t do.” 

“Oh so now you’re coming over to apologize? I don’t owe you shit after what you’ve done to me.” Jason had stated. He may have been acting like a pinned animal. But his mouth will never not cut like knives. 

“Jason, when we had fought in the abandoned apartment. And you had the Joker with you. You had tried to shoot me after I had turned away from you.” Bruce said. Inching ever closer to Jason while trying not to be imposing. “In that moment, I threw the batarang because I knew you were going to retaliate against me. But I need you to know in that moment I turned away. I turned away because I decided I wasn’t to be the one to decide the Joker’s fate. He had taken your life and it wasn’t up to me to decide. I want nothing more than for the Joker to pay for the countless lives hes taken and ruined.” Bruce swallowed hard as he felt tears beginning to well in his eyes. “I failed you because I couldn’t kill the Joker. But in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to have my baby boy back. I wanted you back in my life. I still want you back in my life.” 

“Bullshit. Fucking BULLSHIT.” Jason spat at Bruce. The emotions were flooding out of his face. Anger, hatred, fear, but most of all sadness. Jason’s voice began wavering as he began to cry. “If you loved me why in the fuck have you never realized I’ve been trying to help the people of Gotham. Instead every time I take matters into my own hands all I meet are your fucking fists. I hate your guts Bruce. We’d all just be better off fucking dead. It’s all Hopeless. I’m hopeless.” 

Bruce took a deep breath. He tried to find his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out to his son again. “You’re absolutely right Jason. I’ll bet Gotham would be a whole lot better without me. Without the pain I have caused. And no amount of apologies will fix the pain that I have caused you. No words will ever take back the transgressions I have taken against you.” Bruce was crying this time. “But know this. You always have been my son. And I love you so much. The day I lost my parents was agony. The day I lost you, I felt like I had lost myself I felt I had died a bit inside.” Bruce choked out. “We both have done so much we regret. If I could take back all the times I hit you I would do it in a heartbeat. But no amount of sorry will take back that pain. I shouldn’t be in the position to be asking this. But I just want my son back.” Bruce swallowed. “You have every right to hate me, but I will never stop loving you. You aren’t hopeless and you never have been. You never have been a burden. You are valued by so many people. I. I love you my son. I love you Jason."

Jason’s face relaxed from a position of contempt and hatred and soon was overcome with years of pent up tears. Jason let out a hearty scream as he proceeded to weep and sob. As if a dam had broke and was threatening to engulf a town in an apocalypse. Bruce went against everything he had known and was screaming from the inside of his body and wrapped Jason in a hug. He was almost as large as Bruce himself and barely fit around his arms. But Bruce held his son and hugged him tight. Jason was crying uncontrollably. 

“I’m hearing these voices. They’re telling me I’m a monster and a killer and that I should kill all of you.” Jason shouted between sobs. “But I don’t want to. I’m so afraid Bruce. I don’t want to hurt anyone unless I have to.” 

“Just breath Jason. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Let it all out.” Bruce had solidified his resolve and worked on being there for Jason. He couldn’t run away this time. His son needed him more than ever. And Gotham be damned. He’s not making this mistake twice. He’s staying here. For Jason. 

It felt like hours before Jason had run out of tears and sobs. Jason was fading and seemed like he was about to fall asleep. The shards of glass that were imbedded in his hand seemingly prevented Jason from bleeding out. Bruce had saw Jason’s eyes glaze over as his breathing calmed. 

“Jason, I’m going to pick you up and take you to bed.” Bruce had said, asking for permission from his second son. Jason simply nodded as he starred off. He was numb now. The pain seemingly gone for the moment. Bruce lifted Jason up and was taken aback by just how heavy his son was. He truly was 225lbs just like his records showed. This wasn’t the son who hid under the cabinets when Bruce first brought Jason home. But Bruce still saw the boy as his son nonetheless. As Bruce laid Jason on the bed Alfred had approached with a first aid kit. Proceeding to begin to clean up Jason’s hand. Jason was so exhausted he barely felt any of the picking and pulling or the iodine going into his wounds. He kept his eyes fast forward on Bruce. 

“Bruce. I. I’m sorry.” Jason had said meekly. 

“Don’t apologize Jason.” Bruce had stated. He ran his hand through Jason’s hair, giving a soft massage to his scalp. “You get some sleep now. I don’t think you’ve rested in days.” 

Bruce had remembered the time he had read Jason to sleep. This time he had thought back to a poem that struck him from his phone. It was from a famous lyricist and singer. As Bruce pulled up his phone he had found the poem and recited it as Jason fell asleep. Things are far from perfect or even better. But tomorrow was going to be the first day of the rest of his and Jason’s lives. 

“They told me once, ‘there's a place where love conquers all’

A city with the streets full of milk and honey

I haven't found it yet, but I'm still searching

All I know is a hopeless place that flows with the blood of my kin

Perhaps hopeless isn't a place

Nothing but a state of mind” 

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

pHEW GOD THAT WAS LONG. I hope you all enjoyed the fic! This was my first published attempt at angst and whump and while I feel some parts are cringe. I am proud of what I made. 

Big thanks again to @dilfbatman for inspiring this fic. The inspiration of the title is the song Hopeless: by Halsey. The quote about I’m Sorry is from the character Shadow Maya Amano from Persona 2: Innocent Sin. And the poem at the end is the first part of the lyrics to the song Good Mourning by Halsey. 

[bobasheebaby]

60 Once Upon a Time Prompts

Clearly I’m trying to keep my mind busy. 60 OUAT quotes I love this time. Most of these are angsty again, but some are sweet or hopeful. I tried to pick ones that would work for most if not all books. Another long one so breaking at 15 again.

1 "When I win your heart NAME, and I will win it. It won't be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me." — Killian James Hook

2 “Magic always comes with a price." — Rumplestiltskin

3 "Maybe I don't need answers. Maybe I just need to punch you in the face." — Emma Swan

4 "True love isn't easy, but it must be fought for because once you find it, it can never be replaced." — Prince Charming

5 "Your happy ending may not be what you expect. That is what will make it so special." — Snow White

6 “I will find you. I will always find you.” — David/Prince Charming

7 “Love makes us sick, haunts our dreams, destroys our days. Love has killed more than any disease.” — Rumplestiltskin

8 “Now that I know you love me too ... “ “I don’t.” “ ... what?” “Love you. I don’t. I’m sorry. You said I would always be in your heart, and ... that is too cruel a fate. Go live your life. Live it without me, because there is no place for us together. And fill your heart with love for someone else — someone who can love you the way I never have. The way I never will.” — Prince Charming & Snow White

9 “What do you see in me?” “Evidently the same thing you see in me. A second chance.” — Evil Queen & Robin Hood

10 “I’m sorry, do ... do I know you?” “No. But you will.” — Belle & Mr Gold

11 “I do hope you like apples.” — Regina Mills

12 “What the hell are you doing here?” “Helping.” “Well, you’re too late.” “Am I?” “I thought you didn’t care about anyone but yourself.” “Maybe I just needed reminding that I could.” — Emma Swan & Killian James Hook

13 “I love you, NAME. I just wish I was strong enough to stop all this. I’m just not.” “You may not be strong enough, but maybe we are!” — Regina Mills & Emma Swan

14 “The future isn’t always what it seems. I will see you again.” — Belle

15 “Why should we trust you?” “We don’t have to. If he/she tries anything, I’ll shoot him/her in the face.” “Quite hostile, aren’t we?” “Just being clear.” — Emma Swan, David Nolan & Killian James Hook

16 “We have history together.” “That would explain the distrustful look on her face.” — Regina Mills & Mr Gold

17 “Because hero’s do what’s right ... not ... what’s easy.” — Snow White

18 “You promised me the truth, not a bloody tour.” “The truth is tricky. You have to look for it.” — Killian James Hook & Emma Swan

19 “‘Envy’ is just another word for ambition.” “Well, that’s just ... not true.” — Zelena & Evil Queen

20 “NAME, I’ve seen what life has thrown at you, and you still fight against the darkness every day. Sooner or later, your heart will find its way to happiness.” [sighs] “that doesn’t feel possible.” “But it is. I know you, and you feel things deeply, with or without it, you feel things with your whole soul. Don’t let anything hold you back.” — Snow White & Evil Queen

21 “You must leave, because despite what you hope ... I’m still a monster.” “Don’t you see? That’s exactly the reason I have to stay.” — Mr Gold & Belle

22 “Love is sacrifice.” — Mulan

23 “I know love when I see it.” — Princess Aurora

24 “I suppose this is your doing.” “Most things are.” — Regina Mills & Mr Gold

25 “That thing out there is dangerous. And NAME ... he/she left to protect you. So even if I don’t believe in his/her methods, I’m going to honor his/her wishes. I’m going to keep you safe.” — Mulan

26 “You’ve grown so much.” “You know me?” [smiles] “I’m your mother/father/grandparent/aunt/uncle.” — Anita & Red Riding Hood

27 “No matter what you might’ve done in your past, NAME sees the good in you, and ... that tells me one thing.” “What?” “That it’s in there. So if we can all see it, why can’t you?” — Belle & Ruby

28 “I’m so sorry. I know what it’s like to lose your family.” “I didn’t lose my family today. I protected it.” — Snow White & Red Riding Hood

29 “You saved me.” “No. You saved yourself. I just reminded you of what you already knew.” — Ruby & David Nolan

30 “He’s/She’s not that powerful.” “Love how you underestimate me. Adorable.” — Ursula & Rumplestiltskin

31 “NAME. Shall I move some things, make a bit of space for your rage?” — Mr Gold

32 “Two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy ... can accomplish even more.” — Mr Gold

33 “He’s/she’s a snake, NAME. You need to be careful you get into bed with.” — Regina Mills

34 “You didn’t pick a great friend in NAME, NAME. But he/she does make a superlative enemy.” [smiles] “Enjoy that!” — Regina Mills

35 “I believe you can do anything you want, as long as you can dream it.” — Dreamy (dwarf)

36 [about love] “It’s the most wonderful and amazing thing in the world. Love is hope, it fuels our dreams. And if you’re in it, you need to enjoy it. Because love doesn’t always last forever.” — Belle

37 “Now go, find your love. Find your hope. Find your dreams.” — Belle

38 “You see me as a villain, NAME. But that’s just your perception, you’re wrong. Learn your place in this town/country, or soon enough you won’t be in it.” — Regina Mills

39 “Well, if you can’t beat him/her/them ... drink.” — Sidney Glass

40 “Love makes people do foolish things.” — King Leopold

41 “I thought you’d only risk your life for love or revenge.” “One other important thing — me.” — Tinkerbell & Captain Killian James Hook

42 “There’s not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you.” “Good.” — Killian James Hook & Emma Swan

43 “Please, you couldn’t handle it.” “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” — Emma Swan & Killian James Hook

44 “There’s nothing more important than family.” — Evil Queen

45 “You were right, NAME. You don’t abandon family.” — Evil Queen

46 “How can he/she remember who you are, when he’s/she’s lost sight of who he/she is?” — Jiminy Cricket

47 “I‘ve spent far too much time looking for my husband/wife. It’s time to bring him/her home!” — David Nolan

48 “Ok, don’t take this the wrong way, but how the hell did you get here?” — Emma Swan

49 “I want justice.” “Tread carefully. It’s dangerous to confuse vengeance with justice.” — Princess Aurora & Mulan

50 “Why can’t you just listen to me?” “Why couldn’t you have trusted me?” — Mary Margaret & Emma Swan

51 “Family is everything, my dear. Losing all hope of having one — there is no greater misery.” — King George

52 “Just who are you, NAME?” “Wouldn’t you like to know.” — Killian James Hook & Emma Swan

53 “You know, there's not a ton about my father/mother that I remember that doesn't suck. But he/she used to tell me that there are no coincidences. Everything that happens, happens by design, and there's nothing we can do about it; forces greater than us conspire to make it happen. Fate, destiny, whatever you wanna called it, the point is... maybe we met for a reason. Maybe something good came from us being together.” — Neal Cassidy

54 “Well, who doesn’t love a surprise?” — Emma Swan

55 “Doesn't matter now. I'm over it. And you.” “Why do you wear the, uh ... key chain/necklace/ring/item I got you?” [stops short to think this over, then pulls the item off and hands it back] “To remind myself never to trust someone again.” — Emma Swan & Neal Cassidy

56 “There's no greater pain than regret.” “Try abandonment.” — Mr Gold & Neal Cassidy

57 “I'm not sad. I'm pissed. Yes, NAME just died, but I lost him/her years ago. All that time thinking that he/she didn't love me, only to find out that he/she did, and it was too late. I can't even tell him/her how angry that makes me, or how much it hurt when he/she left, or how terrified I was when he/she came back. I knew the moment I saw him/her, I never stopped loving him/her.” — Emma Swan

58 “We've only been together eight months. I've had leftovers in my fridge for longer than that.” — Emma Swan

59 “I say we fight!” “Fighting is a bad idea. Giving in to one's dark side never accomplishes anything.” “And how many wars has a clear conscience won?” — Prince Charming & Jiminy Cricket

60 “Oh, you foolish girl/boy! Don't you know? Love is weakness.” “No. It’s strength!” — Cora & Emma Swan

[nxnoire]

Desiderium

“I Know You’re In There Somewhere” Fight

part two part three part four

fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

my fifth prompt for @badthingshappenbingo

———

Ladybug had grown used to fighting akumas. She was no longer disturbed that she was fighting her friends or the kind Parisians she encountered in her daily life. Some had taken more effort than others to save, but she always had a plan. Each problem had a solution eventually.

Her and Chat Noir, they always came out on top no matter the stakes. Even when Chat Noir would be mind controlled or captured, she managed to come out on top. Of course, she worked the best with him. He wasn't her sidekick at all, rather the polar opposite of her. He would always sacrifice himself to assure her crucial power of purification was still functioning. He would also lighten the mood and always help her keep her stress at bay.

This time, there was no plan that could possibly help. Her partner, the one person she put all of her trust in, was the enemy today. Fighting her own best friend was nothing compared to fighting Chat Noir.

She stood on the rooftop, watching Chat Blanc with wide eyes as he was telepathically talking to Hawkmoth. Her mouth opened, no words able to come out. Ice froze her feet to the roof, preventing her from moving. Her hands began to shake, her anxiety rising.

"Hawkmoth's gonna create a super powerful akuma..."

Adrien was right: Hawkmoth had decided to create an akuma that would be as strong, if not stronger, than her. Her heart beat faster, threatening to burst through her chest. It became harder and harder to breathe the longer she stared at the akuma. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, even if it meant her panic would rise to dangerous levels.

The shaking only worsened when she noticed the purple light disappear from Chat's face. It spread to her legs, forcing her to fix her balance. She breathed through her mouth, taking in quick gasps to compensate for the lack of air in her lungs. No matter how hard she breathed, she couldn't seem to get enough air. Her chest screamed for air even though it was getting plenty of it.

"Ladybug!" Chat shouted, making her scared heart skip a beat. "I can see you. Be a nice lady and hand over your Miraculous."

"No!" She screamed shrilly. Her hands gripped the suit covering her legs tightly. She needed to grab something and ground herself. Wherever her sanity was, she needed to lure it back to her body.

Chat jumped over to her and cracked the roof with the great force of his landing. "Chat Noir, please, I know you're in there..." she whispered shakily, feeling her throat close up. He was uncomfortably close to her, but she couldn't move. If she moved, he would hurt her. If she stayed, he would hurt her.

She was going to die.

She was going to die.

"Chat Blanc," he corrected. "I look so much better in white, don't you think?"

Ladybug searched his purple eyes for any trace of Chat Noir. All she found was anger and sadness. She took a deep breath to try calming herself down.

Just as she had begun to ground herself, he lunged at her, but she dodged last minute. She jumped back clumsily and kept her eyes on Chat Blanc. As strange as it was, she was thankful he attacked her. It brought her conscience back to her body. The bubbling panic remained in her but it wasn't all-consuming anymore. Ladybug had taken over at last, telling her brain to wake up.

"Hand me your Miraculous, Princess." He motioned to her ears.

Ladybug spun her yo-yo, creating a shield at her side. "Even if you're my best friend I can't give it to you. I'd die before it fell into Hawkmoth's clutches."

"That's too bad. I'll just have to take it off your dead body." He ran for her, but she dodged again, jumping backwards onto the rooftop behind her. She landed more gracefully now that she was more aware of her surroundings.

"I'm not going to fight you!" she shouted, feeling her throat painfully close again. Tears glazed her eyes, making it harder to see. Coming out of her small panic brought upon a greater despair accompanied by the realization of her reality.

"You won't have to if you give me your Miraculous, bugaboo." He raised his hand and activated his Cataclysm without even saying the phrase. "Look at me! I've got even better powers than that poor black kitten. I've got infinite power! If you surrender, you can be the same. You could create anything you want, m'lady."

Him saying "m'lady" shattered her heart, reminding her that he was still had some of Chat Noir's mannerisms. It was a reminder that he was still Chat Noir no matter how much Hawkmoth tried to consume his mind.

She couldn't even respond before he became too impatient.

"I guess I'll just have to fight you instead."

He used his staff to launch himself over to Ladybug. He threw hits at her but she dodged all of them. He attempted to hit her with his Cataclysm but was unsuccessful as well.

Ladybug stepped back, feeling the tears get hotter and hotter. They blurred her vision even more. She rubbed them away, trying to regain vision. As Chat Blanc ran for her, she jumped into the air, landing behind him.

She took in a deep breath and threw her yo-yo into the air. "Lucky Cha—"

He managed to strike her chest, sending intense pain throughout her body. It cut her voice off. The Lucky Charm failed to manifest, disappearing in a flash of pink light and vortex of ladybugs. As Ladybug's body froze with pain, she dropped the yo-yo. Her limp body was pushed off the building with great force.

Tears flew off her eyes with the wind caused by her falling motion. She watched as the top of the building slowly got farther and farther from her. Wind blew in her face, displacing her hair, making it harder to see. She didn't want to see anyway. If she were able to see, she'd anticipate the brutal impact of the ground even more and she didn't want that.

She was terrified.

The Miraculous created a suit that was impenetrable. Miraculous users were nearly invincible, the only weakness being their heads. The kwamis absorbed all of the impacts from fights. But, the power of Cataclysm made bad things happen. It stole her Lucky Charm and broke the protective barrier of the Miraculous suit, most likely causing internal damage.

Her eyes shut as her body braced for impact. Please, let me be okay. Let me save the day. Let me bring Chat back.

Her breath left her body as her body violently hit the street. She bounced, skidding towards the road. Once her body stopped moving, she opened her eyes. The only pain was in her chest, thankfully. Less thankfully was the bright afternoon sky. The sun burned the back of her eyes. It was so bright it exemplified the existing pain in her chest. Sharp, red pain shot through her body with her failed attempt to sit up.

Her chest hurt.

"Ladybug! Are you okay?" A news reporter asked frantically, the camera behind her pointed at the hurting superhero.

"...Get out of here," she urged, saying through gritted teeth. "Chat Noir...is akumatized. He's really—he's really powerful."

Just as she finished, Chat Blanc landed right on top of her. His right hand was reaching for the earrings and his free hand supported his weight. He was way too close for comfort. No matter how much Ladybug made it seem like she hated Chat being so close to her, she honestly didn’t mind it. It was better than anyone else.

Chat Blanc was that “anyone else”.

The onlookers stepped back, shocked noise erupting into the air at the sight of the white villain. They knew Chat Noir had been akumatized, but actually seeing him in person was a completely different thing from watching him on a screen.

Chat Blanc smiled evilly, looking deep into Ladybug’s pained eyes.

"Good job, Chat Blanc. With Ladybug injured you can simply take her Miraculous yourself!"

Ladybug lay, her breathing shallow to avoid the pain of even a slight movement of her chest. Fear creeped up inside of her as Chat Blanc reached for her earring. Her eyes darted back and forth quickly, looking for anything to help her. Hawkmoth was not going to win, even if it meant she would die saving the Miraculous.

"Why?" She asked to buy time, pausing to take in a painful breath. "Why...are you so angry? Was it–was it because of me?"

Chat Blanc smiled. "Of course not, m'lady." His hand stopped. "I can't tell you anything. Let me have your Miraculous and maybe we can talk once I know who you really are."

Ladybug grabbed his wrist, sending another sharp pain through her body. "Letting Hawkmoth win won't solve any of this!" Her gaze turned to the camera filming the situation for a second before returning to Chat's pained eyes. "Please...I know you're in there, Chat. Come back. Please. I can’t lose you."

"Oh, but you haven't lost me. I'm still Chat, but better." He tried to push through Ladybug's tight grip.

"You're not better!" She shouted before kicking him off of her. It sent paralyzing pain throughout her body. Her earrings beeped as her head slammed against the ground. She slowly pushed herself up and sat on the ground, watching Chat Blanc get closer to her. As he got closer, she moved herself backwards before bumping into a car.

Chat Blanc stopped in front of her and smiled.

"Goodnight, Princess."

[audarkmist]

So, I usually find comfort in God but I have this recurring problem where when I think about Hell and the fact that God sends people there to be tortured eternally I start to get this nagging doubt in the back of my mind about whether or not He is truly good and I'm worried this means I'm not really saved and I'm a false convert. Do you have any advice for overcoming this? I just can't wrap my head around the idea that sending ppl to hell could ever be just rather than cruel. Is this just me?

Dear anon,

A) Cruel or just.

“I just can't wrap my head around the idea that sending ppl to hell could ever be just rather than cruel. Is this just me?”

A lot of people feel this way usually it’s the unconverted who do not see the magnitude of the evil sin. A person is usually saved (not always) when they notice they are a totally depraved sinner that cannot stop sinning without divine intervention. The name “Jesus” was attributed to Christ because He promised to save His people from their sins not just from hell. In this life the freedom from sin comes gradually through sanctification. In an instant of the twinkling of an eye the saved will be made with new bodies that cannot sin. Not being able to see the reason for hell simply comes down to not being able to see the magnitude of evil in sin. 

1. Who do we sin against?

Is it worse to curse a bug or a human? Is it worse to hate bugs or people? Is it worse to kill a bug or a human. In one way the reason sin is so bad is because God’s worth is far above our worth. The angels are before Him saying “Holy, Holy, Holy” every day with their eyes covered unable to even look upon Him. We are made in the image of God while God is Himself the one we are created to look like. How about this... Is it worse to burn a picture of someone or to burn that person? Maybe if we had a better grasp of the infinite worth and honor due of God we would see the magnitude of our evil. The extend of evil can be measured by the worth of the victim (be it picture, plant, bug, human or God). 

Psalm 51:4 I have sinned against you—only against you— and done what you consider evil. So you are right in judging me; you are justified in condemning me.

1 Samuel 2:25 If anyone sins against someone else, God can defend the one who is wrong; but who can defend someone who sins against the Lord?” But they would not listen to their father, for the Lord had decided to kill them.

The devil likes to blind us to the worth and beauty of God. This has been his ploy since he cannot kill God. Instead it’s easier to destroy people’s perception of Him.

2. Is the punishment disproportionate?

It is normal for us to think it too severe if we have a man-centered worldview. Hell tears this humanistic down to see we are not the most important. Many have fancies the idea of aliens and the idea that we are insignificant and meaningless atomic arrangement. That drops to the opposite extreme of the supremacist of man. We are not worthless nor we are not most important. We view sin from the horizontal plane instead of both the horizontal and the vertical. In the bible Joseph did not ask “how can do do this sin against this man by sleeping with his wife?” instead he asked “how can I do this sin before God”. David was not sad he killed a man but that he sinned before God. I previously explained the way we sin against God.

Hell wakes us up to the fact it’s not all about us. We have made God into some man-centered image. So many people want to see God as a genie to see what God can do for them. They think God to be their servant who must come at their beckoning to answer prayers, make them rich, make them successful or so on. Some people literally say “pray for me I don’t think I have gotten all the blessings I can”. The mindset of so many people is how God can serve them. This is how people come up with the prosperity gospel where they think God just wants them successful, famous, rich, wealthy and healthy. The doctrine of hell it comes to the conscious to remind us that we cannot manipulate or minimize this Holy God. We can look to God for provisions but it must be done to His glory not our own.

3. What is the extend of evil?

The problem of sin goes much deeper than one might initially assume. Right now God is by His common grace restraining some of the evil in every one of us. In hell the restraints come off and people are their maximal possible evil without a conscious to keep them in check. God gave us our conscious to put a limit on human evil but once judgment day comes and we are at no risk of harming anyone all the evil will be demonstrated. In hell everything suppressed by our conscious will be unleashed and we will demonstrate the full extent of evil in our hearts. So much is the evil in the hearts of men that most people would never shown their face again if their thought life was projected from everyone to see. The sheer fact that we sin and have to battle not to think or do worse evil gives us just a taste of the evil within our hearts (and that is still restrained). The conscious is a gift from God to minimize evil on earth. This sin in the heart will only grow and last forever in hell.

2 Thessalonians 2:7 The Mysterious Wickedness is already at work, but what is going to happen will not happen until the one who holds it back is taken out of the way.

Proverbs 20:27 The Lord gave us mind and conscience; we cannot hide from ourselves.

Titus 3:11 You know that such people are corrupt, and their sins prove that they are wrong.

4. The cross.

We cannot even begin to comprehend “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”. On the cross Christ bore the wrath of God the Father against sin. Christ wasn’t sweating drops of blood and feeling like He may die because of the roman cross. He was overwhelmed by the wrath of His own Father crushing Him. He still suffered it all on our behalf to offer salvation for anyone who will allow Him to take their place. 

B)  Is God good?

“I start to get this nagging doubt in the back of my mind about whether or not He is truly good”.

What do you mean when you say good? Jonathan Edwards wrote on hell:

I shall use only one argument, viz. that sin is heinous enough to deserve such a punishment, and such a punishment is no more than proportionable to the evil or demerit of sin. If the evil of sin be infinite, as the punishment is, then it is manifest that the punishment is no more than proportionable to the sin punished, and is no more than sin deserves. And if the obligation to love, honor, and obey God be infinite, then sin which is the violation of this obligation, is a violation of infinite obligation, and so is an infinite evil. If God be infinitely worthy of love, honor, and obedience, then our obligation to love, and honor, and obey him is infinitely great. Our obligation to love, honor, and obey God being infinitely great, sin is the violation of infinite obligation, and so is an infinite evil. Once more, sin being an infinite evil, deserves an infinite punishment. An infinite punishment is no more than it deserves. Therefore such punishment is just, which was the thing to be proved. There is no evading the force of this reasoning, but by denying that God, the sovereign of the universe, is infinitely glorious.

I am to show that it is not inconsistent with the mercy of God, to inflict an eternal punishment on wicked men. It is an unreasonable and unscriptural notion of the mercy of God, that he is merciful in such a sense that he cannot bear that penal justice should be executed. This is to conceive of the mercy of God as a passion to which his nature is so subject that God is liable to be moved, and affected, and overcome by seeing a creature in misery, so that he cannot bear to see justice executed: which is a most unworthy and absurd notion of the mercy of God, and would, if true, argue great weakness. - It would be a great defect, and not a perfection, in the sovereign and supreme Judge of the world, to be merciful in such a sense that he could not bear to have penal justice executed. The Scriptures everywhere represent the mercy of God as free, and not that the exercises of it are necessary, as if that God cannot bear justice should take place. The Scriptures abundantly speak of it as the glory of the divine attribute of mercy, that it is free in its exercises, and not that God cannot but deliver sinners from misery.

It is most absurd also as it is contrary to plain fact. For if there be any meaning in the objection, this is supposed in it, that all misery of the creature, whether just or unjust, is in itself contrary to the nature of God. For if his mercy be of such a nature that a very great degree of misery, though just, is contrary to his nature... And then a less degree of misery is contrary to his nature, and a still less degree of misery is contrary to his nature. And so the mercy of God being infinite, all misery must be contrary to his nature, which we see to be contrary to fact. Mercy would be contrary to the nature of God if justice was contrary to the nature of God.

However strong such kind of objections against the eternal misery of the wicked, may seem to the carnal, senseless hearts of men, as though it were against God's justice and mercy, yet their seeming strength arises from a want of sense of the infinite evil, odiousness, and provocation there is in sin. Hence it seems to us not suitable that any poor creature should be the subject of such misery, because we have no sense of anything abominable and provoking in any creature answerable to it. If we had, then this infinite calamity would not seem unsuitable. For one thing would but appear answerable and proportionable to another, and so the mind would rest in it as fit and suitable, and no more than what is proper to be ordered by the just, holy, and good Governor of the world.

That this is so, we may be convinced by this consideration, viz. that when we hear or read of some horrid instances of cruelty, it may be to some poor innocent child or some holy martyr - and their cruel persecutors, having no regard to their shrieks and cries, only sported themselves with their misery - we have a sense of the evil of them, and they make a deep impression on our minds. Hence it seems just, every way fit and suitable, that God should inflict a very terrible punishment on persons who have perpetrated such wickedness. It seems no way disagreeable to any perfection of the Judge of the world. We can think of it without being at all shocked. The reason is that we have a sense of the evil of their conduct, and a sense of the proportion there is between the evil or demerit and the punishment.

Just so, if we saw a proportion between the evil of sin and eternal punishment, i.e. if we saw something in wicked men that should appear just as eternal misery appears dreadful (something that should as much stir up indignation and detestation, as eternal misery does terror), all objections against this doctrine would vanish at once. Though now it seem incredible, [and] though when we hear of such a degree and duration of torments as are held forth in this doctrine and think what eternity is, it is ready to seem impossible that such torments should be inflicted on poor feeble creatures by a Creator of infinite mercy. Yet this arises principally from these two causes: 1. It is so contrary to the depraved inclinations of mankind, that they hate to believe it and cannot bear it should be true. 2. They see not the suitableness of eternal punishment to the evil of sin. They see not that it is no more than proportionable to the demerit of sin.

It is reasonable that they should be sensible of their own guilt, and should remember their former opportunities and obligations, and should see their own folly and God's justice. - If the punishment threatened be eternal annihilation, they will never know that it is inflicted. They will never know that God is just in their punishment. And how is this agreeable to the Scriptures, in which God threatens, that he will repay the wicked to his face, Deu. 7:10. And to that in Job 21:19, 20.

By the end... If you mean good as in “He is unable execute justice if people suffer and must save everyone” then he does not fit your definition. God is however “unable to” look upon sin (by His nature). 

Habakkuk 1:13 Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity: wherefore lookest thou upon them that deal treacherously, and holdest thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that is more righteous than he?

Meanwhile... if you mean God cannot sin, He cannot lie, He cannot break a promise, He is Holy, He is just, He delights to show mercy and He does love, He is wishing for reconciliation... Yes God is good.

C) False convert or not.

“I'm worried this means I'm not really saved and I'm a false convert”. Well let’s just start with a simple fact. Whether or not you are saved or not does not matter if you turn to God now in faith. God says “also now” and that today is the day of salvation (if you are not saved).

Joel 2:12-13 Therefore also now, saith the Lord, turn ye even to me with all you  heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning: And rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God: for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil.

James 4:9-10 Be afflicted, and mourn, and weep: let your laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up.

Ezekiel 33:11 Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel?

2 Chronicles 7:14 If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.

2 Corinthians 6:2 (For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succoured thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.)

Deuteronomy 30:19 I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.

Now I cannot tell you if you are a false convert or not since I do not know you. I can just say God made all the promises listed above and that He does not lie. I have never been disappointed by the promises of God. He is the one I trust the most above anyone. I have faith in Him and every time I stepped out in faith He came through. 

The good news is you don’t need “Holy Spirit conviction” to be saved. That is you do not need to fully grasp your sin in order to be saved. One is saved by faith alone in the finished works of Christ not their level of faith or assurance. It’s who you trust not how much or how well you trust. A sturdy bridge is just as sturdy for the fearful person as the courageous one. 

You may be sad that you seem to either have little faith or assurance not knowing which one (at least right now). In that you doubted God’s trustworthiness. It’s called faith because you do not see His trustworthiness but you’re willing to “take a leap of faith”. Sometimes the assurance part comes after and you just have to step out and trust Him. My only advice can be to have faith. 

It does help to develop a relationship with God to know Him. Prayer, sermons, testimonies and the bible can all help get to know God and his trustworthy promises. It’s easier to trust someone you know more. Feel free to see more on the gospel.

Let me know if you want anything else. Such as recommended sermons, more depths, good testimonies, parables or so on.

God bless!