#imagine the autopsy scars

[ughjay]

You know what I just realised. The bats gotta be in constant pain. Not just because of their bodies being essentially all kinds of fucked up from badly healed broken bones, always being some kind of bruised or the lasting damages from whatever hits they take.

But the scars.

Scars can hurt a lot. If you have deep and big ones, they can hurt even years after having gotten them. They itch and pulsate. They feel like someone’s stabbing a hot needle into you as deep as they can. Or a knife repeatedly slicing through you. Even years after.

And (presumably) having so many of them, and a lot of them probably also quite deep, they can limit your range of motion/muscle movement as well. Which in turn can hurt as well, if you accidentally stretch in a way your scars don’t normally easily allow you to.

[aurorangen]

There are some things we will remember for the rest of our lives

Transcript & Context:

[She couldn't have. I kept telling myself those words until they sounded believable. Billy also had conflicting thoughts about her innocence, judging from his face and actions in the following hours. We didn't know what was the truth. Ultimately she was innocent, but it was no easy task getting there]

[The police at Gibbs Hill provided the documents such as the forensics reports and witness testimonies, but they made no sense. The stab wound images didn't match the weapon. The witness testimonies were under fake names. Not a lot of biological evidence. Unfortunately, the only thing plausible was the fingerprints]

[When my mum was interrogated, she had a right to a lawyer, so she contacted the only person she could think of, Sunny Chaudhry, a criminal defence lawyer and old friend. He came to meet me straight after with details]

Sunny: Vincent, I will do everything possible to prove your mother is innocent. She has been framed.

[Initially, there were disputes between Sunny and Billy's police department with cooperating. He was defending the criminal after all. Further review of the documents proved something was off with Gibbs Hill Police and they decided to reinvestigate the murder. Expert help was vital to reinforce the evidence]

[Another autopsy was done to estimate the time of death, cause and identity. Immediate observation showed he wasn't my father. The body identified was a murder victim, from a case solved a week back. It was enough proof. All that was left was for Sunny to finish the legal procedures and defense strategy for the trial]

[Then the day of the trial came. I listened intently to every word he spoke and forgot my anxiety. The verdict was my mum was not guilty and she was released from all charges. Immediate investigation was to be done on Gibbs Hill Police. Sunny looked so powerful in front of everyone: I was mesmerised by his confidence]

Well, this was my idea for why he wanted to be a lawyer! Seeing Sunny fight for Payton to prove her innocence, opened Vincent's eyes. It's quite meaningful because one impacted his own life in such a significant way. And yes I brought back an old face.

Vincent: [whispers to himself] I want to be like that one day. A lawyer?

[It was a job that positively impacted society, a job that held so much authority. A responsibility to uphold justice and fairness. It provided a voice to the voiceless, a voice that would be heard by people]

[notaselfshipblog]

if you have an f/o with scars imagine gently tracing over them with your finger or gently kissing them and reminding your f/o that theyre still lovely even with all their scars ❤️

[artemis-b-writes]

Who needs the stereotype of a woman picking up stray dogs when we can pick up stray vigilantes?!

Red Is Dead

previous

—you find a familiar friend in an alleyway

—red hood x f!reader

—2.4k

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The rain fell gently, a soft patter that barely disturbed the stillness of the evening. The air even smelled of damp soil and blossoming flowers that filled your nostrils as you made your way home. You felt a sense of calmness wash over your body as you walked. It was honestly pretty surprising that a city as crime-ridden and lively as Gotham could invoke any serenity.

You weren't even from the city, but people talked. They criticized the city for being perilous since it was full of criminals and villains alike reaping havoc on the city every night—well, except from the looks of it, tonight.

Maybe tonight was their night off, you thought, before following with a small laugh.

You glance at Tom, your newish bodyguard, steadily walking behind you—poised as always. Your father had insisted he hire one since Gotham was unsafe, and some people would love nothing more than to see your father hurt—even if it meant going through you to do it.

Your father had insisted, more like forced, that you take him with you on your little expedition. Truthfully, you had really no idea why you had decided to leave the apartment you stayed in when you were in town and walk down the strip.

It was most likely to try to get a certain blue-eyed boy out of your head. It was odd; you couldn't get that guy out of your head since Bruce's gala. You two had slept together—on a roof. It was a one-night stand, and you couldn't forget about it. What was wrong with you?

"It's quiet," you say, trying to hide your embarrassment from laughing at seemingly nothing.

"Quite," Tom agrees. You sigh as you drudge your legs, irritated by his lack of conversion.

"Did you have to take a communication class before you got this gig?" You offhandedly ask as you walk past an apparent new burger place with a flashy sign that reads 'Between The Buns.'

"I don't believe so," he hums, not sparing the tacky sign a singular glance. You glance back at him, humming a sound of acknowledgment.

"You didn't need to trouble yourself with walking me home, Tom," you assure, stopping in front of him to admire another storefront, this time of a flower shop named 'The Flower Pot,' which is oddly next to an alleyway.

"It's my job to protect you, Miss," he informs, voice steady.

"I know, but—" you begin, turning your head to look down the alleyway, noticing a figure hunched against the shop's bricked wall, softly cursing. Your eyes widen, taking note of the shiny red of his helmet that you could see even in the shitty lighting.

"What's the matter?" Tom questions, wondering what you're looking at. You spare him a glance before sprinting over to the hunched-over figure. Tom yells your name, trailing behind you.

Once you reach the figure, chest heaving, you look over his abdomen, seeing blood spatters seeping through what looks like a shirt. You breathe out, hand coming to cover your mouth.

"Oh my—oh, he's, he's dead! Oh my—Tom! Tom!" You squeal, pointing at the bloodied and beaten person in front of you—that looked a helluva lot like a certain vigilante you spotted in a tabloid. Tom stepped closer to the guy, carefully observing him to see if he was in fact dead.

As he tried to reach down and grab the guy's wrist, his hand came up to grasp Tom's.

"Not dead," the guy murmured, moving his hand to hold his abdomen. "Kinda wish I was, though." Your eyes widen again, eyes scanning his helmet and the guns strapped to his thighs, and ears taking notice of the modulation of his voice.

"Hey, wait. You're that Hood guy," you announce, pointing a finger at him.

"Maybe, maybe not," the guy shrugs, clutching his abdomen tighter, clearly trying to suppress losing any more blood.

"No, you're totally him," you tilt your head, bringing your hands to rest on your hips. "I heard about you from the Gazelle—Red Hood, right?"

"Hey, hey. Keep your voice down," the guy urged, slightly sitting up, hissing at the action. He leaned back against the wall, throwing his head back as he did. He flicked his eyes back to yours, briefly taking note of your soured expression.

"Fine. You caught me," Hood groaned out, bringing his hand up to observe them. Cursing as he sees them caked in a mix of fresh and old blood. You look at Tom before bending down, putting your body weight on your toes.

"Fuck. You need to go to the hospital," you murmur, looking into his eyes.

"No hospital," Hood's gaze flicks to yours; his tone is unmistakably serious.

"You'll bleed out and die," you attest, eyes glaring at his.

"I'm not going to a hospital," he says, turning his head away from you.

"I can't—are you serious?" You dryly laugh.

"Dead," he insists.

"Well, I'm not leaving you to die," you cross your arms over your chest, clearly not budging.

"Why? Would it hurt your feeble conscience?" He gibed, hissing as he brought his hand to grip his abdomen.

"I—you can't just ask me to let you die, Red," you affirm, bringing your hands to put more pressure on where blood seeps out.

"I'm not," he hisses. "I just said no hospital."

"So, then, where do you suppose we take you? You hiss, agitated at his lack of cooperation and appreciation that you didn't just leave his ass to bleed out. "That fucking burger place across the street?"

"Wouldn't chance it," he begins, wheezing as Tom picks his shirt up a little to expose the bloody gash, carefully pressing his handkerchief that was tucked nicely in his coat pocket onto it to try and stop the bleeding. "They might put me in the burgers."

"Gross," you roll your eyes at Red before turning to Tom. "What the hell are we going to do with him?" Tom takes a breath before pulling his phone out to text someone.

"No, seriously, they would put me in that meat grinder," Red deadpans.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pressing his abdomen harder. "Let me think."

"And then feed me to everyone," his voice is indifferent before it turns curious. "Wonder if I'm tasty?"

"Oh my god, you're impossible," you deeply sigh.

"The limo is pulling up," Tom supplies, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket and glancing at Red. "I'm sure you don't want to hear this, but I work for your family, so it's your call. Where do you want to take him?" Tom says coolly.

You look back at an anguished Red, silently cursing from pain. Taking a deep breath, you look at Tom, nodding to Red.

"I'll take him to my apartment," you declare. Red lets out a dry chuckle as Tom helps him up, bringing his arm to grip Red's lower back tightly, while Red's arms drape over his shoulders.

"Woah, woah. I'm not just some stray cat you can take in cus' I'm cute," Red groggily says.

"I don't think you're cute," you plainly say as you and Tom guide him into the back of the limo. The driver holds the door open, paying no heed to what is happening.

"I actually think you're a bit of a dick," you shrug, getting him situated in his seat as you sink into the seat next to him, gently placing your hand to put more pressure on his wound.

"Do those things have to be mutually exclusive?" Red quips, tilting his head back on the headrest.

"To me, yes," you simply say, hearing Tom mutter something to the driver. "To be considered cute, you can't be a dick, and if you're a dick, you aren't cute."

"Mhm. You're an odd one, alright," Red murmurs, putting pressure on the wound himself. Your eyes flick to his as you feel his hands lay on top of yours on his abdomen, surprised to find his eyes already dulling into yours.

"You—we probably, um, we probably only need one pair of hands for pressure," you feel your face heat as you pull your hands off of him, laying them on either side of your thighs instead.

"Okay. We'll be there in fifteen," Tom says, turning to look at you and Red. He raises a brow at how you sit straight up in the seat and your hands tightly tucked to your side. You are grateful when he doesn't question why. "Also, just for the record, I had no prior knowledge of this happening. Yes?" Tom asks, tilting his head towards you.

"Got it. You don't want to be my accomplice," you amend, tipping your head towards him.

Once you reach your apartment, Tom helps you bring Red inside to rest on the couch. You assure him you will be fine. He says he is only a call away if you need anything.

You were honestly surprised that Tom willingly left, but maybe he was finally starting to see you as an adult and not a child, or perhaps he didn't want Red's blood on his hands if he did die while under your roof. You hoped the former.

"So, uh, are you thirsty?" You yell from your place in the bathroom, opening the cupboard under your sink and fumbling with the cleaning supplies to try and grab your small first aid kit. "Hungry?"

"Not really," Red gravels, pressing a button on his shiny red mask before ripping it off to reveal a simple black domino mask.

"You should probably have some water at least," you say, heading into the kitchen to fill a fresh glass with tap water from your sink. You walk into the living room, gently placing the water next to him on the side table while you sit on the coffee table, shuffling through the first aid kit.

"Thanks," he gruffed, reaching for the cup of water and chugging down almost the whole glass, wiping some of the water that dripped down his chin with the back of his gloved hand.

You looked up, a hint of humor in your eyes at him before you saw it. His lips. You knew those lips. You were sure of it. You fiddled with a piece of gauze you dipped in saline in your hand as your eyes examined him further.

"What?" Red curiously says, taking notice of fervent staring. You dart your eyes back to his before moving back to the gauze.

"Sorry. You—you just look a little familiar," you admit, moving closer to him. He gently lifts his shirt so you can clean the wound.

"Ya," he winces as he feels the gauze gently pat around the gash. "Knew that wouldn't last long," he utters as he rips off his black domino mask, tossing it to his side.

You are slightly startled by his swift movement, pulling back. "Wha—Jason," you exclaim, shock and disbelief coating your face. "You—you're," you stutter, unsure of what to say.

"Ya," he awkwardly says, cringing from pain as he scratches the back of his neck. "Fuck."

"Shit. Okay, okay. We need to take care of this before we dive into—you use your hand to gesture towards him—that." He lightly nods as you delicately place the gauze onto the gash.

"Fuck—fuck!" He curses, throwing his head back, jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.

"You okay?" You halt your actions, staring at him with more gauze in hand.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" He grits, tipping his head down to look at you. Your eyes are wide at his tone. He sighs. "M'sorry. Just—just keep going," he exasperates, laying his head back down, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you finish placing the gauze and taping it thoughtfully to ensure it was secure on his skin.

"It should be okay tonight, Red. But you should really get it checked out tomorrow," you begin, closing up the kit. "You know, by a doctor."

"You can," he pauses momentarily. "Just call me Jason."

"Okay, Jason," you smile a little, "Please get it checked tomorrow." He nods as you get up to put the first aid kit back in your bathroom. You come back to see him staring up at the ceiling.

"I, uh, died," he mumbles as you take a seat on the couch cushion farthest from him. You let out a laugh, turning your head to look at him. His face is still looking at the ceiling, but it lacks humor.

"What do you mean?" You question.

"Just—I don't know," he raises his hand, trying to shoo away the question. "Forget it."

"Jason," you softly say, hand lingering closer to his own. "Tell me." You bring your hand to lay on top of his; he turns towards you swiftly at the contact. You lightly smile to let him know it's okay. He takes a deep breath before revealing more.

He doesn't go into details about what occurred during his time in Arkham, but he did talk about his resurrection from Lazarus Pit; you didn't even know what the hell that was. He just said it can revive someone from the dead if they have just died.

"Then you became Red Hood?" You quietly asked, your hand gripping his tighter. You had not even realized it, but sometime during the conversation, you had scooted closer to him.

"Then I became Red Hood," he agrees, a light glint of humor dancing across his face. You hum a sound of acknowledgment, contemplating your following words.

"Does your dad know?" You ask, tilting your head a little. He raises a brow, clearly confused.

"Does my—" he begins to question before he lets out a slight huff, "Bruce?" You nod.

"He does," Jason affirms without the sarcastic commentary he would typically enforce since you just looked so sincere.

You both sat in silence for a bit, heads leaned back on the headrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling, fingers now interlaced. Oddly, it felt so casual—like you had just done this a million times before. You had only met him once before, but you felt like you could just trust him with your life—I mean, he had trusted you with his.

"You should sleep," you break the silence, slowly turning your head to face him, cheek smushed against the leather of the couch.

"Nah. Sleep is for the weak," he mumbles, turning his head to look at you. "Would you mind just, uh, staying here?" He awkwardly asks. "Please."

"No need to beg, Jason," you snicker. "I won't leave. I promise." He slightly flinches at your words. You don't question why; instead, you interlock your fingers tighter so he knows you aren't fibbing.

You get the feeling he's never really had anyone to take much care of him. So, you'll sit on the ugly brown leather couch you despise while the air conditioning turns on, sending shivers and goosebumps down your bare arm because everyone deserves to have somebody.

Even if that 'everyone' is just a stray vigilante with a huge ego.

a/n: posting this then running away (also still very new to dc so plz don’t be mean to me about the lore if it’s inaccurate)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[hughiecampbelle]

Imagine being Hughies older sibling whose a doctor and Butcher instantly liking you:

Requested: anon

"Get out of my way."

Butcher had never been talked to like that before. Immediately, he liked you. He took a step back, giving you your space. The wound wasn't bad, but it didn't mean you were happy about it. The stitches were done quickly, messily, and your brother would probably have a scar, but he was alert, his breathing was normal, he was even making jokes. "Don't you ever do this to me again." You say, your words hostile, but your tone petrified. You were scared out of your mind, covered in Hughies blood. You were used to blood. You worked with blood. But when it was seeping into your couch, your clothes, hemorrhaging from your brother, it left you rattled. They didn't know where else to go, though. Hughie told them your address and they followed instructions. He knew going to the hospital was out of the question, they'd ask too many questions none of them could answer. So, you were the next best option.

"Promise, it won't happen again." He smiles. The painkillers you gave him were finally setting in. You placed your hand against his forehead, wiping off the blood. You and Hughie were always close growing up. You took care of him, he was your baby brother after all. You and him and your father were all you had. They supported you when you went through medical school and your father couldn't have been prouder of your career. As soon as you got your white coat your father changed your contact name to Dr. Campbell. After Robin was killed, you sort of became estranged. He disappeared more often, took longer to text back, rarely returned your phone calls. Then, a few months ago, he appeared out of the blue and told you everything. He couldn't keep it a secret anymore. The guilt was eating him alive. He didn't want to hurt you anymore, it was bad enough he was keeping it from Dad. So, you listened. No judgement, or yelling, just listening. You never thought it would lead to this, though.

"You," You say, turning your attention towards Butcher. "If you ever put his life in danger again, I will personally perform an autopsy on you while you're still alive. Got it?" You weren't like Hughie. You were bossy, and sarcastic, and crude. You didn't put up with any bullshit and you wouldn't let anyone get away with it, either, especially not Butcher. The last time you met, weeks ago, Hughie came to warn you, tell you about what was going to happen, that you might need to leave for a little while for your own safety. You refused. Butcher tried talking to you, but you were only interested in what Hughie had to say. You didn't like the looks of Butcher. Now, you actually had a reason not to. But he liked you. You were smart, you had an attitude, and you weren't afraid of him. He wanted to talk to you, to show his interest, but it was never the right time. Especially not now.

"Understood."

[rowanisawriter]

shadowheart/durge is THE messiest pairing in the game lol. zero memories between them, they barely even know their own names. shar and bhaal exchanging notes on how to fuck up a disciple beyond all repair and recognition. Shadowheart has her mysterious god hand injury and durge has AUTOPSY scars, imagine an early game conversation, “where did you get those scars” “idk what about yours” “idk” disaster. both of them in baldur’s gate walking through streets where they murdered stalked and/or terrorized random citizens like oh this place… looks familiar ….turn up suddenly at an underground hidden temple…. Home sweet home.

[niche-pastiche]

One thing I can never stop thinking about with Jason Todd and his autopsy scars is... what happened to the viscera bag? kay, so for people who are less familiar with the deathcare industry, a viscera bag is kind of exactly what it sounds like. When a person gets autopsied by the coroner or medical examiner, they take all the organs out through the Y incision right? Well, they don't keep the organs. They put them all back in a big red plastic bag and put that bag inside the body and then stitch things up with temporary sutures. Once the body gets to the funeral home, they'll embalm all the organs and the rest of the body, but then the embalmed organs go back in the body cavity and depending on what technique the embalmer likes to use sometimes they also go back inside the viscera bag. (Alternately, they get layered in with a variety of compounds kind of like a weird lasagna. But that's less interesting storywise in this situation and honestly I think the bag method is more common.) Anyway, I can't stop imagining Jason, fresh out of the pit, off to the side hacking and coughing up a bloody red plastic bag.

[angelamontoo]

I want to slice him up like ham. I'll make a nice little sandwich out of him <3

[skulldetergent]

ghost scar headcanons (CW for his backstory)

no tattoo/no text version & explanation under the cut

CW⚠️ discussion of child abuse, torture, self harm & sa

since i headcanon ghost to have quite a few scars, i decided to make a "character sheet" or "scar map" to keep my art more consistent.

in the drawing, the scars are already labeled and i think pretty self-explanatory, but i will go into some more detail and elaborate on my headcanons. again, please read the content warning. i did my best at trying to discuss the following in a sensitive way, but it may be upsetting to read nonetheless.

let's begin with the ones that say "mission". i imagined they are just random scars he sustained during his service over the years, like gunshot scars or knife slashes from close combat.

but others like "roba's hook", the autopsy scar, tally marks, the whip scars and his glasgow smile are from during the time where he was captured and tortured. i headcanon reboot ghost to have pretty much the same backstory as OG ghost, with some slight differences and additions of my own.

things like the glasgow smile or tally marks are made up by me, and others like the being hanged from his ribs actually happened (comics). ghost was also canonically sexually assaulted multiple times, which gave me the idea of said tally marks to emphasise how cruel his captors were.

correct me if i'm wrong, but in the comics ghost doesn't have any scars after being tortured, any cuts shown on his body just cease to exist a few panels later. but considering what he was put through, i do think that there would be permanent scarring.

now, it's also canon that ghost was abused by his father in ways like him bringing large animals such as snakes in his room to scare him, or having him watch a woman die from OD, which made me consider what the full extent of his terrible father's "parenting" must've looked like.

ghost has a small, almost faded scar under his eye, he was too young to remember how he got it, only finding out when his mother told him. his father was being neglectful when he was supposed to watch him, and simon injured himself while wandering around.

now, it is unclear in the comics if mr. riley's abuse was purely psychological, or if it extended to physical as well (again, correct me if i'm wrong). but i didn't find it unrealistic to have the latter be the case, which is why simon has cigarette burn scars on his neck and legs. his father found it amusing under the guise of "making him a man" and seeing how long little simon could take it before he would start crying. nowadays the burns are barely visible.

and lastly, the self harm scars covered up by the tattoo sleeve on his left arm. considering what simon had to go through at an early age, it is not unlikely that he might have resorted to SH as a teenager. and later, he got the tattoo as a reminder to himself that those days are his past and not his present.

i really read the comics and said:

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 23

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: getting suggestive again, and dealing with trauma wc: 2.3k

Chapter Selection

“Are you sure you want to do this today, honey? You’ve already made a lot of progress today…” I frowned slightly. Jason was chewing on his lower lip, sitting in front of me on my bed. The lights were on, and he was in a tank top, showing me his arms.

He nodded slowly, reaching for my hand. “I want to do this. I just … need a second.”

I squeezed his hand, nodding. “Anything you want. … Do you know how much or how little you want me to react?”

“... No … Um … just your natural reaction, I guess? … Don't touch though. Not yet.”

I nodded, holding his hand in both of mine. “Ok. Whenever you're ready.”

He nodded, looking at our hands for a second before sliding his hand away, shakily taking his shirt off. I sat back, watching as he slowly revealed his muscular chest and stomach. He had a little bit of hair trailing from his belly button to the hem of his pants, and scars peppered his torso. Something short-circuited in my brain as he dropped his shirt to the side; a primal growl poured out of my throat and I slapped my hands over my face.

“... What on earth was that???” Jason squeaked, staring at me wide eyed.

“... I'm so sorry…” I hid my face against my knees, blushing bright red.

“... Did you seriously just growl??”

“Do you seriously look like that?!” I shot back, blushing bright red. “Oh my god, Jay… how the hell am I supposed to function now??”

He blushed bright red, grabbing his shirt again. “Is it that bad?”

“No!!” I held a hand up to stop him; “no, it's not bad! … Why would it be bad???”

He blushed more, gesturing to a thin, pink line down the center of his stomach. I followed it up his chest where it split between his pecs, frowning a little. I hadn't noticed it until he pointed it out. “... That is not at all what I thought we were talking about here.”

“What were you looking at??”

“The muscles??? … My love, do you not realize you are shaped like Hercules after the training montage?”

He blushed bright red, staring down at himself. His chest and stomach had dozens of more prominent scars, but he seemed fixated on the one in the center. “... I … guess?”

I groaned softly, flopping backward to lay down. “Mhhh, fuck … can we be Hercules and Megara for Halloween next year?”

He chuckled softly. “If you want. … It's really not that bad?”

 I looked up at him, biting my lower lip softly. “Mhh~ not bad in the slightest. … I think this is one of those things where it's more noticeable to you, because it bothers you, than it is to others.”

“... Oh…” he frowned a bit, staring at it more.

“... Why does it bother you so much?”

“... I'm a zombie …” he whispered sadly.

“... Oh….” I frowned, sitting up slowly, finally understanding. That was an autopsy scar. “... Can I have your hand?”

He nodded, holding it out to me. I stroked the palm gently. “Do you feel that?” He nodded, and I held his hand to my cheek. “Hm, … feels warm.” I pressed two fingers to his wrist. “And that's a pulse. Nope, I'm sorry sweetie, but I don't think you qualify as a zombie.”

He blushed a bit, chuckling weakly. “... I was brought back from the dead…”

“You're the classics nerd in the room; how many demi-gods, heroes, and men of myth have been resurrected?”

“... A lot.”

“Were they zombies after?”

“... No… not usually.”

“Then why are you any different?”

He blinked a bit, frowning. “... I'm not … I'm not like them.”

“No, you're better. You're right here in front of me.” I kissed his palm, stroking his forearm gently. “You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

He nodded slowly, blushing brightly. “... Ok, … you … really like the muscles?”

“Ohhh baby, yessss~” I purred softly, already imagining getting my teeth on his pecs. “You have no idea the things I want to do with you~”

He blushed brightly, hesitantly grinning. A shocked chuckle slipped out of his mouth as he looked down at his chest again; “... Ok, … you can touch now.”

“I can??” I blushed brightly.

“If you want,” he smiled shyly at me.

I grinned, nodding. “Oh, I want. But do you want?”

He chuckled softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. He slowly pulled me closer, whispering; “Why don't we start with this?”

I nodded, shifting closer, and he pulled me into a soft kiss. I rested my forearms on his shoulders, letting him lead for now, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. His thumbs caressed my sides, sliding under my shirt a bit as he pulled me closer. I sighed happily against his lips, letting one hand rest on his shoulder. The other slid into his hair, tugging gently.

Jason groaned softly, laying on his side and pulling me down next to him. I slowly let my hand trail down his chest, tracing the outline of his pec and down his abs. He breathed in deeply, squeezing my side a bit. “Ah~ d- doll~”

I grinned, kissing down his jaw. “That feel ok, pretty boy?~”

He shuddered, gasping; “Nguh… p- pretty?”

“Mhh-hm~ my pretty boy~” I purred softly, kissing his neck. I could feel his pulse racing under my lips as I slid my hand along his muscular chest.

His breath hitched as my fingers slid delicately over a bullet scar on his hip. “Ah … N- no one's ever called me pretty before…”

“Not to your face at least…” I purred softly, licking the soft spot where his jaw met his neck.

He gasped sharply, groaning softly. “O- ohhh fuck~ a- are you gonna eat me?”

“Mhhh, I might have to~” I gently nibbled on his Adam's apple, moaning softly; “you just look so tasty~ Is that ok?~”

He shuddered, pulling me so our chests pressed together. “Ahh~ fuck, ma~ … y- yeah~”

I chuckled softly, kissing down his throat to his collarbone. My fingers trailed across his chest, delighting in the way his muscles twitched and quivered under my touch. I watched his face as I kissed and licked more. He laid back and whimpered softly, squirming a bit as I explored his chest. I gently bit down on his nipple, reveling in the startled moan that poured from his lips.

“W- wait …” He covered his face, whining softly. I pulled back, gently stroking his side.

“Too much?”

He covered his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I … I want … Um …”

I nodded, stroking along his abs gently. “You can have anything you want, baby. You just say the word, and it's yours~”

He squeaked softly, peeking at me from between his fingers. “I wanna … make you feel good…”

I giggled softly, nodding. “How would you like to do that?”

He chewed on his lower lip, frowning a bit. “Um ... can … can I …”

He slowly pushed me to lay on my back, and I happily fell into the position he wanted. He leaned over me, kissing me gently, and I cupped his cheeks. His hands trailed down my sides to the hem of my shirt. “Can I … take this off?”

I nodded, shifting to help him slide it off. He moaned softly, fondling my soft tummy and kissing my chest. I groaned softly, gently tugging his hair. “Ah~ Jay~”

He moaned softly, kissing and nipping at my breasts. I whimpered and moaned, shivering. “Ohh fuck, Jason~”

He grinned, stroking my hips as he kissed down my chest. His lips finally met my tummy and he purred softly, squishing my soft curves between his hands as he pressed kisses all over me. I blushed bright red, shivering.

“Mhhh~ so soft~” he purred, pressing against me firmly.

I blushed bright red, shivering. “Ahh … y- you like that?”

“Love it~ you're so cozy and cuddly~ just wanna bury myself in your warmth and never come back out~ … love you so much, my sexy girl~”

I whimpered softly, blushing more. “Ahh~ I love you too~”

He sighed happily, kissing and nuzzling my tummy more, stroking my hips absentmindedly. I squirmed a bit under his touch, gently tugging his hair. We laid like that, his hands and lips exploring my chest and stomach, my hands in his hair, for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other’s touch.

After a while, my fingers slid down his neck and across his back. He shivered a bit as my ring finger slid against a divot in his skin; a small, oblong burn scar near his spine. Jason pulled back a bit, staring down at me with wide, far away eyes. His breath came in short, rapid pants, and I carefully moved my hands away.

“Jay? Baby, can you hear me?”

He shuddered, gasping softly, and slowly nodded.

“... Do you know where you are?”

“... 'm home … with you … we're in your room …” I nodded, carefully resting a hand against his. He fumbled to grasp my hand, squeezing tight. “... I … I can hear him …”

“... What do you hear, baby?”

He whined softly, his forehead falling against my chest. “... H- he's laughing … I … I can't …”

I frowned deeply, squeezing his hand firmly. “I'm here, baby. He can't hurt you anymore. I'm right here; you're in my home, you're safe…”

He gasped sharply, collapsing on top of me. “... Please …. Please, make it stop … I … I can't … I can't …”

I stroked the back of his head, holding him tight to my chest. “I'm here, Jason. Feel my heart beating?”

He grasped for me, crying softly, and slowly nodded. I took his hand, pressing it firmly to my chest, so he could feel my heart. “You are safe. You are here in my arms, and I won't let anything happen to you. I'm here. We're in my bedroom. It's almost dinner time. We're gonna order from that little Chinese restaurant on the corner. Nothing’s gonna harm you.”

He panted softly, slowly wrapping his arms around my waist. I held him tight, stroking his shoulders. “... Deep, slow breathes, baby. You can do it…”

Eventually, his breathing evened out a bit. “That's good. You're doing so well for me, baby~ … can you name five things you see?”

“... You. … Blanket … bookshelf … window… tree.”

I nodded. “Very good. Now four things you can touch?”

His hands slid across my back, trembling; “mhh … you … bed … pillow … my shirt.”

I nodded. “And now three things you can hear?”

“... Your voice … the heat kicking on … um …” he burrowed his face into my chest; “... I can't think of anything else…”

“Hmm … do you hear … the bird on the tree?” I pointed toward the window and he listened.

“... Yeah, ok, the bird…”

I nodded, kissing his forehead. “Very good. Now, how about two things you can smell?”

“... Your perfume.” He sighed happily, kissing above my heart. “... And … the laundry detergent on the blanket.”

I nodded, stroking his hair. “Well done, my love~ now something you can taste?”

He frowned, thinking. “... Um …” he looked up at me and slowly smiled, kissing me gently. “Mh~ your chapstick.”

I giggled softly, nodding. “Good one. You feeling a bit more stable now?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I'm stable. … I … I'm sorry, that was-”

“No, no sorries. You have nothing to apologize for.” I stroked his hair, kissing his forehead. “I’m sorry you got sucked back there like that.”

He snuggled against me, sighing softly. “... You didn't do anything wrong, doll. … I just … got stuck.”

I nodded, stroking his hair more. “I've got you, baby…”

He caressed my side, kissing my shoulder. “You take such good care'a me… I … I don't understand it.”

I held him close, “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“... I … I don't understand how you so effortlessly make space for my brokenness. … We were having fun, and then my past got in the way … And you aren't mad. … You see my sharp edges and accept them without even a moment's hesitation, like you're not afraid to be cut… I don't understand how you're so strong … You do it for Damian too, you know. … We're both so used to being people's projects. Just … things that need to be fixed. We're dangerous. We hurt those around us, like … ice in your lungs, and fire licking your heels, …. We are death made flesh …And you embrace us without reservation. … Don't you realize, there are monsters in our shadows? Don't you hear them howling, determined to consume everything in their path? … Your gentleness will make you their first target. The monsters will make puppets of us, they always do eventually, and they will feast on your flesh.... You are so clever, surely you know, if you don't flee, someday soon my monsters will eat us both alive...”

He sniffled softly, arms and legs entangled with mine, as if he was afraid I might agree and run screaming. I stroked his hair more, holding him close. “... You're not the only one with monsters, my love. … My monsters scream for blood; they cannot fathom how anyone who loves you could know what you've been through and just … let it be. … They want vengeance, and they make it sound so easy … I … I want to make you safe. I want to fight whatever darkness tries to sink its claws into you, … I want to make it bleed…”

He blinked slowly, pulling me closer. “... Y- you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid … I need you to be safe.”

I nodded, cupping his cheek. “I promise, nothing stupid. As long as you promise to always come home to me.”

He nodded, pressing desperate kisses to my lips. “Promise. Always gonna come home to you, princess~”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy

[and-so-he-rambled]

Notes on the Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters au

Master list

- The GIW only figured out weird stuff was happening when they examined the crime scene of the Fenton home and did autopsies on the bodies. They tracked down the children to Wisconsin and raided Vlad’s castle to get their hands on the children, having no idea Vlad was a half ghost. This is why they managed to escape.

- Vlad is a fire core ghost, he has more or less full control after years of practice but hasn’t mastered them as well as he thinks he has. He’s still young for a ghost.

- Vlad is young still, Late twenties/ early thirties. Dalv co was barely off the ground when they fled and has no idea what he’s doing man. He looks as young as the day he died but his hair is grey and his face has subtle scarring.

- Jazz is liminal, her only real show is pointed ears and teeth and the whitening patch in her hair.

- Daniel is a baby ghost who’s not in full control of his shifting. Imagine first season Danny but so much worse. He thankfully hasn’t unlocked many powers beyond intangibility and flight, but he runs cold and can frost things over accidentally.

- Vlad knows he can’t use his powers visibly in his extra curriculars and risk being tracked down, so he plans to be a regular cat burglar. Danny decided his name is HoneyBadger since he is baby Badger. Whether he will use it is to be decided. (He will)

- Everyone who meets the Badger decides on their own he’s probably a meta, he’s like really bad at pretending to be normal and has definitely been caught flying before.

- Bruce is going to fall in love with this local homeless dad if it kills me

- Vlad is on the ace spectrum, wether he realizes that or not is unknown

- Vlad may have always wanted a son, but he’s very much a girl dad. Jazz is his pride and joy and he sorta accidentally adopts Poison Ivy later on as well

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Jason Todd Headcannons

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

This is my first time writing for DC, so please be nice☹️

Genre: Fluff, maybe some smut

Also!!! My requests are always open if you have a specific blurb, oneshot, series, or hc set that youre interested in!!

Without further adue, lets crack into some of my hcs for our little demon spawn

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

Mf runs hot. Very hot. Like im talking human furnace hot. Jason is the type to be absolutely suffocating you with his body heat alone, nevermind his weight added to the mix.

Speaking of: Jason absolutely smothers you while he sleeps. Not that he means to, of course: it just kinda happens. Like you'll fall asleep laying on his chest and wake up in the middle of the night to him holding you in a bear hug with no signs of letting go.

I think that if his white patch were ever to grow back in normally, he'd just start bleaching it anyway. He thinks it adds to the whole 'badass redhood' persona.

HATESSS using alarms in the morning. He thinks they're the most annoying bullshit ever. He'll get up whenever he damn wants.

Definitely disconnects his phone from his helmet on patrols (bc I imagine he'd have almost like a Bluetooth audio setup) just so he doesn't have to deal with the rest of the Batfamily on his ass. Like no, Dick, whatever you need help with can wait until I feel like helping.

He absolutely hates people looking at his autopsy scar. He thinks its just their way of taunting or mocking him non-verbally.

100% suffers from chronic pain. I mean, what else would he be cursed with after being resurrected? On that note, however, he literally just tries to ignore it (and fails) or ends up using CBD lotion or something of the sorts. Im kinda picturing some lower back and hip pain that he'd deal with.

He's constantly passive aggressive. Its just in his nature. Buttt if you know him well enough, you'll be able to tell when he's genuinely trying to be nice. Or at least less of an ass than normal.

He tries to show up to holidays and stuff with the rest of the family, he really does. But sometimes it's just too much for him. Whether its one of his worse days with his chronic pain or if its just out of not wanting to start an argument (probably with Bruce,) he does try. Even if most of the Christmas dinners or birthday parties do end up with him leaving with some kind of grudge, the effort is there.

[seraaphism]

post s2 pds!

rambling under the cut :)

i like to imagine vyncent looks more and more like a summer camp counselor the longer hes on prime so thats what i was aiming for here lol but he IS constantly prepared to pull his knife out on anyone! and carries it with him everywhete + has other weapons in discreet places. he has a lot of random magical objects and things in his bag and pockets. i also imagine he wears a lot of jewelry from fauna.

dakota is dakota but a lot more casual than what i imagine he wears in season 2. he'd likely wear actual pants when doin hero things tho, but when hes js chillin its full adam sandler mode. baggy shirts and shorts ALL THE WAY for this guy

i feel like williams body changed a lot after being revived. like yeah the hair but i also like to imagine that he has blue wispy scars showing all of the ways he died in the past (including the surgery probably. plus i hc he has autopsy scars but ANYWAY). after deadwood he probably threw out that duffel bag and uses his backpack for all of his ghosty tools now! and soends most of his time travelling between their base and the whispering woods so he has a pretty versatile fit. the smart watch is just so he doesnt have to pull out his phone if hes doin mystery stealth things yk.

and i didnt draw ashe but i WILL!

[igotanidea]

Teachable student : J.T x fem!reader

Summary: The idea for the story was here.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!, insecurities, sex talk, mentions of trauma

special thanks go to @gone-batty-fics, @lightwing-s, @elimonia @geekynerdfinallyhada-name and @dolliezxo for giving me a piece of their mind on the matter :D

***

„I’m sorry” he whispered, being at the verge of tears. Jason and Y/N were tangled in between the sheets their naked bodies pressed closed together but the situation they found themselves in was far from intimate and blissful.

He was trying. He really was trying to control himself this time. To hold his own excitement back, to take care of her first, but he just couldn’t. He came early without taking her pleasure into any consideration. He simply couldn’t please her. And now, he was lying on his back, completely naked, embarrassed, ashamed, unable to even glance at his unsatisfied girlfriend, who, despite everything, put her head on his chest in a trusting, loving motion.

Jason literally felt like crying, but settled on staring at the ceiling, his body turning numb. This was not how it was supposed to go. Not this time.

“I’m sorry” he repeated, hiding his face in hands to cover that stupid reddened cheeks and teary eyes.

“Hey…..” she soothed him, tracing gentle patterns all over his chest, careful not to prickle the autopsy scar “It’s ok, Jaybrid. I’m ok. You’re ok. It’s all fine.”

“The hell it is!” He yelled and the sudden movement made his chest rise and Y/N jumped with it “It’s not” he said again sighing deeply, a bit calmer, but still sad “I’m.. I’m supposed to…..”

“You’re not supposed to anything, Jace” she propped herself on the elbow and cupped his cheek and he immediately leaned into her  touch “if I can make you feel this good, it’s a compliment for me, truly.” Her smile could literally light up the whole room, and Jason was sure he did not deserve her. Her love, her care, her attention “I love you, Jay. Besides, it’s not like it happened the first….”

“WHAT?!” Now he jolted up, eyeing her with the most hurt gaze imaginable.

“Fuck….” She hissed, cursing her stupid big mouth.

“You’ve never….? I’ve never…..? Like…. never?”  he stuttered “Holy fuck…..” Jason broke free of her touch and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her, shoulders slouched.

“Jason…..” her voice broke a little as she tried to come closer to him. “Please….” Her warm hand landed on his shoulder from behind, massaging the tensed muscles here and he shuddered under that simple gesture.

“I’m a fuckup.” He mumbled, not turning around to face her. He just couldn’t.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuck! Of course I am!” he spun around, making her hand drop, eyeing her with a mix of fury, desperation and animal hunger. How was it even possible that he always wanted her, was always hard for her, yet never could make her come. HOW?! “Princess, I am a failure.”

“That is bullshit!”

“Really?” he smiled sadly “Bet it never happened to Grayson.”

“Jason.” she sighed “I don’t give a fuck about Dick. I don’t even give a fuck about orgasm, all right? I care about you.”

“And I let you down. Fuck, I’m used to hating myself on so many levels, but this? This is a whole new one. I don’t think I can ever recover from it.”

“You are being awfully dramatic now.”

“Am I?” he scoffed “Just because I want to make you feel good?”

“You do, Jason. I promise I do feel good with you. Sex is not the only thing….”

“But it’s important. How can I know you….. you’re not gonna leave me because I…. because I can’t…..”

“Stop it, Jace. I’m serious, stop it now. Just come here” she patted a spot next to her, motioning him to lay down “I know how hard it is for you, and I want you to know I’m glad you open up to me. I’m not leaving, all right? Not now, not ever. We can work through this. But don’t  close up on me. Don’t get lost in that head of yours. You hear me?” he muttered something incoherent, but it was enough. “Good. Now, just hold me like this” she snuggled closer to him and felt his arms wrap around her. “I gotta get to work soon.”

***

It’s been a hell of a strange day at work. Somewhere around nine she got a first text from Jason.

J: How are you feeling?

Y/N: Exhausted. It’s a hectic day. Too much to do.

J: That is not what I meant.

Y/N: Are we back on this whole sex thing again?

J: I told you. I can never get over it.

Y/N: And I told you it’s ok.

J: Y/n, baby, I am so sorry.

Y/N: Jason, seriously, stop it. 

J: I’m sorry…… I won’t bother you anymore.

Y/N: That’s not what I meant!

               Read

A couple hours later, all the workers in the office noticed a courier, walking through, carrying the biggest lilac bouquet anyone ever seen.

“Miss Y/N Y/L/N?” the guy asked and Y/n raised her shaking hand. What was happening.

“That’s one for you. Where should I put the rest?”

“The…. The rest?”

“Yes. I got a whole van filled with flowers for you.”

“But….  But…..”

“I would read the scribble if I were you.”

“Oh, yes, right!” her eyes went wide as she reached for the piece of paper hidden between the flowers.

I know it does not make me less guilty, but hopefully this will make you smile today.

“A secret admirer?” one of her work friends peeked behind Y/N shoulder and the girl quickly covered the sentence

“more like not-so-secret , self-conscious boyfriend.”

“ Oh, that is just so cute!” the other girl, inhaled the lilac “if you don’t want them I’ll take it. I have no idea what he did to try to make up for it in such way, but …..”

“that’s the whole point” Y/N sighed “he did absolutely nothing wrong.

***

Those little signs of affection and apologies followed Y/N for the whole day and she quickly realized that there was only one way to make Jason feel better. On the way from work she dropped by in a very specific shop and bought  a little thing for the evening. Hopefully this will do the trick.

Luckily, when she entered the apartment Jason was nowhere in sight so she had some time for a quick preparation.

***

This day was a shit, to say the least. Despite all her assurances and smiles and jokes, he felt like a scumbag. What kind of man does that to his girl. That, in this case, being leaving her high and dry. He tried everything to make up for it, but still felt the regret and shame burning inside. What was even worse, now that he learned he failed every time they had sex, trauma was heading his way with a speed of light. He was starting to get worried that getting intimate with Y/n would turn to be impossible with the knowledge he had.

For the last hour he was walking around the streets, kicking every stone on his way, throwing glances left and right, acting like a Red hood without a helmet, rather than like Jason Todd. But at some point, he had to go back to apartment. It was slowly getting dark, and he did not want Y/n to worry about him more than usual. She knew about his night work, but the ritual was to at least kiss her goodbye and promise to come back to her in one piece. He just couldn’t skip that. Not after everything.

The second he opened the door, he knew something was off. Maybe it was the darkness or silence or that weird smell, but his instincts made him shut up, instead of calling her name and walk silently into the bedroom.

He did not expect the view that came into his eyes.

Y/N was spread in the middle of the bed in some new red, lacy lingerie that covered barely anything, surrounded only by the scented candles, the light coming from them making her look like a sex goddess. Jason’s felt his mouth going bone dry and his pants getting tight.

“Jason…..” she moaned tentatively, making him shiver in lust “what took you so long?” fuck, she knew exactly what she was doing to him now, turning him hot and needy.

“I….. I….”

“Come to me.” She order and almost like hypnotized he approached the bed, sitting on the edge “Closer, you silly one. I need you.” she reached toward him and he hovered over her body, lips almost touching

“Baby….” He whimpered “I don’t…. I can’t …..”

“Shh….” She put a finger on his mouth “I’ll teach you. I’ll show you everything you need to know, but first….” her fingers started playing with the hem of his jacket and t-shirt “take it off for me baby. You are seriously overdressed.”

Jason wasn’t even trying to hide his desperation when he discarded all his clothes except the boxers. Needing her, wanting her, craving her, ready to do everything  she would ask of him. His single purpose to please her, to love her right.

“what do you need me to do?” he whispered, his breath fanning over her face and she smiled mischievously.

“Kiss me.” She commanded and damn, he followed her lead, grabbing her waist, touching that smooth skin, playing with the string of her red underwear, causing her body to melt into him immediately. Her hands travelled to his back, one tangling in his hair, the other resting on his shoulder blade, pressing him closer. “Now, lower, baby.” He pushed his head towards her neck and collarbone whimpering in pleasure his soft lips caused her “Mhmmm, so good, Jace, you’re doing so good.”

“Am I?” he reached behind her back, searching for the zip of the bra but she just chuckled

‘Not there, baby.” Her fingers intertwined with his, guiding them forwards.

“Oh, you little tease….” He whined realizing her little game, exposing her breast and nibbling on the soft skin, causing shiver all over her body, her nipples pebbling instantly.

“Jason….” she arched her back to him “Please….”

“Tell me what you need, princess. I’ll do anything you want, I want to make you feel good, just tell me how.”

“Lower…..” once again she pushed his head towards her belly “mhmm, lower.”

“Here?” he brushed his index finger on her panty line.

“Take those off.” She whined “Now!”

“Whatever you command me, princess.”  He didn’t just take them off. He completely ripped them apart.

“HEY! Those were expensive.”

“I’ll buy a dozen new of those. Now tell me what to do next, and you better do it fast, cause I … I….” he stuttered, afraid he was going to fail her again, bad memories creeping in his mind.

“No.” she cupped his face, making him look at her “don’t think about it, focus on me.”

“Believe me, I do.”

“Good. Now let me take some action.” One of her hands travelled down his chest and stomach, reaching for the button of his jeans, slowly unzipping them and freeing his throbbing cock. “You’re so big and strong and all mine.” She raised her body a bit to connect their lips stroking him a couple times.

“Baby, please, I won’t hold it if….” He whined.

“You will, Jason. You will hold it, for me. I’m sure you can do it, baby. For me?”

“Yes. Yes, please, just let me inside.” He closed his eyes, focusing on not cumming too soon.

“I need you.” she spread her legs wider invitingly “come home to me. Come now.”

She was so wet it only took one swift motion for him to bottom out making them both moan at the feeling. No matter the result, Jason was so afraid of, being so close together always felt good, emotional and touching. Fuck, he wanted her so much. Wanted to make her feel good, but instead of moving just froze in place, completely paralyzed.

“Jay….” She whimpered under him, awaiting any action “Please, move.”

“I….”

“I’ll guide you.” she whispered, grabbing onto his shoulders and bucking her hips into him, slowly at first, just to make sure of the right angle, helping him out for a moment before he caught up on what and where she needed. “Yes, yes, mhm, that’s it. Just like that. AH!” her hips raised involuntarily when he hit her g-spot “That;s it, Jason! There you, baby” she clawed on his back, leaving red marks and that stinging pain only spur him on more.

“Does this feel good?” he groaned kissing her hungrily, emotions and sensations overflowing him “Am I making you feel good?”

“Ah, yes, yes! So good! Jace…..”

“Better than before?” some crazy instinct made him put his hand on her clit and started stimulating her there, feeling her body slowly give in to everything he was doing.

“Better than ever.”

“Are you close?” he picked up the pace, feeling his own orgasm coming, a bit of fear showing up in his head “please, tell me you are close.” His thrust became harsher, faster, deeper, hitting her most sensitive part every time, her answers limited to loud moans of his name and those sexy whimpers as she started moving with him.

“Oh.. Jace… I ….” She didn’t even get to finish when her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave with the force neither Jason nor her were expecting. Maybe it was the first time charm or maybe he was just that good and just discovered all his potential but Y/N was completely spend, clinging onto him, her hands and legs wrapping around his toned body, not ready to let him go yet.  Not until he rode her high with her. Not until she felt him coming inside her.  Which was not really long after.

“Jason….” she panted when they both came down “God, thank you.”

“No, thank you baby.’ He kissed her deeply, lovingly, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes glistening with happiness “did I really made you come? Was I good?”

“The best. It turns out you are a very teachable student.” She smiled

“I had the best teacher.”

“Oh, babe, I have a lot more to teach you.”

“Do you want to start those private lessons now?” he smirked and she could not find any reason why not.

[ivysangel]

thinking about the inverse of the back tattoo ask, like seeing jason without his shirt on for the first time and immediately folding 😭 not even tattoos or anything but his scars, spread all over his back like constellations. and the autopsy scar on his chest?? it takes so much willpower to not stare. and to not think about how good his back would look with scratch marks on it :)

(and in the friends to lovers au? like both of you just avoiding looking at each other for too long and stumbling around like idiots. sorry the tension just makes it sm better!!!)

my nails are a cheese grater and his back is the cheese. no but seriously. (for context)

i feel like you'd definitely see jason shirtless before he sees you shirtless. so he's thinking about your back tattoo, trying his hardest not to think about bending you over and leaving kisses on the permanent ink down your spine. meanwhile, YOU've been thinking about clawing at his back muscles and leaving fresh marks over some old ones. it's pretty sick really, the sexual tension between you two. it was one thing when it was just you trying to repress your feelings but the both of you ??? nuh uh, not gonna work. who do we think gives in first? i'm gonna say reader, bc if i was reader (which i am bc reader is reader and anyone can be reader) then i'm jumping his bones first chance i get.

also imagine inquiring about his scars (because you're actually curious but also) as an excuse to see him shirtless. you point at each one asking how got them, where they came from. some from his robin days, some from the league of assasins, some from dying *cough* autopsy scar *cough*. i think he might do the same to you, clears his throat and goes, "i uh, i didn't know you had a tattoo." BOOM. excuse for you to show it off, excuse for him to see it again, excuse for y'all to fuck.

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 42 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Fucking hell im sobbing, this is it, the last chapter! Thank you everyone for sticking along with me you are all amazing! I'm so sad this is finished, I feel kinda lost without Em and Don. I'm so sad but also wow I wrote and finished a whole story that's impressive for me. LOVE YOU ALL!!!

For the last time ever, this is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut, @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92, @lucyfromtheoldhouse, @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy, @saintmalosunsets, @anaso12 anyone else please let me know.

Time stood still for a split second before the clock ticked forward again. I stood exactly where I had left, my items I had dropped when I was struggling to free myself from the shimmer still laid perfectly where they had landed many months ago. 

I whipped around but all that greeted me was the dark street. 

No shimmer. 

No Don. 

It was as if I was on autopilot, I gathered my belongings into my arms and made my way back to my apartment. I fumbled with my keys before slotting them into the lock and twisting open the door. 

I placed my keys down on the bench with the rest of my belongings before trudging to the bathroom. There in the mirror stood a girl I hardly recognised. 

Her hair was windswept and unkempt, her face was blotchy and red, she wore an army uniform from the 40’s. 

She was out of place and lost. 

Shedding my clothes I stepped into the shower. Unlike before I was more aware of the damage on my skin. Cuts and bruises scattered my arms and legs. Scars and faded injuries covered me from head to toe. The last time I was in this shower I had been a different person. 

I washed myself until my skin turned red from the heat of the water and the scrubbing from my hands. 

Walking to my room, I slumped down in my bed and shut my eyes wishing to never wake again. 

—------------------------------------

The months flew by, I did my best to heal what was broken. I had promised myself that when I retired I would live life to the fullest, if not for me, for Don. 

I threw myself back into my studies, working hard towards my degree. It seemed to be the only thing that could distract me. I also went to therapy, I didn’t speak about the war I had lived through, it would’ve been too hard to explain, also maybe slightly crazy. 

We spoke mostly about the attack that had happened the night before I had left, it impacted me in more ways than I thought, it had closed me off to everyone again. 

My therapist encouraged me to form more bonds and have people in my life who I could trust. But it felt wrong trying to find people to fill the void of the ones I had left behind. So I kept to myself. 

I had tried my hardest to forget and move forward, I didn’t want to linger on the what if’s but the urge was too strong. I would spend weeks in the library scouring World War II books and reports, trying to find the names of the men I had lost. 

But the odd thing was that there was always a 101st Airborne, always an Easy company, but never the names of the men I had served with. 

They appeared to take the same course of action, the events that happened to us, had happened to them. But the men pictured and named were not my Easy men. 

It drove me to the point of insanity. I rushed home and dug all of the things I had brought back with me from the back of my closet. Just to ensure that it had happened, that I didn’t just imagine it all. 

Sitting on the floor surrounded by the items I had stowed away. My uniform, medic bag and phone all were proof that it was real. 

The medic bag sat unopened. I hadn’t been through it at all since I had arrived back. I sat gnawing on my lip, did I open it or not? 

“Fuck it.” I muttered, leaning forward and unbuckling the clasps that held it shut. I pulled it closer, sitting the bag on my lap. 

My fingers brushed over an unfamiliar material, I thought I knew exactly what I had brought back but this felt different. I hastily dragged the item from the bag. 

A gasp left my lips and tears almost immediately streaked down my face. My thumb brushed over the metal, Donald G. Malarkey. It was his dog tag. He had somehow snuck it into my bag and didn’t tell me. 

I could feel rough metal on the other side of the smooth metal. I flipped it over to find, ‘My Love, forever’. The words had been scratched into the back of the tag, Don had done it. I knew his hand writing anywhere. 

Clutching the thin piece of metal to my chest I rocked myself back and forward as I sobbed. It was the closest I was ever going to feel to him ever again. The thought that he wore this so close to his heart for all the time we had been together made me cry even harder. 

I upturned the bag letting the contents spill onto the floor, I rummaged through the belongings like a mad woman. 

Was there anything else he had put in?  

A paper I didn’t recognise was hidden under bandages, I hastily pushed everything else aside grabbing the paper as if it was going to disappear.  

I shook as I stroked my fingers along the unopened parchment that had been folded in half. His scrawly handwriting grace the blank paper. 

‘To Em.’

A shaky breath left my lips as I slowly unfolded the letter. My heart smashed against my ribcage but it felt nice to feel again, even if it was just pain. I had been so numb on autopilot. I couldn’t wait anymore, I needed to know what he had written. 

 My beloved Em,

I don’t know when you are reading this, but I hope that you are well. Know that I miss you dearly, and that I think of you always. 

I write this now after you had left to go and say your goodbyes. 

It took me a while to understand, but I do now. I know you inside and out, I know you as kind and gentle. You only want to share your love and happiness. 

You made the brave decision to give up everything so that we might have a chance to live and be free. You have made a sacrifice I never think I could do, and for that I admire you dearly, Em. You’re so courageous, your heart is unshakable. 

That is why I love you. Your soul is pure and good. I love your being and essence and everything that makes you, you. 

I love the way your curls fall into your face when you laugh, and the way your eyes crinkle at the sides when you smile. I will miss the sound of your melodic voice, and soft lips. I’ll miss the way you tell stories and the hugs you give. I miss you even now, when I know you’re only mere metres away. 

There will not be a day that will go by that you won’t be on my mind. Sleeping or awake you will forever be at the forefront of my thoughts. When I am sad, happy, excited, depressed, lonely, or content I wish to only share my thoughts with you. I will never not talk about you, your name will forever be on my lips.   

I hope you have found my small gift, and that you hold it close to your heart and think of me. 

Know that I am well Em. 

I am content with your decision. I will live for you. 

I hope you do the same, I hope you reach all of your dreams. 

There’s a quote I love, “missing someone is your heart’s way of telling you that you love them.” 

I miss you more than life itself, so I’ll love you for infinity. May my love for you reach you in your time now and you feel me wrapping myself around you now. I wish I had a photo of you, it scares me that I might forget your face. 

But the men and I will keep you alive in our memories, I will share every story I have of you. I will go home and tell everyone that I was going to be wed to the most beautiful girl in the land but she made a decision that let us be here today, and in turn she couldn’t stay.  

Please Em, my only wish is for you to be happy. Surround yourself with people who love you like we loved you. I need to know that you are being loved and cared for.

I don’t want to finish this letter, I wish I could write you pages and pages and fill them with the love I have for you, but alas there are not enough words in the universe that could perfectly summarise my feelings for you. But I will leave you with this poem.

I will love you as long as the sun burns in the sky,

As long as the moon shines its light into the dark night, 

Until the raging blue oceans become calm and run dry. 

I will love you until the end of time. 

With all my love, I hope to find you again. I will wait for you in every lifetime. 

Donald Malarkey, your one true love now and forever. 

The sobs that left my mouth were short and sharp as I struggled to intake air. My tears landed on the paper as I clutched it to my chest. I had read the words over and over again, I could hear his voice in the writing. 

After my sobs had subsided I continued to search through the contents of the bag. A flash of metal caught my attention. A dry chuckle left my throat, Speirs’ lighter lay amongst my belongings. His initials were carved into the metal, it didn’t come with a note, but the act alone was heartbreaking. It was Ron’s trusty lighter, one that he didn’t part with easily, but still he had slipped it into my bag for me to have to remember him by. 

I woke up the next morning on the floor of my room surrounded by memories. I slipped Don’s tag around my neck and tucked it into my shirt. Just when I was losing faith they had given me the motivation to live again. 

So I did just that. I opened myself up again, I graduated and started a new job as a full time nurse. I did as they had asked and surrounded myself with people who loved and cared for me. But no one could ever take Don’s place, that part of my heart was tightly locked which he only had the key to. 

A year passed and the hurt lessened. Never did they leave my thoughts, the amount of times I went to share stories only to bite my tongue. But I wrote them all down in my diary to ensure that the memories I had of them were never forgotten. 

—--------------------------------

“Hey Em, patient in room 12 is wanting to speak to you.” Izzy, the nurse I had befriended when I had started, peered her head into the nurses office. 

“Sure.” I smiled brightly at her, getting up from the notes I was finishing. I made my way to the room, assisting the patient to unhook from the fluids they were getting so that they could go to the toilet. 

“Em!” I heard from behind me. I sat the patient back down on their bed as we had made our way back from the bathroom. 

“Yeah?” I turned to see an excitable Izzy. 

“The girls and I were going to go out for dinner tonight. Come!” It was a Friday for the group and  everyone seemed to be very thrilled for the weekend. 

“Um…” I teasingly thought about the offer. The brunette didn’t let me think long, rushing into the room to slap me on the shoulder. 

“You’re coming!” She tugged gently at my arm. 

“Says who?” I wound her up more. I had befriended her as she had reminded me of George. She was bright and funny, always with a big smile on her face. We had both started at the same time and bonded over being ‘new and dumb’, we joked. It was easy to make friends with her, it was as if they had known each other in a past life. 

“Emily Lane!” She full named me, causing me to giggle. 

“Shall I pick you up?” I asked as I sauntered away. 

“AHHHH!” Izzy squealed in delight, running after me to pounce on my back. “We are going to have so much fun!” 

I never picked up Izzy, she had followed me home. Demanding we got ready together. I watched her dance around the room singing into the hairbrush she had found lying around. She looked insane having half of her eye makeup on as she sung poorly into the makeshift microphone. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Izzy bowed to the non-existent crowd taking in her applause. 

We finished our makeup, mucking around wasting time we didn’t have doing a fashion show, which was basically Izzy prancing around like an idiot and me curled over in hysterics. 

“If you keep going not only are we going to be so late, my makeup is going to be ruined!” I chucked a pillow from the couch at her head. 

Finally we made it to dinner only ten minutes late. We shared good food and stories around the table. I smiled, glancing around the table at the people who were in my life. Don would’ve been proud of me. 

Izzy squeezed my hand from under the table as she lent her head on my shoulder. “I have a surprise and you can’t say no.” 

I pretended to be mad at her but the smile stuck to my lips as she fluttered her eyelashes at me. 

“What is it?” I asked, a huge grin broke onto her face. 

“Karaoke!” She cheered as did the rest of the table. “You have to come, I’ve invited some of my friends too.” Izzy elbowed me in the side. 

The older nurses with children and earlier bedtimes left, leaving the younger nurses with more energy to do karaoke. Izzy’s friends slowly trickled in joining us in our fun night out. All of them were lovely and so funny. I wiped the tears that leaked from my eyes as Izzy and Lyla sang a duet together, they were so off pitch but that didn’t stop them. 

They plonked down next to me out of breath. “Your turn!” The girls pushed me from my seat. I looked back into the crowd and they smiled excitedly up at me. I picked a random song.  

Stay by Rihanna played out from the speakers. I sang along as the group cheered and whooped. I didn’t care if I sounded bad. I sang loudly as I waved my hand in the air. 

The room door swung open and I lost my words. There in the doorway was a face that I couldn't forget. 

“SING!!” Lyla cheered. But I couldn’t, nothing worked, my mouth hung open and tears filled my eyes. 

I watched Izzy jump up from her seat and dragged the person into the room. 

“Em!” She ran towards me with the person in tow. “This is my friend, Don.” 

It was him, head to toe, he looked exactly like my Don. 

“Pleased to meet you, Izzy has told me a lot about you.” The man stuck out his hand for me to shake but I was still so frazzled. His voice was exactly the same. I blinked, pinching my leg to make sure I wasn’t in some weird dream. 

“Are you alright, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” The modern Don tilted his head in concern. 

“I’m fine.” I uttered out in shock, I politely shook his hand, almost melting at his touch. It was the same. Had he come back to me? 

“Have we met before? You just seem familiar.” He asked. Izzy stood between us as we stared at with a confused look on her face. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” She departed the conversation, leaving us staring at each other with our hands still connected.   

“Do you want to come to the bar with me? It's a bit loud here.” He asked, never taking his hand from mine. I nodded, my mouth still hung open. 

We left the small karaoke room we occupied and made our way back over to the main bar. 

“So do we know each other?” Don asked again. 

“No we don’t.” I shook my head. 

“Well I want to change that.” His smile grew wide as he stepped closer to me. “I don’t know why but you feel important.” 

And at the moment I knew everything was going to be ok. 

Because he had found me again.

Just like he had promised. 

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

THE END!