#as soon as jason hears this he reevaluates his whole plan

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Jason: Batman's methods are inefficient and short-sighted. Therefore, I have decided to kill.

Tim: Whoa, slow down there, RoboCop.

Jason: Excuse me?

Tim: Listen, you're my brother, and I love you, but you're starting to sound a lot like the cops who put Punisher stickers on their cruisers.

Jason: ...shut up.

[thepartyresponsible]

this fill is for @rozword and @hargreeeves who both asked for frank castle/jason todd and whose prompts happened to work well together. so here’s the first half of a two-part no superheroes au, in which jason is not red hood and has never been robin, but he’s still getting into fights in alleys. the prompt for this one is: "are you leaving?"

warnings for some canon-typical violence and also some canon-typical bad medical decisions.

                                                         ---

Jason wakes up on a couch that isn’t his, in a house he doesn’t know, with a dog he’s never met curled up next to him. There’s also something wrong with his face and temple and entire skull region, but he’s not surprised by that, given the facts of the situation.

“Fuck’s sake, Rex,” he says, patting the dog on the head. “Why didn’t you cut me off before I drank the entire bar?”

The dog whines softly and nudges Jason’s chin with its nose. The lick to the face that follows isn’t especially upsetting on its own, but Jason’s instinctive flinch sets off an entire New Years Eve of fireworks behind his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he says, swinging his legs off the couch and accidentally dumping the dog to the floor. When he brings his hand up to the side of his head, he touches something rough and tender, a fresh scab over one hell of a swollen bruise.

He reevaluates the dizzy, nauseated feeling in his stomach. He considers the fact that he isn’t wearing a shirt. He investigates the couch, staring pensively at the smears of dried blood that indicate he was still bleeding a little when he passed out.

His boots are sitting neatly by the side of the couch, socks folded and placed on top. His wallet’s there, too, although his phone is missing. He’s still wearing his jeans.

He cuts his loses, shoving his feet into the boots, his socks into one pocket, and his wallet into the other. After a brief internal pep talk for his stomach and his head, he heaves himself into something approximating a standing position and starts maneuvering his way toward the door.

It’s not so bad, really. If he keeps moving, he almost doesn’t notice the way the floor kinda sways under his feet.

He has his hand on the doorknob when he hears it. A soft shift behind him, the creak of wooden furniture, and then a voice, quiet, clear, deep: “Are you leaving?”

Jason turns his whole body to see. He has no plans to try turning his head again any time soon.

There’s a man across the room, sitting in a sunlit breakfast nook, coffee mug in hand, staring at Jason with what Jason chooses to optimistically classify as resting murder face.

“Uh,” Jason says, fumbling with the stubborn door, putting a bit of weight behind his attempts to get through it. “Yeah. Had a great time.  Five stars. Thanks. Maybe next time, when someone says ‘fuck my brains out,’ consider the possibility that they didn’t mean it literally.”

The man’s dark eyebrows pull together. “I didn’t--- that’s not.” He sets the mug down and frowns at him, which is a revelation to Jason, who’d been under the impression that he’d been frowning the entire time. “I didn’t fuck your brains out.”

“Yeah, not for lack of trying,” Jason says. “What the hell even happened? Did I take a headboard to the temporal lobe and you just dumped me out here and hoped for the best? What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with this door?”

“Deadbolt’s locked,” the man says. “And you’re concussed. You’ve been having a lot of trouble with doors.”

Jason finds the deadbolt and shoves it open. “Thank God,” he says.

“That isn’t gonna help you,” the man says.

“Could you sound more like a serial killer please?” Jason asks. “Really. When I relay this story to my friends, I want at least one of them to actually piss themselves.”

The man blinks and shifts back a bit, like he’s trying – from clear across this wide open room – to give Jason more space. “That’s the door to the backyard,” he says.

“Oh,” Jason says. He pushes the door open anyway and stares in bleak resignation at the six-foot fence. “I can jump that,” he says. Just to be clear.

“Yeah, I know you can,” the man says. “I saw you fight yesterday.”

Jason blinks. Now that he’s said it, there is some kind of memory there. Vague, half-formed. When Jason focuses on it, it waves and fades like breath in the winter. “There was a fight?”

The man looks uncomfortable now, glares down at his coffee for a second. “Yeah. You and a few guys. I was walking by. Heard some noises. Some yelling.”

It’s the word yell that does it. Summons a clip of memory out of the inky black swamp of last night. Jason, picking himself up off the ground, blood in his eyes. Shaking his head, blinking, and then catching, in the corner of his vision, this guy taking a brick out of someone’s hand and then breaking that arm, neat and fast. The snap, and then the scream.

“You broke someone’s arm,” Jason says.

“Well,” he says, sinking deeper into the chair, taking a sip of his coffee like he thinks it’s gonna somehow hide his face. “Like I said, there was a fight.”

Jason closes the door and turns back around. He takes a few steps closer to breakfast nook. He can’t for the life of him remember what the hell he was fighting about, but he figures it was probably worth it. He doesn’t get in that many fights anymore. He is learning, slowly, to pick his battles.

“So there was a fight,” Jason says, “and then, what? You were like ‘that’s hot, better bring that guy home?’”

He frowns. “Not like—I tried to call your friends for you, but you kept giving me the number for some pizza place.”

Jason does a quick mental check of the phone numbers he actually has memorized, and he begrudgingly admits that the top three are all fast food establishments. “Well, maybe I was hungry.”

He stares, deadpan and silent for a full beat. “Could be,” he admits. “You did throw up on my shoes.”

“And I’m not fucking sorry,” Jason says, even though he is. Also, somewhat mortified. “Was I giving you a bad number for 9-1-1, too?”

“No, but you had a lot of loud opinions about cops you really wanted to share. Figured it probably wouldn’t work out well if they showed up.”

Jason hasn’t fought a cop since high school. Again, he’s learning. But he’s willing to admit that some of his hard-won character growth might’ve temporarily vanished after the blow to the head.

“Coulda dropped me at a hospital,” Jason points out.

The man raises a single skeptical brow. “I tried.” He doesn’t elaborate, but the expression on his face indicates that the process of his attempt was not an especially pleasant one.

“So you brought me here,” Jason says, “and then--”

“Tried to clean you up a bit,” he says. “You didn’t like that. So I got you some water, and some ice. Checked on you a few times overnight. You didn’t like that either.”

Jason is starting to realize that maybe he’s been something of a nightmare and an asshole to this guy. “I bled on your couch,” he says, just so they can get everything out in the open.

“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “It’s not a great couch.”

Jason blinks at him. “You’re being really calm about this.”

He stares at him for a second and then drops his eyes to the table. After a moment, he shrugs again and looks up. “Combat vet,” he says. “Not the first or the worst head injury I’ve seen. Figured you’d be okay so long as you didn’t get confused and walk off a bridge. Or find another six guys to fight.”

“Six?” Jason asks. Jesus, he must’ve been really pissed about something. Or they were really pissed. Or they were mutually pissed at each other.

“Well, six when I got there,” he says. “Looked like maybe you’d already handled one of them.”

It occurs to Jason that, as shitty as this morning is and as bad as he feels, he’s probably supposed to feel a hell of a lot worse. Maybe he’s supposed to be dead right now.

“I’m Jason,” he says.

“Frank Castle,” the man says.

Jason gets another flash memory. Himself, banging his fist on a dashboard, yelling “Frankie says relax!” at a startled car of clubbers at a red light.

“Oh my God,” Jason says. Very carefully, he brings his hand up to his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t just throw me into traffic.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Frank says. “You only hit me once.”

Jason scans the patchwork quilt of memories he’s built so far. At no point does he remember hitting Frank. “When the hell was that?”

There’s a second where Frank seems to replay the night in his head, like even he’s having some difficulty tracking the madhouse funshow timeline of a concussed Jason. “You couldn’t get in the truck,” he says, finally. “It’s kinda high. You kept tripping on your boots. I was gonna help you. Got too close, I guess. So you elbowed me in the throat.”

“Right into traffic,” Jason repeats. “You coulda just…” He mimes picking up a body and hurling it into oncoming traffic.

“Nah,” he says. “Once you were done swearing at me, you were actually really sweet about it.”

Jason trudges the rest of the way across the room and slumps into the chair opposite Frank. He figures, at this point, he’s given Frank cause and opportunity to murder him. If Frank passed on his chance, he’s probably not interested.

“No sign of my phone?” he asks.

“Oh, found signs,” Frank says. “Looks like you broke it on somebody’s teeth.”

Jason sighs. “Goddamn it.”

“Can use mine,” Frank offers. He slides it across the table to Jason, all his motions so slow and measured that they don’t even make Jason feel seasick when he follows them. “If you can remember any number that isn’t for pizza.”

If Jason focuses past the ache in his head, he can remember Roy’s number. And Dick’s, too, although he’s really hoping it won’t come to that.

Jason picks up the unlocked phone and navigates to the call screen. “Thanks,” he says. “For not killing me. Or letting me be killed.”

Frank looks at him like he has no idea what to do with that. After a second, he stands up. “You want some coffee?”

“God,” he says. “Please, yes. Absolutely. And, like. Seventeen Advil.”

“Three Tylenol,” Frank says. “And you gotta eat toast.”

“Stop trying to save my life, Frank,” Jason says. “I’ve got it from here.”

Frank blinks at him, long and slow, and Jason’s not sure he could look more dubious if he tried.

“Fine,” Jason says. “Three Tylenol and some toast. Sounds great.”

Frank nods and sets off into the kitchen. Jason watches him go, memories shifting and settling in his head of Frank’s hands on the side of his face, carefully tipping him toward a light that hurt. An ice pack pressed gently to his skin, someone taking off his boots.

“You can borrow a shirt,” Frank calls back over his shoulder. “When you go. Yours was ruined.”

“Okay,” Jason says. “Thanks.” The dog sidles up next to him, presses its nose right into his palm. He dials Roy’s number as he scratches behind its soft, floppy ears. “I’m gonna take your dog, too.”

Frank looks over at him, eyes dropping immediately to the dog at Jason’s side and then rising to Jason. That resting murder face is still firmly in place, but Jason’s starting to learn how to see behind it, and there’s something like a smile back there, hidden behind the serious set of his mouth and the furrow between his brows.

“No,” Frank says. “Sadie stays.”

“Relax, Frankie,” Jason says, and Frank full-on rolls his eyes in the single most decisive display of emotion Jason’s seen so far.

“Don’t start that again,” he says. “My neighbors already left a shitty note.”

Jason hopes like hell that all his memories come back. Because while it sounds like there are parts of last night he’s happy to lose, there are other parts he kinda wants back.

Frank does that thing again where he doesn’t quite smile, and Jason grins back at him for a second before his face reminds him that emotive facial expressions aren’t really a good idea right now. He grimaces, and Frank’s smile disappears.

He ducks into the kitchen, and Jason presses ‘Call.’

[helloalycia]

good news [one] // alycia debnam-carey

summary: you're alycia's roommate and hear about the news of her getting cast in The 100

warning/s: none.

two | three | masterlist

"–and it's important to make sure you don't forget this module! It's the one that ties everything together!"

Everyone, including myself, hummed in response to the professor's rant. It was the millionth time in thirty minutes that he'd mentioned how important this topic was to learn. There was no point in stopping him repeating himself though, he would just keep doing it.

"I don't want stragglers showing up at my–"

My heart hammered in my chest as I heard my phone ringing from my backpack at my feet. The professor stopped speaking and everyone's eyes looked to me judgementally. I smiled awkwardly and pulled my phone from my bag. I managed to catch a glimpse of my friend, Alycia's name on the screen, before silencing the call and my phone.

"I'm so sorry about that, oh my goodness," I blurted our nervously, looking to the annoyed professor. "Please, resume."

He gave me a knowing look before looking forward and continuing his rant about asking for help last minute. My heart rate returned to normal, though I was sure my cheeks were flaming with embarrassment. I hated how easily flustered I got in social situations and reminded myself to kill Alycia later on.

"I know you all must be tired of hearing the same old same old, but it's–"

The professor paused and narrowed his glare in my direction when my phone began to ring again. It was on silent, but I had forgotten I'd left it on vibrate. So my phone was vibrating against the wood of my desk and I felt like the whole of the world could bloody hear it.

"Oh my– I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't mean to– sorry," I rambled, cheeks growing warmer as I moved to silence my phone. It was Alycia again. I looked past the dozens of eyes and to my professor, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry, sir."

He pursed his lips and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, before resuming as usual. I sighed in relief and went to my phone to change my silent settings. I also took the moment to see what on Earth Alycia wanted right now.

Y/N: Dude, i'm in a lecture!! i thought i told you that! what is so important? 😩🤦🏻‍♀️

Aly 💐: I'm sorry omg i completely forgot! long story short, guesS WHO GOT AN ACTING ROLE ON A SCI-FI SHOW IN CANADA??

I screeched and almost dropped my phone as excitement took over me. Alycia got an acting role! She'd been auditioning for months now, but nothing was turning up. She hadn't lost hope and for good reason because she got a role!

"Miss Y/L/N! Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the hall?!"

I jumped, startled at my professor's booming voice. I looked up and my eyes widened when I realised I'd screamed out loud in response to Alycia's text. Oh, god, talk about awkward...

"Sir, I'm so sorry!" I apologised instantly, tossing my phone back into my bag. "I didn't mean to interrupt again! It's just, my friend has been auditioning for so many roles and I was worried nothing would turn up for her, but she got a role just now and it's amazing because she gets to go to Canada!"

My professor wasn't the slightest bit amused and I realised I'd rambled about my life story when he hadn't even asked. He raised his hand and pointed over his shoulder to the door behind him.

I pressed my lips together and breathed out through my nose. I nodded and began to pack my things away awkwardly. I tried to ignore everyone's eyes on me as I walked down the steps and out the hall. I'd have to catch up on someone's notes later or something.

When I left the hall, I searched for my phone, deciding to give Alycia a call. That was my last class for the day, so I guess I could actually get back to Alycia properly now.

"Y/N?!"

"Alycia!" I screamed down the phone, a massive grin on my lips, any previous embarrassment long gone. "Tell me everything!"

I heard her laughter down the phone and ignored the butterflies that swirled a storm in my stomach at the sound. Okay, I may have liked Alycia a little more than friends, but that didn't matter. I'd always pushed it away and it was going fine for me.

"I thought you were in your lecture, though?" she asked, and I could just imagine the confused frown on her lips, making me smile to myself.

I began my walk to the car park as I answered, "I kinda got kicked out for disrupting a few times."

"...That was my fault, wasn't it?"

I snickered. "A little bit, but it's okay. This is important. Now tell me what happened!"

She sighed before diving right in. "Okay, well, I got called to a meeting with my manager before and it was actually a meeting with creator of this show. It's called The 100, you heard of it?"

"Not really, but go on."

"It's some sci-fi show, I don't know, but a month or so ago, I auditioned for one of the characters they're introducing in their second season. Their creator, Jason Rothenburg, loved it! He said he wanted to hire me the same day, but it was only fair to give everyone a fair audition."

I gasped, a smile on my face. "Aly, that's amazing!"

"I know!" she exclaimed with excitement. "He hired me today and well, yeah! I'm going to be in season 2 of The 100!"

I got into my car as I said, "Gosh, I'm so proud of you, Alycia. I knew you'd find something sooner or later."

"Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot."

I smiled as I connected my phone to my car and started the engine. "Where are you now?"

There was some shuffling on her end before a door slammed shut. "Just got home now."

I nodded as I began to pull out of the car park. "Well, I'm on my way back now and we totally need to celebrate this, so what're you in the mood for? Takeout or a restaurant?"

"Y/N, you don't need to do that," she declined politely and I rolled my eyes.

"Aly, we know how this goes. I offer, you say no, I keep bugging you until you agree and we do something. So let's skip to the end where you tell me what you want."

Her laughter echoed into my car and the butterflies returned. Why did something as simple as her laugh make me feel so elated?

"Okay, I guess takeout would be nice," she reluctantly agreed.

"How does Chinese sound?"

"Perfect."

I grinned. "I'll see you soon, Aly. Food an' all."

"See you later."

"Congratulations again by the way. I can't wait to give you a giant hug!"

She chuckled. "I'm going now. Focus on driving, idiot!"

"Love you!"

"Love you, too!"

She hung up and a smile remained on my lips as I thought about the green-eyed girl waiting for me at home.

***

It was about half an hour later when I got home to Alycia and I's flat. I picked up the takeout, as promised, but I also went to pick up some balloons that had 'congratulations' written on them, and a large bouquet of flowers. I didn't have much time to plan anything major since I'd only just been told the good news, but I wanted to do something for her – she deserved it.

"Alycia? I'm home!" I called out as I managed to get the door open.

"I'm coming!" I heard her call back as I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter, along with the bags of food. "Was their traffic? You took a long– oh..." She walked out from her bedroom and waited by the couch, trying to overcome her surprise.

"Congratulations, darling!" I grinned, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and balloons in the other.

Her hands were raised, covering the grin on her lips. "Y/N..." She moved forward and I held out both things for her, but she ignored them and pulled me in for a hug instead.

"I thought it was me who promised to give you a giant hug," I teased, trying to distract from the fact that my cheeks were growing warm at the close contact. I made some attempt to return the hug, despite my hands being full.

"You didn't have to get me these," she complained in typical Alycia fashion, accepting the balloons, and her utmost favourite, the flowers. She was looking down at them with a grin as she added, "But I appreciate it so much."

I shrugged. "It's not as much as I would have liked to, but it will do for now."

She glanced up and I literally froze as she sent a dazzling smile my way; the kind that lit up her bright emeralds and made me reevaluate my whole existence.

"I'll go put these in a vase," she spoke, her smile still present and myself still frozen. "Thank you."

As she did that, I managed to snap back into reality and pull my coat and shoes off. By then, she had already brought the takeout to the couch and laid it out on the coffee table. I smiled at the sight, watching her pull her pyjama-clad legs up on the couch; her lower lip was jutted out with concentration as she made a plate for herself carefully. I would never get tired of the sight.

I joined her on the couch, too hungry to change before eating, and made myself a plate.

"So?! When do you start filming? What's your character? Details, Aly, I need details!" I urged, giving her my full attention.

She rolled her eyes playfully (and ever-so-adorably), saying, "Filming starts in less than a month. I fly over to Vancouver and it should last about three, four months, depending on availability of everything. I don't know the specifics, but Jason said he'll get back to me ASAP."

I beamed at her. "That sounds amazing!"

She mirrored my expression. "I know! And about my character, I'm not sure I can tell you. The whole thing is under wraps..."

I shook my head. "I haven't even seen the show. I'm sure I can keep the secret."

She laughed melodiously. "You gotta watch the show if you're gonna support me!"

It was my turn to laugh. "I'll binge watch the whole first season starting tomorrow. Swear."

She cocked her head to the side and watched me with a smile. "Cute." I hoped I didn't look as red as I felt. "All I know about my character is that she is some Commander. A leader of people. She's cold, ruthless and dangerous."

"So the complete opposite to you," I deadpanned.

"Pretty much, yeah," she agreed with a chuckle.

I sighed happily. "Gosh, this is just amazing. I'm so proud of you. Have you told your mum?"

Alycia nodded, pausing as she finished chewing her food. "I rang her earlier," she said after swallowing her food. "She was thrilled."

"As expected."

"Yeah." She smiled. "This is surreal."

I shook my head. "Nah, I knew it would happen."

"Yeah, but so soon?" she queried, looking bewildered. "I'm going to Vancouver in less than a month, Y/N!"

"That's so soon," I realised, before frowning. "How am I gonna last three months without you?" I gasped. "Is it too late to decline the role?"

She chuckled, knowing I was kidding. I was, but the implication was still true.

"We can spend the month together," she promised with an amused smile. "I'll slowly wean you off me so that when I leave, you won't even notice."

"Pfft," I pulled a face, "I'm gonna spend every second of this month with you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Really?" I nodded with confirmation. "What about university?"

"I'll work from home," I quipped.

Her expression didn't change. "And work?"

I looked around, thinking, before deciding, "I'll take you with me. I'm sure the diner won't mind an extra waitress."

Alycia giggled and played along. "Okay, what about when you need to use the bathroom, hm?"

I shrugged. "Easy. I'll hold your hand through the door."

She burst into laughter at this point, having to set her plate on the coffee table before she dropped it. I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I watched her laugh at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was. About her, but she didn't need to know that.

"Seriously, Y/N?"

I sighed and set my plate down, too, before moving to sit closer to her so I could hug her arm. "How do you expect me to survive when you're gone?"

She opened her mouth to speak, probably something feigning reassurance, but she eventually smirked and shrugged. "You're right, I do do a lot around here."

"Hey!"

She laughed and I sat up again, facing her.

"You'll be fine," she promised, her voice softer. "And you can ring me whenever you want. Everyday at least."

I smiled. "I like these conditions."

She rolled her eyes again, before shooting me a carefree smile. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, noticing she was no longer teasing anymore.

She gave me a knowing look as if I should understand. "For supporting me."

"You don't need to thank me for that, Aly," I told her. "But you're welcome anyway. It's the least I can do for having you as a friend."

A grin fell upon her lips and she met my eyes, the happiness sparkling in her own green-golden ones. God, she was so beautiful.