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Can’t stop thinking about Willy’s proposition to the teens. They’re free to go but where?
Back to the place so lovingly crafted by a devoted mother to accommodate for a lack of a father?
Back to the place that once held so much love and strife, the place that reliably held a girl’s mother and best friend only to now hold nothing but a safe left in her name by her stepfather?
To a ruined plot of land, now full of ash and burnt reminders of a presence that will never return?
To a place that once held a child’s whole world?
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jawbone & adaines (especially s1) are so fucking funny dude like imagine you as a 14 year old meet a drug dealer/bouncer at a club, he attacks you after being driven into a frenzy but apologizes after the fight is over and he's back in control and when he says he doesn't have insurance to deal with his issues you tip him off about the guidence counceler position at your school and he gets it and goes into it so hard he's the best therapist in town. then he shows up again when there's a dragon trying to destroy the world and talks you out of a both magically induced but natural for you panic attack and gives you drugs before helping you and your friends fight said dragon, and he later takes you in and legally adopts you, congrats on the new dad.
also he's a werewolf but not the full moon kind he's just permanently a dog man.
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Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Ace the Bat-Hound (DCU)
Additional Tags: Mentioned Alfred Pennyworth, Mentioned Catherine Todd, Whumptober 2023, Hurt/Comfort, Infection, Young Jason Todd, he's not Robin yet, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, he is sooo awkward, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Good Dog Ace the Bat-Hound (DCU), Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence
Series: Part 18 of Whumptober 2023
Jason Todd swung a tire iron at Batman and now he's living in some billionaire's mansion. Go figure. He's still not sure if he can trust Bruce Wayne. But Jason does know how to take care of himself and the cut on his leg that's looking worse each day. He doesn't need any help...right?
Whumptober Day 13
Peeling the bandage off stung.
Jason barely swallowed his hiss as the adhesive pulled at his skin and the fine hairs on his calf. An angry red wound greeted him with no scabs in sight.
Shit. Shit. He didn’t need a stupid doctor to know this was bad. Jason buried his hands in his hair. If only he didn’t try and take that shortcut through the warehouse days ago. If only he’d left his flashlight on for a second longer and saw the jagged edge of metal sticking out. If only it wasn’t covered in rust and other unknown shit. What could he do now? What about washing it with soap? Would that help it heal or was it too late? Maybe pouring vodka on it? Some people (aka gang members he spied on once) did that in the Narrows. But where would he find any liquor? Shit, Mom would’ve known what to do.
Jason chewed on his lip. He could...he could try telling his new guardian. Bruce Wayne talked a good game about wanting to take care of him. But he was a billionaire. And Jason was a street kid who got caught boosting a vigilante’s tires then tried to brain him with a tire iron. This had to be one big practical joke. And if it wasn’t, being a pest the first week was a surefire way to land his ass back out on the streets or in a worse foster home.
Jason started digging through the cabinets in his (his!!) new fancy and fully stocked bathroom. There. Rubbing alcohol and another big band aid. He straddled the edge of the porcelain tub with his injured leg inside, stuffed the collar of his shirt into his mouth, and opened the bottle. His hand shook as he slowly tilted it, heart slamming so hard it made his shirt quiver. The anticipation was killing him. Fuck it. Closing his eyes, Jason tipped the entire bottle over, for once not caring how wasteful it was.
Fire blazed through his leg, stabbing straight into the bone itself. Tears fell from his screwed shut eyes and he bit down hard on the shirt to muffle his scream. The short but deep cut pulsed as he struggled to open the band aid and put it on with trembling fingers. The bathroom reeked of alcohol, leaving him lightheaded and dizzy with anxiety inducing memories. Jason turned on the bathtub and dumped a generous amount of body wash in, rinsing away evidence and flooding his nose with lemon...verbena? What the hell was that?
At least the throbbing was fading when he crawled into the giant four poster bed a few minutes later. See, Batman? He wouldn’t have to tell Bruce after all. Jason Todd could take care of himself.
[Continue Reading on AO3]
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my great auntie barbara has been a widow for almost 10 years now. uncle jack died in summer 2014. and with my grandfather gone she's without her only brother too. today was the wake for my grandfather and she looked absolutely beautiful, i told her as much, she was the best-dressed lady there. and it's been almost three years since my grandmother died and you could tell there was a different understanding between her and my grandfather whenever they got together. it became more necessary to invite barbara to extended-family events when her husband died, but after grammy died it was just about mandatory. there was just something about the two of them sitting together, brother and sister, in their 90s having lost their life partners, but sitting with the only other person left that they had known for as long, no, even longer. as far back as they could each remember. they both looked like they were in the company of their favorite living person. so it was hard to see her at the wake although she looked beautiful and she always does; she has a wonderful smile. it must be hard to be the last survivor of your generation. i just hope she goes home and she has something that makes her feel not so lonely.
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