#pamela + guilt

[shallowseeker]

Wherein Cas has not just blinded Pamela...he's blinded Dean.

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is wing'd cupid painted blind." - William Shakespeare

///

(Flashback to Pamela's eyes being burned out) DEAN: (looks at Pamela, whose eyes are now pure white) You're blind? PAMELA: Yeah, I've been blind for a while. Thank Feathers here for that one. CASTIEL: That was -- Dean, that was an accident. ♪ And I'm searchin' for a rainbow ♪ SAM: Dean, she's not just blind. She's dead. Pamela died helping us. (Flashback to Pamela dying after being stabbed) DEAN: (back in the bar, Dean looks around and Pamela is gone) No. No, no, no, no. Guys, this is -- this is my life. This -- This is the dream. CASTIEL: No, no, it's not. It's just a dream, Dean. That's all it is.

[martyrbat]

the snow queen

prev. | pt. 2 | next

(ID below cut)

[ID: part two. We continue from where we left off:

They came to a stop, for a moment's rest. But something caught his eye - a demand for his attention. The Ice Queen tends to her reindeer as Batman looks at the luscious foliage growing in the barren land. He approaches it, finding a woman with long, red hair and dressed entirely in green residing within it. The narration continues, "You look lost," said the green woman. "Why are you here?" "We're looking for... someone," answered the Batman. "You'll find no one here, but you're free to look," she said.

"Do you like my garden?" asked the green woman. "It is beautiful," he replied. "Why not stay, so we can enjoy it together?" she offered. The Batman paused to consider. The garden was enchanting. A calming peace washed over him. And yet something felt off. "I sense you're troubled." "Something is missing from your garden," he responded. "Or perhaps... Concealed." Batman admires the greenery but pauses at a singular plant. It's stem bearing no flower as the woman stands behind him, her features hidden by her green gardening hat. He stares fixated on the plant before turning around and lifting her hat, revealing her remorseful face. He remembers when he was just a young boy, laying two red roses on a cracked pavement for the first time. He looks over the memory, knowing the grief of his adolescence shaped him into the man he is today.

"You associate red roses with the loss of your parents. I hid them from you, only wishing to remove the pain those memories create. To lift your burden and offer you a chance at paradise in this Eden."

"I can't stay," he said with resolve. "Something remains unfinished. I'm still needed elsewhere." "Then take these with you," spoke the green woman. "And may you find what you are searching for." She looks down in thought at the red roses in her hand before gently passing it to Batman. She stands, alone in her heaven, watching him ride off into the glacial, barbaric land once again.

END ID]

[silverislander]

got through another church service :) (people wouldn't stop touching me without asking) (got guilt tripped abt not coming around anymore twice) (extremely aware i was being watched and judged the whole time) (everyone only seems to remember my brothers accomplishments) (they still fucking do gendered call and responses in 2023)

[spidybaby]

Dull shine part 2 pleeeeease 😫❤️ ur srsly talented!!!

Dull Shine | Part Two

Summary: An advice and looking into the mirror makes Kylian understand why you left.

Warnings: cursing, depression topic, money issues.

A/N: It's meeee hiiii, I'm the problem it's ME. Sorry about taking so much time, I was solving some personal things, and now I'm freeeee 😫✨️ love you all so much ❤️

Also, heads-up, this is short because I think it's all it needs, not a full part two, more like a compliment that seals the deal 😀❤️

Part one

One day left.

That's what Kylian told himself when he woke up.

One day left for you to come back.

He can't deny that he wasn't the most excited person in the room the next day at practice. Everybody noticed, it was like everybody knew what happened that night.

But not at Luis Enrique's home. At his own, when he told you to move on from the problem he created.

When he ignored you, back turned to you. When you needed him the most. Every time he thinks about it, his heart sinks. It's a weight he's not able to lift.

His mother was the first to notice your absence. He walked into his home with something for you and you weren't there.

The first excuse. "She's working late."

Then it was Ethan. He called you to go to the movies and have a fun night. Wanting to see you after being busy with the team.

The second excuse. "She's sick, have a cold."

They both believed his words. Thinking you were being taken care of by him. But when the excuses kept coming. It wasn't normal anymore.

"Just be honest, we are your family." Fayza says. Sitting next to him. "Tell us what happened."

He sighs, ready to finally disclose his feelings. "She left a week and a half ago." He confess. Hands covering his face. "We had a fight, I said some things just days before, and she wasn't at the right mental place to deal with everything."

They didn't understood. How?

"What do you mean she left?" Ethan asks, standing up from his seat. "She left just like that? You let her leave just like that?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Kylian fights back. "She had her things packed, her ticket purchased and I thought that was the best thing. Don't you think this hurts me?"

"I can't believe you, Kylian. You lie to us, instead of admit that you fucked up. You lie straight to our faces."

"I was hurt, Y/n left, I was scared of facing that."

Fayza is silent, processing the information while her sons yell at each other.

"Enough, Ethan, sit down." She orders. "Kylian, you two broke up?"

He shakes his head no. "She just needed time. We were just not working together in understanding each others probl-"

"More like you weren't." Ethan interrupts. "Because all I hear is me, me, me. But you don't really think that same thinking got you where you are?"

He didn't fight back.

He knows his little brother is right.

"When will she be back?" His mother asks, worried expression.

"In a few days."

And those few days turned into just a few hours.

To be honest with himself, he was stressed. You were going to be back in Paris, but we're you going to be back with him?

Will the break become a breakup?

He was overthinking. That was not good.

Hakimi felt bad. He knew you better. When he heard what Kylian told him about you leaving, about Pamela belittling you, he checked his cameras.

The good thing about having money is that you can afford a very good quality security system. He heard how Pamela attacked you first. You then answered back, but you weren't going to let yourself get insulted.

He apologized to you over text. Asking you to forgive him and tell you how much guilt he feels about this whole situation.

When you read the texts, you felt weird. It wasn't his fault, or even Pamela's.

Everything was a mix of frustration, sadness and low self-respect you had for yourself.

You defend yourself from Pamela, but who was going to defend you from yourself?

You were the one belittling yourself.

Were you enough? You are.

But were you feeling enough? No.

Were you happy with Kylian?

And that question burned your mind for days.

You loved Kylian, he was your rock and you were his rock. You passed some critical times, but nothing like this.

Because he was there for you when you needed him the most, he was there when you lost someone, he was there when you felt homesick, he was there at you happiest.

But you didn't allow him to he at your lowest.

You notice how he was going out more, but he always asked you to come with him. Begged you to leave the house and accompany him.

You notice how he never heard you talk. But you barely even made conversation. You let him speak. When it was your turn, you only said, "I had a good day."

He had to fulfill the quietness with words.

Your mother asked you to think about therapy. Maybe there was something you needed that she or anyone couldn't understand. Something only you could.

And you did. You went to therapy while you were there. Every two days.

It was just the beginning, but it helped you understand that you had more than just a relationship problem. In fact, the relationship problem came from this.

Being blue is normal. We all feel like that.

But when you don't treat it, it can be rough. And you were doing that now, understanding that you needed help. Help that a trip home won't give you. Help that a fight with your friends new girlfriend won't give you.

But help that your lover can give you. He can be the hand to hold during this.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes, I know now what I need to do." You say, hugging your friend.

You felt nervous about coming back.

Would he be okay with that?

Did he realize he didn't need you anymore?

If only you knew how anxious he is at Paris. Watching the time every five minutes to see if your arrival time is coming closer.

He prepared your favorite meal. Got your favorite dessert, your favorite drink and even prepare everything for a bubble bath.

He needed you to know how much he appreciates you, how important you are for him.

You were nervous too, your leg bouncing and bitting your nails. You brought him a gift from your home. Something he asked you a long time ago, and you never got due to not being able to travel back home.

You asked for an Uber. Not wanting his chauffeur to pick you or him to get out in the coldness of Paris.

The whole drive was painful. You were overthinking.

Both of you were.

"Would she be back to stay?"

"Is this going to end?"

"What if he doesn't want me back?"

"What if this is the end?"

"Madame, we are here." The Uber called your attention once your things were next to you on the street.

"Merci beaucoup." You say, paying him and telling him that you will take it from here.

You open the gate with your control. The sound of it interrupting the calm of the evening.

When he heard the sound, his heart stopped for a second. He was about to throw up from nerves.

The giggle of the keys makes him stop, he feels like throwing up. He took a sip of water before looking at himself on his phone camera, checking if he looked presentable.

The smell of food hits you as soon as you walk inside. Leaving your suitcase by the stairs and slowly walking inside trying to find him.

His back welcomes you, he's focused on his phone to notice you walking into the kitchen. The table was ready, your favorite food ready to be served.

"Kyks?"

He turns quickly, smiling at you with soft eyes. He walks with open arms to you. You lock your arms behind his back, feeling his kisses on your face.

"Mon amour." He kiss your forehead. "How was your flight? Did you even sleep? Are you hungry? I made your favorite meal and I was waiting f-"

You interrupted him by kissing his lips, and all the worries from both of you are out the door. You know he's not mad, and he knows you still love him.

"It was good. Thank you for updating my seat." You answer his questions. "I did sleep, almost all the flight, and I'm very hungry. Thank you for cooking. I can't wait to try it."

He kiss you on the lips, smiling into the kiss. His safe space is back with him. There is nothing better right now.

He pulls you to the chairs, serving you the food and drink. You can tell he was happy. He looked fresh.

You eat in silence. The peace of it is different than before. There was no more weird silence that a video or keyboard sound filled.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this."

He nods, waiting for the right time to talk about all the things that need to be talked about. He lays his head on your shoulder. Kissing your neck.

You feel the same. You want to jump and talk about everything to end the topic and move on. But that was not the way.

However, procrastinating the conversation wasn't the way either. "Let's talk. The faster, the better." You smile.

"Impatient much?" He jokes. Standing up and taking the plates to the sink. "Let's go to the living room?"

You nod, standing up and grabbing his hand, directing him to the big fluffy couch you both love.

"I want to start." He says as soon as his body falls into the cushion.

"Okay, lovie." You smile.

He thinks for a second, how can he ask what he needs to ask? He knows that no matter what, it will hit.

"Why weren't you honest about you having money issues?"

Your expression didn't change. You knew he knew. Celine asked you to pick your check a few days after you asked her you were taking a few days off to rest your mind.

You asked Kylian to pick it up, and Celine gave him a piece of her mind. She felt bad about doing it and called you a few hours later.

She told him that he was an asshole if he couldn't even tell that you were having issues not only with your peace of mind but with how much you worked and felt bad about never been able to match the lifestyle he was.

"I don't have money issues, Ky." You say, low but enough for him to hear. "What I had was the concept that I needed to have a certain amount of money to be enough for you. Leading to me working extra and feeling less than everybody who was around and could give themselves the benefit of spending what I earned in a nightclub."

He nods, understanding. "You know that I'm not like that, right?"

"I do. You always supported me in any way you could. And I'm grateful for you. I just felt so out of place." You sigh. "And every girl who got close to your friends always asked me about your ex, how she was this way and this way. I felt like competing."

He can feel his heart sinks. He never wanted you to compare yourself to the girls he dated. There was a reason why he was done with those relationships.

"You are so smart." He says, hand caressing your cheek. "You have no idea how much I ever wanted to end with someone like you. Not only beautiful but a very strong woman who doesn't need other peoples opinions and who can shine on her own."

You can feel your eyes watering. You never thought that his words were something you needed, but you did.

"My ex-girlfriends are just that. Exes. You are my present and my future." He kiss your cheek. "And I want you to know that no amount of money or any girl who I ever got anything with is going to take the place you have in my heart. You are the one."

Your lips found his, you can't think of any future plans or anything that didn't include him. You know he was your one, and knowing you are his one is heartwarming.

"I'm sorry, I know I was acting like a bitch. I think I felt way too comfortable, and I was so wrong for not noticing that you weren't you. I promise I'm not going to let that happen again."

"Thank you for that." You smile. "I'm sorry too, I was overwhelmed with all the thoughts in my mind. I think I let the worst of it hit me and never paint mind to it."

"It's okay." He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it. "You have me, and I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

The warmth in your heart is hard to describe. You are sure he will be with you no matter what. The same way you were for him when he needed you.

You hug him, falling into his embrace. His hands caressing your body while he left sweet words in your ear.

"We are going to be okay because we have each other." He kiss your lips and your head. "Tu m’as et je t’ai. Je t’aime, tu es mon monde." He humms.

[elspeth-catton]

my saltburn hot take is i think the reason felix brought oliver to his mom's is because he was done with him.

you can see felix and the family growing increasingly bored of him, much like poor dear pamela he's overstaying his welcome at that point in the movie.

i don't really think felix cared about being the savior again, i don't think he cared period. he saw the phone call from his mom as an easy way to get him out of his life, because like m*chael g*vey said "he'll grow bored of you." and he did.

if anything he did it out of pity and saw it as a way to alleviate himself of any lingering guilt of cutting off a friend (toy) who has nothing without him, and if he got oliver his mother back then problem solved he doesn't need to stay with him anymore! and he's a hero in the process (which is a bonus but not the reasoning imo)!!

but finding out oliver lied i do think felix was genuinely hurt, not necessarily because he loved oliver (i'm not totally convinced anyone in the family truly knows how to love people outside of their family, prefer/enjoy the company of, sure. maybe even feel genuine affection towards, but idk about actual love) but because for the first time felix has experienced not only real betrayal, but also probably the closest thing to heartbreak felix is capable of feeling.

[fahye]

book recs: aug-sept '23

THE BAYOU by arden powell -- queer horror novella! this is set in 1930s louisiana and like all good horror it's about horrible unburied secrets haunting you. but also gators and summer flooding and guilt and, uh, letting a hot mysterious man/fae/?other? rail you in a church. superb. no notes.

TELL ME I'M WORTHLESS by alison rumfitt -- MORE QUEER HORROR! TRANS HORROR!! this is a haunted house book but the haunting is modern british fascism and the house is made of TERFs. the writing is fantastic. it's like being trapped in a small room with someone who is screaming loudly and endlessly, but like, in a good way.

THE SECRET COUNTRY by pamela dean -- this is an oldschool portal fantasy that somehow manages to combine excellent diana wynne jones vibes with my most common stress nightmare, ie. the one where you're in the Show but you've been so busy choreographing for the Show that you've forgotten to learn your own lines. baffling. very enjoyable.

KNOCKOUT by sarah maclean -- listen. listen. this series is about a historical vigilante girl gang, and this is the romance between a lady explosives expert and the exasperated policeman she wants very much to bang (heheh. bang.) very miss fisher vibes and also, somehow, very Fuck The Police (...heheh.) I adored it.

AN ISLAND PRINCESS STARTS A SCANDAL by adriana herrera -- a very horny and fun f/f histrom about a venezuelan artist in paris and the duchess she is, again, extremely determined to bang. I love this series of adriana's, with all its glorious historical detail about the various latinx delegations to the grand paris exhibition.

THE SPIDER AND HER DEMONS by sydney khoo -- YA fantasy about a chinese-malaysian australian girl who is also, inconveniently, a spider demon. this has an aro-ace heroine and heaps of very cool and creepy body horror and made me desperate to go back to sydney and eat banh mi in cabramatta. a+.

WHITE CAT, BLACK DOG by kelly link -- so you know how kelly link is an absolute genius master of the short story form? you know how the best fairytale retellings are both chattily straightforward and bonkers weird? YEAH. my god this collection is so good.

[thewailingbells]

We’ll Meet Again

AN: This was multiple requests put into one, so if you recently requested something for Jason it should be included in some aspect into this!

You remember him—that sweet boy at Camp Crystal Lake. He was different from the other kids there, to say the least. His head was incredibly large, which, at the time, you assumed was due to some sort of disability. The kids teased him for it, and even the camp counselors made rude remarks about the physical appearance of the boy. You never did, though.

The first time you noticed him was during lunch in the cafeteria. All the kids sat together at different tables, eating and talking, except for him. He held a tray of food in his hands, and he nervously stood in the corner of the room. You saw one of the lunch workers crouch down next to him to comfort him. She seemed to be a young woman with bright, short yellow hair. She pointed to you, seemingly telling the boy to go sit next to you. You were sitting at a table all alone, and you wanted some new friends. You waved at him. He tried to hide behind the woman, but she wouldn’t let him.

The woman came up to you, gently pushing the boy in front of her. “Hello, dear. My name is Pamela. Pamela Voorhees. This is my son, Jason. Would it be okay if he sat next to you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, not knowing any better. You took in the way he looked; it was odd to you, but you remembered that your parents told you to never judge a book by its cover. You were also desperate for some friends. So, you nodded your head. “Yeah.”

Pamela smiled. The boy, Jason, hesitantly sat down in the seat across from you. Pamela patted his back. “You two have fun now; I need to get back to work.” She leaned down and kissed Jason on the cheek before leaving.

You introduced yourself to him, and he smiled. You began to talk to him about childish things. Your favorite cartoon, your favorite color, your favorite stuffed animal—anything you could think of. He chimed in sparingly. You realized very early in your conversation that he also had a speech impediment. You didn’t mind; it just meant you got to talk more. Before you could tell him about your favorite ice cream flavor, you heard some of the other kids at camp laughing and snickering. You turned your head and saw that they all seemed to be laughing at you, or rather laughing at your new friend.

Jason noticed too. He frowned and looked away. He buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the stares. You reached out and rubbed his arm. “Don’t worry about them. They’re jerks. I got your back since we’re friends now!”

That’s what you told him. Throughout your month with him at Camp Crystal Lake, that was what you told him every day—that you would be there for him, but you weren’t. Not on Friday, the Thirteenth of 1957.

You were sitting on a bench next to one of the cabins, waiting for Jason. You sat on the bench, reading a book to keep yourself occupied. All of a sudden, a group of kids went running towards the lake. You put your book down and followed the hoard in an attempt to see what all the fuss was about. The kids ran to the dock. You stood on your tiptoes to try and see what was happening. You sighed; it was no use. You shoved yourself through the crowd; that was when you saw him.

It all happened so quickly. You locked eyes with him for a brief moment. There were looks of terror on both of your faces. One of the boys shoved him into the water. You screamed in horror. You began to run towards the water, but you were stopped. A boy behind you yanked your arm, pulling you backward. Before you fought back, you were pushed to the ground, and your vision turned black.

It was 1985. You weren’t sure why you came back to Camp Crystal Lake after all this time. Perhaps it was the feeling of guilt that you hadn’t been able to extinguish over the years. You stared at the “Do Not Enter” sign for quite some time. The camp was closed off due to murders that had previously happened a few years ago in the area. It wasn’t safe to be here; you knew that well, but you had to go. For him, for Jason.

As you stepped foot onto the grounds of the camp, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. You began to walk around the camp, searching for that spot. It took you a while; the camp was larger than you had remembered. Soon enough, you found it. Your heart skipped a beat.

The dock. The dock that Jason was pushed off of. You carefully began to walk across it. When you reached the end, you looked out into the body of water. The body of water that Jason had drowned in. You felt tears prick your eyes. It was too much to handle. You dropped to your knees, violently sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you wailed over and over again. “I tried to save you! I’m so sorry I couldn’t. Forgive me, please, forgive me.” You tried to catch your breath, but you couldn’t. You screamed at the top of your lungs. A scream full of sadness, anger, and frustration. “They were so cruel. So cruel to you. I’m sorry, Jason Voorhees. You were such a sweet boy,” you said while choking on your tears. “Your mother and I wept over you every day that summer. I wish I could’ve done more for you and her,” you said with a sigh. You wiped away your tears. “The people around here tell stories about you. They say you’re some kind of monster, a freak,” you began to cry again, “but you’re not! You never were! You were my best friend. I miss you, Jason.”

Little did you know, the man you cried for on the dock was watching you. He remembered you. The girl from summer camp. You came back for him. Since his mother’s death, he has felt something in his heart, possibly a feeling of love. Jason couldn’t quite tell. That’s when he noticed you begin to stand up. He felt panic. You weren’t allowed to leave! He missed you; he needed you.

You collected yourself after an hour of mourning the loss of your friend. You wiped away your tears, fixed your hair, and drank water. After you calmed yourself down, you began to walk away from the dock. It was time for you to go home. You had paid your respects.

Suddenly, a calloused hand slammed over your mouth and another grabbed you roughly by your torso, spinning you around. Your eyes widened as you faced the figure that was towering over you. He was wearing a hockey mask. You let out a worried whimper from behind the large palm that was keeping you silent. Surprisingly, the man sensed your discomfort and shook his head. He was trying to silently communicate with you, but you didn't know what he wanted.

The masked figure took his hand off of your mouth. He held his hand up to where his mouth would be and made a shushing motion. You did not want to anger the man, so you stayed quiet. He took a deep breath. He knew this would be the only way to calm you down. He let go of your torso before reaching up to grab onto his mask. He gripped the bottom of the mask and lifted it over his face. 

You let out a loud gasp of shock. “No, no, you're not him. You can’t be. This isn't funny, you know!” The man's face was deformed, just like Jason’s used to be. The same dents and lumps from his condition, hydrocephalus. “He drowned you, fucker! Jason Voorhees drowned! He was my best friend, and he drowned! If this is some kind of cruel joke, knock it off,” you yelled at the man in anger. He averted his eyes to look at the ground, feeling some type of shame. Perhaps it was because of the way you yelled at him, but you would never know. 

“Oh my God,” you said in a quiet voice. “Jason? Jason, is that you?” He nodded his head. You ran into his arms, holding him tightly. “Jason! Jason! I missed you so much! I’m sorry for everything! I tried to save you! One of the boys pushed me to the ground, and when I woke up, you were… I even can’t say it. I searched for you with your mother every night, and now you’re here! In front of me!” You hadn’t noticed it, but tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

Jason couldn’t stand to look at you in your depressed state any longer. He pulled you a hug. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t hugged someone since 1957. You were so warm, small, and fragile compared to him. His heart swelled when you nuzzled yourself into his shoulder. After awhile you tried to pull out of Jason’s tight hug. His grip tightened. That was when you realized, he was never going to let you go.

[overleftdown]

farleigh start and racism; oh boy.

(some people are going to find this post really annoying. some people are like felix catton.)

read this.

just some thoughts from the perspective of a person of color who is slightly too obsessed with this character. this movie leaves the viewer a lot of wiggle room to interpret how dynamics such as race and privilege come into play. there are certain parallels between this movie and the real world, and how unnoticeable white privilege tends to be for white people.

lemme lay some groundwork. from what i understand, the most prevalent form of racism and white privilege within upper- and middle-class circles is implicit bias. this is racist conceptualization that subconsciously interacts with one's perception of society and people. implicit bias is often externalized through microaggressions, differences in treatment and language towards a marginalized person, misplaced guilt or pity, and persistent denial of any existing privilege or marginalization. most of these biases are also founded on stereotypes. some racial stereotypes are heightening (e.g. asians are all smart) and some are lowering (e.g. black people are all lazy). all stereotypes are harmful. i'm going to discuss some of the stereotypes that could theoretically interact within the saltburn canon, as well as some things i've noticed within viewers. can of worms, to be honest. boutta get INTO IT.

to use one of my externalization examples, let's discuss (or, more accurately, let me discuss) the denial of existing privilege or marginalization. this is a subconscious way to uphold a sense of morality, effectively avoiding "white guilt," so to speak. as is clearly presented to us, the cattons are very attached to their methods of upholding their own self-righteousness. saviorism is a common theme within both elspeth and felix. in oliver's conversation with elspeth about poor dear pamela, you can see that oliver recognizes elspeth's need to justify her actions in an attempt to preserve her sense of decency. one can only assume that this applies to how they view farleigh's relationship with them. there's more to talk about there, but i'd like to start with the only overt mention of race in this movie.

in felix's confrontation with farleigh, farleigh makes the bold and brave decision to mention his blackness. i call this brave because it's genuinely a terrifying thing to do, and the end of this conversation is proof. "oh, that is... that is low, farleigh. seriously, that's where you want to take this? make it a race thing? i never know our footman's names; the turnover for a footman is notoriously high!" we have felix's intentional or unintentional shaming of farleigh. we have felix's appalled denial of any involvement of race or racial bias. we have felix's diversion away from farleigh specifically and onto his own inability to know his staff's names. felix made no further attempt to recenter farleigh, aside from telling him that the cattons have "done what they can." (which is SO absurd on its own. they are clearly and obviously able to do more. they are disgustingly rich). farleigh does feel ashamed after felix's response; you can see it on his face, and archie says it directly. here is a relevant and prevalent stereotype for all marginalized people: that the discussion of marginalization is exclusively weaponized to gain something or manipulate a situation. this is how felix chooses to see farleigh's implication of existing white privilege. this conversation results in nothing, does nothing, as felix chooses not to confront what he's probably thinking as he repeats the words "begging bowl" to venetia.

now. saviorism, guilt, and pity. felix specifically tells oliver that sir james made an effort to support farleigh out of guilt. i'd like to order some things in a way that i perceive them. frederica start runs from england, which is explained in a condescending way by felix. frederica start marries a so-referred-to "lunatic" who dug through fred and jame's money, although it's farleigh who only mentions fred's financial irresponsibility. out of guilt, james offers to pay for farleigh's education. the specificity of education is compelling to me. perhaps james is simply a patriotic man who strongly believes that english education is better. or this is a mobilized racial stereotype! who can truly know. i digress. james' offer to pay for farleigh's foreign education puts the cattons in an odd position; if farleigh is to attend english schools, he will need to stay with the cattons. if farleigh is staying with the cattons, he will need to be treated as equal to felix and venetia. this is all one long chain of obligations. none of these acts from one family member to another should be considered "charitable," because family should intrinsically create a trustworthy and supportive dynamic.

i believe that the cattons do consider their fostering of farleigh as obligatory. moral obligation, as they recognize that families are intended to have a sympathetic and loving relationship. they cannot, however, escape the truth that they're just guilty. the "begging bowl" and "biting the hand" are more symbolic of a starving dog and its charitable adopter than a cousin/nephew who's staying with his absurdly rich family. see, the cattons are fully and entirely capable of affording another child, of supporting frederica financially, etc. the only way i can rationalize their reluctance to do so is by assuming that they don't feel like farleigh deserves it. is this a crazy assumption? i genuinely don't see why else. of course, i don't think this mentality is explicit or conscious. it's more-so the reality that when farleigh walks in a room, he's not the same as anybody else. aside from background characters at oxbridge, the only on-screen black people are liam, joshua, and james' godson's wife (who gets degraded on-screen). this is the reality of being different in an environment such as the english aristocracy. the cattons choose to see themselves as the hand that feeds the less fortunate, more entertaining, and least inconvenient. the cattons' inclusion of farleigh is not only reliant on how well farleigh performs, but also on their own pity and guilt.

all of this is somehow, painfully mirrored by some takes i've seen on farleigh. maybe this entire post is presumptuous, but you know what isn't presumptuous? saying that certain people hold farleigh to an incredibly odd standard. while the cattons never canonically said anything along the lines of "farleigh doesn't deserve our love and support," mfs on the internet have. the number of times people have referred to this character as greedy, lazy, petty, and malignant is so odd to me. i'm insane, i know. i just don't understand how people can hold farleigh to the backdrop of an english aristocratic family and so passionately say that he, of all characters, is the most detestable. or that he, of all characters, has no reason to behave in the way he does.

is farleigh greedy? greed is defined as a desire for more. farleigh has no desire to climb ranks, no desire to replace or surpass felix, no desire to hold any power over any family member. he is maintaining, upholding a standard that has been set for him throughout his life. is it kind or selfless of him to meddle in other people's affairs with the cattons? no. does he have a reason to be upset that non-relatives of the cattons are a threat to his inclusion in the first place? yes. is farleigh lazy? i don't even need to explain this one. no. if you don't consider oliver lazy, then i really don't want to hear anything. is farleigh petty? pettiness is defined as "an undue concern for trivial matters, especially in a small-minded or spiteful way." farleigh's meticulous attention to trivial matters isn't undue in any sense. a person of color and their meticulous attention to trivial matters is almost never undue. elspeth is a good example of petty. is farleigh malignant? there are a lot of definitions of malignant and i've seen people apply all of them, in some way, to farleigh. that's just wrong. archie madekwe once said, "i was interested in humanizing what, on paper, seemed like a mean character, a villain, or a bully. i don't think he's any of that. he's very self-serving, but i think he's really a heartbreaking character." case closed, this was for my own piece of mind. had to write this section because good lord.

in conclusion to this post that has gone tragically off the rails, i think the in-canon and viewer perspective of farleigh is, perhaps, a little racially motivated. sue me. they are all very centered on this idea that farleigh doesn't deserve inherent respect, support, and love. to remove farleigh's rational position within the cattons family would be akin to removing his right to familial love. genuinely, that's how i see it. the transaction nature of farleigh's actions is responsive. he sees felix as a social shield at oxbridge, he sees elspeth and james as the beholders of his perceived security, and he sees saltburn as a way to escape from his lack of privilege and his lack of stability in america. boom. bam. pow.

[a1307s]

Flickers of Green #2

(Dick Grayson & Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to fish-goat]

Requested by: quirkyshortdumbo11

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6,214

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Cursing

Mentions of Death

———————————————————————

I walk out of the abandoned building, the sounds of my gunshot and the now-dead drug lord's screaming still ringing in my head.

Nowadays it seems that these sounds comfort me more than Bruce ever could. Fucking Bruce. I hate him. I hate Batman. I hate the Joker. I hate myself for letting Y/N die. For dragging her to her death. For not being able to save her. For me being the one that's alive.

I can't let guilt cloud my mind right now. It's hard to kill someone as you're feeling guilty for causing the death of someone else. I need something to clear my head, something to reset myself. Coffee should help, it always did when I was originally alive.

I glance around, trying to get my wits together and figure out where the nearest coffee shop is. I tug my phone out of my jacket, taking a glance at the time. Nine thirty-two. Late but not too late, except for coffee. I don't know if anywhere with a decent cup of Joe will be open. I don't need that watered-down bean soup shit they serve at gas stations.

Pamela's cafe will be open. They're always open. I don't want to go there though. The last thing I need is more memories of Y/N.

I do a quick Google search, hoping to find any other cafe open, but I don't. I don't need coffee, but I do need something to eat and a donut sounds so good right now. I can't even remember what a donut tastes like. I'll just have to eat my feelings alongside the donut then.

I pull up Google Maps, glancing over it quickly before heading towards the cafe. The plus side of Pamela's is that the staff is pretty chill with anything; heroes, villains, and citizens alike.

It seems that in the past couple of years, the girls on staff have been adopted by some of the villains. I see Ivy, Scarecrow, and Harley coming and going from there a lot.

When I was at the Iceberg Lounge - aka Penguin's bar, strip club, and not-so-underground business - he mentioned that he "keeps up" on the girls and pays some of their tuition. He also mentioned there's a new girl that started a couple of months ago and that she's "a feisty little one that doesn't fear shit". That coming from Penguin is a bit of an honor. Not many people can get a compliment like that from him.

Maybe I'll meet this feisty new girl tonight. Maybe I'll take her home. I could use the distraction. However, I don't usually end up doing anything with them when I do get them home. I usually just lose my shit cause it's not the same as it was with Y/N.

I switch between being mad and being indifferent about being unable to move on from her. She died only ever loving me, why can't I live only ever loving her?

The neon lights of the cafe cut into my line of sight along with cutting through my thoughts. I forgot how obnoxious all the neon was. Standing right outside the cafe is Penguin and a young girl. She's in the 50s dinner uniform Pamela's staff wears. She's also wrapped up in a fancy-looking coat.

I feel half bad for the girl. If she's working at a cafe, she can't afford a coat like that, which means it's from the Penguin. It's never good for anyone - much less a young girl - to be in debt to Penguin.

My pace slows as I approach them. "Come on Feisty, just let me pay for your courses. Then you wouldn't have to work so much."

"No, I'm good. I don't mind supporting myself." The girl's voice is soft but firm as she speaks. Maybe she isn't as stupid as I thought.

"Listen here you little bitch-"

"No, you listen here you fucking flightless bird," the girl yells back, causing a bit of laughter to brew in my chest. "I already told you I don't want your money and unlike most of the other girls, I don't owe you shit so back off."

"And if I don't?" He asks, starting to turn the head on his cane. Under the head is usually a knife that Penguin is known to use on people when he doesn't get his way.

The girl yanks the cane away before any damage can be done, causing shock in both the bird and me. "If you don't I'll stab you to death with your own cane. Go back to your dumb pimp square." Penguin stands there for a second, just staring at the girl before he walks away mumbling to himself. His wobble is more present than usual now that he doesn't have his cane to support him. The club owner wasn't kidding about this girl not being scared of anything, or at least she was good at pretending.

Now that the fat man isn't in the way, I'm able to see the girl he was talking to. As my eyes scan over her my mind both empties and explodes. Standing in the neon lights is the spitting image of Y/N, which is impossible... because she's dead.

Or is it? I'm technically dead and yet here I am. But if she was alive, she would have looked for me, right? Like I did for her? She would at least be at the manor, right? Bruce would take her back in or at the very least Dick would... right? Or maybe she didn't want to go back to them. Maybe she's mad at them too.

Y/N - I think it's her - turns on her heels, heading down the road. I need to follow her. If she is my Y/N I need to know. I need to be a hundred percent certain. At the very least, if it's not Y/N I should still watch the girl get home safe after she disagreed with Penguin.

What if it's not Y/N? What if it is? What if this is a trap? Is Al Ghul fucking with my head again? Did he set this up to trap me back within the League? Even if he did, I need to know what's going on. Just in case it is a trap, I stay hidden. I'll have the element of surprise if shit does go south.

I follow this girl, not paying much attention to where she's going but making sure to keep pace with her. If it is my Y/N I can't lose her again from careless mistakes.

My mind runs a mile a minute as I trail her. I need answers, I need to hold her, I need her to be Y/N.

Maybe-Y/N turns, making my heart race. Fear of losing her around the corner mixes with the joy of a split second of light enveloping her.

I catch a glimpse behind her ear. When we were twelve, right before Bruce took us in, we thought it would be a good idea to give each other stick-and-poke tattoos. We tattooed each other's names behind our ears. My name is there, behind her left ear, in my chicken scratch handwriting. It has to be her. There's no way Al Ghul could know about that. I don't even think Bruce knows about our matching tattoos.

My pace quicks as I slide around the corner after her. I need her. I need to tell her I'm here. I need - it's a trap.

Hands land on me, throwing me to my right. My boots slide against the gravel on the sidewalk, aiding in me losing my balance. I fall hard, harder than the Roman Empire.

On my way down, my helmet comes into contact with a trash can. The noise echoes within my disguise, promising to give me a headache.

"What the hell?" I bark, quickly getting back to my feet. I should have known this was too good to be true. I should have known it was a trap. I should have known to pay attention to my surroundings. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Once the sound rattling around my helmet quiets some I'm able to get a grip on my surroundings. Standing in front of me is Dick Grayson in his signature black and blue spandex suit. "Fucking Nightwing," I husk out, shaking my head to get the last of the echoes out.

"Hood," he answers, positioning himself for a throwdown.

From my last run-in with Bruce, it's evident he knows who I am. Despite his attempt to hide it, the Bat was throwing his punches. I'm guessing from the greeting that he didn't share his findings with Dick.

But fine, if a fight is what Nightwing wants, a fight is what he'll get. It shouldn't be difficult to get him down.

I cautiously walk toward him, preparing myself to swing. One easy hit. Just one to knock him down long enough for me to sneak off and find Y/N.

I swing at him, but he ducks. What a little shit. I don't want trouble, I just want to go find - he thinks I'm stalking her. Dick thinks I'm stalking Y/N. Does he know it's Y/N?

"Just move aside, Wing, it's not what you think," I call out louder than I meant to. I throw another punch, trying to get him down again. I don't have time for this. I don't have the want to explain who I am and who I'm chasing after.

Dick needs to get out of my way before I lose Y/N. I can't lose her again. I'd burn the Earth to a crisp before I let that happen.

My thoughts distract me, making me lag as Nightwing tries to sweep my feet out from under me. I almost managed to avoid it but do end up tripping a bit from my late reaction.

"You're a notorious killer chasing after a girl, what else am I supposed to think?" Grayson calls, his cocky attitude present in his words. Well, that answers my question; he doesn't know it's Y/N. Or who I am. Or maybe he does and doesn't want me to know that he's connected to her. I hate the hush-hush behaviors we both inherited from Bruce.

I stumble back, again causing my helmet to come into contact with more metal. I'm definitely going to have a piercing headache for the next couple of hours. Great.

As the object behind me catches my fall, my guns slide across it, reminding me of their presence. If he's not going to go down with physical force, a gunshot sure as hell will work.

Nightwing approaches me, pulling his weapon out from behind his back. He's mumbling, probably answering whoever is on the other end of his coms. Great, I'm going to have to go through Batman too to get to Y/N. If that's the case, so be it. Bruce's name is as good as carved into my bullets if that's what it takes to get Y/N back.

I take Nightwing's distraction as a chance to get the upper hand. Being the asshole I am, I sweep Nightwing's feet out from under him. It's what he deserves and quite good karma. He stumbles back, landing on his back a couple of steps ahead of me.

No time is wasted as I start closing the gap between us. My gun feels heavy in my hand as I pull it out. Richard made his own grave trying to get between Y/N and me again, but that doesn't mean I like laying him in it. I watch as he grabs for one of his sticks as I tower over him. He can try all he wants but it won't stop me; nothing will stop me. Y/N will be safe from him, from Bruce, from the life I dragged her into it.

I level the barrel to his head debating if I should just end it here. It would be quite the message to Batman. "Lady don't!" A young voice screams out.

I glance up to find who else is present but before I can my eyes lock on Y/N. She's rushed and flustered as she races towards me. Before I can stop her, she's shoving the gun up towards the sky. "Don't shoot!" She shouts, her words followed by the sound of the gun going off.

Fear flickers through me before my senses come in. Y/N isn't shot, she can't be, the gun is pointed too high.

She stands in front of me, anger rooted in her eyes as she looks at me. There are flickers of green mixed in with her normal eye color. I take in the rest of her, letting my mind go silent as I look her over. Y/N has a strand of grey mixed in her hair, just like me. She has to be alive because of the Laza pit. She has the same greying hair and recent green added to her eyes, just like me. Mine were caused because of the pit, so hers have to be because of it too, right? Is she suffering from the same side effects I did because of the pit?

"What the fuck is your problem, you daft cow?" Y/N yells, tugging the weapon from my hand before I can stop her. I have to stop myself from laughing at the situation. It's too much like it was when we were younger. Dick and me going toe-to-toe and Y/N swooping in to break us up once again.

"Don't stand there and look dumb at me. What do you think you're doing?" She repeats herself, her attention turning towards the gun.

I shift to point it down, so she doesn't accidentally shoot herself, but she beats me to it. The barrel is pointed at the open pavement between our feet as her hands work on disconnecting the bullets from the gun.

Y/N's fingers look smooth and soft as they work. I want to touch them. I want to hold them in my hands. I want to press kisses into them. I want to touch her. I want to know she's real.

"I..." I start, my mouth feels heavy and suddenly full of cotton. "Hi." The word sounds loud when it tumbles out.

"Hello," Y/N says back, her eyes sparkling. The color I've grown so used to comforts me despite the newly added flickers of green. She's so bright and here and alive.

Her focus stays on me for a beat longer as she hands me back my gun. Our fingers bumping into each other, sending shivers up my spine. She's alive.

I let the feeling envelop me as my eyes switch from her face to staying locked on the shitty tattoo behind her ear. My mind is on overtime, running through a million questions even as Y/N moves up and down in front of me. I can hear her voice as she talks to Dick but it's hard to focus on processing her words.

My eyes snap back up as Y/N stands. She whispers something, the words lost in her uncomfortableness. Am I making her upset? Is Dick? I glance around her to hopefully see what shifted her tone. Since being distracted, Bruce's new Robin has appeared in front of us. Is he making her upset?

Y/N starts walking away, causing panic about losing her to wash over me. Before I can stop myself, I reach out for her, my hand wrapping around her arm to stop her movements. "Let..." I start again, my mouth still feeling dry, and it gets drier as Y/N turns towards me. "Let me walk you home." The words come out quieter than I thought they would.

Her eyes harden as she looks at me and shakes me off of her. "What the fuck is with all you superheroes? Two days ago, I had a frantic Batman shoving hundred-dollar bills into my hand. You have been trailing me for three blocks, you-" So she knows I was behind her? Does she know it's me? Does she not remember Bruce is Batman? What does she remember?

I shake my head again, trying to Etch-A-Sketch the thoughts out of my head. I focus my attention back on Y/N. Her hands are on her hips, her right one popped out. I want to touch her again. I want to put my hands on her hips. I want to feel her between my fingers. I want to feel her warmth against me. I want-

My thoughts are cut off again when Dick starts touching her. "I... Y/N?" Dick says his tone as quiet as mine was. All the love-struck feelings wash out of me and are replaced with anger and jealousy. I don't want him touching her. I should be touching her. She's mine. She's always been mine. What the fuck does Dick think he's doing?

"Good guess," Y/N answers, her figure relaxing some. Does she remember that Grayson is Nightwing? Why does she remember that but not that Bruce is Batman? Does she like him touching her?

"Y/N?" He repeats, his face scrunched up in confusion. He needs to stop touching her before I lose my shit.

Almost as if Y/N can read my thoughts, she shrugs him off and starts walking away again. "That's my name, don't wear it out." Her tune is light and happy, making butterflies flap around my stomach. Nightwing and I stay frozen, watching her slip out of the alleyway before vanishing from our sight.

Dick's attention turns back towards me. His eyes are watery. Apparently, I'm not the only secret Bruce has been keeping from him, how in tune for the bat. "What's next? You going to end up being Jason Todd?" He asks, a sad laugh following. It tinges my heart, almost making me regret being willing to kill him a few minutes ago.

I hum a bit, turning towards the direction Y/N went in as I think about what I'm going to do. I start heading after her before changing my mind. I know she's alive and in town. That's all that matters. It'll be best for her if I back off, give her time to think over the event, and give Dick time to tattle to Bruce so I can see how they'll react. I glance at Nightwing behind me before opening my mouth again, "We both know that Y/N being alive isn't the only secret Bruce Wayne is hiding from the world."

I let the words hang behind me as I walk away. Waiting to go after Y/N also gives me time to think over what I'm going to do. If she doesn't remember parts of her life - if any of it - I don't need to scare her away by coming off too strong.

———————————

My heart jumps around as I walk up the path from the other day. The neon lights are still obnoxious as fuck, but I don't mind. Y/N will be there. I know she will. I've been watching her, keeping tabs on her, getting the hang of her schedule. I know, I know, I know. I sound like a stalker. But it's not stalking. It's... intel collecting.

I know she'll be here. She works until nine-thirty, so unlike the other night, I come in earlier, so I have time to see her. Time to talk to her. I also know they're not too busy at night so the cafe will at least be mostly empty, if not completely deserted.

From my stalk- intel collecting, I know Dick came in earlier to talk to her. I don't know what they talked about though. I don't know if I want to know. It pissed me off seeing Dick with Y/N. Pissed me off seeing him touch her again. Pissed me off seeing the smile that stayed on her face even after she left the cafe for class.

What does Dick think he's doing? I'm not stupid or blind. Hell, even a blind man can see how down-hard Dick is for Y/N. Even when we were younger, he pretty much had hearts in his eyes anytime Y/N was around. She wanted me last time; she'll want me this time too... I think.

The jingle of the bell on the door competes with my heartbeat for space in my ears. Sitting in one of the bar chairs at the coffee island is Y/N. Scarecrow is next to her, helping her with her chemistry homework. I'm not thrilled about this arrangement but at least Y/N is getting the academic help she needs.

"Hello!" Y/N peeps out, sending a smile at me as her attention turns away from Scarecrow. Her eyes soften when she focuses on me. "It's you again."

"It's me again," I mumble, taking slow steps towards her.

Scarecrow stands up, placing himself between Y/N and me. He's always been a small man, even when I was a kid, but he seems even smaller nowadays. "Again?" He asks, trying to look intimidating. He's barely intimidating when he's in his suit, and definitely isn't when he's dressed like a civilian.

"Again," Y/N peeps up, her voice still airy and soft. The same voice that used to whisper sweet nothings into my ear until I fell asleep most nights. "Helmet man here walked me home after I argued with Penguin the other night."

"You got into an argument with Penguin?" Crow asks, turning his attention from me to Y/N. "What did he want?"

"You know, the usual. He wants me in debt to him for another body to do his bidding," She teases a soft smile on her face in an attempt to comfort Crow. Scarecrow shifts around a bit glancing at me a few times.

I step aside, standing next to the skinny man and joining him looking at Y/N. She's so pretty, even out of her style and in the dumb uniform for the cafe. "Can I buy you a coffee?" I ask her, slowly tugging my helmet off as well as making sure the mask under it stays in place. The last thing I need is Scarecrow knowing I'm Jason Todd.

"Look at you, pulling all the guys today," Crow half teases, sending glares my way.

"I guess so," Y/N says, her smile even bigger as she scans over my face. Maybe she does know who I am.

"I have something to deal with. Will you be okay if I leave?" Crow asks, his attention not being pulled from me.

"I'll be fine. I'm pretty confident that I can take him if need be." Y/N giggles at herself, pulling a soft chuckle from Crow as well. He nods at her before turning on his heels and walking off. "What do you want to drink?" She asks, standing up and sliding behind the counter.

"I'll have whatever you're going to have." She hums, starting to make whatever it is she's making. I watch her move around, my eyes drinking in every moment. Memories flow in and out as I watch her. Memories of her hands on me, her lips on me, of her laugh, of her. "What do you think he's off to go do?" I ask, being careful not to call him Scarecrow in case she doesn't know. It would be better if Y/N didn't know; it would be one less person to protect her from.

She hums, her hands working at pouring our drinks out. "He's probably going to go line the fog machines in the Iceberg with fear gas. He gets pretty pissy when Penguin fucks with the staff." So, she does know. Is that good or bad? Probably good in this situation. "Here you go," She murmurs, pushing my cup towards me before walking back around the counter with her drink.

Y/N slides back into her seat, patting the one next to her. I obey, sitting down. Her eyes stay locked on me, the flickers of green swirling around them as she stares. The space is quiet, the only sound being us sipping on our coffees. "Are you stalking me?" She asks, filling in the space and causing me to choke a bit.

My lungs force out a cough in an attempt to counteract my choking. Y/N's eyes stay locked on me, the green standing out as she watches. "I... no?" Why the fuck did that come out as a question? That's pretty counterproductive. "No, I'm not." That's better... maybe.

She hums again, sipping on her coffee as she thinks over my answer. "Defiantly seems like you're stalking me. Most people don't sneak around and follow me all day." Once again silence falls between us. How am I supposed to respond to that?

Y/N sits in silence, enjoying her coffee as she watches me. Even though I know she's suspicious of me, I still find comfort in her gaze. "I don't remember much of my life before six months ago so if I'm supposed to know you, I'm not avoiding you. I just don't know who you are, so you don't need to sneak around me; you just need to talk to me. Well, and be patient please." She says, being the one to break the silence again.

Oh... So, she doesn't know anything. That's... scary. For many reasons. "Is there anything you do remember?" I ask, gently pushing my coffee back and forth between my hands.

"Snip bits of stuff. Though some things have started coming back since I ran into Nightwing and you. Some more came back after my coffee chat with Richard Grayson too."

Don't fucking say his name. Don't say it. You should be saying my name. Should be remembering stuff because of me. Not because of fucking Dick. "Oh ya?" I peep out, glaring ahead of me at the menu instead of focusing my anger on Y/N.

"Mmhmm..." She falls silent, nodding her head back and forth as if she's trying to wiggle her thoughts around. "Helmet man-"

"Red Hood," I say, cutting her off with my correction.

I turn my attention back to her, being met with her eyes already on me. "You're my Jason, right?"

"Ya," I push out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. The word 'my' repeats nonstop in my head, bouncing around my brain as I try to sort through my feelings of bliss.

"I think I love you," She whispers, her hand dipping back behind her ear to mess with her tattoo.

The bliss is all washed away once the words hit my ears. She thinks she loves me? Does she not remember loving me? Of course not, Y/N doesn't remember anything. Well, at least a small piece of her remembers me. Remembers me enough to know she's supposed to love me and that's good enough. There's enough hope there for me to build on.

"Well, I know I love you," I whisper back, keeping my eyes on her to see her reaction. She's still looking at me, her eyes shining.

She hums a bit, tilting her head as she scans me again. "Can I take your mask off?" Y/N asks, her hands slow and gentle as they slide over my cheeks and come into contact with the mask covering my eyes.

"Ya."

Her fingers are soft as they snap off my mask. The joy drains from me as the warmth from her touch is removed. "Your eyes are green... I remember them being blue," Y/N says, her fingertips soon back on my cheeks.

I can feel my cheeks heating up, both from a blush and the hands present on my skin. "They used to be, now they're green." Y/N hums, running her fingers over my cheekbones before sliding them into my hair. I let my eyes close, soaking in her touches. It's calming, being able to be so close to her again, feeling her touch me again, feeling proof that she's alive. I lean forward a bit, getting close enough to feel Y/N's soft breathing coat my face. "Can..." Asking to kiss her might be a little much right now. Maybe I shouldn't ask.

"Can you what?" Y/N prompts, her hands dropping down to my shoulders.

My eyes snap open and once again they're met with the familiar color and the newly added flickers of green. Why did she only get slivers and mine completely changed color? "Can I take you on a date?" I finally ask, shifting a bit so our noses are touching. God, I want to kiss her. I want to hold her. I want her in every way possible. It's going to kill me having to work back up to that.

"I'd like that, Jason."

Yes. God, yes. "Say my name again," I mumble, rubbing my nose against hers.

"Jason," She whispers, bopping my nose with her own before pulling away from me.

———————————

Butterflies flap around my stomach, threatening to come up in a not-pretty way. My hands shake as I lift one to knock on the door of Y/N's apartment. The knocking feels loud as I do it. Maybe I knocked too loud.

The door swings open soon after, the door frame filling with the image of Y/N. She's dressed up with her hair down to cup her face. "Hi," I breathe out, my eyes drinking her in. She's so pretty, so perfect, so alive.

"Hello," she answers back, her eyes glancing at my hand. "You got me flowers?" Y/N asks, leaning against the door frame.

"Oh ya," I bark out, definitely too loud, as I push the bouquet toward her. I couldn't decide what flowers to get so I ended up getting three different bouquets and had the lady mix them. "Your favorite flowers are orange roses, but I didn't know if you still liked them or not, so I panicked and got more flowers than you probably need or want." That was dumb. Why did I say that? I feel like a thirteen-year-old with his first crush again.

"I still like orange roses," Y/N tells me, taking the flowers from me before walking back through the door. I follow after her, making sure to close the door behind me. Her apartment is small but cozy. There's not much in her home either but I guess that's expected since Y/N doesn't know herself.

There is a small couch and one of those old, bulky, shitty TVs tucked into her living room. The apartment smells nice, like pork and chili pepper. A million different dishes are stacked up around her countertop in the kitchen. "What are you making?" I ask her, sliding my jacket off before laying it on the couch.

"I'm making Pozole. I remember you liking it. Or I think you liked it. Somebody did at least," She mumbles a bit, keeping her attention to the pot on the stove in front of her.

"I like pozole. Alfred and you used to make it for me all the time."

Y/N's eyes light up at my words, making my chest fill with the warmth of joy. I walk into the cramped kitchen, making sure to stay out of her way as I stand in her presence. I watch her like a hawk as she works away, letting the warmth of the stove and the smell of dinner fill the space between us. For the first time in two years, I finally feel okay, finally feel at peace.

"You didn't answer my question the other day," I voice, sliding in closer to her. I want to hold her; I want to wrap my arms around her waist. I debate it for a second. I don't want to scare her off.

"What question?" Y/N asks, glancing at me before turning back to her project at hand.

"Is there anything you remember from our - er - your life?"

Y/N snaps the heat off, continuing to stir the pot as she thinks it over. "There's not a lot I do remember. I'm starting to remember this dude named Wally, I think. I don't know. I'm going to talk to Dick about him tomorrow. I remember a bit about Dick too but not much. I remember a bit about you... about us." Her eyes glance at me, before turning back to our dinner. She picks up some heat absorbers, wrapping them around the pot before setting it on a cutting board on the counter.

She's talking to Dick? About her memories? Or lack thereof, I guess. I don't want her talking to him. What's he going to say to her? What has he already said to her? What ideas is he putting into Y/N's head? Has Dick tried anything with her?

"What do you remember about us?" I ask, trying to push for more information as I try to forget my worried thoughts.

Y/N floats around the kitchen, taking out dishes for our food. My eyes trail her as she moves around the small space. "Umm... I remember us kissing a lot."

I chuckle a bit at that response. We do - did kiss a lot. We did other things a lot too. "Ya, ya we kissed a lot. We were very... touchy." Y/N giggles a bit as she makes our plates. My eyes keep glancing from her face to her hips. I really want to touch her. Before I can stop myself, I push off the counter I'm leaning on and wrap her up in me. My hands are firm on her hips and her back is pressed into my chest as I bury my head into her neck.

Y/N stiffens a bit in my hold before relaxing her muscles again. "We danced a lot too," I mumble into her neck, softly shifting her hips so we can sway together. She sways with me, her body weight feeling so good against mine. "You liked to read out loud to me too."

"Do you not know how to read?" She teases, shifting in my hold so we're face to face.

"I know how to read, I just read too slow for your liking."

"Oh ya?"

"Absolutely not, I just like your voice," I answer, lifting my head from her neck and placing our noses next to each other.

Y/N's hands slide up my arms, resting on my shoulders. "Our favorite book is The Great Gatsby, ya?"

My heart swells a bit at her words. "Ya, it is," I whisper, trying to focus my eyes on hers instead of her lips. It doesn't work so I decide to close my eyes, letting myself focus on her body heat instead. We stay silent, sitting like this, with me holding her. I could stay like this forever.

"Could you kiss me?" Y/N mumbles, shifting in my hold.

My eyes snap open, taking in her face. I roll the words over in my head. I already thought holding her was much for a "first date" and now she's asking me to kiss her? Maybe this is a trap. Maybe I'm making her feel like we have to move fast. Maybe Al Ghul is fucking with my head somehow. "Why?" I peep out, loosening my grip on her.

"Well, my therapist says doing stuff I used to do can help with my memories coming back. We were together ya?"

"Ya, we still are." Her face pinches some as her body stiffens again. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It isn't fair of me to expect a relationship from Y/N. She doesn't even know who she is, let alone who I am.

"Well, I thought maybe kissing you again would help. We don't have to-"

"I really want to kiss you," I say, cutting her off, and tightening my grip on her again. Y/N's hands slide to the back of my neck, her fingers shaking a bit against my skin but her body relaxes again. "Close your eyes," I mumble, sliding my nose against hers again.

Y/N obeys, fluttering her eyes shut. I take my time, trailing kisses across her nose, her eyes, and her cheeks, before placing myself above her mouth. I soak this scene in for a second before closing the gap between us. Her lips are soft against mine and taste like mint gum.

I shift my hands up, cupping her neck with one and softly dipping the other into her hair. All my need and want and love is boiled into the kiss. Our lips shift against each other for a while, the kiss getting heated way more than it meant.

As my lungs start burning, Y/N pulls back, making me a bit sad. I'd gladly suffocate to death from her kiss. "Jason," She murmurs, her words a little slurred.

"Say it again," I whisper back, tilting my head so our lips are close again.

"Jason," She mutters again. Her lips brush against mine as she speaks.

Fucking Christ. This is too hot, too heated, too much for her right now but I can't stop thinking about hearing her whisper my name all night. "I can't wait for you to fall in love with me again," I say, keeping my tone at a whisper as I glance over her face.

"Why is that?" Y/N asks, her fingers tangling into my hair.

"Because I still love you so fucking much."

———————————————————————

[shallowseeker]

The subconscious horror that Cas is an angel is dwelling in Dean’s subconscious in 14x10

///

[scoobydoodean]

I've been thinking about your meta about 5.16 as a Zach manipulation. It reminded me of the theory that the Ash scene is Dean's 3rd heaven room. It has Dean's coolest friends, Ash and Pam, and they reassure him they don't blame him for their deaths. Ash persuades him you can hack heaven and have fun with it; Pamela tells him heaven is great. All this propaganda for a special Dean heaven as a final reward for being Michael's meatsuit, like the angels later promise Adam will see his mum?

Pam does hit Dean and say "That's for getting me killed" in that scene. Ash is cool with being dead though, and Pam ends up saying heaven is a better place. I actually think Pam throwing in a dose of guilt then cooling it with the balm of heaven being a real paradise is perhaps more indicative of potential manipulations in play than her telling Dean she didn't blame him would be, because two primary component of Dean's motivations when running off to say "Yes" end up being 1) Minimize the destruction of the earth (i.e., the harm to others) 2) The weight of guilt over what happens if he's wrong—if they can't find a way to win, and then when EVERYONE dies (like what Zachariah showed Dean in "The End") Dean thinks it'll all be on him—it'll all be his fault that the world burned.

Bringing Pam back in 5.16 is interesting, because Dean's lowest point in season 4 was arguably "On The Head of A Pin", and that episode opened with Dean talking about Pam's death the previous episode.

SAM What's your problem? DEAN Pamela didn't want anything to do with this and we dragged her back into it, Sam. SAM She knew what was at stake. DEAN Oh yeah. Saving the world. And we're doing such a damn good job of it. SAM Dean— DEAN I'm tired of burying friends, Sam. SAM Look, we catch a fresh trail— DEAN And we follow it, I know. Like I said, I'm just—I'm just getting tired.

The episode closed with Dean saying that if HE was supposed to stop the apocalypse, "You guys are screwed". He followed that up by saying these burdens were too big, overwhelmed to the point of tears.

So bringing Pam back recalls a lot of negative emotions and a sense of deep hopelessness. Pam basically functions as a voice to remind Dean that he isn't qualified to stop the apocalypse. It's too big and he isn't strong enough. He'll fail (he's already been blamed for failing to stop Sam at the end of season 4 repeatedly). People he cares about will get hurt/die (and already have, like Pam and Ellen and Jo). Pam is also a reminder of risk. No matter what plan Team Free Will might come up with, it'll be risky—and Pam was the collateral damage of one of Dean's risky plans. Contrast this with how Pam represents heaven as a peaceful certainty. "No matter what happens, everyone will come here and it'll all be okay". So Dean might as well stop fighting, stop torturing himself, stop hand-wringing, and give in.

I also think that's a great point about Ash making heaven feel more "real" by giving the possibility of hacking it. All of this feels like a direct attempt to refute 4.22 when Dean fought with Cas in the beautiful room and said life on earth was better than heaven because it's real—that he'd take the pain and the guilt because it was a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. Pam says it doesn't matter if it's fake, and Ash represents being able to be in heaven without being a Stepford bitch. And the thing is, I wouldn't be surprised if Zachariah overheard that fight between Dean and Cas in 4.22 (especially based on how immediately he appeared to try and stop Cas when Cas returned to help Dean escape). If Zachariah overheard that, he'd know it was a defining aspect of not just Dean's but Cas's reasons for rebellion as well. Convincing Dean to abandon this perception of heaven as a false paradise would not only weaken Dean's resistance, but also weaken his bond with Cas as well by making Cas feel betrayed (which is exactly what ends up happening). 5.16 attempted to weaken Dean's resistance, but 5.13 through 5.16 were also all about weakening the unity of the family as a whole, starting all the way back with John and Mary, working through Sam and Dean's relationship with Bobby, Sam and Dean's relationship with one another, and then Dean and Cas's relationship.

What Pam says reeks of heavenly manipulations already (how does Pam know all of these details about Dean being a vessel anyway?) but Zachariah's influence also seems likely based on how Sam and Dean get inside the Roadhouse, and then what happens the moment they leave. What gets them into the Roadhouse is Zachariah "looking" for them in the woods. It's obvious he knows exactly where they are, but he appears to toy with them for no reason. He keeps popping up in front of them everywhere they run, until they bump right into Ash who leads them away. Sam and Dean are meant to believe they'd escaped Zachariah's awareness of their location by following Ash, but we immediately know that can't be true, because the moment they leave the Roadhouse they immediately fall right into Zachariah's most overt trap inside the old Winchester family house, and inside that trap, Zachariah confronts Dean with a completely fake Mary—so why wouldn't he have lead them to a completely fake Pam and Ash?

[offender42085]

Post 1154

Jeffrey Conroy, New York inmate 10A2652, born 1991, incarceration intake May 2010 at age 19, scheduled for parole consideration April 2030, with full release November 2033

Manslaughter, Gang Assault, Conspiracy, Attempted Assault as a Hate Crime

In May 2010, the white Long Island teenager convicted of killing a Hispanic immigrant in a 2008 hate crime attack in Patchogue was sentenced to 25 years in prison in a hearing that ended with the teenager’s father leaving the courtroom in a tearful rage.

The teenager, Jeffrey Conroy, then 19, stood next to his lawyer in State Supreme Court as Justice Robert W. Doyle told a courtroom filled with relatives, friends and supporters of both Mr. Conroy and the immigrant, Marcelo Lucero, that the proof of Mr. Conroy’s guilt was “overwhelming” and that he was convicted of “senseless and brutal crimes.”

The 25-year sentence was the longest possible for first-degree manslaughter as a hate crime, the most serious charge Mr. Conroy faced. Moments after the judge spoke, Mr. Conroy’s father, Robert Conroy, 49, a quiet presence in the courtroom during the nearly seven-week trial, stood up and, cursing, shouted that his son was only 17 at the time.

“This is mercy, for crying out loud?” he yelled from the back of the courtroom as he made his way outside surrounded by court officers, who restrained him briefly after he punched the doors or a wall.

Mr. Conroy was found guilty on April 19, 2010 of attacking Mr. Lucero in a train station parking lot in November 2008, one of a series of assaults that prosecutors said Mr. Conroy and six friends carried out as part of an activity that the young men described as “beaner-hopping” or “Mexican-hopping.”

Shortly before the sentencing was announced, Jeffrey Conroy seemed to apologize as he faced the judge. “I’m really sorry for what happened to Mr. Lucero,” he said, adding that every day he wished it never happened.

The defense lawyer, William Keahon, read aloud several of the nearly 100 letters that had been sent to the court from Mr. Conroy’s supporters — coaches, neighbors, and adult and teenage friends who asked for leniency. The letters described Mr. Conroy not as hate filled, but as someone who served as a volunteer mentor and coach to football and lacrosse players.

The letters also noted how Mr. Conroy had numerous Hispanic friends, including the woman he has said he plans to marry, Pamela Suarez, who is Bolivian.

But those sentiments were countered by the emotional words of the victim’s brother and sister.

Mr. Lucero’s younger brother, Joselo Lucero, 35, said that his brother became his role model and father figure after their father died when Joselo was 6. His brother’s death left him distraught, with nightmares and even thoughts of suicide, he said.

He spoke of justice for “the invisibles,” whom he described as the legal and illegal immigrants who come to the United States seeking a better life. “I don’t want this hate to continue,” he said.

Mr. Lucero, 37, a worker at a dry cleaning shop who had come from Gualaceo, Ecuador, was walking with a friend to another friend’s house on the night of the attack. They were surrounded by the seven young men, all students at Patchogue-Medford High School at the time, the authorities said.

After deliberating for four days, a jury found Mr. Conroy guilty of first-degree manslaughter as a hate crime and other charges, in connection with Mr. Lucero’s death. He was also found guilty of attempted assaults on three other Hispanic men. On the manslaughter charge, Mr. Conroy faced a minimum of 8 years and a maximum of 25 years.

Mr. Conroy received the maximum sentence on all the charges against him, but because the sentences are to run concurrently, and because he has already served nearly two years and will receive credit for good behavior, he could actually serve 18 years, his lawyer said.

4f

[msfcatlover]

Reverse!Robins/Titans Timeline

Still trying to pin this down. Not bothering with time intervals, just order of events.

(Gee, can you tell which parts of this team I’m still ironing out, and which ones I’ve put the most thought into?)

Batman: Zero Year

Joker debuts. (Duke’s parents caught in one of the attacks)

Duke starts patrolling/searching for his parents.

After running into Duke several times, Bruce makes Duke his crime-fighting partner to both train & keep an eye on him. Duke chooses the name “Moonbeam.”

Yara Flor becomes Wonder Girl. Bruce & Diana encourage their proteges to become friends, so that they have someone their own age who understands their vigilante problems to talk to.

Connor Hawke reunites with his father, and becomes Marksman (Green Arrow’s first sidekick.) Connor is also encouraged to join this friend group.

(Clark occasionally asks the teens to babysit his son Jon, when the adults are busy.)

Damian shows up in Gotham, making a huge splash & overturning the Batfam status quo. After killing a few criminals, Damian is forbidden from patrolling until he proves himself trustworthy.

(Damian does not join the group, but the others know about him because Duke complains. Damian does become friends with Jon after a little while.)

A ship crashes while the JL is busy. The teens go to investigate it, finding a single survivor who turns out to have speedster powers & complete amnesia. They use the Batcomputer to trace the ship, trying to help their new friend.

Damian sneaks onboard the shuttle the teens “borrow” to follow their trace, still trying to prove himself.

This team finds an illegal alien market and breaks it up, rescuing Pam in the process.

Upon return to Earth, the JL commends the kids for their work. A new team is formed with Yara as their leader, and named the “Teen Titans.” The lineup is:

Wonder Girl (Yara Flor)

Moonbeam (Duke Thomas)

Marksman (Connor Hawke)

Kid Flash (Bartholomew “Tolly” Taurus)

Menagerie (Pamela “Pam” Merlo)

Damian does not get to be part of the team, deemed too young, but he has proven himself enough to officially join Batman & Moonbeam on the streets. He goes by “Shadow.”

Arthur Curry asks if his protege, Kaldur'ahm, can join the Titans. Aqualad is added to the lineup.

Pam’s sister, Sonja, tries to get in contact. Whole arc occurs of Pam struggling with her own transformation and the two of them reuniting.

Chimera (Ra'ut L'lwer) joins the Titans.

Yara’s arc where she’s manipulated by Eros & Hera happens here.

Jon becomes Superboy, and joins the Titans.

Damian joins the Titans.

Tolly’s past comes to light, throwing his relationships with everyone in the community into chaos. The team barely manages to pull themselves together in time to mount a defense and keep him from being punished for the crimes of a life that was not his. 

Tolly still feels the need to pull away from the Titans a little out of guilt over what he’s done (especially to Pam.)

Barry Allen dies, and Tolly becomes the Flash.

Yara is at this point over 20, and feeling out of place at the head of the team. She starts to pull back a bit, trying to figure out where her life is going next.

Cassandra Cain is adopted by Bruce Wayne. Duke is the only one who can train against her, as his precognition lets him just about keep up with her body-reading abilities. They bond, and he introduces her to the team.

Spoiler debuts in Gotham. Batman tells her to go home.

Damian decides to make Spoiler his apprentice.

Anima (Courtney Mason) joins the Titans.

Yara announces she’s officially stepping down as leader of the Titans. Duke steps up, announcing his own change of name to “The Signal,” and officially passing his mantle to his little sister, Cassandra.

Anima & Chimera manage to figure out how to free Pamela from her swarm. Duke’s first official mission as team leader is facilitating this.

Pam leaves the Titans for a normal life with her sister. Many tears are shed.

[I’m just double-checking my current lineup.]

The Signal (Duke Thomas)

Marksman (Connor Hawke)

Aqualad (Jackson Hyde/Kaldur’ahm)

Chimera (Ra'ut L'lwer) 

Superboy (Jonathan Kent/Jon-El)

Shadow (Damian Wayne)

Moonbeam (Cassandra Wayne)

Anima (Courtney Mason)

Steph’s mom goes to rehab. Bruce fosters Steph in the meantime, and this is how she discovers their identities.

Damage (Grant Emerson) joins the Titans as community service, after his powers manifest by going completely haywire.

(Yara decides going by “Wonder Girl” is undermining her attempts to be an independent adult hero. She changes her name to “Diadem.”)

Damian introduces Steph to the team. Spoiler becomes a Titan.

Chimera announces she’s going independent and leaves the team.

Just like in canon, Grant’s trauma catches up with him and he has to step down from hero work. Connor takes Grant under his wing formally and they both leave the team.

Emiko Queen takes Connor’s place on the team, going by the name “Red Arrow.”

Duke is too overwhelmed by being Gotham’s only daytime hero and running the team, as well as feeling guilty for not giving Grant more support. He goes independent, leaving the team.

Jon & Damian step up as co-leaders of the Titans.

Roundhouse (William Wu) & Blue Beetle (Jaime Reyes) join the Titans.

Anima is stranded in another dimension on a mission with the team, in a dramatic act of self-sacrifice to ensure everyone else can make it home. Everyone is very upset, but they comfort themselves knowing she’s still out there being a hero, just... somewhere else.

After a lot of introspection, Aqualad decides to dedicate himself full-time to his studies & duties in Atlantis, and steps down from the team.

[Double-checking the lineup]

Superboy (Jonathan Kent)

Shadow (Damian Wayne)

Moonbeam (Cassandra Wayne)

Spoiler (Stephanie Brown)

Red Arrow (Emiko Queen)

Roundhouse (William Wu)

Blue Beetle (Jamie Reyes)

Damian & Jon decide to go independant together, becoming Bluhaven’s new superheroes as Nightwing & Flamebird. Damian formally passes his mantle to Steph in private before they announce the change to the team.

Steph & Cass take over as co-leaders.

Steph meets Tim at school, and they become fast friends. After a couple months of being study buddies, they start dating.

Jon introduces his adoptive younger siblings, the Super-Twins, to the team.

Vaporlock (Natasha Irons) joins the team.

Atom (Ray Palmer) is de-aged. He temporarily joins the team until he can recover his memories.

Argent (Antonia Monetti), Static (Virgil Hawkins), & Power Girl (Tanya Spears) join the team.

Atom goes back to normal and leaves.

Cass takes on Tim as her apprentice after catching him following the Bats around Gotham. Steph is a bit thrown by this discovery, but training together only stengthens her & Tim’s relationship.

Until Cass decides Tim’s ready to follow them on patrol (if not fight anyone yet,) and gives Tim the Spoiler mantle without asking, assuming it’s just a placeholder name and not realizing it has any special meaning to Steph.

(This is the beginning of the end, though they don’t realize it yet.)

Steph feels betrayed by the theft of her old identity and it compounds with her initial uneasiness over Tim befriending/dating her without telling her he knew their identities. She tries to put it aside for the good of the city, but can’t.

The sudden rockiness between Steph & Cass bleeds over into the Titans. When the team meets Tim, it becomes clear something about his apprenticeship with Cass is what has lead to the rift, though none of the Bats will clarify.

Emiko introduces her own apprentice, Mia Dearden, the second Marksman.

Steph & Tim have a really nasty breakup.

Steph has the same death she suffered in War Games.

The entire Batfamily are left reeling.

Tim gets fired.

Cass struggles to go on as both Moonbeam & the leader of the Titans, when she’s supposed to be part of a matched set. She ends up quitting both, and the team completely falls apart.

Cass puts together a new costume, made originally from old Batman suits, and gains the street name “Black Bat.” (She didn’t choose it, it was given to her; Batman has the yellow belt & circle, where Cass’s suit has neither. So which Bat is attacking? “The black bat.”)

Tim gives the family until after Steph’s funeral before dropping by (to argue his case, but if that doesn’t work, to pick up his stuff.) He sees Steph’s memorial, and is furious that Bruce would reduce Steph’s legacy to that.

After weeks of arguing, Tim throws on his own version of the Shadow costume (back to Damian’s original black, but the cloak is lined with Steph’s signature purple) and eventually forces his way into the role, refusing to let Steph’s dream die with her.

Damian is incensed by the whole mess that’s happening with Tim. That’s his mantle Tim is taking, and Damian’s still wracked with guilt that Steph died, blaming himself for not training her thoroughly enough. Damian demands that before Tim ever goes out as Shadow, Tim has to go to Bludhaven every weekend to train with Damian. 

The training is absolutely brutal, but Tim refuses to give up. Eventually, Duke finds out about it and goes to ream Damian out for taking things so far (and Jon, for not having already given Damian this same lecture.) Duke essentially tells Damian that Damian’s no better than the people who originally hurt Damian and storms out.

Duke tells Tim he doesn’t have to go back the next weekend. Tim shows up anyway. Damian stares blankly for a few seconds, then takes a very confused Tim out for ice cream.

(Damian spends years trying to be better, to make up for what he’s done, but he never manages to get over that double-dose of guilt. He veers hard in the other direction, being incredibly supportive whenever they’re around eachother, but also avoids Tim whenever Damian can justify it to himself, because it just... eats at Damian.)

Tim also pulls the Titans back together. Or, more accurately, he pulls Vaporlock, Marksman, and Blue Beetle back together, before he ends up recruiting... well, basically the Young Justice lineup to be his new team.

Tim’s parents die. Tim tries the whole fake uncle thing, but Damian rats him out.

(Somewhere in there, Tim ends up on Ra’s al Ghul’s radar.)

Jason tries to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason manages to convince the family to let him help. They offer him Moonbeam, but Jason doesn’t want to be Moonbeam. First of all, Jason can’t do any of that weird precog stuff Duke & Cass have going on; second, Jason’s personal hero was always the Shadow with the Crime Alley accent.

Tim gives Jason Spoiler instead (Tim himself thinking Spoiler is a training-wheel mantle, but more importantly, it was Steph’s.)

During a public event, Tim is shot by an assassin who took a contract from Ra’s. Laying in the hospital, Tim all but begs Bruce to go out on patrol and Jason to put on the Shadow costume, not wanting Tim’s injury to be the reason their identities got outed.

Tim’s spine was clipped by the bullet. While he’s not completely paralyzed, he’ll never be able to walk unassisted again, and even with mobility aids, Tim suffers from chronic pain thanks to the nerve damage.

(Tim finds a get well card from Ra’s, inviting Tim for a dip in the Lazarus pit whenever Tim’s ready to admit he “needs” it. Tim borrows Jason’s lighter and burns the note. Only Tim & Jason ever know about it.)

Tim becomes Oracle.

When Jason joins the Titans, it’s assumed he’ll be their new leader, as Shadow and/or Moonbeam have always been one of the leaders of the Titans. He also suffers a lot from the comparison to his predecessors, and with how people perceive the speed at which he took up Tim’s mantle.

Jason does win that place and prove himself as a leader, but it is a rough ride to get there.

[Jason’s Titans lineup]

Inherited from Tim:

Wonder Girl (Cassandra Sandsmark)

Impulse (Bart Allen)

Miss Martian (M’gann M’orzz)

Joined while Jason was Spoiler:

Red Devil (Edward Bloomberg)

Ravager (Rose Wilson)

DC (Daniel Chase)

(Yes, Danny thinks hero names are stupid and only ever used one to fake his own death. But, frankly, Danny used his real name as his spy code name, which makes him mocking everyone else for having hero names just… so goddam insufferable. I’m cutting the middle ground here; it’s not a full-on alias, but it’s not just shouting his real name in a high-stakes/arguably undercover situation.)

Joined under Jason’s leadership:

Beast Boy (Garfield Logan)

Raven (Rachel Roth)

Cyborg (Victor Stone)

Halo (Gabrielle Doe)

Risk (Cody Driscoll)

Redwing (Carrie Levine)

Prester (Jonathan Levine)

(I found a pair of twins I both know & like better than Jade & Obsidian. Seriously, John & Carrie are the best part of the entire Team Titans fiasco, and given we do see some overlap between the timelines, I’ve no idea why they got wiped from reality but fucking Mirage didn’t.)

Steph comes back to life. 

Cue the Lost Days/Red Hood arcs.

Steph does try to scare Jason out of being a hero with the fight at the Tower. She shows up in her Death Mask costume and frames it as a fair duel--“More fair than any other rogue will give you.”--to prove that non-powered (non-ninja) kids like them can only meet a nasty end. The fight doesn’t stay “fair” long, as Steph fights dirty to make her point, and throws both her own history & Jason’s insecurities into his face. Jason adapts, but doesn’t win, eventually left reeling by the reveal of Steph’s identity.

The fight is interrupted by Eddie, who gets back early from an off-planet mission and therefore was not factored into Steph’s contingencies for the other Titans. Steph escapes by first holding Jason in front of her with a knife to his throat, then driving the knife into his thigh, forcing Eddie to choose between going after her and keeping Jason from bleeding out.

Red Devil stays behind to cauterize the wound, and Death Mask gets away.

.

After that, the chronology gets a lot more muddled.

Steph reunites with the family after saving Jason from the Joker.

Bruce takes in Dick after Dick’s parents die, but it’s a very rough transition. Then Bruce dies, leading to the family falling apart all over again, Jason getting the Red Robin (”Bluejay”) arc, Cass becoming Batman, and Dick becoming her Moonbeam.

When Bruce comes back, Bluejay joins the Signal as a daytime hero.

When Bruce can eventually no longer be Batman and Cass steps up again, she’ll offer Jason Black Bat if he wants it. He accepts, and everyone assumes Dick will be Bluejay when Dick graduates from being Moonbeam.

When Dick grows up, his final hero identity will be Robin.

[k0zyb0n3rz]

I think I have the basics of how I want my AU. Now originally I was just gonna have it completely centered around Jonathan and his journey but I wanted it to be about all of them still. So my basic idea is like, The Rogues getting better, coming to terms with issues they face. A lot of the issues are real ones a lot of people face, both in industry and at home. I want their story to be them getting healthy, laying off the crime to just fix themselves in general. Even the Batman himself :-]

The idea might change in the future idk

the ones I have so far and their subjects I want to touch on some time in my au. TW for possible triggers

Jonathan Crane - feeling comfortable and at peace with one's own sexuality and religion without guilt and constant need for God's forgiveness

Harvey Dent - Drug abuse/addiction and Oversexualization in industries. In general, having control and limits. Don't be scared to say no kind of stuff

Edward Nygma - Gender Dysphoria and being trans in general. Just being comfortable in one's own skin discrimination and hurt. + some alcoholism

Oswald Cobblepot - Alcoholism/addiction and the journey of limiting oneself.

Harley and Joker - abuse, not being afraid to say no and speak up.

Jervis Tetch - not being afraid to ask for help from doctors and people in general.

Pamela Isley - opening up and being comfortable with those around you.

Kirk Langstrom - letting go and not being so clingy

Otis Flannegan - not always having to do things you don't want to. One can't fit in if they don't want to.

I want to try and get into some of these topics without like misinterpreting them some way or like making it look bad

[jordanstark007]

Chapter Three

Alex Cabot / Amelia Chase

And when Peter Smith came storming into her office, waving around a piece of paper, with an angry expression. It was seemingly confirmed, the reasons behind her conviction at least.

“How the hell is this aloud!” Alex looked up with a cocked brow, unappreciative of his tone but understanding of his position,

“Mr Smith, I need to know what your talking about in order to help.” Peter glared at Alex throwing the letter on her desk,

“That bitch sent me a letter, this is harassment, she’s harassing me.” Alex took a calming breathe,

“It’s not harassment Mr Smith.” If she was harassing anyone it would be me, Alex thought bitterly, she read the letter it was a simply apology, yet no admission of guilt in fact it stated.

‘I apologise for what Pam and Sydney did you and my part in not preventing it, and even aiding it, I have no expectations of forgiveness.’

That made Alex’s brows furrow, “Is this the only letter?”

He nodded, “She can’t do this, this is wrong I thought I was protected as a victim.”

Alex nodded, “You are but unfortunately there’s nothing I can do about one letter, but if she writes anymore, or anything else happens, come to me.”

Peter snarled aggravated, “That is fucking pathetic, after everything she’s done, to me! To my career! To my life! The other bitches that actually raped aren’t even paying for what they did!”

Alex looked up quickly, “Are you saying that Amelia Chase didn’t actually rape you?”

That caused him to backtrack really fast, “No that’s not- I’m angry I don’t know what I’m saying, goodye Ms Cabot.”

He stormed out of the room and Alex immediately began shoving files and documents into her briefcase, she needed to see Amelia. As she was near sprinting out of the office when she ran into Casey, quite literally,

“Alex is everything okay?” Alex shook her head shoving the letter into Casey’s hands,

“No, we need to go see Amelia, now.”

When Amelia was lead into the interrogation room, she smiled slightly at the sight of her sister and Alex. Although she had to admit seeing her sister was a surprise, not an unwelcome surprise but one none the less.

“And to what do I owe the visit?” Alex slid the letter across the table, Amelia examining it in calloused hands,

“Where did you get this?” Alex leant back in her chair with a small shrug,

“Peter Smith visited me today, he came yelling into my office, you didn’t actually rape him did you?” Amelia clenched her jaw, knuckles white at the force she gripped the letter,

“I cuffed him, I might as well have, and I fucked Sydney in the bed next to him while Pam did what she did, I’m still guilty.” Alex nodded,

“But not of rape, did you even murder Sydney Greene or was that all Pam as well?” Amelia levelled Alex with a glare as if she were telling Alex to drop the subject, but Alex refused to relent, she wasn’t known as the ice-queen for nothing.

“Sydney and I had been having an affair for months, my prints weren’t on the ceiling because I killed her, they were there because we’d had sex the night before. She left the rope’s up and Pam killed her, and her boyfriend of the week helped her do it.” Casey stood pacing exasperated,

“So you’ve been sat in here for a year, for crimes that you didn’t commit, you’ve been assaulted three times while in here for nothing, why, why do it?” Amelia sighed heavily her eyes locked with her sister,

“Because I was no better than Pamela Adler or Sydney Greene, I could have stopped it, I didn’t. I deserve to sit in here.” Alex’s head fell into her hand,

“Facilitating a rape, is a 7 year sentence which is often dropped to 5 years probation, and you don’t have to register as a sex offender, Amelia you need to fight this.” She shook her head,

“No Sydeney’s dead, and Peter Smith will never be the same, someone has to pay for that.” She stood walking over to the door,

“I love you Andy, guard!” She was escorted back to her cell and Casey stared at Alex hopelessly, the ADA huffed packing up,

“What do we do now?” Alex looked over at her partner,

“We fight this, if she won’t then we’ll do it for her.”

The next time Alex saw Amelia, the convict was once again being dragged to Alex’s office uncuffed, “Why am I here Alexandra?”

Alex smiled opening the file on her desk pulling out photos and documents, “I’m reopening your case, with your revised statement, and what Peter Smith, I’ve spoken to a defence attorney friend of mine, and with the people dropping their murder and rape charge considering your not actually guilty, he’s confident considering your exemplary conduct while incarcerated that you’ll be given 2 to 5 years probation for the facilitation, the only thing for you to do is speak to a therapist friend of mine and Casey’s who will determine you were suffering from intense guilt and maybe PTSD that lead to your pleading guilty.”

Amelia growled under her breathe leaning against her chair, “Why are you so determined to help me, Alexandra, I’m a bad person I thought you understood that.”

Alex cocked a brow, “I thought you were until I started getting flowers after every big case.”

Amelia pursed her lips, “I’ll stop sending the flowers.”

“Don’t.” They stared at each other, Alex edging closer to Amelia slowly,

“What will happen to Peter?” Alex shrugged now only a meter away from Amelia,

“You can sue for defamation of character or the DA’s office might decide to prosecute for obstruction and hindering a police investigation, maybe even wrongful imprisonment, that’s out of my hands.” Her hands traced the scar that now blemished Amelia’s brow,

“And how does your boss feel about you helping a convict, get out.” Alex frowned,

“After my sighed statement about what Peter said to me, and what you said to me and Casey, he left it to my discretion. Casey vouched for you she said that she was your sister and she believed you.” A tear built up in Amelia’s eyes,

“She admitted that she was my sister?” Alex nodded,

“She said she knew who her sister was, that she was ambitious, sometimes reckless but a rapist and murderer that was something you weren’t.” Amelia’s eyes narrowed although Alex could still see the vulnerability swimming in pools of green,

“And what do you think?” Alex leant forward their lips inches apart,

“I agree.” Amelia closed the gap, her hands on Alex’s waist pulling her closer so that their bodies were flush together, melding together.

“I’m not sure conjugal visits were apart of my agreement councillor.” Alex smirked,

“I think the people can make an exception.”

Alex had been contemplating her humanity over the past few months criticising herself for her affection she held for a convict, cursing herself out when she’d smile at the bouquet of flowers on her desk, but being in Amelia’s arms strewn out on the leather couch of her office, she didn’t question anything, she was calm, serene.

She wasn’t calm however when Peter Smith came storming into her office, while she and Casey discussed tactics on another of SVU’s cases they were prosecuting together.

“What the hell are you doing, your dropping the rape conviction against the woman who raped me.” Alex shook her head, as she stood rounding her desk to perch on the wooden furniture next to Casey,

“No I’m dropping and expunging the rape conviction of a woman you wrongly accused, you admitted it yourself in this office. My only question is why?” He snarled lunging for her yells escaping his throat,

“You bitch!” Casey however was not about to allow her friend to be attacked, jumping in the way taking the punch before delivering her own blows, Alex called for help immediately, panicking as she watched Casey trade blows with the man.

“Casey!” When security arrived Casey was panting spitting the blood that coated her teeth into a tissue Alex offered as she held up the strawberry blonde, the bruises already forming on her face and Peter Smith unconscious on the floor also bloodied and bruised.

[goldenclairs]

it      seemed       to      be      PERFECT       timing       when       braeden      met      pamela.            as      himself      bared       the       wwe       championship       belt      during       his       first       super-win       and       parade          ,           two      worlds       collided.           the      two       met      through       baron      corbin       who       greeted       braeden       after      a       win       in      kansas      city.              [  THAT WAS AROUND 2020  AND THEY’VE BEEN GOING STRONG FOR FOUR YEARS SINCE   ].          at      every      milestone         ,          watching       her       climb      the       ladder       with      hard      work      and      dedication         ,         braeden       was      there.              this      was      the       one       instance      where      his      career      made       him      unable       to       attend      pam’s       milestones.           braeden      knew      no       matter       if       he       was       going      to       the      super-bowl      or       not          ,           he      would       make       this      up      her.  

 he      made      sure      he       was      on       facetime      call       with       her      immediately       after       to       relive      that      moment      as      close       as       humanly       possible       to      her.               braeden       had       been      away       from       her      before      and      things      we’re         comfortable      ,         but       in      this      instant         ,          he      felt      guilt.              it      only       made      their       reunion       even       more       sweet.              hands      played       with      hers         ,          leaning       back       against       bed      frame      as      the      other      had       it      wrapped      around       her      as       they      embraced      closely       on       the      bed.           they       talked       all       night          ,          celebrating      both       their      triumphant       victories.        

 braeden’s       eyebrows       furrowed       at       her      question.           he       didn’t       even       have       to       think       of       his       response.      “          there’s       no      place       i’d      rather      be.   “           bringing       her      hand       up       to       press       his       lips      against      the      back       before       laying       it       gently       back       down.    “     i love you.     “ 

⊹ rvbelhearts 𓈒 ۫ ﹙ 𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕔𝕖 ﹚ ۪ ֹ " will you stay with me ? "