Lady Azula

azula is my wife

[nyxthedragon225]

wfa panel redraw in da house 🔝🔝🔝

[oifaaa]

I won't lie I've not really been registering much about the hush 2 story but I'm choosing to believe this means they've undone the retcon and jason was no longer actually clayface and that's a win for me bby

[elusive-honeydew]

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬 *ೃ༄

recs masterpost • dc masterlist

-ˋˏ [𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒] ˎˊ

The Vampire's Masquerade | @ragingbookdragon

vampire!reader saves Jason's life. | smut

A Fool's Errand | ^

tamaranean!reader is dating both Jason and Roy. | fluff + suggestive + crack fic

Jason & Damian | @veronica-17-hood

Jason finds you playing chess with his little brother. | fluff + crack fic

Only For You | @makethatelevenrings

You woke up feeling like shit. If only a certain simp vigilante was there to help. | fluff

-ˋˏ [𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒 & 𝐇𝐂𝐒] ˎˊ

tired soft dom!jason | @kirbyskisses

jason offers to help you with your hair | ^

staying up at night with him | ^

jason crying from overstimulation | ^

jason and his girlfriend who really loves pink | @urmoonlightbebe

jason + touchy!reader | @katsumox

nsfw hcs | @thesandsofelsweyr

somnophilia | @kumori-suwan

movies, books & deceitful lies | @/ragingbookdragon

bruce catches jason and reader kissing | @xxgoblin-dumplingxx

brother's best friend | @agentofkrypton

itty bitty titty committee | @gangrenados

"I like being close to you. you're warm" | ^

jason realizing he's in love | @littleredwing89

-ˋˏ [𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒] ˎˊ

The Commander | @batarella

"[...] Guns were an extension to her limbs. An extension to what she was. She could feel it merge with her body the moment she picks one up from the armory. She took out her binoculars and looked into the target. Bulls eye." | arkham knight!jason + a whole lot of angst and smut and everything you could wish for, it's my fav jason series fr fr

3 birds, 1 stone | ^

Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers ‘till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart? The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it? | a whole lot of angst and you can choose who you end with, but I chose Jason so...☝🏼🗣

⚠︎ REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS ⚠︎

bunny divider by @v6que | lace divider by @aoneybb

[elusive-honeydew]

𝐃𝐂/𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 *ೃ༄

recs masterpost • dc masterlists recs

↷ Jason Todd

↷ Bruce Wayne

↷ Dick Grayson

↷ Roy Harper

⚠︎ REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS ⚠︎

bunny divider by @v6que | lace divider by @aoneybb

[lvdyazula]

jason todd being a canon leo is very jason todd

[lvdyazula]

friendly reminder that astrology is lit real

[lvdyazula]

actual jump scare

[thesandsofelsweyr]

The Sus Boy Next Door, Part 2/3

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

Words: 2,748 // Chapters: 1 2 3

Pairing: Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

Warnings: Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

Taglist: @tild3ath @iiirhiane-g 💕

Notes:

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Please consider reblogging if you enjoy the read ❤️ (Thanks for all the support you've given my lil story so far!)

Also on AO3 (Comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You push yourself to your feet and hurry over to his kitchen, flipping on the recessed lighting overhead. The kitchen is as bare and spotless as the other rooms you’ve seen, its countertops clear of the usual clutter you’d expect. No rags nor paper towel roll. No knife block nor coffee maker nor toaster—the appliances are the ones that come standard with the unit. No stacks of unopened mail nor candles nor cookbooks nor a sink full of empty dishes. No signs of life except for the adorable houseplant and some liquid hand soap beside the sink (which is good—you need soap).

You pull open drawers and cabinets, feeling a twinge of guilt for invading his privacy like this but it can’t be helped. Even those are mostly empty, only containing the barest amount of necessities like cups, dishes, and flatware—run-of-the-mill kitchen items that were probably provided with the furnished unit. You do manage to find some clean rags and paper towels (and a coffee maker), but nothing like sandwich bags for the ice. On a whim, you check his freezer and bingo! No food or decapitated heads but plenty of ice packs along with an unopened bottle of vodka. You arch an eyebrow at the curious yet amusing stash. Perhaps coming home injured is a typical Friday night for him.

You turn on the sink faucet then tear off a few sheets of paper towels from the roll, wadding them up and wetting them before adding a few pumps of soap then working up a lather. You can’t get the sight of his bleeding face and swollen neck out of your head. It’s hard to imagine anyone doing that to him against his will. He’s an intimidating guy, to say the least. Over a head taller than you, powerfully built with broad shoulders and thick thighs (and a nice ass). Perhaps he got jumped on his walk home—an all too common occurrence on these crime-ridden streets—and his stubborn pride was too wounded to go to the ER. Or maybe it was a gang thing… some sort of hazing ritual? That could explain the bloody letter on his cheek, too, you suppose. But then you remember his shaking hands and fumbling fingers as he tried and failed to unlock his door, and how he jumped at the sound of your voice. He was scared, you realize, your heart swelling with sudden pity. He was more afraid of you than you were of him. Afraid, and probably hurting, too. That thought makes your heart swell even more. It also leaves you a bit shaken. What in God’s name could frighten him? You can only hope that whatever it is doesn’t plan to make a house call anytime soon.

With the items in hand—ice packs, wet and dry rags, soapy paper towel wads, paper towel roll—you return to his side. He still doesn’t appear to have stirred, which is troubling, you have to admit, but you put it out of your mind for now. You set the items down on the floor beside the corpse-like body before grabbing a throw pillow from his couch. (Yes, a throw pillow. There’s a throw blanket on the couch, too. It’s the strongest evidence yet supporting your furnished unit presumption, since he definitely doesn’t strike you as a throw pillow kind of guy.) You kneel down at his side, then, ever so gently, you slip an arm behind his neck and lift his head enough to pull back his hood and slide the pillow beneath him. Next you take off his cap, revealing a mop of sweat-damp black hair. You sweep the soft locks back from his forehead so that you can place a cold rag against that warm, sweat-slick skin.

That’s when you notice the scars. You’d never been close enough to him to see that his face is absolutely covered in them. Faint white lines that cut through his features: his dark brows, his full lips, his freckle-dusted cheeks, the bent bridge of his nose. The worst one (aside from the J on his cheek, that is) is a deep gash that slashes across his right cheek and his nose, all the way up to his forehead. Another knife wound? Is this guy a masochist with a knife fetish or is there some freak out there who gets off on slicing up this poor guy’s face? Those marks on his neck imply the latter—the more sinister of the two—and that sends a cold chill shuddering up your spine.

Almost magnetically your eyes are drawn back past the (cute) cleft in his chin to those sunken bands of red ringing his throat. A thin line of blood has surfaced along the outer edge of one of the bands, where whatever was used to strangle him had cut into his skin. As you wipe away the blood with one of the soapy paper towel wads you spot several scratches on his neck, and for a moment you wonder if the assailant also used his hands to choke him. But then you feel your own throat constrict as the horrible realization sets in: those are claw marks. Gouges from his own fingernails where he desperately struggled to pry the ligature away and free his windpipe so he could breathe. Defensive wounds where he fought for his life.

You set aside the wet wad, then, driven by some morbid curiosity, you find your fingers returning to his throat. Ever so delicately, as if trying not to wake a sleeping lion, you touch one of the raw indentations in his swollen flesh, tracing it with your fingertip, feeling how the abraded skin had folded inward around whatever had coiled around his neck and tried to choke the life out of him. His throat vibrates gently against your probing fingers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. You lay one of the dry rags across his throat, hiding the hideous damage, then place the ice pack on top, as instructed by the health article you Googled. You do the same for the back of his neck as well.

Now you turn your attention back to his scarred, haggard face. After swiping away the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth you press the soapy paper towel to his cheek, which gradually turns from white to pink as it soaks up the blood seeping from the J carved into his flesh. Once you staunch the bleeding, you lift the towel to replace it with a fresh one, and you get an unimpeded view of what was hiding beneath the cut and the blood, beneath his hat and hood all of those times you passed him in the hallway, all of those times he ducked his head between hunched shoulders to avoid eye contact with you. You pull in a sharp breath. It’s not a J-shaped scar; it’s the letter J branded into his cheek. You can tell by how the skin is puckered around the too-precise curve of the raised letter, by its faint red outline, by how it seems to tug uncomfortably at his cheek.

Your mind rewinds to a few weeks back when you accidentally burned your neck with your curling iron. You’d shrieked like a banshee then thrown the damn thing across your bathroom. The blistered patch of seared skin had throbbed for the rest of the night, and was still sensitive to the touch for the following week. That was the result of hot ceramic glancing against your skin for maybe half a second, if that long. You can’t even begin to imagine how much it would’ve hurt to have held the infernal thing against your neck for long enough to melt a fucking letter into the flesh. And not just any flesh. His cheek; that tender skin right below the orbital bone, less than an inch from his eye. It probably felt like his eyeball was boiling in his eye socket from the immense heat. And the smell! His own flesh barbecuing like meat to be served at a cannibal cook-out…

You don’t want to think about it anymore. You can’t think about it anymore or else you’re gonna be sick. And luckily you don’t have to because a low moan slips from his lips and his lashes begin to flutter. A rush of relief floods through you at the small signs of life, and you absently begin to stroke his soft hair with your hand. Heavy eyelids strain to lift then glassy blue eyes are peeking out from between the slits. You smile down at him, your fingers caringly combing through his tousled hair, easing his way back into consciousness. You expect him to groggily ask where he is or what happened to him.

Instead his eyes snap open, and the romantic portrait you’ve painted inside your mind of this moment is ripped to shreds.

He bolts upright, sending rags and ice packs flying away from him, then that massive wall of muscular torso turns on you. Time seems to somehow speed up and slow down simultaneously as those large, dangerous hands of his are reaching for you, and in that terrible instant you know without a doubt that he means to strangle you. A tiny, panic-stricken sound—the choked cry of ensnared prey—comes from your mouth as you throw up your arms across your face and neck in an comically feeble attempt to defend yourself from certain death, and the thought that flashes through your mind—maybe the last thought you’ll ever have in this lifetime—is that you’ll never have the chance to open that bottle of merlot.

But his hands don’t wrap around your throat; they land on your shoulders, and then you’re sliding, falling backwards from the force of a violent shove, your vision flashing to black as your head bounces off the hardwood floor.

“Ow!” you squeal as a bright burst of pain rings through your skull, leaving you stunned for a split second until your fear takes over, clearing away the haze and stars. You push yourself up on your forearm, blood pounding through your ears as your eyes frantically search for your attacker, heart lurching as you find him.

The guy is scrambling backwards away from you on all fours like some frightened beast, slamming into a floor lamp in his haste to escape. The lamp reels drunkenly, throwing light madly around the room as it whirls, like a waving searchlight at a festival. Then he’s pressed into a corner, able to go no further, yet his hands and heels are gripping the floor for purchase, as if he’s trying to push himself into the walls. As the lamp settles, somehow still upright, its light illuminates the hulking figure backed into the corner behind it, and you notice for the first time that the front of his red hoodie is splattered with an even darker red.

You’re sitting up now, frozen like a deer in headlights, your fight or flight reflexes canceling each other out because you’ve realized that you’re the toothless predator, not the prey, and the guy you’re gaping at with his bloodless face and wild eyes is a cornered animal who’ll do anything to survive. Then, to your horror, that cornered animal seems to remember his claws and reaches for the gun that’s not there, and you thank the universe and every holy entity within it that you disarmed him.

His wide eyes narrow as they lock onto you, and the fear that had filled them only a heartbeat ago has vanished, replaced with a look so cold, so devoid of anything but shadows and darkness, that it turns the blood in your veins to ice. 

“Who are you? What’re you doing in my apartment? What the fuck did you do with my gun?” Some of the wildness returns to his eyes as he shouts at you with a scarred voice, wheezing between each sentence. You shrink back, shocked that the guy can speak louder than a mumble, then your attention is caught by something more unnerving than his shouting, something that clutches at your insides. His eyes… The little hairs on the back of your neck stir again as you study those pale blue irises flecked with green, barely visible beneath his blown-out pupils yet still trained on you like a sniper’s laser sights. There’s something wrong with his eyes… But before you can figure it out he roars: “Answer me!” and you can’t help but jump at the hateful ferocity, his deadly strength palpable in his tone.

Your heart’s in your throat again, and your mind is racing out his door, terrified all 200-something pounds of him are about to pounce on you, so you’re surprised when you not only find your words, but shout them back at him, just as vicious.

“Take it easy! I'm your neighbor, remember? You passed out. I was trying to help you. I thought you were fucking dying!”

You see a flicker of recognition flash over his face before a coughing fit takes him. Then it hits you, like a punch to the gut as you watch him clutching at his blood-splattered chest again as he gasps for a breath. His eyes… they’re red where they should be white. All of the binged episodes of Forensic Files come flooding back to you and you even remember the term for it: petechial hemorrhaging. Burst blood vessels from strangulation. His strangulation.

The rush of pity that wells up in your chest at the awful realization calms your fear enough that you crawl a tiny bit closer to him. “You’re hurt,” you say gently, trying to keep your nerves from shaking your voice. “Your neck…”

You trail off as his eyes snap back to you, pupils still blown wide. You try to hold onto his skittish gaze, praying he won’t notice his gun behind you and lunge, but his eyes fall away to the floor. He raises his free hand to his neck, as slowly as if his wrists were chained to the floor, and touches one of the red furrows there. Then his trembling fingers move to his brand, where fresh beads of blood have surfaced. You hear him mutter something so low and tremulous it’s barely audible, but you think it sounded like… “Plan J”?

“I cleaned it with soap and water,” you reply as he stares blankly at his bloody fingertips. “But it’s deep. You may need stitches. I can bring you some Band-Aids,” you pause, feeling really fucking stupid for suggesting Band-Aids for the guy who’s been strangled and cut and branded. You blurt out the rest: “If you need them… for the time being.”

His eyes have glazed over, as if he’s gone somewhere far away. Somewhere terrible, because his rasping breath quickens and his whole body starts to shake, as though he’s reliving something. His attack? His branding? All of the times that monster of a person cut his face? You desperately want to reach for his hand, to pull him back from whatever hell he’s been sucked into, but you’re too scared to wake that cornered wild animal again.

Finally he snaps out of it, and his eyes close as his hand drops limply to the floor. You watch helplessly as the tension drains from his body and he sags forward, like he’s been crushed by whatever was waiting for him in that flashback.

“You should go,” he mumbles to the floor, barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself agree. As you stand you remind yourself that you can finally have that glass of wine, but the notion isn’t as appealing as it was earlier in the night.

You gather up your phone and bag. You start to ask if you can get him anything before you go but you know his answer so you turn to leave. 

“Thank you.” His small voice cracks like a little boy’s when he speaks, and you know he’s started to cry.

“Yeah, sure,” you say softly as you turn the knob and push open his door. You glance over your shoulder at him one last time. The sight of the broken boy—the boy whose name you still don’t know—huddled in a corner with his knees pulled to his chest, weeping into his hands, wrings your heart out like a wet rag, and you feel your own throat tighten up with tears. You hang your head as you shut the door softly behind you.

[dxckgrxsonx]

Series MasterList

Summary - Sent an unsolicited dick pic from a man you went on a date with a few days ago, Jason Todd takes it upon himself to send one back. Unknowingly kickstarting the realisation that even though he’s your best friend, you can’t stop thinking about how big he is and how much your feelings have progressed since you first met.

Pairing - Jason Todd x Reader (Idiot Best Friends to Lovers)

Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Slow Burn - Nudes - Videos of Sexual Acts - Masturbation - Violence - Fluff - Angst - Comfort - Lots of Swearing - Casual Intimacy / Platonic Affection - So many Feelings! - Idiots to Lovers.

Notes - I never expected to get such an overwhelming positive reaction to these two idiots and I cannot thank you all enough for the support you’ve given throughout the series so far. Not all warnings have been added yet as I’m not finished with the series, but I will add them as I go along.

On-Going Series

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven - Coming Soon…

[dxckgrxsonx]

Series MasterList

Summary - Sent an unsolicited dick pic from a man you went on a date with a few days ago, Jason Todd takes it upon himself to send one back. Unknowingly kickstarting the realisation that even though he’s your best friend, you can’t stop thinking about how big he is and how much your feelings have progressed since you first met.

Pairing - Jason Todd x Reader (Idiot Best Friends to Lovers)

Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Slow Burn - Nudes - Videos of Sexual Acts - Masturbation - Violence - Fluff - Angst - Comfort - Lots of Swearing - Casual Intimacy / Platonic Affection - So many Feelings! - Idiots to Lovers.

Notes - I never expected to get such an overwhelming positive reaction to these two idiots and I cannot thank you all enough for the support you’ve given throughout the series so far. Not all warnings have been added yet as I’m not finished with the series, but I will add them as I go along.

On-Going Series

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven - Coming Soon…

[baelatargaryen]

Amber Heard vs. Johnny Depp Fact Check: MASTERLIST (28/04/2022)

VIOLENCE/ABUSE:

Heard has proven 12 out of 14 incidents of abuse by Depp “to the civil standard.

Texts from Depp’s assistant shows his assistant saying Depp kicked Heard; “He was appalled. When I told him he kicked you, he cried…It was disgusting. And he knows it.”

Depp is on audio telling Amber Heard to cut him. He continues to tell her to cut him while wielding a knife, and she is heard begging him to put the knife down.

Texts from Depp to Paul Bettany joke about murdering Amber and raping her dead body.  (Video of it being read in court here)

Texts about him talking about smacking Amber Heard around.

Audio reveals Depp shouting and calling Heard a “fat ass” a “cunt” and Heard telling him to put his cigarettes out on someone else.

“‘Her lip was swollen and busted up a bit, and she also had these horrible cuts on her arms – like gashes … The she told me that the cuts on her arms were from the broken glass that was from him throwing bottles and smashing glasses all over the place.’” (Heard’s sister, Whitney). 

“Ms Pennington said that she could see gashes on Ms Heard’s arms from her wrists to her elbows. In cross-examination Ms Pennington said that one arm was cut worse than the other. Ms Heard told Ms Pennington that the soles of her feet were also cut. Ms Heard said that Mr Depp had thrown a bottle at her; there had been broken glass all over the ground which was how she had cut her feet.“

Johnny destroying Heard’s closet: “Good morning sir … So …. um Johnny destroyed Amber’s closet”.  (page 82)

“As Ms Lloyd said, ‘We had to restrain both of them.’” Depp supposedly instigated the violence, Heard retaliated. (page 81/82)

Diary entry by Heard talks about Depp strangling her and hitting her in the head: “Our fight was terrible. J [Mr Depp] finally at one point found himself with his shirt wrapped around my neck… He hit me several times. I don’t even know how I wound up with this huge rather annoying knot on the back of my head?” (page 84)

Depp refers to the fight on the train as getting “physical”: ‘..other than the fact that we had a fight on the train, which was physical…’ (page 83)

Text message from Heard to her publicist; “ I’m really bruised and might have a black eye or two tmrw – same with my nose. Nurse on the way to make sure I don’t have concussion.” There are also texts to her psychotherapist saying it’s an ‘emergency’ and a text to a friend in which she says “J beat me up pretty good”. (page 87)

Photos of Heard bruised “which the metadata shows were taken on the morning and afternoon of 16th December 2015”. (page 88)

Makeup artist recalls having to cover up bruising on Heard’s nose, eyes, and her lip injury with red lipstick. (page 89)

Although Depp claims Heard hit him at a party in 2016, the photos of injury Depp claims happened in 2016, where found to be from 2015: “This version of the picture has a date stamp of 23rd March 2015. It could not have been taken after the birthday party on 21st April 2016.” The photo instead was from a previous occasion in which Ms Heard already admitted that she punched Mr Depp. (page 99)

Despite police claims, photos of Heard injuries with meta data show she did sustain injuries by Depp: “There are the photographs. The metadata is not disputed and shows that one of the photographs of Ms Heard’s face was taken before the first pair of police officers arrived.” They also show damage to the apartment. (page 107)

Depp texted Bettany that he “pounded and displayed ugly colors to Amber on a recent journey”.

HEARD’s CLAIMS: 

Heard has previously admitted to hitting Johnny and throwing things at him to defend herself in her original 7hr deposition. (2016)

“She admitted that in the course of this argument, she struck Mr Depp in order, she said, to protect Whitney.” (page 80)

In regards to the donations: “Amber has already been responsible for seven figures in donations to charitable causes and intends to continue to contribute and eventually fulfill her pledge. However, Amber has been delayed in that goal because Mr. Depp filed a lawsuit against her, and consequently, she has been forced to spend millions of dollars defending Mr. Depp’s false accusations against her.”   

“Please tell people it was a fair fight and see what the jury and judge think. Tell the world, Johnny. Tell them, Johnny Depp. I, Johnny Depp, …. man*, I’m-I’m a victim too of domestic violence and I, y’know, it’s a fair fight and see how many people believe or side with you”.

[*NOTE: Heard is using “man” as in “oh, man”, not in reference to Depp’s gender.]

“Full audio shows Heard talking about how their relationship is not “fair fight”, he scoffs and replies “it doesn’t matter” and “fair fight, my ass”, Heard responds “exactly” and that Depp is “bigger and stronger”. Heard goes on to talk about why she felt the need to call 911 after he threw the phone at her face and laid his hands on her.

THE FINGER CLAIM:

Deuters (Depp’s friend) admitting that the story of Depp’s injury was a public relations disaster and saying: ‘Just make sure you say you aren’t sure how he hurt his hand. (page 75)

Depp’s texts to his doctor states he cut his own finger off. Another text is found of Depp again saying he cut his own finger off. Doctor’s notes show the injury is more suggestive of a crushing mechanism. In fact, Depp told three separate people that he cut his own finger off.

Depp heard on tape stating, “I’m talking about Australia. The day I chopped my finger off”.

“Nor did Mr Depp say that Ms Heard had been responsible for the injury to his finger in either of his two texts to sister Christi on 8th March 2015.” (page 78)

FECES PRANK/CLAIM:

Heard did not defecate in Depp’s bed and the previous judge ruled it unlikely. The judge in the previous case ruled it likely it were the dogs, as there was evidence it “had an incomplete mastery of her bowels.”

“Ms. Heard gave evidence that Boo had in the past defecated on the bed and that she herself had cleaned it up rather than leave that task to Ms Vargas.” (page 100)

Furthermore, Depp is on text’s with his assistant’s suggesting to him to defecate and tell Amber it was the dogs as a prank

DRUGS/ALCOHOL:

Texts from Depp’s daughter (Lily-Rose Depp) and Depp himself show that Amber helped him stay sober. Depp talking to his mother-in-law, Paige Heard about Amber helping him.

Texts from Heard and Lily-Rose Depp show the two had an amicable relationship. 

Texts show Depp’s constant use of alcohol and drugs, mentioning his “blackouts”. More texts here, and here. Texts show Depp referring to his addiction as the “Monster”, even to Elton John who was helping him with his sobriety. 

An audio shows Depp telling Heard he will never get clean or sober.  Amber can be heard crying. Another audio shows Heard crying and saying, “All the coke you’ve done today, and all the booze you’ve drunk today, has it helped us?”

PREVIOUS LIBEL CASE:

As stated, the previous judge ruled Heard has proven 12 out of 14 incidents of abuse.

“For all of these reasons I accept that the Defendants have shown that the words they published were substantially true in the meanings I have held them to bear. The Claimant has not succeeded in his action for libel.” (2020)

Depp’s previous lawyer, Adam Waldman was accused of dishonesty, and was thrown off the case for leaking confidential information to the press and social media which was protected via court order. 

Depp’s team was accused of using bots to influence opinion of social media.  Bot Sentinel, a group that uses artificial intelligence to detect and track troll bots & suspect Twitter accounts, found the actress “had been a victim of an ongoing targeted harassment and smear campaign”. 

(Waldman is a long-time US lobbyist for Russian oligarchs.) 

OTHER OPINIONS/LINKS:

Depp in texts talking about wanting to cause “global humiliation” for Heard.

Depp defending Roman Polanski: “Roman is not a predator. He’s 75 or 76 years old. He has got two beautiful kids, he has got a wife that he has been with for a long, long time. He is not out on the street.”

Depp is close friends with Marilyn Manson, who has his own abuse allegations against him, and who is also suing his victims for defamation. 

PREV. LEGAL ISSUES & CAREER:

Depp was arrested in 1989 for assaulting a security guard after the police were called to end a loud party at his hotel room.

He was also arrested in New York City in 1994 after damaging a hotel room he was staying in with Kate Moss.

Depp brawling with the paparazzi. 

In 2018, Depp assaulting crew member on the set of City of Lies.

In 2018, two of Depp’s former bodyguards sued him for unpaid fees and unsafe working conditions. The suit was settled in 2019.

Depp was constantly late and drunk on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean. 

Depp will also supposedly receive his full salary for the third Fantastic Beasts movie, despite filming only one scene for it and being asked to leave the project.

Texts show that Depp told Heard she was not to take roles, stating “No goddamn meetings. No movies”. (x)

Depp admits to getting, “irrational”, “crazy”, and “jealous” when Heard is filming.

Charges against Heard for bringing her dogs to Australia were dropped; it was a supposed mix-up with her staff being dismissed who were to do the paperwork. Heard apologised, and admitted to her wrongdoing, pleading guilty.  

Heard sought a restraining order from Depp in 2016. She also sought an order requiring Depp to attend 52 weeks of anger management courses. (page 19)

PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: 

Depp started dating Winona Ryder when she was a minor, and 17 years old to his 25 [edit:] 26 years.  (Depp is 23 years older than Heard.)

Depp called his ex-wife a “French extortionist ex-cunt” and a “withering whore”. 

Heard was granted a restraining order against Depp. 

Depp was the one to originally ask Amber to settle outside of court, and the couple issued a statement that, “Neither party has made false accusations for financial gain.”

Heard’s previous girlfriend has come to Heard’s defence, saying that Heard never abused her and that the police officers who claimed it had misogynistic and homophobic attitudes once they realised Heard and her were partners.

Ellen Barkin, Depp’s ex, testified Depp threw a wine bottle at her during an argument between Depp and his assistant. (page 43)

DEPP’S JEALOUSY:

Depp has used abusive language towards Heard for her sexuality and her past relationship with women, calling her a “lesbian camp counsellor”. He was also jealous of Amber’s female ex, Tasya van Ree, calling her “Van Pee”, he also “tried to set fire to another of Ms van Ree’s paintings”.

In fact, Depp’s homophobia and jealousy didn’t stop there, he then attacked Heard’s friend, iO Tillet Wright, by misgendering him and mocking his transition, calling him a “dike bitch” and “wanting to be a man now”.

Depp also makes unfavourable comments about Heard’s relationship with Elon Musk: “But she sucked Mollusk’s [I assume a reference to Elon Musk] crooked dick”. (page 126)

He also accused her of having an affair with Billy Bob Thornton, writing about it in graffiti. (page 76)

THE CURRENT TRIAL:

The trial is a not a criminal trial, but a defamation trial. Depp is suggesting Heard ruined his reputation in her article about domestic violence, despite not naming him in it. In fact, Depp was requested to leave the project after he lost his libel case.

Depp is suing Heard for $50 million, over 7x the amount they originally settled together. Heard originally attempted to get the suit moved to California and dismissed, and only filed a counterclaim when it was refused.

Virginia has less strict anti-SLAPP laws and as a result has drawn questionable legal cases in recent years. SLAPP lawsuits are also known as intimidation lawsuits and often used to censor, intimidate and silence critics by burdening victims with the cost of legal defence until they abandon their criticism.

Depp fans are heavily affecting the way social media is reacting to the trial, by indulging in edits on social media, fabrications of events, pseudoscience.

Heard has had to hire more security. Some Depp fans have attempted to chase vehicles with Heard and her team inside as they return home from the courthouse. 

One of Depp’s witnesses (Gina Deuters) was dismissed from the stand after admitting to watching the trial online.

Depp fans were barred from the court for violent threats against Heard. Most attendees are Depp-fans and have had to have been told, “Order in the court or I will have you removed”.

CONCLUSION:

The suit is not to determine whether Heard was violent, or whether their relationship was mutually toxic, but as to whether Heard lied in her op-ed, and there is plenty of evidence of Depp physically harming Heard multiple times; regardless of Heard’s retaliation, he has been proven to be a domestic abuser.

[DISCLAIMER: This post is purely in relevance to the Heard vs. Depp case, to fact-check claims made by Depp, his team, as well as opinions on social media. They are not meant to be a remission on Heard’s part of any potential wrongdoing.]

// TERFS DON’T INTERACT //

[smashingpunks]

God bless those people who are INCREDIBLE writers but decide to use those skills to write gay fanfiction

[jaymib]

[babyjordy-deactivated20220722]

May I have demon! readers seducing Father Todd headcanons, good miss

Baby Thots

♡Priest!Jason Todd/Demon!F!Reader♡

Warning(s):NSFW(18+ ONLY). AGLESS BLOGS AND MINORS DNI. Seduction, Demon/Priest, Religious Imagery, Groping, Nudity, and Unprotected Vaginal Sex. THIS IS BASICALLY NON-CON/DUB-CON.

Note: Priest kink goes burrrrr

Father Todd is a tough one to break, that is for sure. He is a godly man, no matter what temptations were thrown at him.

Yet he never expected a demon like you to show up. A pretty face, taunting eyes, a mouth that would make God himself sweat, and just this lustful pull you radiate.

It took you months to make him crack, to make him forget his holiness.

As he would be setting up the alter, your hands are wandering. Rubbing his shoulders, his arms, his sides, over his stomach, and even drifting over his cock in his alb.

Jason would move away from your quickly. clenching his cross tightly as he glares at you.

You would laugh while just walking towards him, your hands reaching to undo your own little gown. Letting it drop off of you in front of him, letting him take in your fully nude and sinful form.

He would be quick to turn away from you, closing his eyes and whispering a quick prayer, swallowing thickly as your delicate hands slide up his back.

"Give in, Father, I promise to make all your sins worth it."

Jason would simply stand there as you undress him, shaking as he feels your sharp tongue gently caress the deep gashes on his back.

"Aw, did my pretty Priest try to whip me out of his mind? Lash your desires away?"

Soon, you have him leaning back while seated on the steps to the alter. Your legs on either side of his body as your chests are pressed against one another, your lips and tongue touching every part of his face.

As you start to ride him, right in front of the beautiful painting of Jesus, his hands come to grip your hips. You smile down at him, your arms wrapping around him to draw in closer.

"There you go, Priest, let go."

Your moans are music to him, a sound much more holy and gorgeous than the church's choir. The music you are releasing makes his cock throb.

Your tongue laps at his ear as you purr to him, "fill me, Father Todd. Give me your seed."

Jason's moans are guttural and sound painful as he cums inside of you, the first release he has had since teen years. It makes his entire body hum and shake as you keep riding him, milking him for all he has.

"My pretty priest," you chuckle while giving him a kiss.

[lvdyazula]

jason todd being a canon leo is very jason todd

[flowerais-deactivated20211031]

soft reasons to feel okay

sleeping on warm sand

french pastries

smelling flowers

genuinely kind people

feeling at home 

loving others and being loved

late night drives

memorising lyrics

deep conversations

serendipitous friendships

dancing to songs

the feeling of a sunset

laughing together

walking along a beach

starting over again

[88888888-8]

What do your guys’ phone cases look like? Describe them and add your sign in the tags

[notmipha]

thoroughbreds tyzula au but lily is ty lee and amanda is azula