The minute anyone says that Jason had a part in his death because he went after the Joker, I have to automatically assume that you either haven't read A Death in the Family or have absorbed the information from a post.
Here are a couple of true statements that you would know if you read ADITF:
Jason didn't know the Joker was in the warehouse.
Jason didn't go into the warehouse to save his mother from the Joker, she told him to come with her so they can talk about what the Joker wants with her.
Jason was told that the Joker wasn't in the warehouse, that he had left a while ago.
Jason was given faulty information and his only sin was believing his mother.
And here are the panels:
Jason sees the Joker going into Sheila's tent and gets worried for her safety.
He says, "this is a job for BATMAN and Robin" not JUST Robin. He wanted Bruce's help.
Bruce tells Jason not to handle the Joker alone and to wait for him.
You could say that this is the page where he disobeyed Bruce, but all he does is want to talk to Sheila about the predicament she's in. Again, he doesn't look for or go after the Joker.
Sheila moves them into the warehouse so they can talk privately.
HE IS EXPLICITLY TOLD MY HIS MOTHER THAT THE JOKER HAD LEFT A LONG TIME AGO. And that turns out to be a lie.
So all of this happens without Bruce's knowledge and what does he think in minutes of coming back?
(Sorry for the blurry picture)
"I warned you not to take the Joker on by yourself." He didn't.
"I begged you to wait Jason, but of course you didn't."
"You never listen. Why. WHY?" He has multiple times.
Bruce has no idea what happened, but automatically assumes that it was Jason's fault. Even when Sheila tells him with her dying breath what happened, he still calls Jason reckless.
She tells him how much of a hero he was in his last moments, and instead of telling people that, Bruce basically tells anyone that he meets that Jason was disobedient. He has essentially erased what happened in the warehouse - the part that he knew - and replaced it with a completely different narrative that makes Jason his scapegoat.
you know those studies showing that cursing helps with pain tolerance or whatever. that’s how i feel about making my weird little noises to get through my basic daily activities. sometimes you just have to go hggblaaaah for a minute so you can find the strength within yourself to get up or wash the dishes or send an email. mmmnneh. urgh. the torments are unending but you can always make some little sounds about it.
You felt him before you heard him. The mattress dipped down low, hesitant.
Simon.
He had come home mere minutes ago from deployment, and still smelled like gun powder. Much to your chagrin, you couldn’t deny the fact that you very much loved your husband’s scent.
His gloved hand floats above your head for a moment before removing the gloves entirely. Only then did you feel his warm hand caress your cheek. “Such a pretty bird, hm?” He murmurs to himself, letting his finger brush away hair strands from your face.
He stays there for a minute, watching your closed eyes flutter every now and then, before changing clothes. Changing into something safe.
When your eyes opened, the sun was peaking through the blinds. All you could feel was warmth from the body next to you, warmth you haven’t felt in weeks. You roll over, as much as you could in his tight grasp, and met his eyes.
“You’re back,” You said groggily, burrowing your face against the crook of his neck. “I thought you were supposed to come home next week. When’d you get in?”
“Few hours ago, love,” He pressed a kiss against the side of your head. “Price let me off easy.” Another kiss. And another. God, you missed it when he was this clingy.
“Good. I would’ve had a word with him if he didn’t.” You mumbled threateningly. Of course, he knew you had meant it. You took his job very seriously.
He made a small acknowledging sound in return. “Sure you would’ve, lovie,” His hand trailed up and down your spine in useless patterns. “Would’ve expected nothing less from my Sleeping Beauty.”
—————————————————————————
Ermmmm 100 followers? Thank you guys?? Holy cow 🥺🫶
cw: dubiously consensual language / power imbalance, breeding kink / pregnancy kink, possessive + degrading language, obsession + ownership themes, implied somnophilia (waking you up with sex) marking, bruising, overstimulation, territorial behavior / isolation kink, objectification
a/n: divider by @bernardsbendystraws
he doesn’t take you to a beach. no cute sandals, no cocktails. he takes you to a cabin in the woods with no cell service and blackout curtains.
“honeymoon’s for makin’ sure it sticks.”
you don’t leave the bed for days.
you’re wearing nothing but his t-shirt and your wedding ring. your thighs are sore. your voice is gone. you’re leaking everywhere, and he won’t stop pressing his palm to your belly like he’s checking.
“doesn’t feel full enough. think i need to try again.”
he eats you out in the kitchen. fucks you over the balcony railing. carries you from room to room like a doll. he lets you nap only so he can wake you up by slipping in slow and whispering:
“’s your honeymoon, sweetheart. you want me to take care of you, yeah?”
you lose track of how many times he finishes inside you.
and he keeps whispering that same promise into your ear, every time your belly tenses up or your breath catches or your thighs shake:
“gonna give you a belly, yeah? a bump. little ring on your finger and a fuckin’ baby in you. real wife now.”
being apart for so long had already begun taking its toll— the seven hours time-difference, missed calls, and replies that only grew shorter & shorter whenever sae was buried deep in training. but it snowballed fast, and weeks of frustration finally spilled out all at once.
“… you didn’t even bother replying to any of my texts yesterday, sae!” you snapped, pacing back and forth across your bedroom with your phone pressed tightly to your ear.
“i told you. i was busy with training.” he replied flatly.
“you always use that as an excuse!”
“cause it’s the truth.”
“so you couldn’t spare thirty seconds to send me a text?” you shot back, frustration bleeding through every word.
a tired sigh came through the speaker. “… not everything revolves around texting you every hour.”
the words left his mouth harsher than he intended.
“… got it.”
“you know that’s not what i meant.” he sighed, exhaling sharply.
“then what exactly… did you mean, sae?” you demanded, your voice trembling despite how badly you wanted it to sound firm. “because lately it feels like i’m constantly trying to squeeze myself into whatever tiny space you have left for me.”
“don’t start, please.”
“don’t… start?” you scoffed, a humorless laugh slipping out. “i’m your girlfriend. i shouldn’t have to beg for your attention.”
“and i shouldn’t have to justify every second of my day to you.”
for a moment, all you could hear was the faint static of the call between you. it stretched on long enough for your anger to start turning into something heavier.
“maybe… it’s better if we stop pretending this is working,” you whispered, your throat tightening around every word.
sae’s sharp reply came instantly. “don’t say that.”
“… why not?” you snapped. “when was the last time we had a conversation that didn’t end like this?”
“that’s because you keep pushing.”
“no, it’s because you’re impossible to talk to!”
“maybe because nothing i say is ever enough for you.”
for a beat, neither of you said anything. then came the final straw. “fine,” you breathed, the word coming out shakier than you wanted. “… maybe soccer is the only thing you actually care about. you know what? i’m done.”
before he could respond, you ended the call.
the screen went dark instantly, your tear-streaked reflection staring back at you through the blackened glass.
for the first time since the argument started, your apartment fell completely silent. your chest felt tight. your eyes burned from crying because some part of you already missed him. and despite how angry you still were, guilt had already begun creeping in around the edges.
but right now, the resentment that had been building for weeks was still fresh, still sitting heavy in your chest. then in a fit of anger and exhaustion, you’d decided to block him everywhere— imessage, whatsapp, instagram, tiktok, even his email too. you didn’t want to hear his voice, see his name pop up on your screen, or read another dry reply that made you feel like an inconvenience.
you just needed silence and a moment of clarity for yourself.
—
on the other side of the world, sae stared at his phone screen in disbelief.
his messages weren’t delivering. his calls went straight to voicemail. when he opened instagram, your account no longer existed in his following or followers. the last message he sent you sat on ‘not delivered.’
he tried once more, then again, each attempt ending the same way. still nothing.
“… fuck,” he muttered, jaw clenched so tight it ached.
he was in his hotel room after his evening training, hair still damp from the shower, exhaustion from the day mixing with rising irritation from whatever that transpired between you two.
sae rarely lost his cool. but right now, sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone gripped tightly in his hand; he was definitely furious. sure, the two of you had argued before, but this time you had intentionally shut him out. he knew he’d said things he shouldn’t have. he knew the distance had been wearing thin on both of you. but the thought that you’d actually block him— or cut him off completely made him feel more helpless than ever.
after one last failed call, he threw his phone onto the mattress with a sharp exhale, dragging a hand down his face.
“stubborn woman…” he hissed under his breath, teal-eyes sharp with irritation. “you really think blocking me is going to fix anything?”
he leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the phone lying uselessly in front of him. a small part of him wanted to book the first flight back to japan without thinking twice, while the rational part of him knew you’d only resent him for ignoring the space you so clearly needed.
but the longer he sat there, unable to reach you; the heavier the unease settled in his chest. because for the first time in a long time… he couldn’t get through to you.
and he absolutely hated it.
⨳ 𝓷𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: errr ending it here because i might wanna do a pt 2
being apart for so long had already begun taking its toll— the seven hours time-difference, missed calls, and replies that only grew shorter & shorter whenever sae was buried deep in training. but it snowballed fast, and weeks of frustration finally spilled out all at once.
“… you didn’t even bother replying to any of my texts yesterday, sae!” you snapped, pacing back and forth across your bedroom with your phone pressed tightly to your ear.
“i told you. i was busy with training.” he replied flatly.
“you always use that as an excuse!”
“cause it’s the truth.”
“so you couldn’t spare thirty seconds to send me a text?” you shot back, frustration bleeding through every word.
a tired sigh came through the speaker. “… not everything revolves around texting you every hour.”
the words left his mouth harsher than he intended.
“… got it.”
“you know that’s not what i meant.” he sighed, exhaling sharply.
“then what exactly… did you mean, sae?” you demanded, your voice trembling despite how badly you wanted it to sound firm. “because lately it feels like i’m constantly trying to squeeze myself into whatever tiny space you have left for me.”
“don’t start, please.”
“don’t… start?” you scoffed, a humorless laugh slipping out. “i’m your girlfriend. i shouldn’t have to beg for your attention.”
“and i shouldn’t have to justify every second of my day to you.”
for a moment, all you could hear was the faint static of the call between you. it stretched on long enough for your anger to start turning into something heavier.
“maybe… it’s better if we stop pretending this is working,” you whispered, your throat tightening around every word.
sae’s sharp reply came instantly. “don’t say that.”
“… why not?” you snapped. “when was the last time we had a conversation that didn’t end like this?”
“that’s because you keep pushing.”
“no, it’s because you’re impossible to talk to!”
“maybe because nothing i say is ever enough for you.”
for a beat, neither of you said anything. then came the final straw. “fine,” you breathed, the word coming out shakier than you wanted. “… maybe soccer is the only thing you actually care about. you know what? i’m done.”
before he could respond, you ended the call.
the screen went dark instantly, your tear-streaked reflection staring back at you through the blackened glass.
for the first time since the argument started, your apartment fell completely silent. your chest felt tight. your eyes burned from crying because some part of you already missed him. and despite how angry you still were, guilt had already begun creeping in around the edges.
but right now, the resentment that had been building for weeks was still fresh, still sitting heavy in your chest. then in a fit of anger and exhaustion, you’d decided to block him everywhere— imessage, whatsapp, instagram, tiktok, even his email too. you didn’t want to hear his voice, see his name pop up on your screen, or read another dry reply that made you feel like an inconvenience.
you just needed silence and a moment of clarity for yourself.
—
on the other side of the world, sae stared at his phone screen in disbelief.
his messages weren’t delivering. his calls went straight to voicemail. when he opened instagram, your account no longer existed in his following or followers. the last message he sent you sat on ‘not delivered.’
he tried once more, then again, each attempt ending the same way. still nothing.
“… fuck,” he muttered, jaw clenched so tight it ached.
he was in his hotel room after his evening training, hair still damp from the shower, exhaustion from the day mixing with rising irritation from whatever that transpired between you two.
sae rarely lost his cool. but right now, sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone gripped tightly in his hand; he was definitely furious. sure, the two of you had argued before, but this time you had intentionally shut him out. he knew he’d said things he shouldn’t have. he knew the distance had been wearing thin on both of you. but the thought that you’d actually block him— or cut him off completely made him feel more helpless than ever.
after one last failed call, he threw his phone onto the mattress with a sharp exhale, dragging a hand down his face.
“stubborn woman…” he hissed under his breath, teal-eyes sharp with irritation. “you really think blocking me is going to fix anything?”
he leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the phone lying uselessly in front of him. a small part of him wanted to book the first flight back to japan without thinking twice, while the rational part of him knew you’d only resent him for ignoring the space you so clearly needed.
but the longer he sat there, unable to reach you; the heavier the unease settled in his chest. because for the first time in a long time… he couldn’t get through to you.
and he absolutely hated it.
⨳ 𝓷𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: errr ending it here because i might wanna do a pt 2
smut mdni!!! :x freaktoshi rin x femreader lol
cw: slight praise kink, spit kink, creampie (?)
At first glance, no one could've guessed what went on between you and your boyfriend in the bedroom.
Maybe it was Rin's closed demeanor. Or the way he regularly dismissed most others' ideas as "lukewarm" and "half-baked", turning his cheek and plugging his ears to anything that did not serve or please him. But to outsiders, (and even you, sometimes), Rin came off as an unimaginative and closed-minded person. So when the two of you finally became comfortable around each other, and sex became a regular occurrence, you were met with a pleasant surprise.
Who knew he would've been so kinky?
"Fuck... yes, right there... keep fucking milking me dry, pretty..." he grunted as he streeetched you into a full nelson, blunt fingernails digging into the backs of your knees as he practically folded you in half and .
"R-rin! Fuck, 's too much... Please..." You squirmed and whined as he forced your knees even further back, making the limits of what you originally thought you could handle seem like it was nothing. This was definitely a new position for you. You weren't complaining, though.
"You're so pretty. Do you like that, sweet girl?" he muttered softly against your lips only a half-hour later, cock slowly sliding in and out of you effortlessly. It was like he was a missing piece of you. So sweet and caring he was, you thought. He loved you so affectionately and tenderly and attentively, and yet-
A few minutes later, he had you in tears. Pounding into you from behind, Rin's shoved his fingers from one hand into your mouth, his other hand preoccupied in slapping your ass every time your mouth even dared to open. "S-slow down!" Slap. You whimpered.
"Fuckin' slut..." he muttered to himself, his pace growing impatient as he yanked your head up by the ponytail and spit into your mouth, fucking into you ruthlessly. Your pussy fluttered weakly around him as he squeezed your fifth or sixth orgasm out of you - you'd came too many times to count.
By the time Rin had filled you with his seed for the nth time, he'd tuckered out. Collapsing onto the bed, he ran his hands through sweat-damp hair as he tried to catch his breath.
"Bend over in front of me," he said casually. "I wanna see just how good I fucked you."
izzy806
discoholicmusic
prguitarman
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
germansingergirl
2087
