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#from one of the knight terrors issues

sisaloofafump · 3 months

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Normally redraws of Jason's death don't phase me - it's so common - but this one???? Sobbing

#it got me #from one of the knight terrors issues #his bloody tears :(#dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #Jason Todd #red hood

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thelionandtheeagle · 9 months

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Re: Knight Terrors - Robin #2

There is so much here I could talk about, it's hard to even pick/ decide where to start. I guess I'll just say this up front: I really didn't like the first issue, and while I still have some minor gripes with this second one, it was overarchingly damn good and I'm ridiculously excited that Tim and Jason were finally allowed again to have an interaction that makes sense for them, given their past history. It's been 84 years I swear.

Now without further ado:

The way they see themselves and each other.

This excerpt goes perfectly with a different post I was working on, talking about what happened at Titans Tower.

(Jason narrating, referring to Tim; Teen Titans 2003 #29)

Tim chronically suffers from imposter syndrome. He's constantly doubting himself. But Jason has always believed, known, that Tim is good at what he does. And over time his conviction in regards to it has only grown stronger. Jason's high opinion of Tim's capabilities is actually part of the reason he was so hurt about being "replaced" by Tim, specifically.

(Jason talking to Tim during Robin War; Red Hood/Arsenal 2015 #7)

Jason has always seen Tim as better than himself. All the while Tim has struggled to feel capable of living up to Jason's legacy. But Tim still took up the mantle because he cared and he had to try. And Jason recognizes that.

(Tim talking at a portrait of Jason, Secret Origins 2014 #3)

(Red Hood/Arsenal 2015 #37)

(Red Hood and the Outlaws 2011 #8)

In summary for this section: Tim and Jason tend to think lowly of themselves, but highly of each other. There's mutual respect and understanding. That's at the very core of their relationship and Knight Terrors showcases that beautifully.

Another great thing about their dynamic that gets shown off in this issue is that they make a damn good team and enjoy working together.

throughout the issue

(Tim narrating, Teen Titans 2011 #16)

(We are Robin 2015 #7)

Last but not least, we get some delightfully, painfully, tender moments.

Jason wishes for someone to count on. And Tim is right there for him. Which gets heavily doubled down on at the end of the issue:

Tim is always ready to work with Jason, to lend a hand, to be there for him-

- and Jason trusts Tim with his life.

Which, speaking of life...

After waking up, Jason tries to get in contact with Tim and when he can't, we see how devastate he is, thinking something went wrong. Ouch.

In conclusion: I was worried going in, with DC's track record lately, but I can happily say I was beyond pleasantly surprised. This feels like a return to form, and I pray we'll get more content featuring these two in the near future. If you haven't checked it out yourself yet, I highly recommend reading this issue.

Thanks for listening <3 I know this was a lot hah

#jaytim #Knight Terrors #spoilers #meta #my stuff #long post #Jason Todd #Tim Drake

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damianbugs · 8 months

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with all this gotham war stuff (most recently the comic sc you posted on your twt with jason and bruce), can u explain what is actually going on? like, i’m not that far so i haven’t read it, but… like is it actually bruce saying all that stuff about the kids? or is it this zur person people keep talking about?

oh my friend, it's crazy around here, but i will try my best to explain it!

A GUIDE TO UNDERSTANDING WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO BATMAN IN GOTHAM WAR:

firstly, the comic reading list to catch up with gotham war is: as of 01/10/23 (the ones in italics are core issues to the story)

for some background on what happens leading up to gotham war:

Batman (2016) #125-136

(Optional) Knight Terrors: Batman

(Optional) Knight Terrors: Catwoman

and then the actual gotham war story:

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Battle Lines

Batman (2016) #137

Catwoman (2018) #57

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Red Hood #1

this is everything that is out right now, but from the third of october to halloween we will also be getting: Batman #138, Catwoman #58, Gotham War: Red Hood #2, Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Scorched Earth.

secondly... who is Zur En Arrh.

Zur En Arrh taking over Bruce, Batman (2016) #126

zur en arrh, in the simplest way of explaining, is this alter ego/personality (it's unclear) bruce created for himself should batman (bruce wayne) ever be psychologically compromised or brainwashed. it's not him, but a more sadistic and crueler person that is the "ultimate batman" who doesn't care about anyone or anything but getting the mission done.

during Batman #125-130, zur takes over the role of batman because bruce was losing very badly to the robot Failsafe (which is zur's own creation, that bruce has no memory of making). after getting vaporised by failsafe and sent travelling through dozens of alternate universes, losing his hand and fighting a flying shark (Batman #131-135), bruce returns to gotham incredibly mentally unstable.

During a peaceful dinner with his family, Bruce suddenly imagines the entire world on fire, Batman (2016) #136.

during everything, bruce managed to mentally fight back and kind of... merge their ideals together in order to survive and win in the moment.

and then successfully trapping failsafe back into his mind where he can no longer take over!

Bruce uses some sort of mental technique to lock Zur away in his mind, Batman (2016) #136.

except he didn't succeed! at all!

you see, when travelling through all those universes, bruce somehow brought back every single version of zur en arrh with him. now all of then combined, plus his already deteriorating and weak mental health from the last few years, bruce is currently operating under the impression that he's locked zur away, when he actually hasn't.

zur is the one partly, or even entirely, in control. right now, he's just pretending to stay locked away so bruce continues to do what he thinks is 'right' despite them being incredibly out of character for the run.

During his eight week coma, Bruce sees Zur 'locked away' and he is, apparently, not alone, Gotham War: Battle Lines (2023)

an example is when zur referred to robin as batman's solider, bruce mentally fought back to make it clear that tim was his son. but then, a few issues later, bruce refers to his children as his soldiers and that they've all betrayed him, implying that zur has always had control and isn't locked away.

Bruce and Zur get into a fight inside his mind about Robin [Tim Drake], Batman (2016) #127

so yeah, zur is not bruce! they're both batman, but zur en arrh is like his somehow unimaginably even worse twin. if you're interested more in him, i would suggest giving his character history a read! be warned it gets changed A LOT and is definitely not everyone's cup of tea (personally i hate him and need him shelved for another forty years).

now that that's all done and explained, the current state of gotham war is Bruce (thinks he's okay) fighting everyone else (except Damian) because in his (Zur's) point of view, they're all against the mission and therefore are now his enemies (he's lost his mind). totally not convoluted.

to answer your original question, yes, this is all bruce saying and doing these things but he is being HEAVILY influenced by Zur. we can't tell for certain how much of this is bruce and how much is zur, but we can definitely prove zur is partially or completely controlling him again.

even jason points it out after bruce implants that fear toxin chip into him in Batman (2016) #138:

like we can see the intention is to keep jason out of this, because compared to everyone else, jason was the most directly opposed to bruce. but zur is twisting how this concern gets expressed, since forcing jason into feeling fear everytime he gets an adrenaline rush is hardly the reformation bruce is usually encouraging. the other batfam members also talk about how uncharacteristically violent bruce is being.

"He's out of control." / "He's gone [In more ways than one.]" Batman (2016) #137

as the story progresses we see more and more of zur replace bruce, but because he can't have bruce trying to stop him again, zur is playing along and convincing bruce he's locked away. so really, bruce is at war with not only his entire family, but also his own mind. just another average tuesday for batman. he's being tricked and is unknowingly doing exactly what he was trying to prevent.

to understand what the actual war in gotham war is, give the comics listed above a read! if you find the story boring/ridiculous/stupid, don't worry, it is! the social commentary leaves a lot to be desired, as does most of the characters writings (especially selina's).

bruce and his one sided battle with zur is sort of an overarching story happening alongside it (along with a bunch of other ongoings. i don't even understand how detective comics and batman and robin are going to tie into this once it starts up again).

sorry the answer isn't a simple one, but unfortunately nothing is ever simple with bruce. also apologies in advance if any of the future gotham war comics come out and completely debunk all of this! who knows what will happen in this dramatic family drama.

#bruce wayne #gotham war #dc meta #saki anons #saki comic talks #i have such a toxic relationship with this run #i have nothing but complaints and hate for it #but its so terrible i cant wait to see how it all crash and burns #the most “it gets worse before it gets better” storyline for batman i have EVER seen

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fanfictilltheend · 8 days

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❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 2: ♪Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

Hi I apologize that a lot of these reference pics are just of white girls. I tried to find "aesthetic" images that go with the story but so many of them are just of white people and I want to call myself out for this because in the fic's only descriptors are that she has hair and is AFAB -- nothing about race. I also realize that all of the girls in this are skinny too and Y/N's body type is never specified. Sorry fam!! These images are just to get the creative juices flowing and don't truly depict anything from the fic!!

A/n: It’s here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I’ve ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (smut this time tho!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier. SMUT and feelings <3 Also check out this playlist of music that’s in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, pov change, Infidelity, threats, age gap, dressing Joel up (swear I wrote this before he wore that outfit to the SAG awards — the mr.Darcy-core one), racist comment (from Y/N’s douchey boyfriend), douchey boyfriend, confidence issues, feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), kissing, penis in vagina sex — unprotected (wear a condom), lightest hint of ass play, scar worship?? kinda??, daddy issues, daddy kink, using music lyrics to move the plot, multiple orgasms (m and f), religion and god discussions, stepcest (kinda bc technically he is divorced from her mother), tagging psuedo-incest just to be safe!!, use of y/n

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a little crush on Joel Miller. How could you not have? The first day you’d met him had been like some kind of fucked up yet extremely satisfying whirlwind of a daydream. He’d come in, broad and tall and strong, and saved you from your evil (though you do love him somewhere deep, deep down) older brother’s onslaught. Protected you like a knight in shining armor from his punching, beating fists. Treated and touched you so tenderly, so many miles different from how your own father did that you’d been hit with whatever the pleasant opposite of whiplash is. And the way he finally punished Aiden after years of his reign of terror, the violence of it, the justice of it. You didn’t have words for it then, but the way you looked into Joel’s eyes when he was doling out that righteous punishment became some kind of strange secret understanding between the two of you. Maybe it was the first sign of love? You aren’t sure.

As a kid, he’d given you what you like to think of as quiet butterflies. They were always there when he spoke to you, looked at you, touched you, beat the shit out of your father and brother for you, but they were faint enough that you could ignore them. It was a comforting, fluttering kind of love, a gradual understanding of your loyalty to one another. But then puberty hit and the insects became incessantly loud when you thought of, wrote to, or talked to him. They ate at your heart day after day while Joel was in prison – the longing, the missing. Aiden told you that you were obsessed with him. Your mother told you to forget him, that he would forget you. But somehow, he didn’t. You wonder if those bugs live in him too. You wonder if they are quiet or loud and if they gnaw .

You think that they are probably loud. You think this for a few reasons. The first is that you know for a fact, you can feel it in the lining of your soul, and from the evidence of his constant correspondence and care for you, that he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. The second reason is the fact that you think but aren’t one hundred percent sure is that the last time you’d hugged him he’d gotten a little hard (you don’t want to think too much into that because he is only a man who had been deprived of touch for a long time – but still you wonder…). And the third is the way he looks at you like you are the universe like you are the last drop of nectar and he is the last butterfly left on Earth in a famine.

That’s how he’s looking at you now in the passenger seat of his old, clunky pickup. You know that he wanted to drive, but you wanted to show him how well you could because he had never seen. Never had the chance to see how well you had fixed, maintained, and took care of his baby and of course he gave into you like he always does. He's smiling at you quietly, but his eyes contain multitudes. Right now mostly pride at your driving.

Joel is a bit different than how you remember sitting near him in the truck the last time you were together, him as a free man, you as a little girl. Somehow, even though you are obviously bigger now, he still seems massive and broad and stronger than ever. His biceps are huge – probably from all the time he had to work out in prison – and peeking out under his blue t-shirt that you brought for him, you think you see the outlines of some tattoos. You look a little closer. On his right arm is text in curvy black ink. You think it reads, “Sarah.” You smile softly at that. On his other arm is a strange orange shape that you have to squint at to understand. The edges of the object are jagged but they form a shape like a badge – and then you know what it is! It is the guitar pick you made for Joel as a child. The one that had pricked his finger and drawn blood and he stuck it in his wallet. You can’t articulate how honored you feel that Joel loved you enough to tattoo something you made for him on his body, permanently, forever.

“ Well , the light only turned green damn near eons ago,” he complains about your driving, but you know he is just teasing.

There is hardly anything wrong you can ever do in Joel’s eyes. He grins at you a bit lopsidedly and you smile back. You also can’t help but notice the greying of his brown hair. It’s a bit longer than it used to be too and the length gives it a little bit less of a shaggy look. You think it suits him, makes him look a bit older and more distinguished than when he first came into your life twelve years ago.

Objectively, you know it’s weird to think that your ex-stepdad who is a convicted felon is hot, but it’s just something you’ve always known and thought like that the sky is blue or that orange is your favorite color. You know it’s weird to think of someone who was? – is? – supposed to be a father figure to you that way, but it’s already second nature at this point. You’ve had a few boyfriends (luckily all of them had treated you right), but none of the feelings you’ve ever had for them have compared to the cosmic-sized love and affection you have for Joel and you’ve never known anything different. The years you spent longing, missing, loving, obsessing over, and aching for him in every way under the sun, can’t be healthy, you know this, but they have eclipsed practically every other relationship in your life. No one has ever made you feel as safe and protected and loved as Joel has. No one else has ever looked at you the way he does. No one else’s entire existence has revolved around you the way his has. The sheer devotion in his gaze is enough to make the butterflies inside you scream and beat their wings against your insides like hungry bats.

And you especially know you shouldn’t have these feelings about another human being violent enough to be capable of taking a life – inebriated or not. You’re grown now and know the man he killed was a scum-of-the-Earth child predator, and secretly you’ve always wondered if there was more to the story than Joel told the police in the official court transcripts you’d read as an adult, maybe even something to do with you since you had been there that day in the repair shop when they met , but you haven’t pressed because you’re sure the whole thing is quite traumatic for Joel and if he ever wants to tell you, you know he will. And more importantly, you don’t really care. Drunken, violent idiot or not, you were already deeply invested and never intended on wavering in that. You’re not sure there’s anything Joel could do to get you to stop loving him and that both terrifies and excites you.

“Okay, whatcha wanna eat?” you ask, reaching out to rub Joel��s shoulder gently. “Now that you’re free you can have whatever you want! On my mom’s credit card of course. Swear I won’t tell her.”

Joel grins.

“Deal,” he tells you. “I was thinking of a nice steak dinner.”

***

You pull into the fanciest restaurant you can find in the tri-state area and sit down to order a regal, all-American, full three-course steak dinner (though you’re both woefully underdressed – not that you care – though the host gives you a dirty look). All the while, you tell Joel about your major (psychology) and how you want to become a counselor for abused children.

“That’s sort of beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you with a genuine smile that used to be so hard to coax from him, but now seems to float over to you so easily and gently like a kiss from something as soft as the wings of a butterfly. “Wanting to help defenseless children. You’re kinda like a guardian angel for them, ya know? Damn proud of ya! Also, these mashed potatoes are goddamn delectable!” he exclaims after taking an experimental bite. “Have I mentioned that prison food is shit?”

You smile bashfully and want to tell him that he is your guardian angel (you wonder if he thinks the same of you) and inspiration in a backward sort of way for wanting to help kids in the first place since he was so good at protecting you for the most part (though you obviously don’t believe violence is the correct answer in your line of future work). But kids need protectors. Somehow you know that deep down you forgive him for all of the violence he caused because you would forgive him for anything. And him being proud of you? You don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world than that! You burst with pride. Your real father never said that to you, but Joel doesn’t feel like your father now. He is something different entirely. Something that entirely belongs to you.

“And you’ll meet my boyfriend, Max, tomorrow,” you nod as Joel moves onto the steak and lets out a soft moan at how good it tastes. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

Joel’s face flattens.

“And who is this kid exactly?” he sneers a little, attacking the steak with his knife.

You smile internally at the obvious jealousy he’s trying to hide from his voice.

“Hey, Max is a decent guy!” you insist in his defense. “He’s pre-law. Real smart. He’s gonna be an important person someday, I know it. You’ll get on.”

That last part is a bit of a lie since you’re not sure the two will actually like each other.

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

“All I know is, just because someone is important, don’t mean they’re good to you or for you for that matter.”

You can’t help but think of your father, the most “important” man you know and how much of a degenerate he is compared to someone ostensibly average like Joel who didn’t even have a status symbol like a college degree and how perfect of a man you think he is, despite his obvious flaws. You blush a little, scrunching up your nose.

“Just lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,” he continues, smiling at the way you do. “He ever fuck with you – he ever break your heart, you know just where to send him, alright?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you grin. “Don’t need you getting any more jail time though, alright?” “You may have made a valid point,” he concedes with a smirk.

***

When you two enter your shitty, one-bedroom apartment it’s already dark outside. Joel actually grins when he notices his and your guitars have both been mounted on the wall.

“We can play ‘em tomorrow,” you tell him excitedly. “If you want to, I mean…”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Joel smiles. “Wanna hear ya singing for me, honey. I missed that.”

You smile to yourself.

“You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch,” you decide, getting back to business.

“No way, babygirl. I ain’t taking your bed.”

“Joel, you’ve literally been on a prison mattress for eight fucking years! Can’t imagine that’s been very comfortable.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t mind the couch. That’ll feel like heaven to me. Don’t want you messin’ up your back, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, knowing by the look on his face he’s not budging. If one thing, Joel has always been stubborn, but you like that about him. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, baby, if ya don’t mind, I’d like a quick shower. Been dreaming about taking a real, private one for ages.”

“Yeah, of course!” you nod, motioning toward your bathroom door. “Towels are under the sink.”

Joel makes his way inside and soon steam is billowing out the bottom of the door.

You busy yourself with some homework, but just as you walk past the door to grab a glass of water, you think you hear Joel singing.

You listen more closely over the fall of the running water and make out him singing the chorus of an old ABBA song with a deeper, sadder tone to it,

♪ “ Slipping through my fingers all the time / I try to capture every minute / The feeling in it / Slipping through my fingers all the time / Do I really see what's in her mind? / Each time I think I'm close to knowing / She keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ♫

You feel like such a sap, but you feel a tear forming in your eye at the way Joel must be thinking about his and your relationship and everything he missed in your life. You aren’t mad at him, but his absence hurt in a way you didn’t know you could feel. And you’ve never blamed him, really, but the lack of him for eight years of milestones really did kill a piece of you. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly at the bottom of your stomach with its wings pulled off. That’s how you felt all that time without Joel – like a butterfly without wings. A writhing worm of a human being, senseless and lost in a giant world full of forces you couldn’t control.

You listen to Joel’s beautiful, deep voice until you hear him turn off the tap and you scurry away and act innocent.

Joel emerges from the bathroom then with nothing but a white towel around his waist, steam from the shower floating lazily into the room behind him like precession. And oh, wow, is he ever a sight to behold. His hair is wet, dark brown flecked with grey, and starting to get curly from the moisture. You also can’t help but notice his broad chest, the expanse of it, the dark curls of hair, his bulking, muscular tattooed arms, his soft, hairy tummy, the V-shape of muscle that descends beneath the towel, his happy trail. You are overwhelmed by the soaking beauty of him. You’d seen Joel shirtless before, sure, but it had never felt like this .

“Gon’ grab some of those clothes you bought for me and then maybe we could watch something?” Joel asks as you try so fucking hard not to stare at him.

“Sure!” you squeak, staring down at your notebook at the kitchen counter.

You think you see a smirk from Joel, but you're not sure because your gaze is averted as he grabs some clothes to change into and disappears back into the bathroom.

When he reemerges, dressed in a wifebeater and shorts that accentuate his form, you two sit next to each other on your cushy sofa and surf the TV for something to watch. You feel Joel’s hairy knees against your jean-clad one and your heart flutters.

“Can’t believe I’m really here,” Joel says softly as you pass re-runs of Full House, a dog show. “Like I gotta fuckin’ pinch myself to know it’s not a dream.”

Suddenly you feel a large, weathered hand on your cheek.

“Missed you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, looking into your eyes, massaging the line of your jaw ever so lightly, trying to hold your skittish gaze. “More than I even have words for.”

First, you avoid looking at him a bit bashfully, but then you stare up cautiously into those big brown eyes that feel like a familiar kind of home and you’re such a goner. You lean into his warmth, the warmth of his hand.

“Missed you too, Joel. So much,” you admit, never wanting this moment to end or him to let go of you. “More than anything.”

He leans forward a little and for a second you think…but then he’s leaning in and planting a heavy kiss on your forehead. A kiss that has weight to it – not those soft, weak ones that Max gives you haphazardly when he’s drunk or high – the only time he’s brave enough to be vulnerable with you. This kiss says something, means it so sincerely too.

“Love you, honey,” he tells you. Then his face falls. “Sorry I…wasn’t quite there to say that to you enough in person.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I forgive you,” you insist. “I love you so much, dummy. More than you even know!”

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment.

***

You settle on an old, black and white classic, Paper Moon, that’s playing on the TV Land channel.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and you snuggle close. You’re pretty sure there isn’t a better feeling in the world than being this close to him. Even after all these years he still smells like Joel; like home (and, if you’re being honest, a bit like your vanilla shampoo) .

You lean against him, your cheek pressing into one of his firm pecs. You begin to feel sleepy, drunk on the steady sound of his heartbeat, alive and beating against you and really here .

You nod off.

***

At first, you don’t believe it, but you feel someone with strong, firm arms lifting you into the air, cradling your back and the insides of your knees in a bridal-style carry. The movement wakes you, but you don’t open your eyes because the safety and security you feel is too good to give up. Joel carries you to your bedroom and lays you down gently in your bed. You’re still in day clothes and shoes so Joel takes off your worn sneakers with a feather-light touch and places them at the foot of the bed – you can tell from the soft thumps it makes. He maneuvers you so tenderly under the covers and tucks you in with love and care. You wonder the last time someone did that for you and pull up a blank. If anyone ever did that for you it was probably Joel. Maybe your mom did when you were really young. Certainly your father nor Aiden ever did – your father hadn’t liked to touch you except out of anger – kind of like you had some kind of weird, contagious disease. Aiden’s hands had almost always hurt too, but not Joel’s – never his.

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are still closed so you aren’t sure, but you think he watches you for a second and lets out a long sigh.

Then you hear your bedroom door close softly so as not to disturb you. You smile, you can’t help it, and drift back off into a peaceful sleep.

***

You wake up to a mumbling, grunting sort of sound. You look over at your clock and read 3:42 a.m. You sit up. You can kind of hear some muffled noises coming from outside your room. At first, you feel a little concerned – like maybe Joel is in pain or something as he is the only one who could be making the noises. The walls in your apartment are paper-thin. Like you could hear him sneeze clear as day if he were to because sound travels through the shitty walls so easily. You should have told him that. But what the fuck is he doing up at 3 a.m.?

You creep (and you mean creep) silently to the door of your bedroom and open it the tiniest crack. The way your apartment is laid out, the back of the sofa is the first thing you see and the back of Joel’s head about six feet away. He doesn’t sound in pain the way he’s groaning and then you understand exactly what he’s doing. Of course the man is jerking off! After being in prison, stuck around people for so long of course he wanted a good, private wank. He isn’t looking at anything from what you can tell, no magazines or anything. Must be using his imagination. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s gotten good at that over the years.

You should turn around, slink back into bed, and cover your ears with a pillow so the man can have some privacy. But, fuck, the way he’s grunting. His voice is so fucking deep and sexy and then he lets out a soft, vulnerable moan and you feel heat envelope your whole body. You think you hear a soft fuck roll off his tongue and your heart almost beats right out of your chest. You can hear the lewd slapping of his fist on skin getting louder and more intense. Then you hear a soft take it, fuck. And Jesus, you are so fucking wet between your thighs. You ought to be ashamed. Instead, you reach down your hand feverishly beneath the band of your jeans and soaking underwear instinctively to stroke yourself ever so slightly. You sigh in relief, but you are fucking gushing, your fingers covered in your slick. You can’t see anything besides the back of Joel’s head, technically, so this couldn’t be that wrong, could it? He lets out a soft groan, you can tell he’s holding back so as not to be heard, but the desperation in the pathetic little noises this hulking man is making is turning on every switch inside you. Oh how you want to go over there and take him in your mouth, to taste him. God you are so fucked up! You’re still touching yourself gently, not really fully going at it yet, considering the possibilities that could follow if you went over there. But before you can decide to do anything, Joel positively whines, moans, and grunts fuck, unh, and you think but aren’t sure, babygirl, and finishes.

You stop dead still in what you’re doing. Did he really say “babygirl” or was that just your horny-ass imagination playing tricks on you? You’ve never heard Joel call anyone babygirl except you. Was he really thinking of you? On the one hand, if true, mega fucked up. On the other, wow, incredibly hot. You think about going over there and asking him to finish you off or something as crazy as in all those dumb romance novels you used to read in middle school, but just as quickly as the idea comes to you, you hear another noise: loud snoring. Joel is asleep.

Typical.

You snort to yourself. That was so quintessentially Joel. You don’t want to disturb him now. The moment has passed. And only then is when you remember you have a fucking boyfriend.

That doesn’t stop you from closing your door softly, crawling back into bed, and reaching your hand down beneath your panties to touch yourself. You stroke your clit, imagining it is Joel’s rough hand rubbing against you. Holy fuck. You haven’t been this wet since you used to touch yourself thinking about him in the past. It’s like he can reach every part of you, every layer in a way that no one else can. You know the whole thing is so fundamentally fucked up, but you can resist sinking into your favorite fantasy. The smell, the touch, the feel of him. You imagine the noises he was making so beautifully on the couch, feel heat coil through your entire body, and immediately cum hard without even sticking a finger inside yourself.

The pleasure you feel is so unparalleled and real you have to cover your hand with your mouth not to scream out your powerful orgasm.

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down.

God, you are so fucked.

***

The next morning you wake up to the wafting smell of someone cooking eggs. You emerge from your room a little sheepishly from last night’s events to find Joel behind the kitchen counter making eggs and toast.

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he grins, his eyes shining like he’s excited about something.

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

“Good morning, Joel,” you beam at him.

You were so afraid things would feel awkward after what you heard last night, but nothing ever feels awkward with Joel. In some ways, he’s still just your average dorky, friendly old ex-stepdad, convicted felon. In other ways, everything about him sets your heart on fire, but it would be stupid to ruin what you have with him because you think it’s remotely possible he might be interested back. You know this is dramatic, but if he flat-out rejected you, you think you might die. Truly. Like those butterflies inside you would beat their wings so hard they’d burst your heart.

“‘Membered you liked ‘em poached,” he nods, breaking you from your thoughts.

He scoops two poached eggs onto one of your plates and grabs a piece of toast from the toaster which he smears with butter like how you used to eat toast as a kid. You can’t believe he remembered.

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

He grabs a few eggs and toast for himself and sits beside you at the counter.

“Nice to be able to cook me ‘n you some real food,” he remarks. “If I eat one more cup o’ noodles in my lifetime I swear to God Almighty…” he trais off.

He’s looking at you like you put the goddamned sun in the sky. Your heart melts as you stare at his features, the faint curls in his hair. Oh, how you want to reach out and touch him. But that just isn’t how you operate. You won’t ruin what you already have.

The butterflies in your chest howl.

***

` You lay out the day’s schedule to Joel. You have plenty of time to hang about (you see him eyeing the guitars), and then you need to go shopping for some actual clothes for Joel since the things you brought for him don’t constitute a proper wardrobe. Then you will go out to dinner and meet Max.

Joel grunts a nod at that last part. He doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“Wanna show me what you’ve been playing?” he asks hopefully as he gets up to put both of your plates in the sink,

“‘Course!” you nod enthusiastically. “Max says I need to work on my fingerpicking so I can’t promise it’ll be all that good.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

You sit down on the couch right next to Joel, each of you holding your respective guitars in hand, across your laps.

Joel looks ecstatic to have his guitar back in his hands. He fiddles with the tuning and finger-picks a faint melody.

“Haven’t played one since the prison band. But then some dumb motherfucker clobbered another sorry son of a bitch to death with a saxophone so that ended our music privileges,” Joel explains.

“Jeez,” you reply.

Joel is sitting so close you can feel his body heat. You just want to hear him sing, but he insists on hearing you.

“Joel,” you try as innocently as possible. “D’you remember how to do an A-flat? I forget and I need it for my song.”

“Sure, baby. Lemme help ya. Now put one finger on this bit of the 4th fret here,” he begins, snaking a big arm around your shoulders so he can maneuver your fingers to the correct position.

His touch is electric. He feels so good and warm. You feel the intense urge to climb into his lap and embrace and stay there forever. His big caloused hand full of scars places your fingers correctly for the chord. The same hand that must have jerked himself to completion last night…You can’t help but wonder how much cum there was…The truth is, you know how to make an A-flat. You just wanted to feel him.

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

“There we go,” he says soothingly, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “That one can be tricky. Now where is my performance?”

Your nerves are squirming around inside you but you begin to play and sing to the best of your ability.

You look into Joel’s eyes.

♪“ You've got a heart on fire / It's bursting with desire / You've got a heart filled with passion / Will you let it burn for hate or compassion?” ♫ you sing.

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter.

♪ “What's the point with a love / That makes you hate and kill for? ♪

You sing as best and as seriously as you can. You look up and think you maybe see a tear in Joel’s eye.

When you finish, it’s clear Joel is finding it hard to select the right words to convey what he’s feeling.

“I–” he tries. “That was…well, let me just show you how I can answer that if anyone ever could to a performance as beautiful as that.”

You blush.

He begins to finger-pick a familiar tune, Instantly, you are transported back to eight years old in the back of Joel’s old pickup truck, listening to one of his many cassette tapes. It’s “I’ll Never Find Another You” by The Seekers. The original version of the song is pretty happy and upbeat, but the way Joel sings it slowly in his deep and weathered voice makes you feel sad and achy inside. The emotion behind his voice is palpable.

♪ “But if I should lose your love, dear / I don't know what I'd do / For I know I'll never find another you / Another you / Another you…” ♫ he trails off.

It’s your turn to tear up a little. It’s crazy to know he means every word he’s singing too. He sings like every word is his last breath. When he finishes you are crying a little.

“You oughta record an album,” you sniffle, leaning into his shoulder, throwing him a side hug.

“Wanted to be a singer,” he replies with a small grin, leaning his head against yours. “Back when I was young.”

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Don’t tell nobody really,” Joel replies, looking a bit sad you left his immediate proximity. “Just a stupid dream ‘n all that crap.”

“‘S not stupid,” you tell him. “You really have a beautiful voice, Joel. It’s like if I could take it, hold on to it, and keep it forever in my chest pocket next to my heart, I would.”

“That’s where I keep you, baby,” he tells you honestly.

He reaches up a big hand to yours and guides your own to place it right on his heart over his plaid shirt. You can feel it beating steadily below your palm to the rhythm of something as delicate and ferocious as the beating of butterfly wings.

“Right here.”

***

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a Hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end, you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively.

Finally, you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed-up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the men’s version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

When you finally ditch all the fun clothes and grab the essentials, Joel offers to go pick up the car while you pay. He tries to give you his eight-year-old credit card, but you insist on treating him on the condition he buys the “monkey suit.” After a bit of prodding, he gives in and you go to the sales attendant to pay at the counter.

“Your dad is really cute,” the sales attendant giggles to you as she rings up the pile of clothes.

Your cheeks go a bit red. You don’t really care enough to correct her.

“He’s my guy,” is all you say absentmindedly as you fish out your wallet from your purse.

The sales attendant hands you the receipt and on it, you see a scrawled phone number.

“For If he’s single,” she explains. “I’m Barb from sales.”

You look her over. She’s close to Joel’s age and conventionally pretty with long brown hair. The exact kind of woman Joel should be dating should he choose to get back in the game. Your stomach twists and the butterflies howl inside you.

You take the receipt, thank her, and join Joel back in the car (who is more than happy to be driving this time).

“What took so long?” he asks casually. “You two writing a novel in there?”

You think seriously about what you should do. You consider letting the bugs have their way and tearing the receipt with Barb’s number on it to shreds. But you want good things for Joel. The chance of you two ever being together the way you wish is so far-fetched that you know you shouldn’t even be thinking it. A literal pipe dream. He was your stepdad for christsakes. He literally fucked your mother! (Gross!). Barb is exactly the kind of woman Joel should be going after if he’s up to dating right now. You hand him the receipt begrudgingly.

“Sales Lady likes you,” you sat flatly. “Name is Barb.”

“Oh,” he says softly like he’s a bit flattered.

He looks back at her through the glass door of the store and she waves at him. He waves back politely. You feel your stomach twisting into knots.

“You think…you think you’re gonna call her?” you finally ask as casually as humanly possible, dreading the answer.

Joel looks over at you, his gaze sweeping over you. Then looks back at Barb through the window. He looks her up and down.

“Nah,” he says with a smirk, looking back at you. “She ain’t my type. Only need one girl in my life right now anyways,” he winks.

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

Regardless, you smile back and then sigh in relief and grin to yourself as you two drive away.

Much to your satisfaction, Joel crumples up the receipt and throws it out the window for good measure.

***

You get ready for dinner, to go to a nice Mexican-Japanese fusion restaurant that Max picked out. You wear a red dress that accentuates your figure and matching heels and to your shock, Joel reemerges from the bathroom in the white button-down shirt and black dress pants you picked out for him (you had been sure flannel would be part of his ensemble). God, he looks good. A part of you wants to ditch Max and just stay here with Joel forever. He looks you over, his dark eyes sweeping over your frame. You think there is a tinge of possessiveness in his voice when he says,

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

You arrive before Max and sit down at the fancy white table-cloth-covered table next to Joel, a booth facing you. Max finally makes an appearance a half hour late and sits down across from you, sweeping his hair out of his face, sliding into the booth. Joel is frowning and the butterflies beat their wings inside you nervously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max announces, puffing out his chest a little and smoothing out his collared shirt as he looks down at his watch and then over at Joel. “Hey, baby,” he says to you. Then, “And, uh, nice to meet you. Joe, was it? Heard a lot about you.”

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

Max is a good-looking guy, everyone says so, but he looks more like a little boy than you’ve ever thought as he squirms uneasily in his seat under Joel’s unrelenting gaze and launches into a tirade about his frat’s inter-mural lacrosse team practice and how his team should have totally won the scrimmage and that’s why he’s late. And of course, he was the one to score the most goals.

“And the taxi cab driver was a nightmare. Only spoke Spanish. It’s like, if you come to this country speak fucking English, am I right?”

You notice Joel’s jaw tighten and his fingers clench.

“Max, that’s so rude!” you tell him, frowning. “We’re at a fucking Mexican restaurant!”

“Anyway,” Max continues, rolling his eyes at the interruption like he barely even heard you, smirking. “Where’d you go to school? What do you do for work, Joel? Besides making license plates, I mean. Kidding!” he insists as you stare daggers at him.

Joel leans forward ever so slightly but you slip your leg over his to hold him back and he calms down a fraction. It’s like when you touch him, everything tense in him melts away.

Joel sits up straighter in his chair and looks at you, stretching his arm across the back of your seat protectively like it’s a casual thing and not an unconscious sign of possessiveness.

“I’m a mechanic,” he grunts unceremoniously to Max. “I mean, I was anyways…Didn’t go to school.”

Max frowns ever so slightly.

“You didn’t go to college? You must’ve gone to trade school at least?”

“Nope. Picked up what I know over the years. Not everyone gets a free ride from their parents,” Joel smirks.

“Free ride?” Max snaps. “I’ll have you know I spend every summer interning at a law firm!”

“Yeah, your dad’s,” you can’t help but snicker.

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“At least I’m not a psych major,” he shoots back. “I mean, no offense, babe!”

“What’s wrong with psychology?” Joel snarls, his eyes darkening. “You ought to be proud to have such a thoughtful and intelligent girl like Y/N studying such a topic.”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to go pink.

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers.

That makes you feel a bit better.

“I’m just saying, she could have inherited the second-best law firm in the tri-state area from her pops if she was pre-law like me,” he smirks.

Your smile fades, used to hearing this kind of shit from him. He knows you and your father don’t get along at all, but not the full extent of it. He also knows you don’t have an interest in pre-law. But you swallow down how you really feel.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you tell him, placing a hand down on his thigh.

It’s not that you enjoy the way Max has been talking to you, but you are so used to it from the men in your life that it feels like the common denominator must be you. And sometimes it feels like maybe they have some kind of point. And fighting back only makes things worse. You’ve learned that over the years the hard way.

“It’s not fine!” he snaps like he’s trying to get you to see sense, looking deeply insulted on your behalf. Your heart thunders in your chest. “This boy has never worked an honest day in his life and he’s telling you what you ought to be doing? Bet his hands are soft as a baby’s ass. He doesn’t know shit about you, babygirl.”

You may not know the hardship of labor that Joel has taken on in his life, but your hands are not smooth. They are full of scars. And Joel is right. Max’s are soft like silk. You look down at the most prominent, ugly scar on your middle finger. You don’t even know which man in your life gave it to you. But you do know it means something. Shows you survived something. Survived your stupid father too, not that Max seems to care.

But Max never loses.

“Whatever,” he smirks dismissively. “Sorry I’m not some, like, common blue-collar worker. But I guess I should be taking advice from someone who became a fucking convicted felon ‘cause they drank too much one night,” he shrugs with a terrible sneer.

You know it’s over then.

But Joel surprises you. Doesn’t immediately strangle Max like you thought he might. Simply stands up tall and silent over Max’s frame which has suddenly begun to shake ever so slightly in obvious fear, his blue eyes widening. Joel’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides.

“Wouldn’t mind them sendin’ me right back in, ” Joel growls low. “Drunk or not.”

You shiver and Max positively cowers.

“Got something to say? Don’t wanna take it outside?” Joel leers, smirking ever so slightly at the trembling boy before him. “I’d even let a little boy like you take the first swing.”

“Your stepdad’s a freak, Y/N,” Max stammers, not taking his eyes off of Joel.

“Joel, it’s fine, okay?” you growl, not wanting him to actually hurt your boyfriend. Let alone in public! “Shouldn’t talk about Joel like that though, Max! Jesus!”

“Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” Max tries, eyeing back and forth between you and Joel. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t get what you see in him with a real Dad like yours! Your dad has so much to give you!”

Look out for you? So much to give you? What could he possibly give besides a stupid law firm and two black eyes?

Max looks a bit desperate. Him apologizing for anything is actually a new concept for you. Your heart twitches ever so slightly. He must actually like you a lot. But Joel would never do anything to hurt you if it was in his power. At least not intentionally, unlike your real father.

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Joel snarls moodily, turning around. “Don’t want to do things I might regret to Mr.Future-Corporate-Lawyer over here. Have fun with him .”

Joel looks deeply hurt. Like you are choosing Max over him or something. That’s never what this has been about, has it? Doesn’t Joel know you’d do anything for him? That the hurt on his face hurts you more than anything you’ve ever felt. Ever.

“Joel, wait!” you decide and disappear after him, leaving Max behind at the table.

“Babe, what the fuck!?” Max yells, but you don’t care. “Come back here!”

***

You ride back in silence, Joel’s hands turning white against his grip on the steering wheel.

When you break through to the front door of your apartment, Joel finally snaps, the anger on his face directed at something that feels like you for the first time in your life.

“You really love that little son of a bitch, don’t you?” he sneers, uncharacteristically harshly towards you.

“So what if I did?” you shoot back, a little shocked. “It’s none of your business, Joel. What the fuck?”

“It is so my business,” he snaps back. “That kid is no good for you, Y/N. He doesn’t understand you. You deserve someone much better than that who will actually go to the ends of the earth for you. He wouldn’t do anything for you.”

There is a desperation and vulnerability in Joel’s words and tone that you’re not sure you’ve heard before. He sounds like he had been waiting the whole car ride to say this, maybe even his whole life. You aren’t sure.

“Max does give a shit about me,” you try to convince yourself, getting angrier. “I mean at least he was there for me while you were gone.”

Joel flinches.

“How do you know what’s so good for me and what’s not when you dipped out of my life for eight years?” you continue harshly. “Because why? It wasn’t because you were drunk, was it? It was because you couldn’t control your anger. You never could.”

He stares at you.

“I controlled it for you,” Joel says so quietly you almost miss it. “ You are the only reason I did any of it.”

“What?” you stammer, not sure you want to hear more. “W-what do you mean, Joel? Any of what?”

A million thoughts begin to run through your mind, but you push them aside. Theories about the case and your ideas of Joel’s true nature all threaten to drown you but you push them away.

“Do you want to know why I really killed that sick son of a bitch?” Joel asks dangerously after a long moment of silence. You stare at him, your body frozen. He looks down at his hands, flexing them like he can still feel them punching or around that disgusting man’s throat. “Why I killed him all those years ago? It was no accident, I’ll give you that. Manslaughter, my ass. I killed that scum of the Earth because he threatened you . To do terrible things to you with those disgusting hands of his. So I broke each one, but it wasn’t enough. I killed him because I didn’t want you to get hurt and because I didn’t want you to live in fear of him. I was tired, Y/N. Tired of being afraid for you in a world that doesn’t let you do shit except fight back. I loved you so much, Y/N, it hurt me. It scared me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again, not him, not your father, not Max, not anyone. You have to understand. I love –”

And then it’s all over. You’re not sure who moves first, but you think it might be you. The butterflies are rustling and thundering and screeching inside you and you kiss him. And Joel kisses back, devouring your mouth in his. You grab the back of his graying brown hair and pull him as close to you as you think is humanly possible. He cradles the back of your head so gently you almost lose your breath. And you are kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. There is nothing else in the universe except this kiss. You have never felt anything like this in your life. It is like every butterfly inside you has gone silent. It is like the world has stopped just for you and something new is forming inside you.

Joel killed that vile man for you. To keep you safe. Like he always said or showed that he would. He gave his life away for you. He did the unspeakable for you.

He bites down on your bottom lip and all your brain can manage to coherently think is: more, harder .

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

NO! your heart cries out, the delicious pleasure and pain draining away from you. The butterflies swarm dangerously inside your chest, worse with every inch he travels from your lips.

“Joel,” you whine. “What? You…you don’t want–”

“Don’t even say that, Y/N,” he growls dangerously. “Of course I want you. How could I not? I have spent my entire life wanting you in some capacity, baby, but I ain’t no good for you either, alright? I…” he says slowly like it takes every inch of his body to agree to say this. “I am not a good man, Y/N. I never have been. I’ve done wrong in every chapter of my life. You deserve someone much better. I don’t want to hurt you. Physically or mentally. Our history… The damage I’ve done…” he trails off.

“You don’t understand,” you swallow, tears forming in your eyes. “You have already loved and hurt me more than any human being on planet Earth. And yet somehow there is nothing you could do that would keep me away from you, don’t you get that? The Joel Miller I love is not a good man and I don’t care. I want all of you. All of the pretty and crooked pieces you try to hide away from me. You killed a man with your bare hands, arguably one of the worst things a human can do, and I don’t care. I still want you, Joel. Maybe even more because of it. No one has ever loved me the way you do and that is the love I want and it terrifies me.”

A single tear falls down Joel’s right cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, but Joel grabs your hand on the way reflexively, so you help him wipe his own tears away.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I would move the Earth for you,” Joel whispers back.

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve always known. I–”

But he is kissing you again before you can say another word, like a man starved. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingers caressing his stubbly beard.

“ Joel,” you whine when you break for air.

“I wanted this so badly,” he says softly, grinning a lopsided grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Me too,” you giggle.

You have to lean up a bit, but you press your forehead to his gently.

“Oh, baby,” Joel smirks. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, ya know that? You like

it when I go a little rough, honey?” he smirks down at you in satisfaction, reading your mind.

You have to stop yourself from getting lost in the warm pools of his brown eyes, your panties soaked.

He reaches an affectionate hand down to rub your side softly.

“This okay, babygirl?” he coos, massaging his hand down your torso.

“I’d let you do anything to me, don’t you know?” you snicker. “Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same to me. I like all of that. I just want you so bad.”

“Think a safe word is in order,” Joel grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. “How about ‘butterflies?’” you suggest.

“Sounds good to me, baby,” he grins, looking genuinely happy for the first time in hours.

He leans down and places a calloused hand around your throat, not squeezing (yet – you hope) and plants soft kisses and bites down your expanse of skin.

“All mine,” he mutters into your skin. “My beautiful babygirl.”

You feel his erection pressing against you through his black dress pants which makes you moan softly.

His hand trails over your crotch and he starts rubbing over the tight fabric of your red dress.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

Oh shit. You don’t mean to say it like that! You know it is about ten levels of fucked up to call Joel that, but how is it your fault that in every fantasy that’s how you think of him? You figure you’re probably past the point of weird and every other standard of decency, but you’re still afraid.

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

“No, no, baby,” Joel says quickly. “It’s alright, you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“You think it’s weird,” you mumble again, further stupid tears forming in your eyes.

He snickers.

“Baby, I think we’re beyond weird at this point. Let me show you how turned on it makes me.”

Joel takes your hand and places it on his crotch. He takes your left hand, the one with the scar and you cringe a little, but he is rock-hard.

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy likes that more than you know, alright?”

You take your hand back, smiling, but you cover your scarred finger, shocked he will allow this fantasy for you.

“Whatcha hidin’ from me, baby?” he asks, noticing the positioning of your hands.

“I hate that scar on my finger. ‘S so ugly,” you admit.

Joel looks flabbergasted.

“That’s the last damn thing I think of when I look at you. Ugly? Who in the fuck told you that?”

“How it got there is ugly. It’s marred skin, looks gross,” you mumble.

Joel moves to take out his cock, and when you nod he unzips and unbuttons his dress pants, pulling out his length. You have fantasized about his cock for god knows how long so you are more than excited to see it. He reaches to place your left hand with the scarred fingers around the length of his dick, which is thick, but longer than you expected. The leaking head is almost purple and your mouth begins to water as you stroke him gently.

“It’s part of you,” Joel tells you, his eyes connecting with yours. “I love it. It shows you survived. Gonna jerk off to it, Daddy loves it so much. And when I’m done you’re gonna love it too. Swear I’ve got so many over the years I can barely even count ‘em. Even got a few on my middle finger. Maybe even one from a certain guitar pick you made me. Nothing like that could ever make me stop wanting you, ya know that, right?”

You smile and take your time stroking him, wanting to show him how much you love and care for him, scars and all.

He grunts softly, closing his eyes, but then shoos your hand away with a feverish kind of want.

“Yeah, touch yourself now, baby. Daddy wants to see how wet you are for him. With that scarred finger. C’mon, now. ‘S gonna make you feel so good.”

You do as you’re told and reach down underneath your dress and begin to touch yourself, especially with your middle finger. You stroke your clit and then your dripping wet slit. You moan softly as Joel’s eyes rake over you, taking in every sigh and groan you emit. The butterflies are forming something big inside you, which presses against the inside of your tummy and ribcage.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers.

He takes out your hand and begins to suck the slick off of each of your fingers, groaning deeply, making intense eye contact the whole time.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, having a tough time keeping himself together, you can tell. “Taste and smell better than like how I pictured. Like you were fuckin’ made for me, I swear.”

He reaches a hand of his own down to stroke himself and his moans become more desperate. Finally, he sucks on your middle finger covered in your slick and groans so deeply you feel like you might cum untouched. He stares into your eyes.

“ Mine, ” he growls possessively. “Oh, shit! Gonna–”

Then he takes your left hand and leads it to meet his throbbing cock. You stroke him, harder this time, fisting his thick length, moaning softly and that does it for him.

Joel cums all over your hand, oozing white globs of cum over your fingers, once, twice, three times.

“Fuuuuuck, babygirl,” he groans. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Couldn’t help it. Yeah, suck it off, baby. That’s it,” he commands, and you do, licking up all of his cum, even the part that got on your middle finger.

When Joel comes down he still looks half-crazed with desire.

“Sorry about the, uh, early release. It’s been a while since anyone touched me,” he babbles in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink. “But I don’t wanna hear shit about your gorgeous hands ever again, you hear me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering.

He looks like that one word has set his entire universe back in order again. You honestly don’t care at how fast Joel came. You love how much it shows he wants you. And his heady taste is making you weak. You could taste him for days and days and never get tired, you’re sure.

“Can still get you off though, don’t worry. Shoulda let you cum first, but I couldn’t help it with the things you do to me. Goddamn. Can Daddy eat your pussy, baby?”

You grin, but then your face falls.

“Didn’t shave,” you admit, feeling dirty.

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I care about that? Only little boys give a shit about things like that. Not men.”

You shiver.

“Really?”

“Of course I don’t care. Didn’t ya hear what I just said? C’mon now. You can lie down on the couch.”

You follow instructions, pulling your dress over your head to reveal white lace panties and no bra.

You move to take the panties off, but Joel stops you, staring at the lines and curves of your body.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, taking you in.

You think you see his cock twitch ever so slightly. He palms his softening length instinctively.

“Beautiful,” he snarls, pushing you back on the sofa.

You happily fall backward.

He lies on top of you, his white button-down shirt pressing against your naked body tantalizingly.

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

“Daddy’s mouth,” he commands against you.

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it!

He kisses down your neck expertly and you begin to shiver and whine, your pussy aching with need and neglect.

He stops at your breasts, sucking and biting each one.

“Daddy’s tits,” he declares, snaking a finger over the lace panties that protect your clit. “Of course,” you respond, moaning softly, grinding needily against him.

He continues lower, licking down your breasts and over your tummy which he plants with kisses that tickle and then one hard bite on your hip that leaves behind teeth marks.

“Daddy’s body,” he impresses upon you.

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

“No more of that little shithead, Max,” he snarls, an inch above your clit.

“No more Max,” you repeat as he presses kisses down your pussy, still covered by soaked white lace panties.

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

He finally removes your panties and begins to eat and suck your clit and pussy so hard and enthusiastically, swirling his tongue around your bundles of nerves that you grow exponentially closer by the second.

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

It doesn’t take long. The second his calloused hand is pressing a finger and then two inside of you it’s over. You were so needy for him that you could have even cum from just his mouth alone, but his hands are what send you over the edge. And something different happens as orgasm crashes down upon you. The butterflies all join together and transform into something bigger and softer, caressing your insides, cooing. It feels like a breathing white dove is spreading its wings inside you, the tips of its feathers brushing against your rib cage. And you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Pleasure engulfs you in currents, facilitated by the gentle flapping from deep

inside your body.

“ Joel,” you moan. “Oh my God. Daddy, pleaseee–”

“Please what, baby? Make my princess cum again? I would eat that pretty little clit and

pussy every day for the rest of my life if I could, fuck. God, so perfect and you’re so fuckin’ tight. Look how fucking hard you make me, angel.”

He takes one of your hands and places it on his half-hardening cock. Not going to lie, you are partially shocked at his recovery, but another part of you seems to know that if there was anyone in the universe that could do that to him it had to be you.

“Never got hard again from anyone I’ve ever fucked before…” he trails off dreamily like he can read your thoughts. “You’re so gorgeous, babygirl.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” you tell him lazily, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as you pull him closer to you.

The heat from his body keeps you so warm and tender and for a moment you lie on the couch, Joel’s still-clothed body pressed to yours.

“Can you fuck me, Joel?” you ask, squirming against him needily.

“You can’t say that shit to me, baby,” Joel groans, his cock getting harder. “Not quite ready yet.”

“Lemme help you out,” you offer, pouting.

You reach down and stroke his half-hard length and then bend over and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

Joel swears, staring down at you with so much adoration it pours off his face. No man has ever looked at you like that before. You’re certain. Perhaps no man ever will again? Not like that.

“Shit, baby,” Joel babbles stupidly, his eyes threatening to swallow you up in that beautiful shade of umber. “Never gonna forget this moment,” he grunts as you begin to suck his cock properly, feeling it slowly get hard enough to throb between your lips with each thrust of your head and gluck of your throat.

You stare up at him, your eyes wide and wanting and Joel lets out a soft, vulnerable moan as you begin to really suck him and take him down the walls of your throat.

“ Unh , babygirl, fuck,” he whines and you have never quite heard Joel so desperate before. “Gotta pull out or I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck.”

It sounds just like it did the night you accidentally spied on him jerking off.

“You’ve been thinking about me a lot, huh, Daddy?” you ask, releasing Joel from your mouth like he wanted, though his hips buck forward ever so slightly with desire, the tip of his cock just barely scraping against your mouth. He grunts.

“Maybe so,” he replies, looking a little guilty. “Don’t know how not to these days.”

“Heard you on the couch last night,” you whine yourself. “Had to touch myself ‘cuz of it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel reaches out a hand to cup your crotch and rub against your slick pussy.

“That’s so fuckin’ naughty, baby,” he groans. “Look how wet that made you. All for me.”

You steal a glance at his cock and find that the tip is weeping too. And he is so fucking big compared to the size of your hand. Fuck!

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” you whisper.

“All about you, baby,” Joel nods in agreement, his hips twitching ever so slightly. “‘Bout touching you just like this.”

He slinks two big fingers inside you and you moan deliciously, the feathery wings of the newly-formed dove fluttering against your insides.

“Gotta stretch you a bit more,” he grunts into your throat, pushing in a third finger. “Daddy’s so big and you’re so tight, angel. Don’t wanna hurt ya. Not too bad at least. Not yet…That’s it, pretty girl, fuck,” he grins when you slide back on his thumb in pleasure which had traveled to the rim of your asshole “Good girl, so good for Daddy. So naughty too. Don’t think Daddy won’t punish you.”

“Want you to hurt me, Daddy,” you moan. “When you fuck me. Please fuck me hard. I want all of you – pain and pleasure. One hundred percent Joel. Joel, please, I need–”

And Joel does stop for a moment.

“Never hurt you in a way you didn’t beg for,” he tells you seriously. “You know that right, baby?”

You stop your rutting against him and look into his eyes.

“Are you kidding? You would protect me with your dying breath. I know that, Joel. Never been afraid of you since I’ve really known you. Not once. I mean: fuck; you gave up your whole life for me. To keep me safe, for fuckssake. In every word you say and don’t say to me I can feel how much you love me.”

“I do love you so much, babygirl,” he whispers, nuzzling your forehead. “If I had to, I’d do all of it all over again if it meant I’d get you. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but protecting you, loving you was never one of them.”

Warm tears trail down your cheeks, but Joel licks and kisses them away.

“Wanna feel me inside you?” he asks. “Don’t wanna go too fast, but I need you, baby. Needed you for so long…Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for Daddy, huh? Gonna fit me just like a glove, I just know it — if you wanna…”

“Yes, please, fuck me, Daddy! Please, Joel Wanna feel you—ah!” you moan as Joel shoves his entire length into your pussy in one hard thrust eagerly. “Oh my God, please fuck me harder!” you moan, reeling from the deep blend of pain and pleasure of him sinking inside you, clenching down around the thickness of him. “Joel, please!”

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

You shiver. The way he says that makes your heart beat wildly in your ears.

“Because babygirl, I would treat you like porcelain if you want it so. I will never hurt you, my angel, my gift from god, my goddamn sweetest heart please know I will break my fucking hands before they would hurt you, before I would ever hurt you in a way that you didn’t want, no matter how much it hurt me. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Joel. But you want it too,” you smirk. “You aren’t innocent in this, are you?”

“Fuck, of course i’m not innocent. I want you, babygirl. In every way there is to want another. Want every inch of you, inside and out. Wanna mark you up so the world knows you’re mine, honey. Want everyone to smell me on you and know I marked you, moved in you, darlin’, please, see, I’m no fucking Hemingway, I didn’t go to college, I’m not like you with words, but I need you to understand that I mean this with my whole chest and heart. Really, I’m not a big talker, never was, babygirl, but I need you to understand I—”

“I do, you dumbass fucking fool!” you shout, giggling at his desperation. “I’d understand you even if you were speaking another language. You’ve made your intentions loud and clear. I don’t want a Hemingway, I want Joel Miller!”

You pull him in for a kiss and he thrusts in you again a second time and you end up moaning clumsily in his mouth, but you can feel him smiling , smiling like some dumb idiot against you and maybe you called him the correct insult because he is a dumbass fucking fool for you. And it turns out you must be one as well because you are smiling like an idiot for him too.

“ Joel,” you moan as he begins to move inside you, hitting deep places that Max or any of your previous exes never went. Pleasure is tracing itself along the line of your stomach. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” you babble and you’ve never meant that more than you do now.

You can feel Joel coming apart above you, plowing into you, sighing deeply. His grunts and moans and thrusts spur on the intense pleasure.

“More!” you moan. “Oh my god. Harder, please, I need–”

Joel plants rough bites on your neck and kisses too like he’s trying to consume every inch of you.

He places a large hand around your throat questioningly and you nod.

“Beg for it,” he commands in his deep, sexy voice — the voice that’s been in every wet dream you’ve ever had. You think you might just pass out from the sound alone.

“Choke me, Daddy,” you whine as pathetically as you possibly can, batting your eyes. “Oh, please, I could cum from just this, but I want more. More of you. All of you.”

“As you fuckin’ wish, baby,” he snickers in amusement. “Bet no little boy ever fucked you like this, huh?” he growls, continuing his rough pace, slamming against your walls, his eyes growing wild.

“They don’t compare to you, Joel. It’s always been you. In every orgasm. Fuck, never felt like this! Shit! Shit!”

Joel reaches out his large scarred hand and applies gentle delicious pressure to your throat. You know even something like this can be dangerous, but you crave that feral look of violence in his eyes and the power that comes with it. You want him to own you completely – every inch of you. You want him to mark you just like he said he wanted to because he is yours and you are his and has it ever really been any other way? You can’t remember properly from the pleasure rushing through you, the white dove inside you spreading and fluttering its wings, cooing softly. You think it’s only ever been what you feel now.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” you scream, orgasm building in you.

“I know, babygirl. I know,” he coos himself into your mouth.

He pulls you closer, presses his nose to yours, his lips to yours, biting and kissing like a starving man possessed. He looks into your eyes and it’s there! That look of pure predator closing in on its prey, that look of ownership but also the most intense love you think you’ve ever witnessed. You would recognize that look anywhere. Your starved brain cries out for oxygen beneath his iron grip.

“Gonna cum again, angel,” Joel growls. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’re never gonna forget who you belong to. Whose pretty pussy this is.”

He is pounding so hard against your cervix and his dick is so big inside you and the pressure of his hand squeezing around you is so overwhelming and the scent of him could make you faint straight then and there, but you let go and feel yourself cumming in enormous waves as you squeeze down around Joel’s prick, the pleasure more intense than any single bodily experience you’ve had.

“ Daddy ,” you whine breathlessly, tears trickling out of your eyes. “Oh my god!”

“You’re mine, babygirl, always have been–FUCK!” he shouts into your throat, collapsing on top of you.

And then you feel him starting to empty himself inside you, painting your sensitive insides with trustful after trustful of hot cum. You’ve never felt so helplessly full and sticky in your life, the brilliant pleasure billowing through every inch of you. You want to feel like this every day, stuffed full of Joel’s cock, so close to him you can feel his heartbeat against yours, the one true place you belong.

“So beautiful, babygirl,” he whispers in an exhausted type of awe.

When your words come back you reply,

“Shut up, you’re the hot one,” through a snicker.

You look down at your body, covered in purple bite marks and bruises forming like galaxies across your body.

Joel snorts. Then he sits up on the couch and you lean your cheek against him. You lean up to kiss his cheek and he blushes ever so slightly.

“I said a lot of stuff, Y/N, but I want you to know that I meant all of it,”

“Yeah, you probably said more in the last hour than you’ve ever uttered in your entire life,” you tease, sitting up.

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

“I am and was too,” you nod. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me — that we did this. I know that our…origin story is weird and unconventional and some might argue straight up wrong, but I need you, Joel. I don’t care about that or think I could go back to pretending to be what we were.”

“You think I’d want you to act like that?” he asks incredulously. “You think I want this to just be a one-time thing?”

“Of course not,” you smirk. “But as close as we are I can’t actually read your mind. I mean…how are we going to be together realistically?”

“I’m not sure,” Joel admits, frowning a little. “For now it has to be a secret unless you want your mother or brother in jail for murdering me this time around. But someday, I dunno. It’s dumb…”

“What?”

“I just have these thoughts sometimes about you ‘n me. I…” Joel’s cheeks turn a bit pink. “Had a lot of time to think in prison, you know? And I’d Imagine us living on a ranch somewhere quiet out in the country with a flock of sheep. I could work at the tractor and auto-body repair shop that’d be out there, you know, in this dream of mine, and you could be a counselor at a local school if that’s what ya wanted. I don’t know, l know it sounds silly, but nobody would know or bother us there. But I want you to finish school and have the best life possible, babygirl. I’d wait a thousand years for you, but if you didn’t want me anymore the way we are now, I’d respect that. And if you’d allow it, I’d still be there for you just in a platonic sense — or just there for you however you want because I can’t imagine my life with you in it. I’d do whatever it takes, brokenhearted or not. I just can’t be separated from you like that again. A day longer in prison and I could’ve keeled over and died. And it’s crazy how much I mean that.”

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Joel,” you agree. “I know the original plan was for you to find work and get an apartment of your own and I would love for that to still happen, but with you being intimate with me in every way – even if it has to be a secret. I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I need you in mine. I’ve never needed something more than I need that. Understand?”

Joel pulls you into a hug and leans his chin on the top of your head. He kisses it then your forehead. You lean up and plant a kiss on his throat and then his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t mean to get too ahead of ourselves now. We can take things a day at a time,” he mumbles into your skin.

You yawn contentedly, the tiredness clawing at your eyes, so unbelievably spent.

“I like hearing about your dreams and I’d go anywhere with you, Joel. But I am kinda dead from how good you just fucked me. Take me to bed?” You ask exhaustedly into his chest.

“Of course, babygirl,” he smirks down at you.

***

You don’t let go of Joel all night long, burrowed up against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. And he doesn’t let go of you either. After the most intimate night of cuddles and snuggling you’ve ever experienced as well as the deepest and most restful sleep you’ve had in ages, you wake up to Joel gone from the bed. You frown, having wanted more than anything to wake up in his strong arms. Fear grips your insides as you wonder if he finally realized last night was a mistake and that you were never meant to be together in the first place (what you fear more than anything). A stupid vulnerable tear comes to your eye, but then you cock your head and hear music playing. Guitar music.

You think of your apartment as shitty, but truthfully you care deeply about your little private space and one of the things you do actually love the most about it is the tiny balcony that overlooks a measly courtyard and part of the city. That’s where you find Joel in the deck chair holding his guitar, strumming it lazily.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says, fingerpicking a melody that scratches at the back of your mind with familiarity.

“Morning, handsome,” you tell him softly, plopping your smaller hand down on his shoulder.

The city hasn’t woken up yet, the soft glow of morning shining beams of light onto you and Joel, filling you with warmth. You sit down in the deck chair next to him, bathing in the sunlight.

“Whatcha playing?” you ask curiously, crouching to sit up on your knees.

“You know the song ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen?” Joel asks in that beautifully deep voice of his.

He isn’t even singing yet but you could listen to him forever.

“‘Course,” you nod. “It’s a classic. You used to play it for me once in a blue moon.”

“Know what the word ‘Hallelujah’ actually means?” he asks.

You think about it for a second.

“It’s about praising god and all that, right? Why d’you ask?”

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking.

“Babygirl,” he begins and you can tell he’s about to say something serious. “You know I’m not too good with words, but I need you to know this: I’ve never had much to thank god for in my life, except for Sarah, you know? But then He took her away…”

You place your hand on Joel’s and he looks at you sadly, but appreciatively. He flips it over and holds it in his giant paw of his own marked-up hand.

“And I was so fucking angry. Nothing left in me. The only good part of me gone. I was a broken man. And I hated Him. But then He, despite the shit I’ve done…He gave me you . And I know our road hasn’t been easy or fair, and the pain you’ve felt and I have felt but…I guess what I’m trying to say is you are the reason I believe that any type of…goodness— of holiness— can exist in this universe. And I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in most of that dogmatic type of shit, and I don’t think you do either, but I do think someone or something is up there and I wanna thank them for you. Does that make sense? Do you wanna hear what I mean? I just feel so damn grateful.”

A tear you hadn’t noticed was there rolls down your cheek.

“Of course it does and of course I do,” you tell him.

You think perhaps this is the closest thing he can do to bearing his soul to you.

And then he leans over and kisses the tear away and begins to fingerpick the familiar melody.

♪ “I heard there was a secret chord…”♫

You listen to his deep weathered voice as the sun grows higher in the morning sky, casting both light and shadow over Joel’s wrinkled, handsome face. The light trails over you too. You feel the dove inside you cooing contentedly, dusting its wings gently against the edges of your insides.

♪There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard / The holy or the broken Hallelujah…”♫

When he finishes he places his large, scarred, calloused hand in yours and you hold it between your own scarred fingers.

“Thank you, Joel,” you tell him, meaning every word. “I think there’s hope for us, you know? I don’t believe in hippie-dippie type stuff, but something in this universe did bring us together. And I’ll be forever grateful for that too, ya know?”

Joel squeezes your smaller hand, his big fingers engulfing yours as the dove coos louder inside you.

“Babygirl, you know that I ain’t a good man, or a rich and educated one like maybe you thought you’d end up with, but I am less of a broken one because of you and I’m never letting you go. If we’re together, I think we have a chance.”

A/n:PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING DID THE SMUT LIVE UP TO YOUR DREAMS????

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

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princessbrunette · 4 days

Note

OUUUUUUU PRINCESS DO WE GET THE SWEATY sexy NIGHTMARE SCENE IN THIS AU??????

꒰ა︵︵⊹︵︵ꨄ︎︵︵⊹︵︵૮꒱

how could i forget about it? now i don’t think jj would ever turn to the dark side the way anakin does, but i think he struggles in himself and not knowing if he’s truly ‘good’ to his core the way john b is — someone he sees as the ‘perfect’ jedi. because of these feelings, he often acts out — doing something canon!jj often resorts to, acting troublesome because it’s what everyone expects of him already (the jedi council, his peers etc). however, in more vulnerable moments — he suffers from deep fear that his lack in being a ‘good’ jedi will result in losing those he cares for.

thinking specifically about jedi knight bodyguard jj staying in your room in your palace on naboo, sharing the bed with you because you’d been too frightened to sleep alone — worried about being taken in the night after rumours had surfaced regarding you being a target, hence being assigned a jedi knight.

you’d bonded over the passing weeks, showing jj your way of life and discussing politics over dinner each night. he was brash, reckless, bordering on crass with the way he spoke and the way his eyes lingered, all things you expected a jedi not to be— but you can’t say you hated it. tensions had bubbled, and despite this crossing every rule, jj had started to develop feelings for you.

now, beside you in bed whilst you dream peacefully — he pants, shirtless and sweaty as his dreams plague him, visions of you being taken and slaughtered before his very eyes, all because he let his own issues obstruct what is meant to be a clear jedi mind. when he snaps himself out of his nightmare, sitting up abruptly in bed breathing loudly and heavily, you stir— rolling over and blinking yourself awake.

“jj?” you croak, but he can’t seem to hear you over the blood pumping through his ears. he pushes the bed covers off him, sitting off the side of the bed with his elbows leaning on his knees, head hung. you repeat his name, and this time he jumps a little, craning his head to look at you.

“oh uh— yeah i’m good… i’m good, you go back t’sleep, sunshine.” he rasps, eyes flickering away from yours because he can’t stand the adorable furrow of concern in your brow. he was meant to be the strong one here.

rejecting this suggestion, you crawl up the bed in your nightgown to sit at his side, fingers hesitating before grazing his bare sweaty back. his skin glows beneath the moonlight coming through your large windows. it was a real shame jedi weren’t allowed to form attachment.

“did you have a night terror?” you hum, eyes trailing over his side profile. he continues to stare downwards, tonguing at his cheek as if he was too ashamed to act solemnly before he glances your way again, pulling a hand through matted blonde hair.

“it happens. just gotta… catch my breath n’stuff.” he dismisses and you sigh out your nose.

“lay back down,”

“i just gotta—”

“with me.”

his mouth turns downwards when he peers over at you, eyeing you in thought. doing so would be indulging, not at all obstructing the inevitable forming of attachment he was experiencing. but after all, jedi aside — he was just a man. he couldn’t help but crave a soft hand that hadn’t been coarsened by war.

“right… f’sure.” he nods quietly before awkwardly easing back down on the bed, propped up by pillows. he clears his throat, lips pressed together as you sit, simply watching him for a moment before gently laying yourself against his chest, pulling the silk blanket up over you both.

“now sleep, jedi. i won’t tell anyone.” he feels your smile push your cheek up against his chest and he feels himself relaxing against the bed. it had been a while since he’d felt this content, and it was terrifying him.

a moment or so passes, and he feels himself tense up a little — almost like he wanted to sit up. he’d had plenty of one night stands in the lower rim of coruscant. sure it was frowned upon but atleast he knew that wasn’t quite forbidden. this however was different, intimate, he didn’t know how to act.

“look i don’t know if i can just go back to sleep right now. that was pretty intense n’i don’t wanna wake you up if i just suddenly freak out again, you know? maybe it’s best if i just…uh… what’cha doing?” he trails off when your fingers slide down his toned abdomen and begin to tug ever so lightly at the waistband of his black sleep pants.

“i know you’re a jedi but you’re still a man. isn’t there some way i can… relax you?” you tilt your head upwards, blinking up at him sleepily with doe eyes that could only belong to a princess. as you do so, your gentle hand slides over his length which jumps beneath your palm through the fabric before slotting your fingers into his waistband.

“m-mmmaker okay— uh, are you sure this is— y’know i don’t wanna—”

“c’mon, jj… let me help you? even jedi’s need a little relief sometimes. like i said…” he quickly begins to harden as you play with him beneath his pants, pressing your tits through your night gown against his side. he’s paralysed in pleasure, only able to stare down at you with wide blue eyes. “i wont tell a soul.”

꒰ა︵︵⊹︵︵ꨄ︎︵︵⊹︵︵૮꒱

#anon #jj maybank prompt #starwars!au #jedi!jj #princess!reader

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dailycass-cain · 5 months

Text

2023 was another big stepping stone with Cass. The character was featured in A LOT of stuff this year amongst a few negative antics.

But unlike prior years the good really outweighed the bad. BY A LOT.

So let's take a look back one final time #CAINAISSANCE2023...

The year started STRONG with the release of Batgirls #14 aka the BEST solo story that involved the character this year.

I've gone in LENGTH on how AMAZING this tale was. If you haven't read it DO SO. You don't need any context but to just take in the masterpiece given.

Writers Becky Cloonan and Michael Conrad gave artist Jonathan Case just this canvas of an issue to tell AN EPIC mostly silent issue.

If there's a tale Batgirls will be remembered for it'll BE THIS ISSUE.

I've lost count to just taking in the gorgeous art Case delivers here and just letting the actions and emotions tell the tale.

The only regret is well no full payoff to what is fully learned within this issue.

It just hits EVERY mark and is something any Cass fan CRAVED, but never got in Batgirl Vol. 1. Batgirls #14 was a worthy issue that should be talked about amongst fans of Cass for quite some time.

February gave us Cass's grand entrance to Ram V's Detective Comics run (#1069) and what an entrance it was! Literally, I can't let it go of how AMAZING it was.

And the run itself? It just keeps delivering as THE Batman book out currently.

It's a slow burn and when the run lays the payoffs IT HITS THOSE PAYOFFS. The series just ended an exceptional bi-weekly event that featured Cass and well, I'm extremely curious where this run goes with the character.

If anything, I just want MOAR from Ram V or a smaller secondary story involving Cass. But given the various characters he's been rotating and given next year is 2024 (more on that later) I'm keeping my fingers crossed for ALL OF THIS.

This run does work in trade but I digress you'd be missing the GORGEOUS covers this series has been shelling out. If anything BUY the single issues and read the run this way until you get to the present.

Or reread them like I've been doing. 😋

The early half of 2023 marked Cass's surprise return to an actual role in mega crossovers. She took part in the final issue of Batman vs. Robin being one of the random factors to stall the possessed Batman until ALL of DC's magical users came to cast it out of him.

The weakest of the crossovers the character was involved in I have to say was Gotham War. It was a nothing burger that made me swear off the Chip Zdarsky run of Batman completely.

Honestly, I feel more rewarded reading Tec more. Unless Chip pulls off a miracle turnaround in 2024.

But I digress Zdarsky was only half of the problems with the other being Tini Howard and yeah, if you were a Bat Family member who wasn't Jason Todd (how did that mini turn out to be more entertaining then the ENTIRE event?!)?

This story SUUUUUUUUCKED. Quite possibly the worst Batman event story since War Games/Crimes for me.

Sadly, the most disappointing stories I'd have to say are on equal ground in Beast World and Knight Terrors. As there was interesting concepts with Cass involving them, and both stories just go NOWHERE.

I feel more so robbed with Knight Terrors as the design for Cass within it went hard. It's just that you give us THIS design and tease us with this little nugget and give us NOTHING?

COME ON!

Beast World was a whole nothing burger as well, save the pretty art and a full confirmation that Cass's old NML is now canonically her defacto one again.

Even if we had it mentioned earlier last year and again in the best crossover event involving Cass...

WHICH WAS IN LAZARUS PLANET: DARK FATE #1. It gave us Alyssa Wong returning for a THIRD time to write Cass and they were joined by Haining on art which introduced us to the world of Xanthe.

That in itself led to a spinoff mini-series that had Cass in it with SPIRIT WORLD. It did more with the new character Xanthe and laid out their origins and powerset nicely while also laying some seeds for MAYBE future Cass stories.

Again, I feel like a repeating record on how GOOD this series was. Like, I can't wait for the trade next year to take it all in again. But besides the creative team delivering it gave us Dustin Nguyen AND Marcio Takara drawing Cass again OFFICIALLY AS BATGIRL!!

Even when this series ended, I STILL WANT MOAR!! Like what memories did Cass lose? What the heck happened with Spirit World twisting her memories of Batgirl Vol. 1 #72?! How will Xanthe be with the Jade Court?

SO MANY QUESTIONS!!

Something else that left me with MANY questions was DCeased universe as even though the story ended back in April.

I still crave more starring Cass, because let's face it STEPH/TALIA DESERVE CLOSURE!! Cass could be the gateway to that.

Doing so would tie up the final loose ends as well. Let's see how Rose is raising her kid with Jason. Silent Olsen. Harley/Ivy. Ollie/Dinah. Jim Gordon.

But I digress. It gives us more Cazzam. We need more Cazzam.

But an alternate universe Cass just didn't pop up there we had a Cass show up in various other comics. Knights of Steel which also had me hankering for MOAR and Harley Quinn & the Legion of Bats.

I know some didn't like it, but me? I think it was LEAPS and BOUNDS better than what we got in the actual season of HQ.

Let us never talk about that season again…

Now something we SHOULD talk about more is the first actual appearance of Cass in a DC ANIMATED MOVIE!! Yes, Kai Li Cain from Batman: The Doom that Came to Gotham.

I was blown away at the extended role they gave the character in the film (to the, "Oh right Tim is here and alive." role in the books).

Kai Li voiced perfectly by Tati Gabrielle gave a balance of innocence and reason with the batshit craziness this film throws at us.

Like, I really REALLY want a sequel. Just to see what she'd do now given full access to Bruce's fortune? Will she follow his path? I mean yeah we want steampunk Bat!

Speaking of which artists we need designs for this stat still!

It just adds that anchor where you want to see more of this universe and the characters that inhabit it. I mean that's the sign of a REALLY good Elseworlds. Where you want more and sometimes you get just that.

But with all this good came the sad, and that was the canceling of Batgirls. I know many were against the series (especially after #7-8), but the series found its footing with #9 and ran into something I hope more positively can be talked about it.

It's true failing wasn't the creators behind the series, more just elements outside that just slotted it's end (Batgirl movie getting canned making #7-8 more wasteful), Evil Oracle #4 aka the pitch, and just being something it couldn't be).

I'm grateful for each and every creator who worked on this book because it was a GIFT that I'll always be appreciative of.

I'll say it again, THANK YOU TO ALL! 🙏

And its spirit lived on in the Nightwing back up a few months ago. It was something that was TRULY needed after the garbage fire that was Gotham War. It gave us this Cass/Dick sibling stuff and GIVE ME MOAR!!!

Unlike the past where we'd be done, DC brought us back up giving us the current BIRDS OF PREY ongoing which has Cass in it.

Really the series is a revelation of giving us things I always wanted that I'd never thought we get. Cass with Dinah? CHECK.

Cass meeting Big Barda and the two having a bond? HELLS YEAH CHECK! Anytime that bond grows I squee even more.

Just give writer Kelly Thompson ALL the time and ideas she has to churn this out to the proper conclusion she has envisioned. Just give me fifty-plus issues of her, Leonardo Romero, and Jordie Bellaire.

Finally of course there was Batman: Wayne Family Adventures which gave us THREE banger Cass stories. One where she and Steph are a MENANCE (as they should), Cass scaring the crapbaskets out of EVERYONE and of course...

Season 2 gave us A LOT of things I wanted in general (her interacting with Damian) and just showing the world why I really really love this character. Why I talk about her daily.

Really as 2023 closes and 2024 is about to begin... Well, it's the character's TWENTIETH-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 25 years of kicking ass and ripping our hearts out.

It's been a journey for sure.

really REALLY hope DC honors this anniversary and continues to mend the bridges burned all those years ago.

Give us that Omnibus. Give us a mini or SOMETHING to celebrate this character. If not, I'll take whatever Ram V and Thompson give us.

#CAINAISSANCE2023 may be over, but #CAINAISSANCE2024 will be the most important year yet.

25 YEARS OF CASS!! LET THE CELEBRATION BEGIN ON JANUARY 1st!

#cassandra cain #dc comics #cainaissance2023 #my thoughts #CAINAISSANCE2024 v

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thatwildnya · 1 month

Text

venti when griffin wifey disappears to nest

The anemo archon is freaking out after his wife has suddenly vanished without a trace. After hours of searching with the help of the Favonius Knights and Diluc he discovers she has made a nest in Dvalin's home to lay a clutch of eggs.

TW: none

notes: the format this is written in what we've named a headcanon drabble mix. it will start with hcs and have a drabble at the end or multiple sprinkled throughout it. these will be tagged as headcanon drabble mix, hc drabble mix, or [fandom]hcdm.

chitters and nickers

Wild: I've started playing genshin recently and it's been on my mind a lot. Decided to write somethin' on a whim. Might make more with the same prompt if this one gets a lot of attention.

nya: i wanna squish venti's cheeks

wifey's bird cat mix

european wildcat, white dove, 7 eggs

very likely this was not planned, Venti’s alcoholic tendencies often cause him to forget protection so it was only a matter of time it caught up to him

unexpected pregnancies with female griffins can be absolutely heart attack inducing due to their instincts kicking in immediately once their body realizes what’s happening. bird brains go into maximum overdrive and once it decides where it wants to nest they’re making a beeline to claim said spot and going builder mode asap.

so imagine the archon’s panic when you’re nowhere to be found after being sick and acting weird all week. poor guy is zooming all over the city alongside the knights and Diluc to find you. once he’s combed through the city he uses his godly powers to call for Dvalin’s assistance. but there’s no answer.

Equation: wifey acting odd + wifey missing + dragon friend not responding. Conclusion: something very bad happened. Solution: it is time for panic at the anemo.

shouts at some random pedestrian passing by to gather the knights and meet him at the lair. unfortunately he mistook the stranger as a knight them self due to wearing similar clothes. and on top of that this person was a foreigner. but he’s gone before the misunderstanding can be cleared. now hubby is thought to be missing. what an eventful day for Mondstadt.

creates a crater when he lands outside his friends home. said friend sticks his head out from the crumbling tower with blurry eyes. what was all this racket for? this is the second time he’s been so rudely awoken today! bro already lost hours of sleep from his wife barging in at 1AM to nest and lay eggs. wifey did what now.

the dragon’s grumpiness dissolves once the situation has been cleared. in fact he was laughing in the end. the image of a large number of humans scurrying around in search of a god’s wife thinking the worst when in actuality she’s enjoying baby time in arguably the safest place in the nation is hilarious!

but that’s not important right now you laid eggies sired by him he’s gonna be a dad! this twink of a god can’t contain his excitement. how many did you lay? when will they hatch? how big are they? have they developed enough to be able to hear his voice? can he hold them? too bad you can’t answer, doves can’t mimic sounds and you aren’t reverting back to human for a while.

has no problem with you nesting in Dvalin’s home. in fact he’s all for it. very few humans and monsters dare to intrude on the territory of the anemo dragon once called Storm Terror. no worries here! so long you had no issues he’d stand by your decision! y’know what they say, a mother knows best!

you are never left alone Venti makes sure there’s always one person he trusts to watch over you and your growing kids. if he could he’d be right there in the nest with his family 24/7. the issue is, however, that you’re the breadwinner of the family. and griffin moms to be won’t leave the eggs alone until they’ve hatched. not for food, water, nothing. avian feline mom’s have wills of steel.

it isn’t long before Venti realizes the problem. kids are not cheap to raise. (especially in this economy) so for the first time in history, the anemo archon begins the treacherous and traumatizing journey of job hunting. it was a grueling quest, one of hardships and difficulty like no other. his confidence and ego took many serious blows, wounds inflicted upon them so deep it was feared he might never recover. there were plenty of times he almost gave up, but he persevered! his family was counting on him, he couldn’t give up. and with the power of love and friendship, he was able to slay- jk he just became a part time knight and takes on quick jobs spread across his nation.

this is quite the change to his usual routine but it’s all worth it. every time he returns to his recently grown family is all the motivation he needs. can’t wait for the day he’ll be greeted by a chorus of chirps after a long day of work.

when he isn’t working he’s always near the nest, if he isn’t in it. and more likely than not he’s by a fire cooking up something for you to eat. he’s glad you’ll eat if food is in reach. man’s on his way to becoming a 5 star chef with how much he’s expanding his culinary skills.

when is baby time? it’s always baby time in this house. and everyone is invited to baby time. can’t help but squeal internally whenever you get excited at visitors. leaving the nest just to gently tug them over so they could see the eggs will always be the cutest thing you’ll do to him. how can he not smile when your feathered face shines with pride everytime you present his kids?

finally, the day comes. he’s in the middle of aiding Diluc unload supplies for Angel’s Share when the Mondstadt citizens are given a heart attack by Dvalin suddenly swooping overhead shouting for him to get his butt back to you. get ready folks, it’s time for round 2 of panic at the anemo!

adding a new crater in Dvalin's lawn he runs to your side with heaving lungs all winded and worried. but you seem completely fine? and so do the babies, albeit two are shivering from the chillness of the ruins and being wet having just hatched… wait a minute-

Did you really have to disappear like that? Especially since you’ve been acting strange the past week?

Your side of the bed was cold when he woke up and he thought you had already left for work. The day goes on as normal, some bard performances here, archon duties there, wine shenanigans, nothing out of the ordinary. Until your boss shows up demanding to know where you are just as he was about to take a post lunch nap.

Okay, there’s no need to panic yet. Maybe your boss forgot you weren’t supposed to be in today? Nope, it’s the middle of the week. Maybe you were late getting back from lunch? What do you mean you haven’t been in all day. Were you scheduled to work offsite? No? Okay, now it's time to panic.

He’s fearing the worst as he and the others search for you. His true identity may be a secret to most but that unfortunately wasn’t true for a certain large powerful group that had already stolen from him twice. He hopes this isn’t their doing.

Thankfully the search doesn’t last long. Once the city has been combed through he flies off to get help from Dvalin. His friend can’t help but laugh when told what was going on. That’s when it’s revealed you’ve been in his lair the whole time.

Just as the dragon said, you’ve taken residence in his lair. Showing up in the middle of the night without warning to build a nest. So that’s where all the missing clothes, blankets, and pillows went. Used as cushions for the nest you’ve built in the middle of the night. The nest, might I add, looks very comfortable. You’re loafing self emits a blissful aura, wings drooping lazily at your side and talons tucked under your chest.

Doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Opts for a third option to beeline to you for a hug. But there will be no hugs for him. Dvalin manages to grab him before he can take a few steps.

“I would advise against this approach, Barbatos.” the anemo dragon warns while the archon flails in his talons whining, “less you desire a delay in meeting your offspring.”

The bard freezes at his words. Offspring? Does he mean you were…?

Venti is plopped down a few steps away from you, this time waiting for your acknowledgement before coming close. You are more than happy to have him there. Thank you Dvalin for intercepting, you’d be on guard if you’d seen your husband suddenly running full speed at you.

You raise your wings slightly, doing mini flaps as you call out to him in your beautiful avian voice with enthusiasm. You are practically vibrating in excitement as your mate comes to join you in your nest made of natural and man made materials. The same could be said for him.

“Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see!” Venti claps impatiently, ready to see the incubating life underneath your feathers. His eyes somehow manage to get even wider as you sit up. You puff up your chest feathers, head raised high with pride as you reveal the seven eggs you’d laid hours ago.

Venti’s eyes are sparkling with happy tears. Head in hands as he leans forward on his elbows, he studies his growing babies in awe. It pleased him to no end that the shells were decorated in the colors of anemo. If that didn’t scream who sired these eggs then he didn’t know what would.

Hand slightly reaching out, he had intended to wait for the okay like before. But you were offended he had the audacity to think he had to get permission to touch what he had helped to create. And you were going to make your feelings very clear.

Without warning you lunge forward. Small beak clamping on his shirt to jerk him over the edge. The bard lets out a startled yelp, face planting into your wing. Despite being a combination of smaller species of the feline and avian family, you were still quite strong.

“Ow ow ow, was that really necessary love dove?” He rubs his nose. Beak snaps are your reply, pouting at him to hurry up. Your impatience was so great he was denied the option to shake out his hat of feathers and twigs, getting robbed of his head wear. Okay he gets the memo sheesh!

The remainder of the evening is spent snuggled in that nest. Songs of humans and birds are heard late into the night, the voice of a dragon chiming in at times. Peace befalls the land of anemo.

Until it’s shattered by a frantic legion of knights still searching for their god and his wife hours later.

~ time skip yay ~

Venti sobs, clutching his bundle of joy to his chest. It had been nearly half an hour since his firstborn had entered the world yet somehow the tears kept flowing. No matter how hard he tried, the tears wouldn’t halt. But could you really blame him?

“You’re going to hyperventilate at this rate. It’s a wonder you haven’t already.”

“I-I-I *sniffle* can’t h-hel- *sob* help i-it!” he hugs his firstborn closer, blurry gaze never leaving his child’s face. “Sh-she-she’s *hiccup* s-so beau- *sniffle* beautiful!” the dragon rolled his eyes. How much longer did he have to listen to his crying?

“Get a hold of yourself. Your hatchlings won’t benefit if both parents are unable to assist due to being unconscious.”

Venti gives a final sniffle before tilting his head up in an attempt to stop the tears. He blinks rapidly, steadying his breath. A quick wipe of the sleeve and it’s back to staring.

He wanted to see every little thing she did. His perfect little feathered treasure.

The hatchling had somehow managed to sleep through his whole cry fest. Cozily wrapped in a quilt and blissfully resting from her first big hurdle. Not even a day old and she had already passed the most important milestone of her life, breaking the shell that had protected her as she grew.

He quickly wiped his eyes again. He’d cried enough today.

Suddenly she yawned, beak opening wide and talons outstretching. Eyes blinking open, she looks up at her father’s puffy face. Venti smiles warmly at her, his own eyes giving her loving slow blinks. His daughter returns the gesture.

She begins to wiggle in his hold, talons reaching to grab his shirt in an attempt to pull herself closer to his face. To save his daughter the trouble he lifts her closer. He chuckles as he nuzzles her face hearing her curious sniffs.

“Hello, little one,” he whispers quietly, planting a kiss on her forehead, “the winds welcome you into the world.”

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badgerbl00d · 1 year

Text

yes, your highness

☆ characters: vinsmoke sanji

☆ up next: smoke sesh: stoner!law x reader

☆ summary: sanji has been your loyally devoted knight for over a year now, he knows you like the back of his hand and would risk his life for you without second thought... just how deep does his loyalty run?

You sat at your window sill, the thin cotton fabric of your dress draped over your body and pooled at your ankles. There was a heavy fog outside, leaving a generous layer of dew drops covering the glass window in your room. The quiet peace of midnight air slowly dragging your eyelids back down.

Knock. Knock.

A gentle knocking on your bedroom door snapped you out of your sleepy lull. Your feet stepped against the cold stone of your floor.

“Hello, Sanji,” you said.

“Ready for our walk? It’s already nearly two hours past our usual time,” Sanji’s warm voice woke you up.

“Oh! Yes! Yes! I’m ready, I just need a few moments to, uh..” you scrambled to your feet, throwing on your white linen undergown and frantically brushing your hair out, “To… get pretty!”

“Doubt you need to change anything,” he mumbled to himself.

After a glance in the mirror, you decided it was good enough.

It was highly inappropriate for you to be alone with a man in only an underdress, but Sanji was your personal guard. He’d seen you in your undergarments before- albeit accidentally, but you were sure he’d have no issues with it. You paused for a moment, considering the risk, but your father was away on business for the week, so against your better judgment, you slipped out the door to greet your guard.

When you stepped out Sanji had to physically calm himself. The sight of something as delicate, as beautiful, as kind as you in such… such improper clothing was more than he could handle.

“Y/n- Are you out of your mind?!”

You giggled, “What?”

He felt himself getting lightheaded as blood rushed to his face.

“Y-you’re barely wearing anything! The things people would say- What if someone sees you dressed like that?!”

“Someone already has,” you pointed out, grabbing his arm and starting to make your way toward the gardens. He sighed, praying you wouldn’t notice his more lewd physical disturbances tightening his pants, and desperately hoping no one else would be awake this late.

“And I’m not the only one dressed improperly,” you commented, gesturing towards his outfit made up of a white undershirt and cotton pants, and of course, a weapon or two just in case.

He usually wore his armor, which he kept perfectly polished, ready to defend you at a moment’s notice, but you both knew that it was an unnecessary formality and that even without armor there was not a person alive who would get past him.

“Forgive me— I did not think metal armor would be necessary for our evening stroll.”

“I like this look better,” you said, “It suits you more.”

A bright pink blush flushed his cheeks, “I suppose I cannot say that I dislike your clothing. It looks- very.. very pretty.”

You smiled, and kept walking, asking him which of your flowers he thought would be ready for picking, what he wanted for breakfast tomorrow, and if he wanted to go into town on the weekend.

He’d been your royal guard for over a year now.

His name was feared throughout the country before he’d taken employment in your castle- he was known across seas as a bringer of death, a terror with a blade, an unfeeling barbarian.

You never quite understood why he- a man of such ferocity and dignity- agreed to your father’s offer, the relatively easy job of guarding a princess.

A generous paycheck? A desire to settle down? You decided it didn’t really matter but you still couldn’t help that sometimes you felt bad that the most you could offer him were flower gardens and afternoons spent reading.

Sanji had always assured you that he was perfectly content in his position.

He accompanied you everywhere. Every day from the moment you woke up to the moment you’d slept he was by your side. You’d had a very liberated childhood, but it was lonely. Your older brothers were too preoccupied with their studies and training, and your father was far too busy to pay you any attention.

When you finally came to appreciate your isolation, you were handed a companion. A man you’d never met to watch your every move and monitor you like a guard dog.

He was a paid companion whose job had nothing to do with being your friend, but still. Company was company. But it felt like too little too late. And it didn’t help that the premise of this companionship was supervision.

The first few weeks, you’d made clear that you didn’t appreciate his presence. Any efforts he made at conversation were ignored or belittled, and he spent most of his time trying to get you to at least acknowledge his presence.

One night, he’d been instructed not to let you leave castle grounds and informed you that you’d stay put in your room for the night. What were you- a child with no ability to defend yourself or make your own decisions? You still remember the suffocating frustration you felt, pacing back and forth around your room while your knight attempted to talk to you as he guarded your closed door.

You’d finally tired yourself out and decided to sit by the window when you had an idea.

It took at least twenty minutes before Sanji noticed that the shuffling and whining coming from the room had stopped.

“Your highness?” he’d called. When you didn’t answer he knocked, “I’m coming in- Make yourself decent if you aren’t already.”

A cool breeze hit him as he opened the door, panic spreading through his body as he saw a trail of tied sheets leading down through your opened window.

He’d found you nearly two miles from the castle, sitting by a stream. You were shivering from the cold, not having bothered to put on shoes or a jacket.

He put a hand on your shoulder, which you jerked forward.

Hot, angry tears poured down your cheeks.

“Leave! I can defend myself!”

He stepped back, not wanting to further upset you.

You turned to face him, “I don’t need a chaperone! I am not a child.”

You had started to yell, and a worried look crept onto his face. He raised his hands, trying to urge you to be quiet.

You scoffed, “You’re telling me to be quiet? How dare you- I am a princess-”

A branch snapped and Sanji’s blade was drawn within seconds.

Fear froze you in place, the hairs on your neck raising.

“Get behind me.”

You obeyed without a second thought.

“Stay here. Don’t move.”

He walked in the direction of the sound, leaving you where you stood.

Your breathing quickened. Thick forest surrounded the castle and countless animals lived there- it was probably just a bear, you’d told yourself. Yet, a persistent nagging feeling had you looking around, nervous something was going to pop out at any moment.

Another moment of unbearable silence passed. And another.

You wanted to call out for him but you knew better.

Suddenly the sound of metal against metal echoed out from where Sanji had disappeared.

Your breath hitched and you felt your stomach sink- you knew he was strong but… what if?

The struggle continued for a few moments and you stayed put, not daring to move.

Murmuring silent prayers under your breath you waited for him to reemerge from the wood.

From behind you, another sound rang out. The crunching of leaves under a heavy boot.

Your breathing was quick and erratic, as goosebumps flared up on your skin.

You felt a hand wrap around your mouth and pull you back- your scream getting cut midway.

You were jolted around roughly, but felt your captor’s strength falter when he bent down to reach for a bag.

You bit his hand- hard, feeling your teeth break the skin. He let out a cry of pain, but before you could make it far something heavy hit the back of your head.

The last thing you remembered was the sight of a bloodied Sanji, running toward you.

He’d stayed with you for the entire process of your recovery, refusing to leave your side.

When you finally mustered up the strength to ask him what had happened, he simply said that it wasn’t anything for you to worry about and he was happy you were okay.

After you’d fully recovered a few days he apologized for his behavior, “I realize how belittling it must feel to be constantly supervised. If I am ever overbearing, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I wish only for your happiness and well-being.”

You felt immense guilt and frantically responded, “No! No! It was my fault completely I was being childish and immature- You- you saved me. I am forever indebted to you.”

You became more appreciative of your time together after that incident and realized how much you enjoyed his company.

He didn’t speak down to you the way men normally did. He treated you, not just like a princess or a pretty girl with nothing of note to offer to a conversation, but as a friend. You felt valued and seen. He even shared secret information with you and asked for your opinion on his battle strategies.

You became inseparably close.

You’d always been a fan of evening walks, it was your favorite time to pick flowers and the castle’s inhabitants would be asleep until morning.

It helped that you also loved being alone with him. You could speak freely and honestly. There was no pressure to look or act properly. The longer you’d known him, the more you yearned for uninterrupted time with him. To be around him, to talk to him, and be with him was a reward like none other.

He held your arm in his, walking with you toward the greenhouse.

You noticed he was quieter tonight than usual.

It wasn’t uncommon for Sanji to listen to you talk and only offer some insight when asked, but something seemed to be augmenting his silence.

It had been a long day for the both of you, as it always is when your father goes away on business. Leaving things in your brothers’ hands was always a risk he was hesitant to take, and therefore he had begun to include Sanji in the daily responsibilities when he was gone.

He’d been running around all day making sure that everything was in order and exactly as the king had left it.

“Miss Y/n,” Sanji’s voice snapped you out of your daze. He spoke your name with an odd sincerity like he was savoring the way it sounded on his tongue.

“Hm?” You looked up at him, leaving your arm hooked onto his, “You know you don’t need the ‘Miss’. You already speak my name so sweetly, it needs no titles attached when coming from your mouth.”

He ignored your comment entirely. Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that. Did it sound too forward?

“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you, though I am hesitant to do so.”

You giggled, “You know that you can tell me anything. I am more than happy to listen. It is the least I can do for you after you’ve endured months of my rambling.” He seemed more tense than usual and was avoiding responding or laughing at any of your comments. Your stomach turned, something was wrong.

“Your father- His Majesty has offered me the position of Grand Commander.”

You froze and let his arm go, unnoticed by your guard who continued forward for several steps before noting your absence.

Grand Commander? So soon? But your father easily had over three hundred men to choose from… Why yours? Would he be leaving soon? Who would replace him? The very thought of him leaving made you sick-

“Oh! Has he?!” The disappointment in your voice was evident.

“Erm, yes. I was notified of the opportunity yesterday morning.”

An inexplicable hurt ebbed in your chest. You’d barely see him anymore. It was the highest position a royal guard could be offered, and the greatest honor imaginable. If you ever saw him it would likely only be at ceremonies but even then, he’d be on duty. Aside from a quick glance, you wouldn’t be able to even acknowledge one another. All the mornings you’d spent picking flowers, the afternoons spent reading and napping with him… Would he remember them?

“That’s fantastic,” You fought back the painful lump in your throat, “Anything less would really be a demotion.”

Sanji lightly laughed.

You couldn’t hold this against him. He was your friend, and should one not want the best for their companions? He had been hand-selected for the Royal Guard and once he’d become a member he had always had his heart set on this position. To achieve it in so little time… You should be proud. A slight pang of guilt spread through your chest at your jealousy.

Was it normal to hurt like this over the loss of a friend?

“I have a week to decide if I’d like the position,” his voice was quieter than usual, more monotone, “His Majesty has allowed time for.. accommodations and such.”

“I see,” you stated.

“I don’t-” he started, seemingly unable to get the words out, “I don’t want to be inconsiderate of your feelings.”

At this, you let out a bitter laugh. By now your contempt was no secret.

“My feelings? I don’t quite understand what importance I have in this decision.

Though I suppose I don’t understand what good an inexperienced knight who spent most of his time in the company of a princess would do.”

Sanji inhaled sharply, turning back to look at you with an unexpected venom in his stare, “You think it was by choice? Do you truly think that I assigned myself to flower picking every morning? That I want to spend my time reading? I am the strongest man in this castle- by far. And to think I’ve spent my time with a girl who’s never had to worry about a single thing in her life!” He spat his words out at you.

Every word he said left a bruise on your heart. But your sadness had long given way to anger.

You walked faster, passing him and ducking beneath vines to step onto the gazebo, but he followed in close pursuit.

“I came here with the sole intention of rising through the ranks. I’ve worked for years, trained for years, and given everything! My entire life has been dedicated to the refinement of skills necessary for the very position I’ve been offered. Do you think that I serve only as an idle companion? That I am only good for accompanying you as you lounge and fret around all day?”

“Then go,” your vision was entirely blurred by tears that you were fighting to keep where they were. You would not cry in front of a man who had wounded you the way Sanji had.

“Go and never let me hear of you again.”

Silence hung in the air, still and heavy.

You bit back sobs, inhaling and exhaling through your nose, trying to keep the flood at bay.

Still, no sound. Sanji stayed put in place.

You whipped your head around to look at him.

“Do not torture me like this. This is what you’ve always wanted!” You raised your voice, anxious and increasingly mad at your confusion, your inability to understand him.

“It has always been what I’ve wanted. But I cannot accept it.”

“Why?! Why not?! Why would you force yourself to stay and suffer with me? Since you have such adamant hatred for your current position?!”

“Because! Is it not obvious?!”

You said nothing. Sanji continued, “ If you are not feigning innocence and truly mean that you do not know then you are a bigger fool than I previously believed.”

You both were quiet. And tears ran freely down your face.

“I have- Y/N, since the first time we met I have felt for you things I’ve felt for no other.

I have loved y-”

“Don’t! Do not- Do not say that,” you spit the command out with more intensity than intended.

Sanji quickly closed his mouth. He held onto eye contact for another minute before turning his gaze down.

Fuck. You’d hurt him.

No pain was worse than interrupting that sentence, but if someone knew, if anyone found out? You’d never recover from the scandal. A young lady and her knight? You’d be sent to one side of the country and Sanji to the other. You’d really never see him again.

“If I may speak freely,” he started, speaking barely above a whisper, scared that if he spoke any louder he might be stopped, “I never want to leave your side.”

He paused, letting the sound of night fill the closing space existing between you. Somewhere distant there was laughter. The wind picked up, as if on cue, and petals littered the ground. Chills were sent up your spine. The silence was suffocating.

“Every day I would wake you up with tea.

Every night, kiss you to sleep.

I will care for you.

I will make you soup when you are ill and I’ll blow out the candles in the evening so you mustn't waste your pretty breath.

I would forsake my name, my title, and my home.

I will gladly take yours- and, and if you refuse to have me then we can create new ones.

To be yours, to have you-” Sanji paused only for a second, carefully reading your expression. He saw the sadness on your face, the surprise, the regret.

“Please do not ask me to stop now, you know I will heed your every command.

If this is- If this is truly my last chance to tell you how I feel then let me say it all.”

You nodded, allowing him to continue. Your heart tugged wildly in your chest and the pools of tears resting on your eyes began pouring down your face.

“From the day I met you, the minute I took your hand to my lips, the second that I swore my oath to protect you… You have been nothing less than my entire purpose.

To see you laugh, hell, to even have the tiniest chance of seeing you smile, is compensation more than any salary, any honor, any position your father could offer me.

I have thought of nothing, of no one, but you.

Most beautiful, most kind, most loving Y/n.

I love you.”

Your tears poured freely and you ran into his arms, sinking into his embrace when he hugged you. He sat down, bringing you with him.

“S-Sanji, I love you too-” you gasped between sobs, “B-but what if s-someone finds out? We’ll never see one another again!”

He placed countless kisses on the top of your head and rubbed your back.

“It will be perfectly fine,” he said, his voice immediately calming you, “Do you trust me?”

You buried your head in his chest, covering his shirt with tears, and nodded.

He pulled your face up to look at him, wiping the tears from your face.

“I love you,” you sniffled.

He laughed and kissed your forehead.

You crossed your legs and sat between his, bringing your hands to either side of his face.

“I only wish we’d done this sooner,” you said softly, “Then I wouldn’t have had to wait so long for this.”

You kissed him, wrapping your hands around his neck.

His lips were soft and he tasted like rain.

He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you into him.

You pulled away slightly, a string of saliva connecting your lips. A soft moan escaped you, driving Sanji absolutely insane.

Your half-lidded eyes and puffy lips had him seeing stars.

Once more he pressed his lips to yours, lightly running his tongue over your bottom lip and slipping it into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss, sending blood rushing directly to his cock.

He pulled away before it escalated any further, much to your (very obvious) disappointment.

“Shall we return? It is late,” he said, pressing kisses to your cheeks, still holding you.

You nodded, accepting his hand as he helped you up.

He placed a kiss on your hand and trailed them up your arm.

He stood back up and you reached towards his lips one more time, standing on the tips of your toes to be able to reach him.

The walk back was lovely. The air was cool and Sanji held your hand in his for the first half, sneakily adjusting so that he could wrap an arm around your waist.

You talked carelessly with one another.

“And just so you know,” he said, laughing, “Being your guard is no easy work.”

“Oh, I’m sure! Nothing is more strenuous than picking flowers for me,” you responded.

“I’m referring more to the four kidnapping attempts and the singular, dreadfully planned assassination attempt. Aside from the one I saved you from.”

“What!? So it was a kidnapping!”

Sanji laughed, teasing you about your obliviousness, and you simply argued that he must be good at his job because you truly had no idea.

You arrived back at your room and stood at the door. Sanji, leaning against the wall, was silent.

You’d stayed out much later than expected. The background noise of the town had died down, and it felt like the entire world was sleeping. It was cold and the stone floor was like ice under your bare feet.

You both were under the influence of nighttime boldness- that feeling of courage that lets you speak freely so long as it is dark out and you are alone.

“I-,” Sanji spoke.

“I’m quite t-,”

“My apologies, go ahead,”

“N-no you spoke first,”

Sanji continued, “I do really, truly love you.”

“I love you,” you avoided his gaze, hiding the furious blush on your face, “I- I wish I had told you sooner…..” Your voice trailed off.

“It is past midnight,” he mused, “And though I love you, I still have the responsibility of seeing that you are in bed at a sensible hour.”

You laughed, opening your door.

But you didn’t want to leave him. Not tonight.

You walked into your room, lingering at the entrance.

“Stay,” you whispered, “Sleep with me.”

In an instant you felt his arms around you, he was pressing warm, fervent kisses to your neck and cheeks- still in disbelief that it was your soft skin, he felt against his palms.

“You do not know how long or how desperately I have wished to hear those words.”

You blushed and walked him towards your bed.

He sat, looking up towards you, his hands resting on your waist. He looked at you with a flattering adoration, enamored with your presence, wanting to take you in, your smell, your voice, your presence.

“I’d pray to you, you know.”

“And I’d answer your prayer,” you bent down, softly kissing his lips, running a hand through his hair.

Sanji removed his shoes, as well as his shirt, slowly peeling it up and over his head. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing how sculpted he was.

This was to be expected of a man of his skill, but his armor hid it so well that you felt shocked by his form.

You’d never before seen him so exposed. Scars littered his arms and chest, markings of his experience.

You took a seat on his lap, lightly tracing the bigger ones, and pressing kisses to his neck.

His hands ran up and down your back filling you with an eagerness for more.

Silence fell upon you again, though this time the tension within it was different.

This time, neither of you was hiding resentment or yearning for the other. It was a warmer, more indulgent tension. One that you were both desperate to break.

His lips were parted, and his half-lidded eyes looked up at yours with anticipation you had started to feel yourself.

Arousal pooled between your thighs, the sight before you was too much to handle. You bit your bottom lip and looked at Sanji.

“Untie my dress,” you whispered.

He stayed silent but he turned you around on his lap, his strong hands easily picking you up so that your back was toward him.

You savored the feeling of his calloused fingers digging into your flesh.

You were shaped divinely, and he felt pressure start to build in his pants.

He pulled at the bow, letting the string come loose. He pulled the corset backing open and slipped his fingers under your sleeves.

You pulled the dress down and let it fall to your waist, the cool air let in by your open window snapping you out of your dreamlike state.

You were suddenly very aware of your position.

Sanji brought his hands around to your exposed breasts, softly circling his fingers around your hard buds.

You gasped and melted into his lap, softly panting as he created new sensations you’d never experienced. Your skin felt electric, his hot, quick touches blurring your thoughts.

“S-Sanji….,” you whispered.

“Take off the dress.”

His voice had dropped an octave and there was a neediness in his tone that had you melting.

You slowly stood up, letting your clothing fall to the floor, and turned to look at him. You were blushing uncontrollably, the warmth in your body spreading to your cheeks.

You were entirely exposed to him.

He brought your hand to his lips, “Now your panties.”

Your brain nearly burst from the overwhelm this request brought.

Never had you taken orders from him- not unless you were in danger. “I-...,” you did not know what to say, “Could you? F-for me, I mean.”

Sanji nodded, slipping his index finger under the waistband. You stepped out of your undergarments, giggling when he slipped them into his pocket with a wink.

He pulled you closer to him, kissing your lower stomach and thighs, circling just around your dripping heat.

Never in your life had you felt such desperation. He was so close to touching where you wanted, but it wasn’t enough. You let out a whine, earning a chuckle from your knight.

“What commands does the princess have for me tonight?” he asked, looking up with a sly grin on his face.

“Only to do as you please.”

Softly, and so, so slowly, Sanji licked a stripe up from your belly button to your sternum, closing his eyes as he savored how you tasted, how sweet your warm skin tasted on his tongue. You gasped, taking a handful of dirty blonde hair into your fist, not-so-gently trying to urge him downward.

A light laugh escaped his throat as he finally relented.

“Lie down, your highness.”

Sanji guided you down to your bed, leaving his wide hand on the back of your head until it was comfortably rested on a pillow.

He sank to the floor, every so softly parting your legs.

A moan slid past his lips at his view. Your pussy was as hypnotizing as you were, so wet that you were dripping onto the sheets. He watched your hole tighten at the mere anticipation of being touched.

Unable to play the patient lover any longer, Sanji pressed his tongue to your hole, moaning again at your taste.

He ran his tongue up and down your soft folds, savoring your wetness.

You let out an angelic whimper, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

The knight slowly slid his tongue up, covering your cunt in your arousal.

Your grip tightened against his scalp when he reached your clit, it was aching for some kind of stimulation, which Sanji gladly provided.

He lapped at it, simultaneously sliding a thin finger into your hole.

You were already a moaning panting mess under his touch, unable to form a solid thought, only wanting more.

Gradually, he picked up his pace, lewd, wet, slurping noises filling the room, clouding your thoughts. He slid in another finger, feeling your pussy tighten around him even more.

His tongue swirled in lazy circles around your clit, and your stomach started to twist most deliciously. You saw stars. Sanji’s moans and whimpers blending with your own.

“S-Sanji,” you panted, interrupting yourself with your moans, “More.”

He curled his fingers, hitting a spot inside of you that set you on fire from the inside out.

Your back arched against the bed, the coil in your stomach tightening.

His pace picked up, he gave you no time to adjust as you blinked back tears and took everything he was giving you.

In an instant you gushed onto his fingers, soaking your sheets, moaning his name.

Sanji slowly removed his fingers, sucking the liquid from your thighs and hole. He stood up, leaning over you, pressing chaste kisses to your lips.

“Satisfactory?” he hummed.

You nodded, out of breath, and unable to form words. He tasted like you, a tart, salty flavor spreading on your tongue.

“Can you continue? Would you like more?”

Sanji’s own desperation began to slip through his tone, the slight whimper in his voice gave away his bluff.

Eagerly you nodded, “Please, Sanji.”

You watched as he pulled his pants off.

You gasped at the sight, unsure you’d be able to fit him anywhere in you.

Sanji laughed at your amusement, “How flattering, Princess. Don’t worry, my love, we’ll go slowly.”

He rubbed his head against your clit, ever so lightly, so as to only tease you.

You nodded, placing your hands on his shoulders as he lined his length up with your slick-covered pussy.

He bent down to kiss you as he slowly pushed past your puffy lips, his tip slipping in.

You whined as he slid more of himself in, needing a moment to adjust with every inch he slid in.

His muscled tensed and flexed as he used all his self-control to not slam into you.

You bit your lip, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders, as he picked up his pace, as you took deep breaths and fit more and more of him into you.

He finally bottomed out, a low groan escaping him as his entire length felt you throbbing and pulsing around him.

“T-taking it so well,” he praised, “So tight.”

He started to thrust in and out of you, the firm tug of your pussy leaving him dizzy.

You blushed, the pleasure intensifying as he stared hungrily at you, going fast enough now that every time his hips slammed into yours a loud smack resonated throughout the room.

You writhed around Sanji, moaning into his mouth as he brought his lips to yours, gladly swallowing the delicious sounds you were giving him.

A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead as he neared his climax, his hips starting to falter in their steady rhythm.

He sucked harshly against your neck, leaving your mind hazy.

“Sanji!” you cried.

The sound of his name coming from your honeyed voice pushed him to the edge and with a strained moan of your name he finished.

He gushed inside of you, feeling his seed pouring out and onto your ass and thighs snapped the coil in your stomach and you pulled him against you as you came a second time.

Sanji struggled to hold himself up, not wanting to put all his weight onto you.

He slowly pulled out, watching as your cunt leaked onto the bed. With one finger he pushed it back in.

“How is my pretty girl?”

You were breathless and exhausted. Your hair was messy and your chest was marked with wine red spots all over.

He helped you sit up and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Let me know you’re okay, sweetness,” he asked, his thumb resting on your chin.

Your eyes were half closed and your chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

“‘m okay,” you said.

“Wait here.”

You nodded, feeling sleep spread over your body.

Within a few minutes, he was back with a damp washcloth, a glass of water, and a new blanket.

He let you drink as he knelt in front of you, parting your legs and cleaning you up, pressing soft, loving kisses up and down your worn-out body.

“You really are as stunning as they all say you are,” he commented, kissing your thighs, while rubbing your back, “Your beauty is every bit as heart-stopping as everyone believes it to be…”

You laughed, running your fingers through his hair, bringing a band underneath his chin, and bringing his gaze up to meet yours, “So are you.”

Sanji helped you into a new nightgown, carrying you to your window seat while he changed out the blankets.

“We’ll have someone clean that in the morning,” he said, a sly smile on his face.

He carried you back to bed, placing you gently onto the mattress, and bringing the blanket over your tired form.

Crawling into bed next to you, he pulled you into his chest, spooning you.

He kissed the back of your head, relishing in your hums of satisfaction.

A warm silence filled the room, neither of you felt a pressing need to say anything.

“How is my Princess?” he asked.

“Tired…,” you mumbled.

Sanji laughed.

“And in love,” you finished.

Sanji turned to blow out the candles.

Darkness enveloped the room, but Sanji's firm grasp on your body never faltered.

Closing your eyes, you heard soft snores coming from the man behind you.

Perhaps tomorrow morning you’d have croissants with him.

Tired and in love, you slept.

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soothedcerberus · 3 months

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Erik!! I keep seeing your adorable centaur OCs and I always wanted to ask what's the story behind them??

Plushi!! Sorry for the mega-late reply… 🥺I was so happy to get this ask but I didn't know how to explain my silly ocs…I will try now-more under the cut.

Dael Braam (dwarf) is a cooped up farmhand looking to see the world, but being immune-compromised from birth it took a lot of persuasion to convince her parents to let them go. They relent under the condition that she finds a capable and strong person to travel with to keep her safe… Just so happens that a strong and capable centaur knight is visiting in town…

Rembrandt (horsey) was created from a dark fusion spell by an amateur mage, who had intentions to construct a powerful warrior to do his bidding.

However, the spell cast did not result in a powerful and fully-armored warrior…. but instead a frail baby knight centaur, with only its top half made of living armor. The mage, not wanting to raise any kind of child, promptly abandons his creation. He can always try to make another one after all.

Into adulthood, Rembrandt still carries a lot of pent-up abandonment and self-esteem issues. You wouldn't know that from the proud facade he puts on though, lying about being a royal knight yet helping all those he comes across with a smile, but never staying long. When the opportunity of having a long-term travel companion (and perhaps a friend…?) arises from Dael requiring a bodyguard, his craving for companionship and affirmation outweighs his worries about her seeing eldritch elements of himself.

Dirk (beefy dragon thing) is the second (and more "successful") attempt from the same mage to create a powerful monster. Think Rembrandt's "big evil" brother. Except he's quite a bit younger. Dirk emerged fully-developed except for his wings-which remain as little nubs. Despite his brawn and warrior-appearance, Dirk was mostly a glorified errand boy, using his impressive strength to terrorize the nearby towns and their land-collecting resources for the mage.

Dael and Rembrandt meet Dirk after hearing word of a giant dragon-knight ravaging villages (and their livestock yum yum).

(I also like the idea of the mage sending Dirk to capture Rembrandt + Dael when he recognizes is his first attempt is not only alive and strong, but also quite proficient in battle.)

One way or another Dirk ends up roaming with the two. At first, Dirk is over-confident, rude, and stubborn... Overall a huge pain for them to travel with. After being shown kindness for the first time and being subject to more than a few humbling situations, Dirk allows a protective, loyal and softer side of him to emerge.

Lots of found family shenanigans and adventures occur-and yeah! This was rambly but thank you for reading about my guys! 💖

#i got rlly happy when i saw your ask but i had no idea how to explain my characters so i sat on your ask till now whah im sorryy #i have a whole 40 pg doc on these guys yet i struggled to write all of this lol thank you for your patience u are too kind plushi #I hope to see u at tfconLA next month if u are going!#also that little doodle u did of rembrandt i love and it hangs over my desk so i can see it always :]]#ALL THESE are subject to change...writing character motivations interactions and story is hard wow how do some of u do it??#my ocs #plushi #kind words #artists on tumblr #original character #all three of them come from isolated beginnings i realize

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vinelark · 2 days

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do you have comic recs for someone who wants to get into tim and timkon? I read superman comics but your fic made me wanna know more about this character who makes me want to eat metal with how weird and scary he is (affectionate)

hello! and welcome to the “weird scary little guy who makes you want to eat metal” (or perhaps put him in a salad spinner) club

tim has many, many comics, so for the purposes of this i’ll go with some big arcs/series and then some random personal favs

a lonely place of dying (1989): aka tim’s intro, in which 13 y/o tim engages in his favorite pastime (stalking dick grayson), tries to be a family therapist, and somehow ends up in a cape and pointy boots at the end of it.

robin (1993): so much content spanning so many batman plotlines; this is just issue after issue of tim being the most 90s kid to ever 90s kid (and then 00s kid to ever 00s kid). also much of it is written by chuck dixon, who is good at being so homophobic that the characters loop right back around to being queer.

young justice (1998): for both tim and kon (and bart and cassie and the whole yj crew)! also featuring tim and kon both wearing gloves that are way too big for them. no idea what's going on there but it's kind of like when puppies have giant paws they haven't grown into yet.

red robin (2009): THE tim comic to me, partially because marcus to draws most of it (issue 6 on i believe) and the way he draws tim here is peak tim to me, and partially because tim is just balls to the wall bonkers in fucking yonkers the whole series. this spans his brucequest and damian becoming robin (and damian in this is so!! and dick is so!!) while tim takes his shaky next steps. he’s in his messy bitch era but also stuck at 17(?) so that just means he’s randomly making out with sort-of-adversaries on rooftops and thinking longingly of kon and getting fake engaged(??) to a girl he can barely ask on a first date. (it has scant few but still some good timkon moments here and there.) (and speaking of marcus to: this and this.)

a lonely place of living (detective comics) (2017): an arc in which everyone thought tim was dead but surprise! he was just stuck in a pocket dimension prison and now he has to come back and stop gun batman (again). feat. tim being wildly competent from page one. kon is, iirc, currently erased from the timeline but never fear, tim still manages to find a way to think about him.

random/short comics:

WF3: superboy & robin (1996): tim & kon solve a case together in a two-parter that is, as described by a reviewer on its league of comic geeks entry, "…a pretty fun meet cute, I mean team-up…" (basically: see above re: chuck dixon.)

knight terrors: robin (2023): a two-parter in which tim and jason are trapped in a sentient nightmare together. if you like those vibes definitely check out this fic.

nightwing (1996) #25: tim being an annoying little brother is something that can be so personal—

and i've also been enjoying tim in the current zdarsky batman run, especially the recent arc (i believe it starts around #125)!

#i'm sure i left out so many good ones here #also welcoming recs if anyone has more favs #tim drake #timkon #comics #asks #i linked to the comics' dc pages (or one fan wiki page) because googling comic series is such a headache sometimes #so wanted to confirm which ones

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gffa · 8 months

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Okay, not to defend Gotham War or anything, but I think I'm talking myself into liking what I see it's trying to do. Starting with some great tags on this post:

#i get why people are hating on it i really really do. trust me#but TO BE FAIR... zdarsky has been making it overwhelmingly clear that bruce is SERIOUSLY unwell right now#like it's been nonstop Horrors for him for like. over a dozen issues straight. with no rest or time to process. and he doesn't have alfred#who was a HUGE part of his support system not to mention the finances etc etc#iirc there's even a panel that pretty much outright states that this is more of an issue of control than morality#and that includes the choosing sides thing like the batkids seem more concerned w how bruce is going off the fucking rails than#just the moral aspects#anyway (via @clownprince)

#Batman#Bruce Wayne#REAL#REAL REAL REAL#LIKE. Zur En Arrh is a LITERAL Defense Mechanism going Malignant at this point#Not only that but throughout Zdarsky's run there's been allusions to illnesses and Bruce Not Having A Good Time#Not Having a Good Time and Not Having Time At All to take stock of the sheer What The Fuck-ery that's been going on recently#Because it's been a CONSTANT steam of What The Fuck-ery nonstop#And the Worse is yet to come if one considers the future issues synopsis and the ''I am a Gun'' story by Zdarsky#(At most I'm a little bit concerned over how Zdarsky will try to wrap this up‚ but that's a normal concern especially about Comics)#(Especially Batman Comics considering how often Editorial likes to... do things) (via @kaosvrow)

I agree with so much of the criticism of Gotham War, especially that the arguments for or against Selina's plans are absolute garbage by characters who should be making better arguments and that the other characters are being used as bobbleheads instead of actually giving them their canon personalities--and, okay, I will also point out that in the VERY FIRST ISSUE, Selina's plan gets someone killed and so I'm willing to extend some grace that the story isn't trying to push forward that either way is actually right, I honestly don't think it's about that. I think it's a story about Bruce Wayne's mental state, because Zdarsky's been building this up for awhile now, like the issue immediately prior to Knight Terrors? Shows us Bruce's mental state is ALREADY absolute TRASH right then:

Zur-En-Arrh was already leaking through the seams of his mind, he was already feeling the impending doom of everything he cared about being burned away, that his mind literally couldn't watch his kids being happy and together and getting along without feeling like it was all burning to ash.

And then Knight Terrors happened, which was one more thing digging hard, boney fingers into his trauma, and he handled it pretty well in the moment, but it's such a giant, non-stop pile of stress on a mind that is already damaged to hell and back because of his trauma.

Further, the very first issue of the Gotham War storyline? The very first panel, the one that sets up the stage of what's going to happen, makes a very clear point about how this is about Bruce fracturing:

And then on the very next page, Zur-En-Arrh is literally stalking at the bars of the cage around Bruce's mind.

And then Bruce wakes up and it's immediately more establishing just how worried everyone is about him because so much has been piled on lately:

Bruce hides his missing hand from his family, just like he's trying to hide how scraped thin he is right now, and goes out on patrol.

Where his internal monologue is all about how defensive he feels lately, how he feels like the years are catching up to him, how nothing feels right but this, making it clear that Bruce is hanging onto Batman with a death grip because it's the only thing that feels stable to him right now.

And all of this is in the first TEN PAGES of the first issue, this is our set-up, this is our foundation, this is what we're being given to understand what this story is about. Then Batman #137 happens and it's literally ALL ABOUT BRUCE'S MENTAL SPACE, that Selina's plan is the catalyst, not the driving point behind all of it. Again, I'm in 100% agreement that the Batkids are acting like cardboard cutouts because you will never get me to believe that they didn't notice crime going down or that they wouldn't be pointing out that Gotham's wealthy are just going to start making their security lethal in response or that the Court of Owls won't step in, that this is not a long term solution to giving these people lives beyond crime, or even that a lot of them should be agreeing with Bruce, that they don't get to decide who is an acceptable victim. But the story isn't really about changing up the way comics deal with crime, it's about even the Batkids are framing it in terms of how it's about Bruce. Jason is really the only one who seems onboard with trying out Selina's plan, but even his confrontation with Bruce isn't really about that, it's about all their baggage, their fight immediately becomes about how angry Jason is at the way Bruce has treated him. This fight isn't happening because Jason's a true believer in Selina's plan, it's happening because he's angry at Bruce and Bruce is in a shitty mental place, after all the non-stop horrors AND feeling like he's been betrayed by the kids who he thought understood that people being victims wasn't acceptable, and so he lashes out at Jason.

When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that.

(And I'm actually okay with the way that fight happened because I can buy that, for example, Cass might be holding back against him, she's a stronger fighter than he is, but he's being ruthless because of the state he's in, while she might be feeling more cautious.) When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that. Even further, when Bruce fights against his kids, he's wrong and biased, especially in the fight with Dick, who he thinks has a sloppy offensive and doesn't know darkness like he does--to which Dick just immediately cracks him in the face because, yeah, Dick Grayson does know darkness and Bruce isn't as untouchable as he's trying to make himself seem (because being Batman is all he has right now).

I think it's important that it's Dick who defies his expectations here, because this story is building off context of what happened between Selina and Bruce, that they were truly together for awhile, they were about to get married--Selina mentions that it the first issue, it's a major thorn in that conversation when she throws out how she doesn't believe that Gotham needs Batman anymore, it needs her.

She's giving him what he said he always wanted, she's giving him the thing that kept them apart, he should be happy, should they head to the church now? Saying that he won't because he wants to be Batman more than he wants to solve the city's problems.

The failed wedding between them is important in part because of what Selina's saying here, illustrating that both of them are bringing a lot of baggage to the table but also because of what else happened during that storyline, why the context is so important. Because that storyline dovetailed into one about Bane wanting to take over Gotham and he needed Batman unstable and distracted, which was working after Selina left him at the altar, he was a mess. But you know what was saving him at the time, bringing him back from the ledge? THIS KID:

Dick was the one poking and prodding at Bruce with jokes and warmth and care and it was working. He actually got Bruce to cry in front of him, to release some actual genuine emotion!

Dick makes Bruce more emotionally stable, to the point that Bane had to hire KGBeast to shoot Dick in the head just because he was so good at stabilizing Bruce--this is also why Dick's the one who says he'll go talk Bruce down off his moral ledge in Batman #137.

So, it's Dick that has to be the one to defy his expectations in the fight, has to be the one who breaks through Bruce's offense and knocks him down in what feels like a betrayal even when it isn't, because this isn't a story about who's right and who's wrong, it's a story about Bruce isolating himself because he's mentally fractured to hell and back, because he's not trusting his kids, he's still hurt by Selina leaving him, he's still grieving Alfred's death, he's run ragged physically and emotionally and mentally by a series of exhausting horrors piled on him, he's lost his family's fortune, he's not even living in his own family home anymore. (I focus on Dick here as an illustration of tying this back to previous examples of Bruce crumbling and important context that the storyline is drawing on, but Gotham War isn't really specifically about Bruce and Dick's relationship, but more about Bruce's relationship with all his kids, like Tim and Jason and Damian all have equally important moments. But it's a very direct example of how his children are a huge part of his support system and draw him back from the ledge of being just Batman and back into being Bruce.) That's why the issue ends with Bruce getting the papers telling him that the bank sold Wayne Manor to Vandal Savage, because it's one more thing that's stripping Bruce Wayne away from the character, and leaving him with nothing but Batman and Zur-En-Arrh. Gotham War isn't actually a story about a war for Gotham. It's a story about Bruce Wayne going out of control and everything is written to serve that. The characters' fights are catalyzed by Selina's plans, but they quickly become about Bruce's relationship with the characters. The narrative makes heavy-handed points about Bruce feeling like he's losing his grip, that he's hallucinating and talking to himself, that he is extremely mentally unwell right now. Everything Zdarsky's been writing (like especially the "I Am a Gun" storyline right before Knight Terrors) has been building up to fracturing Bruce Wayne.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #selina kyle #gotham war #long post #feral gremlin length post

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byghostface · 2 months

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Rq who is nika? Had some art tagged daminika cross my dash and I am Intrigued

Nika alias Flatline, a character created by writer Joshua Williamson and artist Gleb Melnikov, was introduced in Robin(2021) run—where Damian Wayne as the fifth Robin running off home attended the Death tournament on Lazarus Island.

Nika is the first opponent Damian faces on the island and she proceeds to take his first life with her signature move— ripping his heart out with her bare hand (no one actually dies, people would have three lives during the tournament on the island).

She is a Russian metahuman girl and a martial arts fighter, with the power to absorb the skills of people who had died in her hands.

Flatline(+Damian) arts from Gleb Melnikov's Twitter(X)

Here's the reading guide/list of her! Made by @/ redhoodtwt on Twitter(X)

Reading order↓ (text ver.)— Mainly appears in Robin(2021), Lazarus planet: Next evolution, and Batman and Robin(2023), with some mentions and cameos in other/different issues

Rebirth- Robin(2021)#1-8, Robin(2021)Annual#1, Robin(2021)#9~11, Deathstroke Ink.#7, Robin(2021)#12

Shadow War- Shadow War: Alpha #1, Robin(2021)#16~17, Batman vs. Robin#2, Lazarus planet: Next evolution#1

Dawn of Dc- Free comic book day 2023: Dawn of dc- Knight Terrors#1, Batman and Robin(2023)#1, Batman and Robin(2023)#6~7…(current ongoing run)

Another Flatline summary and reading list made by @/ batquinz on Twitter(X)

And here's a quick rundown of Nika and Damian's relationship thread on Twitter(X) Made by @/ nightwingstyles

Some daminika covers that I love! (they have a lot of ship names, and the most popular ones are: daminika, flamian, gravebird🪦🕊️, graverobin🪦🐦, birdskull🐦💀)

Cover art- Robin(2021)#2/ #7/ #15(1:25 variant cover)- Artist: Gleb Melnikov/ Simone Di Meo/ Mario Foccillo

And currently, Nika is in the new issue of Batman and Robin(2023)# 7!

Thank you for reading and taking an interest in Nika!! Hope you will like her as an amazing cool character!!!💀♥️

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sourpatchys · 2 months

Text

Title: Life in Carnet

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: PG-13, fluff. F!reader

Time: after Overhaul, before PLF

Summary: An issue has developed. Though, you can’t say you mind much. The future is yours.

A/n: This was supposed to be much longer and I may still add a second part later on, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for much too long and I decided it was finally time to just post it and let it out into the world!

Masterlist guidelines

—

The terrors of the underworld were almost too much for you at times. Watching over your shoulder just to be sure a knight in shining armor wouldn't pop out and slice you under the guise of misplaced justice.

There was no justice in a world so cruel. The arms of the masses kept those unfavorable in a tube. Never to be loved, never to be seen or heard. Though that tube would grow, freaks of nature holding hands inside the vessel, ready to break the glass.

It was almost poetic, knowing that loneliness could never touch you, it could only stand by and watch as you desecrated its makeshift grave.

You were not lonely— and you never would be again.

The deadly hands of the misunderstood held you close, a warm embrace that shunned all the coldness and misfortune in the world. You were like royalty, standing above those who were nothing but pawns ready to die for the cause.

You were not ready to die, you had finally spread your wings— you were ready to live.

And who better to stand by your side than the King of demise, Tomura Shigaraki.

In his own way, he had become the very thing he hated most— a symbol of peace. He gave hope to those the world had shamed, giving a reason to live to the ones left to rot in the gutters.

Hero's couldn't save everyone— Hero's didn't want to save everyone. Anyone who goes against their morals is doomed to suffer.

It pained you to see the children left to die on the streets, the addicts that had been deemed lost causes, and the broken who were left to crumble. You could see a piece of yourself in all of them, their rose tented glasses had been shattered and they were left to cut themselves on the glass.

Tomura didn't care much for any of them, and yet he had still managed to replace that in which had been broken.

He cared for the league, for the posey he had created with his own two hands. And he cared for you. The woman he saw cursing the world with blood stained hands.

Your introduction to the league wasn't pretty. You were dirty and untamed— having just taken the life of someone you held dear— there was darkness in your eyes.

No one asked you questions, no one made you feel like a freak. You became their healer— using your quirk to its fullest potential, never once holding back.

Your ability was known as the 'Touch of life'. Originally, you had hated your quirk. Being pawned off from person to person, forced to heal strangers who saw you as an object more than a person. Growing up you weren't allowed to attend school, forced to stay home and work— not a dime going into your pocket.

People were supposed to want to help people. That's what you had been told over and over again. You couldn't complain, you couldn't fight back or refuse to help.

You didn't want to help anymore.

The league never made you heal their scrapes and bruises, only asking for your services when it was absolutely necessary. You finally felt free— free to be a real human being.

And then Shigaraki, a man usually so careful with his hands, had sliced his palm. You couldn't even remember how— the memory had long since faded away. You grabbed him without thinking, taking his entire hand into your own, stitching the skin back together with a ray of light.

That's how you learned you were immune to decay. Your body fighting against his quirk so quickly it was at if he didn't have one at all.

And that's how you learned you loved your quirk after all.

Once it became apparent, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was like a wild animal hunting its prey— a touch starved villain feeling for the first time.

He was gentle with you, holding you close, running his calloused hands up and down your sides, forever in awe at the feel of your skin on his own. Awkward and untamed, vibrating with uncertainty and longing for more.

His kisses felt like fireworks, they seared into your skin, dangerous and yet oh so wonderful. He was addicted to you, and soon enough you were just as addicted to him.

Your relationship had no title— though with the way his scared lips would trail up your throat, nipping and pleading— you were sure it was love just the same.

Regardless of the tender kisses and soft touches, Shigaraki was still a deadly man. The king of the underworld, the high ruler of chaos.

So when you saw those glaring, unforgiving, bright pink lines, you found yourself being swallowed whole.

Your body was shaking, from fear or joy you couldn't be sure. It was unrealistic to bring a child into the world, especially when that world was crumbling— when the father was the one crumbling it.

You couldn't hold back a smile though, your anxieties fading quickly at the thought of a future. Placing your life giving hands over your abdomen— it felt right. You finally— undeniably— felt whole.

Dabi was the first one to notice you after you'd left the makeshift restroom, his piercing blue eyes looking you up in down with a frenzy.

"You look creepier than usual."

The rest of the leagues eyes met your own, their own curious glances boring into your soul.

"I have no idea what you mean by that— but I feel like I should be offended." You mocked a scoff, cocking your eyebrow in amusement.

Toga laughed, sitting up straight and tapping the cold cement floor beside her, urging you to sit with her. "You do look a little brighter than usual!"

You took the invitation, a small smile still grazing your lips. It was impossible to fully contain yourself— you were sure you'd explode if you had to reel in all of your facial expressions.

"I just got some good news is all— I wouldn't worry about it."

"Did that 12 handed freak finally propose or something?"

A small snort left your lips, "No, not to my knowledge. Speaking of— where is he?"

"Ohhh, so it does have to do with him!" Toga wiggled her eyebrows, giggling to herself.

Your relationship with Shigaraki wasn't a secret. Neither of you had said anything to anyone, but you weren't actively hiding it either— it just was.

Giving the teen a gentle shove you allowed yourself to let out a soft laugh of your own, "doesn't everything have to do with him?"

You got a strong mumble of agreement from the group, their annoyed expressions almost making you laugh fully.

"He said he'd be back before nightfall." Dabi finally metered, "Then again, who knows?"

Humming in response you decided to sit tight, pulling a heavily water damaged book out of your backpack.

— — —

Somewhere along the pages of Prince Charming finally realizing the girl of his dreams was only a few feet away— you had dozed off.

It wasn't often you got the privilege of sleep, the constant traveling and change of pace was hard on your body and mind. So being shaken awake wasn't exactly something you'd normally let slide— but seeing those carmine eyes so full of worry, you decided it wasn't a hill worth dying on today.

"Good morning." You sighed, slowly blinking the harsh tingling of your sleep deprived eyelids away.

Tomura wasn't amused by your lackluster approach, his body basically caging you in from where you sat, his eyes growing darker by the second.

"How are you feeling?"

At first his question confused you— your dreams still drifting away as reality tried to take over. Oh yes, that's right— he'd known you hadn't been feeling well.

If you weren't so sleepy you'd probably be more embarrassed over the fact that you had in fact— only grabbed a handful of pregnancy tests and booked it out of the closest convenience store. You hadn't even tried to get anything else.

A giggle left your lips as you leaned forward and gave your captor a kiss on the cheek, "it's fine don't worry about it."

Sighing he shifted so he was sitting beside you, his hand immediately grabbing yours. He loved holding your hand— you weren't sure if it was just to remind himself that he could or if it was lasting deprivation from being touched starved for so many years— but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, so long as he never let go.

"You haven't been eating right."

It was a statement meant to guilt you, to force you to tell him every single thing that's been bothering you— to outline your sickness in a bullet point list so he could take care of you.

"Is that so?" You turned to him with a raised brow, daring him to continue on with his spiel.

He, ever so observant, took the bait and ran with it.

"You can't keep anything down, you're light headed, and you're way too exhausted for everything to be fine." His voice broke a bit at the end, and with good reason. Not being in good health while simultaneously living on the streets isn't exactly a good combo.

He cared about you too much to let anything bad happen. After dealing with the yakuza he'd slowed down entirely, refusing to move too fast or too far until he knew exactly what needed to be done— all because you weren't feeling good. He'd never say it out loud— but it was easy to tell.

"It's not something I'll die from, modern medicine will make sure of that."

Turning his head and looking you up and down, he had a borderline disgusted look on his face.

"You've been sick for how long now? And you've shown no signs of getting better."

You hummed, putting your hand on your chin and pretending to think. "Yeah I'd say it's been a good two months now."

"This isn't a joke."

Giving him a serious expression, you replied "I know it isn't, you definitely aren't going to think it's funny—the league might though."

He smacked his head against the back of the crate the two of you were leaning on, looking up at the broken ceiling. "So you are dying."

"I already told you I won't die." You punched his arm, "I'll just be out of commission for a little while."

"And what, exactly, does that mean?"

You let out a nervous laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder, "it means next time we go out we're gonna have to steal some prenatal vitamins."

You felt his body stiffen under you after a few minutes, his mind putting the dots together painfully slowly. This isn't exactly how you thought this conversation would go— though knowing Tomura, he'd never expected this conversation at all.

"Oh."

Afraid to see his expression, you kept your eyes towards the floor, squeezing his hand that was still wrapped in yours.

"Is that okay..?"

It was silent for a while, the sound of the other members snoring being the only noises keeping you sane. You knew this may not go over well, even as excited as you were, Tomura had an entire world to destroy, he had people to kill and a kingdom to build. How would a baby fit into that life?

Finally, you felt a large inhale from under you— taking that as permission you looked up to his face, surprised when you saw the fond look in his eyes and the soft smile on his lips.

"Yeah, that's more than okay."

You sat up, lifting your head off of his shoulder to look him directly in the eyes, awe, ever apparent, on your face.

"Really? You aren't mad?"

A dastardly grin made its way onto his face, his pearly white teeth glistening in the moonlight. Truly— it was a sight to behold.

"I don't see anything wrong with carrying on my lineage— especially not with you." He chuckled, a dark frenzy coming into his eyes, "besides, you hang back anyways, nothings going to hurt you."

You thought on his words. It was technically true, being a healer meant you weren't fighting so much as laying low and taking care of the aftermath— the only change you could see happening is you not being on the battlefield at all, staying at the base until they returned.

But that came with some risks on its own.

"You're taking this better than I thought you would."

That same gleam was in his eyes as he looked you over, his hands making their way around your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, inhaling the scent of your not-so-freshly washed hair.

"I suppose I should be nervous. But I always knew this was a risk." He took in a breath, a laugh passing through as he thought it over, "I'm ready for anything. I'm going to destroy this world, but that doesn't mean I can't make my own in the process."

The Tomura before you was different than the one you had fallen in love with. He was different than the one that pulled you off the street and gave you a reason to live— this Tomura was confident, this Tomura had a plan.

This Tomura knew what he wanted.

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celaenaeiln · 7 months

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Hi! I really love all your takes and character analysis. I'm new-ish to Batman so these are always so educational for me 😅 I was wondering, in your opinion, of all the batkids, who would you say would make the most terrifying villains? And who, canonically, would you say exercises the most self control to prevent exactly that from happening? Like every day, they have to work to prevent themselves from crossing that line.

...(Is it Dick? I feel like you're going to say Dick)

Thank you!

You got me!! Those are good questions!

I had to think a lot about this honestly.

So for most terrifying villain, I would say Dick. Mostly because it's just canon. When Dick was the villain both times in New Order and in DC vs Vampires, he practically eradicated the world based on who he felt needed to go. In DC vs Vampires he didn't care for anyone so by the time he was done there were no humans left. In New Order he lost it when the heroes accidentally killed Bruce and thus destroyed the entire justice league and remade himself as the head of all military operations under the government. Dick also knows exactly how to kill Bruce and he's terrified of it (Nightwing: Knight Terrors). Kory once told him during the Teen Titans (2003?) comic that Dick could stack up all the Titans and could take on the Justice League if he wanted to but Dick states that he knows and that's exactly why he's scared.

Also the way he manipulates every single person in existence in both his typical Nightwing runs is just a hint of the brilliance. Many times when his partners want to chase after a villain, he makes them let them go so that he grab the lizard, its hiding spot, and its family rather than just the tail.

Grayson Annual #3

Dick is not reckless in anyway either, he plans and analyzes and calculates as he moves which makes him a fantastic strategist, detective, and doer all in one.

Or actually I change my mind, I choose Cass. I forgot about her initially. Cass can beat everyone in the world (except Harley). Batman has admitted it too.

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #951

She's unstoppable. So unless the Batfamily sends in Harley, in a straight fight where no one runs away *cough* Batman Issue 137 *cough*, then Cass would win. After her though, in a tactical and fighting sense combined it would be Dick.

Jason is canonically the one who struggles with self-control everyday. But unlike some people, I don't think this a fault of his that should be changed or erased. To me, each robin represents a certain characteristic of society.

Dick - the hope of the people.

Jason - the anger of the people.

Tim - the morality of the people.

Stephanie - the safety of the people.

Damian - the rights of the people.

Dick says the meaning of robin is helping the good. And all the robins do this in their own ways.

Jason's robin represents the rightful anger by the people against the injustice. Like the Boston Tea Party against Britain's taxation, Jason was born and raised in Gotham so his love for the common people on the street is overwhelming. He wants to help every woman and child find a better life and survive because it's reflective of the life he and his mother were forced to face. So when he sees a man sexually assaulting a woman or beating a child or selling drugs, his anger bursts out. And in Gotham, there's a lot of that everywhere. So take a good person and put in him the skills and fuel for hurting the bad and you get Jason Todd. That's why from his Robin days he has struggled with self-control.

"He was a drug dealing pimp."

Batman (1940) Issue #645

"I'm sorry...but that doesn't mean he didn't deserve it."

Furthermore in the Batman Urban Legends comic also in the Batman and Robin Eternal comic it shows that Jason's greatest wish is the Joker's death and that coupled with the Gotham War and Selina's interference, Jason has the most trouble with self-control. But I believe it's rightfully so.

I think after Jason it's Dick who struggles with self-control. Not as robin but as Nightwing. Especially during his darkest days of the Nightwing (1996) comic and the Outsiders comic, Dick has been shown to forcibly stop himself when someone hurts his friends or family.

Okay, the difference between Jason and Dick's struggle with self-control is that Jason feels it all the time because his motivating factor is ever present while Dick only struggles with it when someone hurts the people he loves because that's Dick's motivating factor.

Damian is the one who has the most trouble after that. Then Stephanie, Tim, Cass, and Duke. Although if you're including Stephanie's robin days, she would be tied with Jason.

#dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #robin jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #cassandra cain #orphan #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

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