girls night in the ancient tomb and we know fuck all
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there is a person standing 73 yards some distance away, watching you. they look like they’re trying to tell you something. you can’t get away from them, nor can you get close to them. they’re just...standing there.
so your friends and loved ones try to help you by talking to them, and the person must be saying something to them, because they look at you differently now. but you have no idea what it was, all you hear is static.
you try to tell them not to listen to the person, but no matter what you do, no matter how much you plead with them, they look up at you with suspicion-hatred-fear and just run. they don’t care where they’re going, just that you’re not there. and you can’t do anything to stop it.
the more that the people in your life care about you, the worse it is, because anyone who tries to help is turned against you. so you are just gradually shut out of your own life by the people you love the most, until eventually you no longer recognize your surroundings.
there is a person standing 73 yards some distance away, watching you.
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steve “cant get out of bed till middle of the day, barely leaves his house or is never home, isolating himself from everyone, never takes time for himself anymore, depressed and is slowly losing more and more of himself every single day” harrington post 1986’
robin “i know you loved her, and it must’ve killed that she wouldn’t take you back, but nancy is happy steve and she still loves you. she’s not the only one out there for you, and you’ve gotta get over it. we miss you” buckley post 1986’, trying to help her best friend
steve “…this isn’t about nancy” harrington.
robin “wha-?… oh. oh steve.” buckley.
he still wears the vest.
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jason todd who fucks you harder when you try to refrain from making any little sound, any lewd facial expression, any telling that he’s got you practically soaking his cock with your arousal. you might try to hold back from letting him know just how well he’s fucking you, but your eyes always tell. they get glazed over and half-lidded with blown out pupils. god, there’s nothing he adores more than seeing them widen, seeing tears well up in your waterline after a particularly well placed thrust.
he’ll cage you in between his arms and look deep into those pretty eyes with a smug smirk plastered on his face, give you no where to look but at him. he’s got your body shuddering with every thrust, hands desperately grasping anywhere but him to find reprieve, but that plan inevitably falters. arms wound around his shoulders, body bucking upwards with every punctuated thrust, jason finally manages to break you. he’s got you damn near screaming on his cock in a matter of no time, and he couldn’t be more pleased with himself.
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