#jason is not some broken toy they should be allowed to throw around and cry about that it doesnt work the same

[bloody-oath]

What would go down at a slasher slumber party (slashers of your choosing, though selfishly hope you'll include Bubba, of course)? I'm thinkin' either a collage-age frat party, or else a childhood or awkward adolescent sleepover at somebody's house, lol. ^_^

I’ll do all three types! It would be a sin to leave Bubba out… When in doubt though, stick to the main four!

**Mild self-harm and animal abuse mentions (Stage 2: Freddy – 3, Stage 3: Jason – 3)**

Stage 1: Childhood Slumber Party

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Has been at the party for 0.5 seconds and already misses his mother. If he can speak, he accidentally calls the host’s parent ‘mum.’ Didn’t even notice it until Freddy felt it was his duty to almost piss his pants laughing over it and made sure everyone else in the room heard it too.

⋆ Enjoys playing with Bubba the most. Shares his snacks with the Texan boy and makes an E for effort macaroni-and-string best friends bracelet. He was somewhat disappointed when Bubba ate his friendship offering though. Demotes his companion to ‘very good friend’ status.

⋆ Brought teddy along but only takes him out when the lights are turned off at bedtime, so no one notices. Sleeps soundly, but he’s devasted when he wakes up to find his pal’s fur shredded. Doesn’t hesitate to wail on a suddenly disturbed, half-awake, arms-flailing Frederick, all the while Michael pretends to rest with the tiniest visibility of a smirk present and a stolen vegetable knife under his pillow.

Michael Myers

⋆ Possesses the biggest urge to peek into the rooms he’s not allowed into, such as the off-bounds adult bedroom. Will randomly disappear during mid-playtime and sneak in anyway though. Doesn’t steal anything, just removes family photos from frames and rips them in half.

⋆ Likes to play dress up. Doesn’t pretend to be a character or act differently. Simply enjoys disguising his identity. Will stay in the costume until it’s time to go home. Might go home with it too though. Chooses not to interact with the others much. Silently judges them. Thinks Freddy is a bit of a twat.

⋆ Pays close attention when the twat starts sharing ghost stories though. Loves them, not frightened. Plans to scare everyone when it’s time for bed. Does so and makes a scared shitless Bubba cry. Didn’t expect such an exaggerated consequence but enjoys seeing him suffer. Has good dreams that night.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ He didn’t bring a toy to the party, but like hell he’ll be leaving without one. Keeps an eye out for anything good enough to permanently borrow. Stuffs his pockets with sweets to take home since junk food is forbidden at his house.

⋆ Cheats at every game he participates in. Asks everyone to tell him a secret about themselves but no one trusts him. Experiences a serious sugar high and becomes wildly fidgety. Challenges Bubba to a wrestling match and begins to lose until he plays dirty and bites his opponent. Whines when he gets sat on for his dismal sportsmanship.

⋆ Was outside and somehow managed to catch a rat with his bare hands. Breaks the critter’s neck and brings the dead rodent inside to show his buddies what he accomplished. Everyone reacts badly, except Michael who nonchalantly claps, impressed.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Takes him a while to feel comfortable around the others. Has a particular liking for Jason and asks the quiet boy if he’d like to play Tick-Tack-Tooth. Isn’t sure about Michael and watches him from a distance. Has already had enough of Freddy and covertly hopes he has a hazardous mishap and needs to be sent home.

⋆ Relishes having a break from his annoying brothers. Gains a huge stomach-ache from wolfing down on too many lollies. Spends the next hour groaning on his back with much regret. Pouts at the menace for suggesting the others should tie him up and suspend him in the air as a makeshift piñata. Goes back to munching on confectionary as soon as he begins to feel better. Might learn his lesson after the fourth time.

⋆ Excels in the arts and crafts fun. Creates masks for everyone to wear. Can’t wait to show his family what he’s made all by himself. Especially adores using the face paint. Clumsily knocks over a pot of dye and damages the carpet. Freaks the fuck out because he knows what happens if he ruins anything at home. Squints, trembles and braces himself for the belting. Everyone else just stares.

Stage 2: Awkward Adolescent Sleepover

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Still misses his mother and feels even less confident to socialise. Was the tallest as a kid and still is. Feels marginally proud to retain that achievement. Didn’t want to run into Freddy again but he’s glad he can at least hang out with Bubba. Wondered who was behind the white mask and later realised it was ‘that kid’ he knew from childhood. Forgot Michael’s name.

⋆ Brought some homemade cookies he and Pamela baked together and could honestly smack a shrimp bitch when Freddy disposes of them in the bin. Coolly composes himself. Kind of wants to exhibit his amateur muscles and use his superior strength on the asshole though. Shows Bubba he’s been building up and behaves timidly when his old chum praises him for his efforts.

⋆ Glad no one tried to sneak in any intoxicating beverages or street medicine. Wonders if he’s being too optimistic but genuinely sees his allies having bright futures. Moderately worried about that Michael boy though. Spends the rest of the evening following everyone else’s lead. Got a headache after listening to Freddy talk so much shit and can’t sleep with Bubba snoring like a freight train.

Michael Myers

⋆ Hates being dragged along to another wretched sleepover. Noticed Freddy grew about an inch taller. Throws shade the entire time. Tries to escape the premises but changes his mind when he hears a scary movie being played in the video player. Thoroughly enjoys watching the violent scenes and mentally takes a few notes.

⋆ Teaches the squad how to make a rope noose. Encourages everyone to put it around their necks to make sure they fit. Isn’t being suspicious at all. Brought his knife collection to the gathering and flaunts his favourite daggers. Points out which blades he’s specifically going to use to slaughter each one of them. No one takes him seriously.

⋆ Figures this reunion really does suck and makes a second attempt to leg it out. Couldn’t care less about catching up, hearing how their dreary lives have been or chatting about gross women. Literally gives everyone the middle finger salute and departs. Raids a fast food joint on his way home.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ Wants to compare dick sizes with everyone else. Feels humiliated and provoked when he finds out he has the shortest penis. Swears he’ll be the first to lose his virginity though. Goes into great detail about what his sexual desires are and the porn videos he’s seen that influenced the said fetishes.

⋆ His voice begins to break halfway through telling a joke and he goes from talking nonstop to suddenly being speechless. Wonders if tonight is going to get any worse. Exits the room to practice hiding the squeak when he speaks and re-joins the gang with an abnormal, obviously fake Elvis Presley tone.

⋆ Expresses how he has the urge to hurt himself and others, including the innocent. Says the cravings are becoming harder to resist to older he gets. Adds he’s been experiencing powerful fits of anger and battles to control it. No one acts surprised. Casually changes the subject to masturbation.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Found a vintage glamour magazine from Grandpa’s hidden stash and brings the subtly raunchy publication to the sleepover to share with the boys. Becomes aroused a little too easy just by examining the front cover and desperately tries to hide his first-ever erection. Confused and scared.

⋆ Gives a sigh of relief when he goes back to being flaccid. Apprehensively thinks of an excuse to say regarding why he took so long in the bathroom when he reappears in the group. Doesn’t have to use it because no one noticed he even left. Avoids partaking in any lewd discussions or naughty centrefold viewing. Fearful of that accident happening again.

⋆ Doesn’t waver to show off his newly grown body hair though. High-key delighted by his pelt. Compares his super hairy arms to Freddy’s non-existent fuzz and breaks into a chuckling fit. Feels a bit hurt when the shorty points out he’s only getting fatter and uglier though. Never deemed himself to have self-confidence issues until now. Appreciated Jason and Michael playing keepings-off with the bully’s stupid hat.

Stage 3: College Frat Party

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Avoids consuming any alcohol because he knows better. Also denies any offered drugs. Straight up shoved a hoe to the ground when they sloppily asked if he wanted to have some dirty fun. Hates how the party has started but tries to enjoy himself. Ends up hanging out with the stray cat who sometimes chills out on the fire escape.

⋆ Acts as a caretaker and monitors his highly intoxicated buddies. Openly judges them. Tries to have his own little celebration by eating the leftover pizza in the fridge and watching prime time infomercials on the telly. Began to loosen up until Freddy willingly broke the flatscreen and went on to say he can provide better entertainment. Not amused in the slightest by witnessing his frenemy lighting his farts on fire.

⋆ Needs an aspirin and exits the room to get some fresh air and visits his feline acquaintance again. Incredibly disturbed when he finds a hammered Bubba trying to stretch the cat’s skinned face over his own. Feels betrayed and just wants this night to end. Wonders what it would be like to taste alcohol though and pours a single drop of it onto his tongue. Immediately spits it out. Knows this wouldn’t have happened if his mother was here. Acts mopey and continues to miss her.

Michael Myers

⋆ Has no interest in alcohol consumption but doesn’t hesitate to inject heroin in his veins from a used needle he found discarded on the ground. Arrives at the festive dormitory and busts down the door. Extremely hyped and aggravated. Uses said broken wood to go surfing down the emergency exit spiral stairwell. Severely wipes out towards the end of the ride.

⋆ Wants to fight everyone he sees and proceeds to do so. Finally appears back at the party with bloodied fists and two syringes poking out of his arms. Becomes confronted by a worried, sober Jason and gets his ass served to a beanbag for calming down purposes. Thought the pouf looked at him funny and foam pellets go flying.

⋆ Passes out in a bathtub full of vomit, not of his own, and wakes up hours later naked on the roof with now seven needles inserted. Can’t decide if he’s still alive or dead. Spends the rest of the night presuming he’s an invisible ghost. Trolls immensely.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ Wants to play beer pong and won’t stop talking about beer pong until at least one person plays beer pong with him. No one does though, so he faces the table against the wall and verses himself. Gets totally wasted and needs to repetitively inform everyone just how drunk he is.

⋆ Fails to hook up with someone and pursues to suck his own cock. Thinks he does a better job at it anyway. Proposes free pony rides to all the chicks attending the party but results in scaring them further away. Bubba excitedly raises his hand though and frantically searches the dorm for his cowboy hat. Speedily withdraws the offer and explains there isn’t a horse involved. Back to drinking.

⋆ Makes the mistake of walking past a body-length mirror and gets a horrifying glimpse of his reflection. Too wasted to realise that’s how he always looks like and starts to freak out. Yells why no one thought to take him to the hospital because maybe the doctors could have saved him. Just sits ugly-crying in front of the mirror with one hand on the glass and a can of beer in the other. Suddenly perks up when someone asks for volunteers to help steal the opposing frat house’s pet pig though.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Overwhelmed. Only has a sip of alcohol, then chugs the rest of the bottle dry. Was going to pace himself but ends up driving the porcelain bus an hour into the party. Wants to laugh, cry, shit, spew, scream and dance all at the same time. Succeeds.

⋆ Can’t get enough of the booze but stays clear of the flying pink elephant inducing pills. By far the most trashed and happiest person in the room. Turns the stereo up to its maximum volume and blabbers about how every song it plays is his favourite song. Very footloose. Starts a conga line and happens to be both at the beginning and end of it because no one else joined in.

⋆ Removes his sweaty shirt and uses it to do the helicopter. Hurls it onto a poor, unexpecting person’s head. Pours bottles of liquor over his bare torso and warily squeals when he feels the fluid seep down his pants, into his crack. Goes on to remove the rest of his clothing and embarks streaking through the sprinklers on the front lawn of the college. Has multiple school officers chasing after him.

#slashers #jason voorhees #michael myers #bubba sawyer #freddy krueger #slasher fandom #slasher fanfic #slasher requests #slasher headcanons #slasher imagines #horror #shitpost

[bearly-writing]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Very brief Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Slade Wilson, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson Additional Tags: SladeRobin Weekend Mini-Event 2020, Day 3: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha Jason Todd, Omega Dick Grayson, Blood and Injury, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Biting, Knotting, Hurt Jason Todd, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd Series: Part 2 of SladeRobin Weekend 2020 Summary:

"When Slade rolls back to his feet and glances back at the bed he comes face-to-face with Jason Todd, crouched protectively over Dick, face red with anger. There’s the sudden stink of furious, protective alpha so strong that it makes Slade shudder. Rockets his heart against his chest, and not in the way it should. Because it definitely shouldn’t be shooting heat straight to his dick."

For the SladeRobin Weekend prompt Omegaverse.

(Also retroactively tagging @jason-rarepairs because I forgot the first time! Oops)

Honestly, Slade isn’t expecting Dick to be home. The kid hasn’t been out on patrol in days, which means he’s either injured or in heat. And it’s not like Slade tracks Grayson’s cycle or anything creepy like that, but it has been a while since he’s been M.I.A. and Slade hasn’t seen him take any big hits. Which means that Dick is supposed to be in Gotham. At the manor, or wherever the Bats hang out when they aren’t annoying Deathstroke. Slade was meant to be in and out of the safe house that Dick doesn’t know that he knows about without any trouble. Collect the shit he needs because Grayson has been sticking his nose into Slade’s business again and leave.

Except, the scent hits Slade as soon as he slides the window open. Sweet with a hint of spice, warm at the back of his throat like a good scotch. When he drops lightly into the room it hits him full-force and he has to pause, crouched against the floorboards, to let it roll over him. An omega in heat. For a moment he considers leaving the way he came. Obviously Dick isn’t at the manor like he’s supposed to be and Slade won’t be able to get his intel without a fight. Not to mention that, even with his screwy instincts, an unrelated omega in heat isn’t exactly comfortable to be around - and Slade can’t even fuck the weird rapid-fire sparking of dormant instincts away.

Well, he could. But as much as he enjoys the flirty, not-quite sexual tension he and Grayson share, he doesn't want to. Not with Grayson. Not with any omega. They just aren’t really his thing. Which makes the fact that, at some level, the sweet, heavy scent of an omega in heat is still affecting him - even if it isn’t exactly the way it’s supposed to - extremely frustrating.

Still, it’s Grayson, and Slade has never passed up the opportunity to fuck with him before. And he does need that intel. So he straightens up and takes stock of the room.

Dick is sitting upright on the bed set against the far wall, legs crossed loosely underneath him, eyes wide as they focus on Slade. The scent of his heat is heavy in the air, pressing thickly against Slade’s skin, but the only evidence of it on Dick is a faint, attractive flush high on his cheeks and the hollow of his throat, a thin sheen of sweat, and pupils that are blown a little larger than usual. A far cry from the mindless, desperate sex toy that sexists and hallmark movies like to make in-heat omegas out to be. Dick could probably still put up a decent fight, even. Maybe Slade will test that out.

By the time Slade has made it across the room, Dick is already on his feet, reacting quicker than any normal person would be able to, heat or no heat. Quick enough that when Slade barrels into him, knocking him back against the wall with a solid shoulder to his chest, Dick manages to get his arm up fast enough to block Slade’s grab for his throat. Quick enough that, despite the harsh exhale of breath as his back hits brick, he isn’t stunned by the blow.

There’s a rush of omega heat smell as Slade presses close, and he knows that Dick must get an answering swell of alpha on his sharp inhale. Yes. There’s a metallic tang of fear that Slade isn’t used to associating with the kid. Not that Slade is really used to associating any scent with Dick - usually he’s covered in enough scent blockers to obliterate any trace of omega on him. Usually, Slade likes that - it’s easy enough to imagine Dick as an alpha when there’s no scent to prove him wrong.

There’s definitely something alpha about the snarl that rips out from between Dick’s teeth. Even Slade’s screwy instincts can’t help but flare at the challenge. He flashes teeth, growling lower than Dick could ever hope to reach. Despite the thread of fear in his scent, Dick doesn’t bare his throat in classic omega submission, just peels his lips back in another snarl, ducking his chin against his own wrist where he’s still warding off Slade’s grip.

Then, in a move that probably only Dick, and his almost supernatural flexibility, could achieve, he twists out of Slade’s grip and throws himself over the bed, rolling gracefully until he’s crouching on the other side, out of Slade’s reach.

“Slade.” His voice is surprisingly calm, no trace of that bitter tang of fear, or the stronger, heavier press of heat. “What are you doing here?”

Slade smirks. Lets his eyes trail over the curve of Dick’s bare shoulder where his sleep shirt has slipped down his arm. Dick glares, but doesn’t bother covering the skin there. “Just wanted to drop by.” He drops his eyes to the bed. Takes a deep, performative breath until he can almost taste Dick. It doesn’t particularly do anything for him, but he enjoys the way the vigilante stiffens, eyes narrowing. “But I can see you’re tied up.”

That sends suspicious confusion skittering across Dick’s face. The corner of his lip twitches again in the start of a snarl. “Get out of-“

Slade lunges before Dick can get the rest of the sentence out. It’s a long lunge and Dick makes a startled sound, clearly not expecting Slade to clear the space so quickly. One hand closes around the soft cloth of Dick’s shirt, even as the omega jerks back, yanking him forward and Dick crashes against the edge of the bed with a grunt. His hand comes up, pressing at Slade’s wrist in a move that might have broken his grip if he wasn’t wearing his gauntlet. At the same time, Slade brings his free hand round to cup the back of Dick’s neck and squeeze.

It doesn’t drop Dick the way it would most omegas. There’s a hard shudder as he fights against his instincts, but he doesn’t go limp. Of course he doesn’t. Being half-paralysed whenever an enemy gets a good grip on his neck is a weakness the Bat would never allow.

Still, it gives Slade the opportunity to twist his wrist out of Dick’s grip and catch the omega’s own instead. Gives him the opportunity to heave him onto the bed. Dick recovers his wits before Slade can properly pin him, but he manages to press him back into the pillows, even as Dick twists beneath him. One of Dick’s feet comes up to plant itself against his chest and kick, but Slade throws his weight over him, trapping his leg back against the bed. Dick bucks, a little desperately, and Slade rolls his hips down, because he can, even though the weight of his armour means he can’t feel Dick against him.

A sharp sound - not quite a whine but not quite a snarl either - bursts out of Dick’s throat. It’s accompanied by a plume of scent: bitter anger, the sour milk stink of fear, and beneath that, the sweet caramel of his heat. Slade grins and pumps his own burst of scent, watching as Dick goes still and stiff, throat working as it washes over him.

Slade takes the opportunity to reach back and free his cuffs from his belt. Snaps one end of them roughly over the wrist he still has clenched in his hand. Dick jerks.

“Slade-“

It chokes off when Slade closes his free hand around Dick’s throat. Forces his chin up and drags him higher up the bed so that he can thread the chain of the cuffs through the headboard. Dick thrashes and Slade tightens his fingers hard enough to cut off any air. Settles more heavily across Dick’s thighs. Feels the flex of his throat as he swallows thickly against the press of his palm.

It’s easier than Slade expects to close the other end of the cuffs over Dick’s free wrist. All it takes is one savage blow to his face to have Dick going limp under him and then the omega is bound tightly to the headboard, legs trapped beneath Slade’s weight. Perhaps it’s unfair to expect him to have escaped - he is in heat after all, and the heavy musk of Slade’s scent must be wreaking havoc with his head.

“Why are you doing this?” The words are accompanied by a growl that Slade can feel reverberating through his chest. Dick bucks, trying to dislodge Slade’s weight, but the mercenary just shifts more comfortably over him.“You don’t even like omegas. You’re not actually going to-“

Only he doesn’t get to say what Slade’s not going to do. Because the mercenary twists his fingers into Dick’s thick hair, using the grip to yank his head back and expose the long, pale column of his throat. The words cut off as the omega grinds his teeth against the strain.

“You don’t know shit about what I’m going to do, kid.”

It’s true though. Slade isn’t interested in omegas - that’s one rumour about him that’s actually true - and he isn’t interested in fucking Dick through his heat. But he is interested in the way the omega fights against his cuffs. The way his whole body goes tight as a bow-string as Slade leans in and presses his nose teasingly to the scent gland beneath his jaw, licking a stripe up behind his ear - even if the taste isn’t particularly arousing. He’s interested in the way the muscles of Dick’s stomach tighten as he trails his fingers over smooth skin and edges them beneath the loose waistband of his sweatpants.

When Slade finally dips his hand inside, pressing thick fingers over slick-damp boxers and the soft lump of Dick’s cock, Dick jerks as if he’s been electrocuted and lets out a high, strangled whine that makes the mercenary’s skin prickle. Slade growls low in his throat. Presses the heel of his hand more firmly over Dick. Grazes teeth over the sensitive skin of his neck.

The almost-alpha snarl Dick lets out stirs something warm in Slade’s stomach.

“Slade, don’t-“

The door opens.

Slade still has his head buried in Dick’s neck, but he hears the whoosh as it opens, then a soft thump and a sharp intake of breath. The air shifts and Slade throws himself sideways just in time to avoid the flying kick from the suddenly enraged alpha in the room.

“What the fuck is going on?”

When Slade rolls back to his feet and glances back at the bed he comes face-to-face with Jason Todd, crouched protectively over Dick, face red with anger. There’s the sudden stink of furious, protective alpha so strong that it makes Slade shudder. Rockets his heart against his chest, and not in the way it should. Because it definitely shouldn’t be shooting heat straight to his dick.

Well, Slade had made peace with his instincts a long time ago. And he knows himself well enough to know that where he hadn’t been entirely interested in Dick, he’s definitely interested in his brother.

Because Jason is a classic alpha. All strong, hard lines, no hint of the softness that even Dick can’t quite train out of his body. A warm, musky smell, spicy rather than sweet. Not to mention the plume of scent that Jason’s sending his way: angry, possessive, pack protecting pack. Designed to send most alphas scurrying away with their tails between their legs, or at least force a challenge. Most alphas would find the scent repellent - a horrible comedown after the sweet temptation of Dick’s heat smell - but Slade isn’t most alphas, and this is riling him up in an entirely different way.

“I swear to God Dick, if this is some fucked up joke the two of you are playing...”

Dick makes a strange sound, jerking his arms as if he wants to reach for Jason. “No, Jay - I don’t -“

Slade slams Jason off the bed before Dick can finish his sentence.

Jason puts up a better fight than Dick did. That isn’t usually the case, Slade suspects, because there’s something unrefined about the alpha that’s usually polished in Dick, and there aren’t many people - save himself and the Bat - who really can beat Nightwing. But the omega had been heat-addled during their bout, so Jason has the upper-hand in that particular battle. Not in this one though. Not against Slade.

The alpha isn’t a bad fighter, but he’s wearing civilian clothes rather than armour, so every blow Slade lands hits like a sledgehammer. The kid holds up surprisingly well, considering, but Slade definitely hears a rib crack when he gets a good hit in against his chest after a wild strike leaves it undefended. Gets a low grunt of pain when he catches that toned stomach with a knee. Has the kid stumbling with a well-timed blow to his ear. There are no weapons besides their fists and their training. The kid is clearly taken by surprise and Slade doesn’t see the need to draw his - not when he can win this so easily without any. Jason has some impressive tricks, but that can’t make up for Slade’s armour, his meta abilities, his years of training. And Slade can tell Jason is distracted by Dick, by his own anger and his desire to protect his brother when he’s so vulnerable. It’s cute, and it sends shivery heat down Slade’s spine every time Jason gets himself between Slade and the bed. It’s a delightfully alpha thing to do.

Eventually though, Slade gets bored of toying with him. A savage blow to his jaw and a sweep of Slade’s leg sends Jason to the floor. Then Slade is on top of him, gripping one of his wrists and forcing the arm into a painful pin behind his back. Pressing his knee into the soft calf muscle of his leg, sweeping his other knee into the inside of Jason’s thigh and forcing it wide. Gripping a handful of that curly hair with his free hand.

Jason lets out a truly impressive growl, almost as low as Slade’s, and pulls against his hold. It’s a beautiful show. The rumble of it vibrates all the way through Slade’s chest where he’s blanketed over the alpha’s back, even through his armour. Curls liquid heat in Slade’s gut. Maybe other alpha’s would be intimidated, but Slade just presses closer and lets out the moan that’s been building in his throat in response. Beneath him, Jason goes stiff. On the bed, Dick offers his own growl - impressive in its own way, for an omega.

“What the fuck are you doing Slade? Get the hell off of me and then fuck off out of here.”

Slade just hums, using his grip to tilt Jason’s head back until the expanse of his neck is bared by the strain. They’re pressed so close that Slade can hear the wet movement of his throat as he swallows.

“Whatever the fuck you want with Dick-“

“I was just going to tease Grayson a little.” Slade presses his nose against the soft join between the younger alpha’s neck and shoulder, keeping his grip firm enough that when Jason snaps his teeth, they aren’t in any danger of actually reaching him. “But then you came along and made everything so much more interesting. You must have heard the rumours after all.” He follows that up with a sharp nip at the alpha’s throat.

That gets him a flurry of desperate movement as Jason bucks against his hold, straining against the grip on his arm, kicking out with the leg that isn’t pinned down, even though it’s pressed too wide to do any damage. Slade just rides the movement. Then he jerks Jason forward with a sharp thrust of his hips, forcing his face against the carpet and holding him there as he licks a delicious stripe up the back of his neck.

Even when he presses teeth to the delicate scent gland beneath Jason’s jaw, there’s no fear in the boy’s scent, just the sharp spice of furious alpha. Up on the bed, Dick is pumping out enough fear for the both of them, tugging against his cuffs hard enough that Slade can taste blood in the air.

That lances more heat straight through Slade and he presses his teeth in deep until rich, coppery blood bursts over his tongue. The alpha underneath him lets out a high, strangled sound, caught between a snarl and a whine, and Slade can feel the hard shudder before Jason falls still, trembling. Even Bruce’s training can’t quite override the instinct to surrender to a victorious bite.

Pleased with the surrender, Slade laps soothingly at the wound, little frissures of pleasure sparking with each cut-off whimper and twitch of pain. Presses his hips hard against the swell of Jason’s ass even though he won’t be able to feel Slade’s growing hardness beneath the weight of his armour. Jason snarls obligingly anyway.

“Slade!” It’s Dick, sounding desperate, a submissive omega whine to his voice that Slade could never have imagined him making if he wasn’t hearing it now. “You’ve had your fun. You don’t need to do this.”

“I don’t need to do anything Dickie,” Slade reminds him. But he pulls back, shifting his grip from Jason’s hair to his neck, so that he can drag him with him, pressing him back against his chest, fingers tight enough against his throat to make Jason’s breath stutter, trapping his arm between his own back and Slade’s armour.

“Are you going to be good for me, kid?”

He suspects that would draw another snarl, but Jason can only choke beneath the insistent press of the mercenary’s fingers. He struggles gamely, knocking his shoulders back with enough force that it must hurt, straining against the hold and the lack of air. Slade doesn’t let up, only mouths sloppily at the skin not covered by his own hand. Finally the young alpha goes limp. Only his jaw moves, working as he struggles to draw in air.

“Good boy,” Slade murmurs as he peels his fingers away, letting Jason slump forward a little, gasping in a desperate lungful of air, no doubt thick with Slade’s own musky arousal. Another delightful shudder wracks through Jason. The hand that Slade had pressed against his throat shifts to his waist. Grips the hem of the t-shirt he’s wearing and drags it up his stomach and over his head before he can protest. When Slade shoves him forward so that he can drag his arms behind him and tie them together with his own shirt, Jason does fight, but by then it’s too late to do much more than writhe uselessly with a growl.

After that, it’s easy to clamp a hand over the back of Jason’s neck and drag him over to the bed. As they approach, Dick watches warily, eyes wide and dark in his face. When Slade heaves Jason up onto the bed, skilfully avoiding a wild kick from the alpha as he does so, Dick curls his own legs up, as if he might kick at him too. But Jason is an effective meat-shield between them and Slade forces the alpha down, trapping Dick’s legs against his chest. A bloom of heat-scent washes over them as Dick’s legs are forced up and the omega makes a tight, protesting sound that’s echoed by Jason as Slade forces his head against his brother’s neck.

“This isn’t funny Slade,” Jason snarls, voice muffled where his face is pressed against Dick. “Stop messing around and let us go.”

“You think I’m messing around?” Slade lets his voice drop dangerously, cool as ice. Maybe his banter with Dick has given the Bats the wrong impression. He’s as dangerous as any other criminal. They shouldn’t forget that. And he’s going to prove it to them.

He takes a moment to rearrange Jason. Uses one hand to grip his hip as he presses his head down with the other. Kicks his legs wide until they’re resting either side of Dick, ignoring the way Jason tries to twist out of his grip. The omega takes the opportunity to slide his own legs back down as the pressure lessens, shooting Slade a hateful glare when the mercenary presses his knees between them too and settles himself between them.

“Don’t do this Slade.” And even as he glares he tilts his chin up, although whether it’s an attempt to comfort Jason or to appease Slade, he can’t tell. “You’re a mercenary not a rapist.”

For a moment Slade considers that as he eyes the curve of Dick’s neck. It isn’t entirely true. Sure, Slade doesn’t make a habit out of this sort of thing, but Slade is a man who gets what he wants, when he wants it. And there aren’t many people who can say no to him. This hadn’t been his intention when he had slipped through Dick’s window, but now he’s here, he can’t say he minds the direction this night has taken. He isn’t the sort to deny himself his pleasure for the sake of morals.

So he leans forward, crushing Jason between them and driving the breath from both of them, before clamping his teeth against the smooth, unmarred skin of Dick’s neck in a hard bite. It’s not deep enough to be a claim, but it is deep enough to make Dick go still and silent. For Dick to let out a gasp that isn’t entirely pain. For the sudden smell of slick that slides out from underneath them.

Jason snarls furiously with the little breath he has left, but he doesn’t flash any teeth - not when his mouth is pressed against his brother rather than pointed at Slade. His nose is digging in at the curve of Dick’s jaw, right at the source of that rich heat scent, but there’s no answering swell of arousal from Jason that Slade can detect. Only the first little flash of fear. Maybe his instincts are skewed by the alpha at his back. Or maybe the pack-brother bond is strong despite their lack of blood-relation. Most likely Jason wasn’t here to fuck Dick through his heat then.

It doesn’t particularly matter to Slade. He doesn’t need Jason aroused for this.

“I think you should stop assuming you know anything about me, kid.” As he says it, he clicks open the clasp of his gauntlet with his teeth, so he can feel Jason’s bare skin as he smooths a hand down his back. The young alpha is so tense that he’s trembling. Every muscle clenching as Slade slides his palm over them. When he reaches Jason’s bound arms and slides his hand around, he can feel the muscles of that taut stomach twitch. The soft cotton of Dick’s sleep shirt brushes his knuckles as he presses between them.

There’s a sharp intake of breath. Then Dick lets out a shaky omega croon, reacting to the burst of bitter fear in Jason’s scent. His pupils are blown wide by the bite and the heavy press of Slade’s arousal.

“Shut the fuck up, Dick,” Jason snaps. Then, when Slade pops open the button of his jeans and drags them, and his boxers, down his thighs: “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Not that there’s much he can do about it. Slade presses his hips down against bare flesh as Jason bucks and gets a delightful shiver in return. He fumbles at his waist, frees his own cock with deft movements. Groans at the sensation of cool air against heated flesh. That gets another hard shudder as the room floods with his smell and the tip presses against the soft crease of Jason’s thigh.

“Don’t,” Jason tries, again. Not so angry now - small, desperate. Slade grins against the back of his neck. Shifts his hips to drag his cock across Jason’s skin. It slides easily enough, slick with pre-cum, blood-hot and throbbing. Slade hasn’t been this hard in a long time and he knows with a distant sort of irritation that part of it is due to the syrupy heat scent he can’t help but inhale this close to Dick.

It doesn’t matter - Dick’s not the one he’s fucking. But he swipes his nose across the scent gland at Dick’s collarbone anyway and feels heat surge through his veins in response. The omega is perfectly still beneath him, still obedient from the bite, but the tight line of his throat suggests that soon won’t be the case.

Not that there’s much he can do anyway.

Slade turns his attention back to Jason, pressing his nose beneath the young alpha’s jaw. He gets a burst of spice and metal for his trouble, and that has his cock twitching where it still rests against Jason’s thigh. He presses his tongue flat against the gland and savours the sharp taste of it, and the little whimper Jason can’t quite keep between his teeth. Teases the soft skin with a prick of teeth.

Jason’s eyes are shut tight, his body one hard line against Dick’s. No point putting this off any longer. Slade’s aching so badly it hurts.

He presses his teeth in until he tastes blood again and Jason softens beneath him. It’s not quite surrender but Slade doesn’t care - he’s wound too tight from Jason’s skin against him, his blood on his tongue, the heavy press of his scent in the room.

Slade pulls himself up a little, settling more easily on his knees. One hand goes to the back of Jason’s neck, holding him firmly against Dick. The other tugs his hips up to meet Slade. For a suspended moment Slade just holds him there, against the hard, hot promise of his cock, and Jason lets him, strangely slack beneath his hands.

That changes when Slade shifts, cock sliding through the cleft of the young alpha’s ass, catching against his rim with a delightful burst of sensation. Jason immediately goes tense.

“No.” It’s a strangled, airless little thing, but no less desperate for it. “No, no, Slade-“

Slade just leans down and nips at Jason’s jaw, pulling a little growl from his chest that has Jason shuddering underneath him. At this angle, Slade can’t really see his face, but he catches Dick’s eyes, wide and dark. There’s a filmy, shiny quality to them - the promise of tears.

“Sl’de,” the omega is almost slurring. The thick arousal in the air and the bite must be affecting him worse than Slade had expected. “Don’t do this. God - don’t. Please.”

Slade ignores them both. Presses his cock into the furled muscle of Jason’s entrance and pushes in without any more preamble.

At first there’s resistance. Jason is tight and dry and tense, with no omega slick to ease the way, and Slade, as vain as it sounds to say it himself, is bigger than the average alpha. The only concession Jason is getting are the wet beads of pre-cum welling at the tip of his cock. It’s not enough. But Jason can take it. He’s going to have to take it.

He presses harder and something gives, then Slade is sinking into soft, dry heat, so tight that it hurts - and Slade can’t deny he likes that too.

Jason cries out, sharp and pained. Tries to strangle the sound, clenching his teeth so hard that Slade can hear his jaw creak, but it still hisses from between his lips. Beneath him, Dick sobs, surprisingly loud, even with the sound Jason had made. The fledgling tears burst into life. Slade smells salt as they slide over Dick’s cheeks - salt and blood and fear.

He groans, so low in his throat it’s almost a growl, as he sheathes himself inside Jason. Dick echoes it with another croon, tight and shaky with anger, and he scrubs his cheek against the young alpha’s face, smearing tears across his skin, trying to press his own scent against him.

Jason’s head jerks, as if he isn’t sure whether to pull away or bury himself closer to the offered comfort. A choked whine slips out. When Slade pulls out, his breath catches in a gasp that mutates into a sound too strangled to be a proper scream as he forces his way back in again.

It’s perfect: the tight, wet heat of Jason sheathed around his cock, blood slicking the way as Slade picks up speed. The horror on Dick’s face as each thrust rocks Jason down against him. The way he alternates between snarling up at Slade and pressing desperate, kittenish licks and kisses to any part of Jason he can reach. The way Jason has gone still and silent underneath Slade, biting his lip against any more of those wounded noises so hard that Slade can smell another bloom of blood.

Maybe it’s the scent of heat in the air. Or the blood. Or the metallic smell of both their fear. But Slade feels wild, almost out of control, as if he might slip into a rut at any moment. It lends an almost frantic strength to his thrusts. Every sharp snap of his hips drives the breath from the two bodies underneath him. The whole bed shakes, shunting across the floor with the power of his movements. The primal, animalistic part of Slade is crowing at such an obvious show of strength. Purring at the thought of the two warm bodies under him, totally under his control, utterly dominated.

“Fuck,” he manages. Shifts his grip at Jason’s neck to press his thumb hard into the swollen scent gland behind the kid’s ear. Jason groans at the pressure, although it’s difficult to tell whether the sound is pleasure or pain. “God, you’re tight. So fucking good for me.”

Jason makes a small, protesting sound but it’s drowned out by the snarl that tears free from Dick’s throat. The worst of the bite must have passed now. Slade doesn’t mind, he gets a little thrill from the pure hatred burning in Dick’s blue eyes.

“Fuck you,” Dick snarls, low and throaty and wet with tears. “I’m going to fucking kill you Slade.”

Slade just smirks. “No you aren’t, sweetheart. You’re going to lie there and look pretty and know that this is all your fault. If it weren’t for your heat, you wouldn’t be in this situation and you know it.”

The glare that Dick fixes on him has electricity shooting straight to Slade’s cock. He can’t help a fluttering little moan, curling over Jason’s broad back as heat pools in his gut. The sudden rush of pleasure takes him a little by surprise. Normally it takes far longer to get to this point - the promise of his orgasm warm under his skin. He can feel his knot start to swell at the base of his cock, stretching Jason further with every thrust.

Jason must feel it too. He gasps, trembles, lets out a frightened little whimper that Slade has only heard from alphas who know they’re about to die before.

“No,” he gasps. The word is small and weak. Broken. But Jason struggles with renewed energy. Slade just holds him more firmly, pressing his thumb so hard into his gland that anyone else would likely be paralysed. “No, Slade - God - don’t - I can’t. I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” Slade snarls. “You can take it. You can take my knot.”

Normally, Slade wouldn’t knot an alpha. Even alphas who come to his bed willingly can become violent if their instincts flare and it’s never a good idea to be tied and vulnerable. And Slade doesn’t actually have much experience with alphas who don’t want to be on his knot, but tying himself to someone who actively wants to kill him can never be a good idea.

Except...the scent of Dick’s heat is affecting Slade. The overwhelming smell of slick and fear that Dick’s been pumping out from the beginning is calling to something primal that Slade usually barely registers as existing. Telling him to knot and breed and claim. Slade doesn’t think he could stop this knot if he tried.

“Knot?” Dick, small and strangled and desperate. “No, Slade. He’s an alpha. Please, he’s an alpha, you’ll kill him. You can’t…”

Slade snaps his teeth, pulling a growl that sounds demonic even to him. “I can.”

It’s getting more difficult to pull out with every thrust as Slade’s knot swells. Jason’s body is a vice around him, so tight that it does feel as if Slade will tear him in two at any second. He’s fighting in genuine panic now, thrashing against Slade’s grip, whimpering on every breath. Dick seems just as frantic, snarling like a dog, angry tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Take it,” Slade growls. He drags his thumb down to press over the ragged bite wound that’s left of the scent gland beneath Jason’s jaw instead. Trying to get him to relax just enough to let Slade in. It doesn’t matter to Slade if he tears apart, but the kid is so tight that Slade isn’t sure if he’ll even get in. “Take it, you-“

Dick lunges, pulling hard against his cuffs with a metallic bang. Pain spears through Slade’s hand as sharp teeth close around the thumb against Jason’s neck and tear.

Slade roars. Lets go of Jason’s hip to close his free hand around Dick’s throat and slam him back into the bed. There’s blood on Dick’s teeth as he bares them in fury, choking on nothing as Slade’s grip tightens hard enough to cut off his air. Jason jerks, trying to use the distraction to pull away from Slade, but the pain isn’t enough to stop him twisting his fingers into Jason’s thick curls and yanking his head up. From this angle, Jason must be able to see Dick’s face and Dick his in turn. It gives Slade a little thrill to imagine the pain and horror the omega must see there.

The pain and the thrill are enough to send Slade over the edge. He slams into Jason one final time, grinding himself so deep that he imagines Jason can feel the bulge of his cock in his stomach. Groaning low and guttural in his throat. The urge to bite is like a siren’s call and Slade does nothing to resist it. Clamps his jaws over the already ragged skin of Jason’s neck, deep enough to know that this will scar. That his mark will be on Jason for the rest of his life.

Something tears, hot blood rushing over Slade’s cock in a sick imitation of an omega’s slick. Jason screams a piercing, jagged sound of agony that has Slade’s cock throbbing as his knot locks in place and the first gush of come spurts deep into the younger alpha.

Slade stays like that for a long time, holding Jason tight against him with one hand, keeping Dick pinned to the bed with the other. He doesn’t unlock his jaws until he’s sure that Dick is in danger of passing out if he doesn’t get air soon, savouring the thick blood on his tongue, the way Jason has gone utterly boneless despite the pain. Then he pulls back a little, freeing Jason’s flesh from the mercy of his bite, relinquishing his grip on Dick’s neck to a loose hold rather than a choke.

Dick gasps, dragging in a wet, ragged breath before letting it out in a sob. Slade lets his fingers rub idly over Dick’s glands, swollen and sensitive from his heat. The omega twitches under the attention, letting out another shaky sob before Slade slides his hand up to Dick’s curls, pushing them away from his sweat-soaked forehead.

“See,” Slade murmurs, his voice almost a purr. The throb of his orgasm sends languid waves of pleasure through his body with every spurt of his seed into Jason and it makes him a little indulgent. “You can be good. Can’t you sweetheart?”

Dick turns his face away from Slade’s hand, his expression tense. He tries to press himself against the bleeding wound of Jason’s neck, but Slade uses his grip on Dick’s hair to drag him back, holding him still whilst Slade presses their mouths together in a hard kiss. Dick could bite, but he won’t. Not whilst Slade is tied to his brother. Not knowing the damage he could do.

The kiss is salty with the tears streaming across Dick’s face. Wet and sloppy. Dick lies perfectly still underneath him, not resisting but not returning the kiss. That’s fine by Slade. He’s had his fun anyway.

Still, when they break apart, Slade uses his grip to turn Jason’s head towards him too. For a moment, he isn’t actually sure if the kid is conscious. His face is slack and so pale it’s almost white. But his eyelids flutter and when Slade licks into his mouth, he lets out a whimper that Slade might expect from a kicked dog.

“There,” Slade murmurs. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? You took me like a good little whore, didn’t you?”

Jason doesn’t reply. Most likely, he’s disappeared into that pretty little head of his, overwhelmed by the pain and the shock of everything. Slade doesn’t care about that particularly, either. Like he said, he’s had his fun.

Dick does react, letting loose a weak little growl. Slade just pets through his curls. He doesn’t stop him when Dick turns his head away from Slade’s heavy gaze again. This time, the omega noses up under his brother’s jaw without Slade’s interference.

“It’s OK Jason,” he murmurs, as if he expects Slade not to hear. He presses a soft kiss to the curve of Jason’s jaw, his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth. “It’ll be OK. He’ll be gone soon. We’ll be just fine.”

When Jason doesn’t react to Dick either, the omega lets out a distressed whine. Slade chuckles. Feels Dick stiffen at the sound.

“That’s sweet kid.” Another wave of orgasm swells and crashes and Slade gives a contented moan. That’s the last one though, Slade thinks. He can feel his knot starting to soften. Dick’s face tenses with disgust. Funny, Slade hadn’t thought it was possible for the kid to look more constipated.

“Well that was fun.”

He gives Dick’s curls one last friendly stroke. Rubs his cheek over Jason’s in a final scenting, enjoying the idea of leaving his mark on the kid, before he pulls away. His knot is still big enough to resist as Slade tugs it free and it hurts a little, but Slade is done with this now. He’s never been one to soak in the afterglow. It must hurt Jason too, because he twitches and whimpers and Dick croons in a shaky attempt to soothe him.

“I’ll take what I came for,” Slade says, casually, as he tucks himself back into his armour. There’s blood still streaked across his cock, but Slade’s never minded getting his armour a little bloody.

Dick glares as Slade saunters across the room, sliding open one of the desk drawers and retrieving the little flash drive taped up underneath it with nimble fingers. Bats - so predictable.

“I’ll be taking this. Enjoy the rest of your heat, Grayson.”

Dick’s voice is small and shaky when he asks: “Aren’t you going to untie us?”

“You’re Bats aren’t you?” Slade asks, one leg already out of the window. The fresh air outside is doing wonders to clear his head. He hadn’t realised quite how thick the scent in the room had gotten. “You’ll be fine.”

Dick’s growl follows him out.

#sladerobinweekend2020 #sladerobinweek #Day 3: Omegaverse #dc #Batman #Slade Wilson #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #sladerobin #sladejason #fanfiction #my writing #violence tw #rape tw #blood tw #Please check the warnings guys #Jason Rare Pair Challenge

[aridinosnore]

Erase My Regrets

holy shit the second chapter already!! i have so much time on my hands so i use it to write i guess, during the week i probably won’t post chapters frequently. school sucks. anyway, this chapter might suck because i kept procrastinating. enjoy anyway!

part one here

Jason Dean. Who was he? Veronica stared at the name written on the piece of paper that seemed the be wrinkled on the edges. She could’ve sworn there were tear marks. There were dots scattered around the paper where the color of the paper had faded from the tears hitting the paper. What was so special about this Jason Dean?

The young woman sat at her desk, her chocolate hues staring out the window and blinding herself with the bright sunlight shining through. IT was a beautiful day and Martha invited her over to go out and shop, possibly head over to the park and grab some lunch. She agreed to do so.

Veronica had turned down Harvard, Duke, and even Brown. She felt that it was best to go to a community college somewhere close to Sherwood. After everything she’d been through, she felt that maybe she didn’t deserve to go to a superior university.

They were accidents for fucks sake. She didn’t mean to give the cup to her best friend yet worst enemy, she didn’t know they were real bullets, she didn’t want to watch him blow up. Veronica curled up at night even ten years later from those accidents, shrinking in on herself and cursing her thoughts. If all that bullshit hadn’t happened, would she be happy?

Oh Martha. Veronica to this day still felt guilty for her wrongdoings towards Martha, her best friend since diapers. How would she do something like that? Veronica had craved to be like the Heathers yet to only kill the supreme leader. Although, she had forgiven Heather McNamara. The sweetheart stuck with Veronica during her rough times and Martha had soon come to love the Heather. They seemed to be the best of friends and Veronica, Heather, and Martha always tuned into the Princess Bride on Friday nights. Heather was busy today and Veronica couldn’t blame her. They were adults now. They grew up. Veronica’s regrets grew with her.

Her eyes looked down to the dozens of papers scattered on her desk. She tried her best to listen to her counselor who still believed that Veronica was merely affected by the ‘suicides’ and death of her boyfriend.

“You like to write poems right? Maybe writing down your thoughts and feelings will help.” Veronica’s counselor had told her. She must’ve thought it was silly how Veronica needed help even after ten years. Ten years. She tried to write poems but always turned to her diary. The poems reminded her too much of the ‘baudelaire-quoting-bad-ass’.

Instead, Veronica picked up her pen and slid one of the pieces of paper closer. She sighed and wrote the first few letters that she had written in weeks.

“September 1st, 1989”

The past three weeks were amazing for Veronica. The Heathers took her shopping but many snarky comments about Veronica’s wardrobe were thrown around. They had came over to Veronica’s house and threw out anything that “looked like an 80 year old woman’s clothing”, Heather Chandler’s words. Now her drawers and closet were filled with short skirts, revealing dresses, blouses, and blazers. At least they were some shade of blue.

She had nearly forgotten about the letter she was sent on the first day of school. It was when she was digging through her desk’s drawers and the crumpled envelope caught her eye. Veronica pulled out the first paper in the envelope and read the date.

“September 22nd, 1989”

“Oh yeah, it skipped the past three weeks,” Veronica said to herself as she read on. What would happen today? The sense of familiarity washed over Veronica as she read the first bullet point.

Today is the day Jason Dean walked into my life.

Veronica bit her lip and glanced at the other bullet points. He must be important if she had to point the fact out in her letter.

The Heathers ask you to forge a note from Ram Sweeney. It’s for Martha.

I let them give the note to Martha out of pressure. I was against the idea but Duke snatched it out of my hands.

She furrowed her eyebrows. Shit, she would forge a note in Ran’s handwriting? Martha has been crushing on the dickhead ever since kindergarten. Martha and Veronica weren’t exactly the closest of friends anymore due to Veronica joining the Heathers but she wouldn’t want to hurt Martha. It would crush her if she found out it wasn’t from Ram himself.

I want you to instantly tell Martha that it isn’t from Ram politely. If she feels bad about it, be there for her. One of my biggest regrets is hurting her, Veronica. Please. It will cause a lot less damage than what happened if I hadn’t told her.

The thing with these letters that bugged Veronica was the longing and curiosity of what would happen if she didn’t follow these requests. Her life probably would have gone the way it was supposed to. “No, you have to erase your future selves regrets,” Veronica reminded herself as she clutched the letter in her hands.

You’ll meet Jason Dean after this happens. You’ll also be going to Ram Sweeney’s homecoming party with the Heathers. I don’t regret going. Go and have fun.

You’re no longer a virgin.

Her eyes widened at the last bullet point. Holy shit, Veronica had never really thought of sex. Well, she had. Heather Chandler told her to consider it now that she was apart of the group that most horny high schoolers looked up to and fantasized about. Hell, her mother even suggested to have Veronica on the pill. She reluctantly allowed it just in case. The letter didn’t specify who she’d lose her v-card to, great.

It was a bit exciting to know, if she had to be honest. To be a part of the Heathers you should have fun and go wild at parties right? Hitting third base just might be the best thing she’ll ever experience. And it was.

At lunch, Heather Chandler requested— no, demanded Veronica to forge a note to Martha in Ram’s handwriting. Veronica went along with this, the note said nothing about not forging the note. She was told to talk to Martha after giving the note. Veronica let things play out, instinctively getting defensive and very much intimidated as Heather Chandler threatened her.

“I let you into this candy store, you can’t just run out with all the goods in your hand can you?” Heather had asked her with a scoff and death glare. All that was set on Veronica’s mind was to follow the letters words.

The Heathers were preoccupied with Kurt and Ram. Veronica saw this as her chance to tell Martha about the stupid letter and how it was forged. Martha was a forgiving person, even present day Veronica knew this. In third grade, Veronica had broken one of Martha’s favorite unicorn toys which had Martha cry for hours. After all the tears, Martha still forgave Veronica. Roni could only hope it was the same case in senior year. She was little ways down the hall until a voice spoke to her.

“Why’d you bow down to those swatch dogs and diet coke heads? They’ll crush that poor girl,” an almost bored tone was evident in the person’s voice. Veronica stopped reluctantly as she watched Martha enthusiastically bounce down the hall. She turned her head and her eyes caught the dark brown hues of a teenage boy leaning against the wall.

She blinked and cleared her throat, glancing back at Martha who was now merely a figure in the distance and back to the male. “That’s what I’m trying to fix right now,” Veronica huffed out as she crossed her arms.

“Ah, so you have a soul. Just gotta work on keeping it pure,” he said with a smug smirk as he pushed himself off the wall. Now standing up straight, Veronica noticed the great height difference between them. She was merely five foot three, he had to be at least six feet. “‘We are all born marked for evil,’” the man said as he ‘booped’ Veronica’s nose softly. He began to walk away from the teenage girl until Veronica spoke, clearly smitten.

“Excuse me— don’t just quote Baudelaire then walk away. I uh… didn’t catch your name,” Veronica said as she cracked a small smile towards the male.

“I didn’t throw it,” he returned the smile but his seemed to have the ‘bad boy smugness’ behind it. Veronica’s mouth went agape as she blushed to herself, the teenage boy now walking away from her as she was clearly swooning over him.

“Oh shit, Martha!” Veronica reminded herself and she scurried down the hall to find the girl clad in the familiar pink unicorn sweater. She finally spotted Martha sitting outside of the school on the bench, the letter in her hands and a huge grin plastered on her face. It almost made Veronica stop in her tracks and debate with herself if this was what she should truly do. Martha was happy. Then she remembered what the letter had said, it was better than what Martha would experience if Veronica hadn’t done anything. Veronica walked over to the teenage girl on the bench, a smile formed by the curl of her lips.

“Hey Martha,” she said softly as she sat beside her on the bench. Martha turned her head away from the piece of paper and an expression of giddiness was clear on her features.

“Oh hi Veronica. You truly are looking beautiful these days,” she commented and gestured to Veronica’s outfit. Veronica gave her a nod and laughed lightly.

“Same me, I swear. Uhm, could we talk?” Veronica asked timidly as she scratched the back of her ear. She wondered how to put her words together and most definitely how Martha would react.

“Sure, what about?”

“Ah, about that.” She gestured towards the paper in Martha’s hands. Veronica took a deep breath and delicately took Martha’s hand. “That note… wasn’t written by Ram. I forged it. The Heathers wanted me to but I didn’t want to give it to you. They had me writing it before they told me it was for you. I’m sorry, Martha. It’s better than going to the party when you weren’t really invited right?” Veronica flinched at her own words. They had came out politely and softly but it still had a sense of rudeness. She watched as Martha’s face fell and she looked down at the letter, her eyes scanning the handwriting.

“Oh. So… Ram didn’t write this? He doesn’t think about me?” Martha asked in a disappointed tone. Veronica instantly felt sorry for the emotions her words had inflicted. She straightened up and quickly shook her head.

“No no, Martha. He could still have the same feelings for you. It’s just that this letter— it wasn’t true. Please, I’m warning you. Don’t go to the homecoming party. I do not want them to hurt you, Martha.” Veronica pleaded and Martha sighed, a sad smile then formed on her face.

“Okay, I won’t,” she said with a small nod of her head. Veronica hugged her but it didn’t feel like the ones they shared before. This one seemed more distant.

“I promise I won’t miss out on next week’s movie night. I’ll find some way to come over,” Veronica reassured her friend but she couldn’t promise anything when it came to friends especially now that she was with the Heathers.

Martha was about to speak until the sounds of students yelling and cheering rang out from inside the school. It was that loud that you could hear from the courtyard outside of school. Martha and Veronica both looked over at the doors of their high school. They glanced at each other and nodded, both beginning to run over to the doors of the school and they pushed them open to find the teenage boy Veronica was talking to being harassed by Kurt and Ram.

Veronica pushed through the crowd and Martha stood by in the back of the crowd, not wanting to get involved. Although, she was worried about Ram even if he was a dickhead to most people. Martha saw the good in him.

Veronica somehow got through the crowd and was now in the front. She didn’t want to interfere but she knew it could get ugly with Kurt and Ram. Suddenly, the male in the big, old, black trench coat smacked Ram in the face with the dense book her had been reading. The ‘ooh’ed as this happened and the Heathers watched with wide eyes and mouths open agape as their regular boy toys began getting their ass kicked. As Veronica watched the Baudelaire-quoting-bad-ass teach the two jocks a lesson, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of respect and admiration. Her eyes couldn’t leave the man as he punched Ram straight in the face. Everybody seemed to be cheering and whooping but all Veronica could do was stare dumbfounded with a huge grin on her face. The brunette asked herself, would this boy fight for her? He seemed to capture her heart and sights by punching some jackass in the face which did not happen often. Veronica and the crowd of students watched as Ram felt to the floor in defeat and Kurt tried to take a swing at the trench coat kid. He failed miserably.

She watched in astonishment as the boy took Kurt’s head in his hands and bashed their heads together, no sign of pain on his face whatsoever but with Kurt it was a different story. Teachers and staff had come out to the scene and were trying to push through the crowd of teenagers to see what was going on. By the time the principal had gotten to the front, Kurt was on the floor, clearly in pain. “Holy shit!” The students had yelled out as the victorious winner stood up, running a hand through his hair. Veronica’s eyes followed him and watched as he was dragged away from the crowd. The principal did not seem happy at all.

Was this Jason Dean?

#jdonica #jdonica fanfiction #jason dean #veronica sawyer #jdronica #heathers #heathers the musical #heathers fanfiction #heathers au #its super hot in my room please kill me #i hope im not copying and pasting all this shit for nothing #this is also on my archive of our own account aight #aridinosnore fanfiction #erase my regrets fanfiction

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Mishaps in Raising a Baby: Chapter One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Mature Word Count: 1497 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Summary: Clark is gone on a business trip for four days which leaves Bruce alone to raise their son. Except it's not as easy to raise a baby with super powers as one might think. Warnings: N/A Author's Note: Part 7 in Sparks Series. This takes place right after Clark left for a business trip. You must read Bye-Bye first. This will be four chapters long with one chapter each day. Enjoy!

Chapter One:

Ko’s age: 1 year

Ten minutes after Clark has left for work, Bruce carries Ko into his office to allow him to play while he gets some work done. He sets the baby down amongst his toys and then heads to his desk, grabbing the files he needs to look over. He does this for about an hour without any trouble until Ko begins to make a small sobbing noise. Bruce looks up and sees Ko sitting there with some blocks stacked and tears dripping down his face. Bruce gets up immediately and goes to him, picking him up and cradling him to his chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong Ko?” Bruce asks, kissing the top of his baby’s head.

“Bye-bye,” Ko says in answer.

Bruce frowns. If only Ko knew more words than that. “Don’t worry, Ko, Papa will be home soon, okay?”

“Bye-bye.” Bruce sighs and holds the crying baby close. Clark has never been gone for days on end and so Ko doesn’t know how to cope. Though, if Bruce thinks about it, Ko shouldn’t even know Clark is going to be gone that long yet. But Ko has always been a smart baby, smarter than most at least.

Bruce sits down on the floor, setting Ko down as well. The baby sniffles, tears still rolling down his red, puffy cheeks. “Do you want Sophie the Giraffe?” Bruce reaches over and picks up the rubber giraffe, handing it to Ko. Ko takes it and begins gnawing on the leg immediately while simultaneously making small whimpering sounds. “Do you want to play with the farm animals? Daddy could use a break from work.” He grabs the farm set (something Clark said Ko had to have since Clark himself grew up on a farm) and opens the toy barn to reveal all the farm animals. He takes the cow and hands it to Ko who grabs it. He then takes the sheep for himself. “Do you know what sounds sheep make?” He waits for a few seconds, knowing Ko won’t answer. “Bah bah, goes the sheep.” Bruce walks the sheep over to the cow. “Well hello, Mister Cow, how are you today?” Ko swings the cow up and down, still making small noises with a giraffe hoof in his mouth. “And the cow goes, moo. It sure looks like Mister Cow is having a bad day today.” Bruce reaches up and wipes some of the tears away on Ko’s cheeks. “What’s wrong Mister Cow?”

Suddenly, Ko throws the Cow at the barn, knocking the thing over and causing the other animals to spill out. “Mye-mye,” Ko says around the toy in his mouth. “Mye-mye.” The crying coming from him intensifies until Ko drops the toy and wails.

Eyes wide, Bruce stands up and picks Ko up. “Okay, I think someone might need a nap.” He looks at the time. It’s still two hours before Ko’s usual nap time but maybe he didn’t get that much sleep last night. He begins carrying Ko to the nursery. “Are you tired?” he asks Ko, who has added squirming to his crying. When Bruce enters the nursery, and is just about to place him in the crib, Ko’s hand comes at his face angrily and smacks him in the nose. Bruce drops the baby out of shock and backs up a few paces, hands flying to his nose. Searing pain shoots through his face and his hands touch a wetness there. When he looks at them, they are red with blood.

His eyes snap to Ko who is floating in the air, crying his little heart out. Bruce watches the baby, face completely red and puffy cheeks soaking wet with tears. “Ko?” Bruce brings his hand up to his nose again, the pain throbbing. Ko pays him no attention. “Ko, get in your crib.” Still the baby ignores him. “Ko, it’s time for a nap.” He takes a step towards the baby hesitantly. “Sleepy time.” He reaches for Ko who then goes to slap him again, not wanting to be picked up. Bruce backs up once more hastily. “Ko, it’s not okay to hit,” Bruce says firmly. “Hitting hurts.” By now Bruce’s hand is soaked with blood and there’s some drops that have fallen to the floor. The carpet will be stained now but Bruce doesn’t want to leave Ko alone to take care of it. He’s been hit in the face and given a bloody nose plenty of times in his life and so he is perfectly capable of dealing with Ko first.

Ko finally looks at him and Bruce’s scolding. He gently lowers himself into the crib, lying down yet still crying. “Bye-bye,” Ko cries, sticking a hand in his mouth.

Bruce approaches the crib apprehensively. “Papa will be home in a few days, Ko, I promise. I know you miss him but you don’t hit. Hitting is bad and hurts.”

Ko sucks on his hand as his crying finally slows, hiccups coming out every few seconds. He reaches up to Bruce, most likely wanting to hug him, but all Bruce can do is reach down with the hand not pressed to his nose and rub some of the tears away on Ko’s cheeks. “Nappy time.” Ko blinks at him a few times before his eyes slowly close. Bruce stays there until Ko falls asleep.

He immediately goes to his room and to his bathroom, taking a wad of tissues with him. Bruce presses the tissues to his nose and pulls out his cellphone. It rings three times before the call is answered. “Bruce? Is everything okay?”

“Ko hit me.”

“Again? Isn’t this the third time in two months?” Clark pauses. “Why do you sound so weird?”

“Because Clark, this time he decided to hit me with super strength. I’m pretty sure he broke my fucking nose.”

Bruce hears some shuffling and Clark telling Lois that he’ll be right back. “Where is he now?”

“Fuck, hang on. I’m bleeding all over the damn place.” Bruce sets his cellphone down and gets some more tissues, flushing the soiled ones down the toilet. He picks the cellphone up again. “He’s in his crib. I put him down for a nap.”

“Okay, I’m going to come home.”

“How? You going tell Lois that you need to go home because your baby just broke Daddy’s nose?” He sighs. “Look, Clark it’s fine. You just stay there. I can handle it here but I just wanted you to know what happened so when you come home and I’m sporting a black and blue, you aren’t concerned.”

“Not concerned? Bruce, our son just broke your nose.”

“Jason’s done that too.”

“It’s not the same and you know it. Bruce, this is really concerning.”

Bruce sighs again, taking the tissue away from his nose to inspect it. The bleeding has finally slowed down but his nose is swollen to three times its regular size and is already starting to turn purple. “I know, trust me, I know. I suppose I should count myself lucky that I’ve had my nose broken many times before though. I’m used to how much it hurts and what to do about it. I still need to get Alfred to set it.”

“You should probably do that soon and put some ice on it.”

“I will. Clark, I’m being serious about you not coming home.” He hears Clark sigh in annoyance. “You said it yourself, Perry wouldn’t let you off of this article. It must be important then.”

“But Lois can handle it herself,” Clark says.

“I know but it’s your job too and you love your job. We’ll deal with this when you get home in three days. Look, if anything else happens, I’ll call you. Promise.”

Clark hesitates before saying, “Okay.”

“One good thing did come out of this though.”

“Which is?”

Bruce smiles. “We now know Ko misses you.”

“Why do you say that?” Clark questions.

“Because he was saying bye-bye the whole time. He must have associated that with you and that was his way of telling me.”

“Okay but I haven’t even been gone long. He shouldn’t even know that I’m going to be gone for four days,” Clark says.

Bruce touches his nose and winces. “He’s a smart baby, Clark. He does have mine and your intelligence in him. That is if our doppelgangers were as smart as we are.”

“My doppelganger was an abusive jerk. I doubt he was very smart.”

Bruce chuckles then pauses. He says, “I miss you too.”

He hears Clark huff a small laugh. “I miss you as well. I’ll still call to say goodnight too.”

“Okay.” Bruce looks at his watch. “I’ll let you know if anything happens between now and then.”

“If something else happens, I’m coming straight home, you understand?”

“Got it. I’ll talk to you later Clark.”

“Talk to you later. I love you.”

Bruce smiles fondly at his husband telling him that he loves him. “I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

A/N: Thanks for reading!

#DC Comics #SuperBat #Superman #Batman #Clark Kent #Kal El #Bruce Wayne #Sparks Series #Mishaps in Raising a Baby #My Fanfiction #sfw