My pronouns are she/they/it (I mostly use she) ,I'm 23,english isn't my first language and I just post whatever I feel like ; mostly random thoughts or silly brain worms of mine. I'm not a writer though so I may not be very articulate.
MDNI โผ๏ธ I don't know if I'll ever post anything NSFW but in general being my age I don't tend to want minors interacting with me, not that I have anything against people under 18. However I might reblog something NSFW so just in case.
Idk what else to write here so yeah, just general information.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
Wei Wuxian/Wei Ying (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation)
Starscream (Transformers)
Voting ended onJun 3
PROPAGANDA:
[Wei Wuxian]
"Heโs such a sweetheart. He wants a baby. He found a child and said he birthed him himself. His husband helped take care of that child after our contestantโs death. So, he should get pregnant so they can have more children."
"He wants it soooo badly. Let him and his husband have a baby!! Give their A-Yuan a little sibling!! Or better yet, a whoooole litter of little Lans!!!"
"He literally has a kink of being bred by his hot husband, joked multiple times about birthing his and husband's adopted son, the world has magic BS in it. Case closed."
"He wants it."
"He loves kids, why not give him some more? Lan Zhan wants to baby trap him to High Heaven and drag him back to Gusu at any point in the story. Give him the happy family with lots of kids he has always craved for as an orphan."
"Danmei fans will remember how hard we fought for this extremely breedable man in Season 1. Please, friends, let me bend your ear about this man who canonically has a breeding kink (among many others)!
Wei Ying (courtesy name: Wei Wuxian) is hot shit. He knows he is, he's been canonically ranked as one of the most eligible men in the Jianghu. His love interest has been wanting to fuck him since the moment they met (sparring on the rooftops at 15 years old because WWX was trying to sneak liquor into their dry campus). I, too, have been trying to tap this goth hottie, but so far this man has remained fictional. ๐ซค
If "adopted-into-nobility twunks with big egos and class clown tendencies" aren't your thing, may I interest you in his alter-ego, "war hero necromancer who has experienced The Horrors and briefly delves into cannibalism"? What about "resurrected as a mentally ill twink and 'pretends' to be gay as a cover"? There's also a brief interlude of "cave-dwelling cottage-core baby-raising fugitive" in which he plants a toddler in the ground adorably, calls him a radish, and says he wants to give him many siblings. He also canonically notes that he wants a little one with his husband at the end of the novel. This is after they separately adopt the same child (that's a long story, you should read MDZS if you haven't already!!)
Please help Wei Ying get knocked up. I know this man could invent a male pregnancy talisman. He pulled his friend back from the dead and turned him into conscious corpse, I know he can find a way to build his own womb. Do it for Lan Zhan, who desperately wants to put a baby in this man. They fuck literally every day, statistically this man should get pregnant eventually. Do it so Jiang Cheng will need to hear his stupid brother complain about morning sickness and back pain and roll his eyes. Do it for all the MDZS fans who never got an extra with Wei Ying waddling around pregnant but need to see it. Fill the Jingshi with baby Lans, I know we can do it!!"
"JUST LOOK AT HIM! HE'S omega coded to his core, literally talks about birthing his son from his own body. Give him another baby!!"
"Look biologically he canโt get pregnant but I donโt think that would ever stop him from trying. If sheer force of will could knock him up heโd have a whole baseball team of kids."
"as we know, he already gave birth to Sizhui, but you canโt tell me he and Lan Wangji donโt wantโdeserveโan entire flock of little Lans."
"This boy stated he gave birth. He needs to provide Lan Zhan with more babies and Lan Zhan would be more than happy to breed this boy."
"This man has already proven that he can make it as a struggling mother, he deserves to be pampered for it this time. He absolutely would love to have another child and Lan Zhan would love to give him one. Wei Wuxian would be showered in luxuries and spoiled even more than he already is. They deserve this!"
"This man canonically tells his love interest he birthed the child hanging onto his leg. He wants to bear Lan Wangjiโs children for him and has a massive breeding kink. Letโs let him finally win and get him pregnant."
Wei Wuxian propaganda from last season
[Starscream]
"He would be STRUTTING with it. He's gonna raise an ARMY of LOYAL UNDERLINGS and they're going to make him RULER OF THE UNIVERSE. also he would be fucking miserable and so so angry and i think that would be fun."
"I need need need my conniving flying bastard man to be pregnant, he'd be so insufferable about it. Can you imagine? TFP Starscream would use his pregnancy as a way to manipulate the autobots and pretend to "care so much about my precious baby" and then he'd stab everyone in the back. G1 Starscream would have a bunch of grand dreams of shaping his baby into the ultimate Megatron-killing weapon and then they rule the galaxy together."
"I need to see him manipulate someone into getting him pregnant only to abort it in an attempt to hurt them only to have no effect at all. I need this."
"Heโs funny and endlessly miserable in most continuities and I think being pregnant would make him happy even if he complained about it at the time."
"LISTENโฆโฆ. It would be funny as shit if all the time he tried to usurp Megatron he succeeded in the one thing he didnโt want and lost so disgracefully. And in some media interpretations having โkidsโ or pets mellows that fucked up prideful and very much traumatized abused but unwilling to admit it and look for help man."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
Warnings: Major Character Death, Resurrection, Came Back Wrong, Reader has she/her pronouns
Summary:
She'll hate you, Bruce wanted to say.
Because Jason did.
She wouldn't want anything to do with you, Bruce wanted to say.
Because Jason didn't.
You're going to spend the rest of your life knowing that, given the chance, you would do it all over again.
Years after Bruce used the Lazarus Pit to resurrect him, Jason realizes that he's willing to commit the same sins his father did.
Bruce Wayne was only thirty-one years old when Jason first said that he hated him.ย
He said it quietly, with teeth, which was how Bruce knew that Jason meant it.
His son hated him.ย
He should be hurt. Heย should.
He should feel like a knife has been slid neatly into one's guts; pulled out with a decisive sort of viciousness. He should feel like his insides were strewn across the dining room tiles.ย
But instead, Bruce took a deep breath and gazed into his son's face.
Green eyes,ย he thought. Not blue. Looking at Jason no longer looked like looking at the sky.ย
"I know," he said.
He did. He wishes he didn't, but he did.
He wishes that heย wouldย feel the hurt, but at the same time, he only felt a strange sort of relief: his son could still feel anger, could still feel hate.
This was not another thing that Bruce had taken away from him.
Jason stared at him, his features tight. There were new lines on his face, now, right where his eyebrows knotted whenever he was angry. Odd, for one so young. Perhaps because he frowned so much, these days.
Or perhaps they were scars, ones that even the Lazarus Pit couldn't get rid of.ย
Bruce wouldn't know. When he had finally found Jason that night, his face had been a bloody ruin. Bruce had been unable to tell the fresh wounds from the scars.
When Bruce didn't reply, Jason tried a new tactic.ย
"I can't taste food anymore, did you know that?" he snarled.ย
Bruce didn't know this. But he suspected something like it.
It was the reason he invited him here, after all.
He knew that Jason had been eating less and less. His apartment had been filled with the styrofoam shells of endless takeouts. Only the barest spoonful scooped out from them, then the rest was left to rot.ย
Bruce's gaze traveled to the feast that lay between him and his son. He had used one of the dining room tables, the kind that would usually seat at least a dozen guests.ย
But tonight, it was only the two of them.ย
And yet, the wood practically groaned from the weight of the food it bore. Alfred had outdone himself, the dishes astounding in both quantity and quality. Strong black tea, the pot upturned and left to stain the tablecloth. Steak so rare that it was almost bloody, left to congeal on the table.ย
Fruits imported from Southeast Asia, carefully peeled and sliced into small pieces for easier consumption.ย
Bruce could see the remains of them on Jason's plate, where he had bitten into them, hopeful, only to then spit them out in disgust.ย
"No," Bruce admitted. "I didn't."ย
Jason analyzed him for a few seconds, then decided he wasn't lying.ย
He snorted.
"Well, I can't. And you know what the worst part is?"
"What?"
Jason swept his plate off the table, where it shattered against the tiles. Half-chewed bits of meat strewn across the floor like insides.ย
"I'm still so fuckingย hungry."ย
He was thirty-three years old when he first saw Jason smile again.ย
It had been entirely on accident, on a sunny day.
A rare thing for Gotham City. When the sky was such an aching blue that it would have been a crime not to go out and enjoy it.ย
The thought crossed his mind, the way it always did whenever the sun came out: he would see more days like these in Metropolis. Or perhaps Star City. Or even somewhere far away like Santa Prisca. Where the heat would chase away the cold that seemed to have made a home in his bones.
The thought crossed his mind: he did not want to be doing this forever.
Bruce chose a small cafe in Old Gotham. It had been tucked away behind a twisting alleyway, all dark wood that should warped in the constant rain but somehow didn't. He had seen it months ago while on patrol, and something about it had made him want to step inside.ย
On that day, all Bruce had wanted was to sit somewhere warm, somewhere far away from the roar of car engines and the babble of the crowd, and the constant rumbling of his own dark thoughts.ย
Here was what he got instead.
On that day, on one of those rare warm days in Gotham City, Bruce Wayne got to see his son smile again.ย
Jason had been sitting in one of the corner booths, near a window where the light streamed through.
It was a strange realization, that after the warehouse, Bruce had only ever seen his son in shadows. In the darkest corner of the room, his face turned away as if he couldn't stand to meet Bruce's eyes.ย
Always, after the warehouse, his son seemed to hide from him.
And the sight of him, sitting in sunlight stunned Bruce so much that it took him a secon to realize that Jason wasn't alone.ย
You were there.
And Jason's attention was so focused on you that he didn't even notice Bruce. He laughed at something, perhaps a joke you made, and it was an odd and wondrous thing, to hear him laugh without sharp edges or hurt.ย
He was eating, too. Taking small bites of a croissant as if it didn't taste like sawdust in his mouth. Taking small sips from your cup across the table, as if it didn't taste like rusted metal.
It took his son a second or three to realize that he was being watched.
Too long,ย Bruce would have said, scolded even. Time was the difference between life and death on the field.ย
But this wasn't the field.ย
And perhaps, like Bruce, Jason did not want to do this forever.
He glanced at Bruce, he met his eyes.
The Lazarus Pit had changed them. No longer as blue as the sky, they were now the same swirling green as those strange waters.ย
But this time, looking at them did not make Bruce think of that cursed pit or emeralds taken from illegal mines or bits of broken glass.
This time, looking at Jason made him think of grass, of trees in spring, it made him think of the forest after a storm, when everything had been washed clean and turned new.ย
Jason didn't frown or scowl, the way Bruce expected. Instead, he goes back to looking at you.
And for just a second, his son looked almost happy.
He was forty-one years old when he received the message, three days after your funeral.ย
I need to talk to you.ย
It was brief, concise, and came from an unknown number. But there was no mistaking who it could be from.
It was a cruel sort of joke, he thought. The kind only Gotham City laughed at. A drive-by. The kind of thing that happened all the time in Gotham. All for the five dollars in the cashier till.ย
Better an illness,ย he thought. Predictable and drawn out and long enough that it would allow the reality of it to sink into one's bones.
But this?ย
The sudden, random viciousness of it. To watch the building blocks of your life come crashing down. All in the space of a day, an hour, a single blinding second.ย
Yes, Bruce knew where the message came from.
He stared at it for a few seconds longer.
Then, he deleted it.ย
He was thirty-two years old when he realized that Jason no longer had the scars.
It was a bad night, a mission gone wrong. Just another in a string of bad luck that seemed to have no end. Bruce was so used to the sight of his own blood that it barely even fazed him anymore.
But his son's blood?
The color of it never failed to make his skin crawl.
Bruce's stomach twisted painfully.ย
A part of him wondered if there was a hell and if there was, what layer he would end up in, for recruiting his sons into his mission.
A part of him wondered if he would do it all over again.
The thought rose in the back of his head, like dead things washed up on the shore: he would. He would.
He thought of Dante and how the deepest circle had always been reserved for betrayers.
Jason's voice came as if from far away, sharp and irritated and far too deep for someone his age.
He had only been fifteen when he died.
"I'm fine." He was saying. "Go see to Bruce first."ย
It was this that roused Bruce from his stupor, blinking away images of sheep and abattoirs.ย
"No, you're not."ย
He tried to inject some authority in his voice, swallowed back the exhaustion that was rising in his throat.
"I saw Killer Croc take a bite off you. Let Alfred see it."
He didn'tย justย see Killer Croc snap at Jason. He had seen the gush of blood, he had seen gristle and exposed bone.
He had seen the explosion, so bright that it burned even when he closed his eyes. He had seen Jason's face so mangled, the flesh so burned that the blackened bones shone through.
Oh God, his son, his son, his son.
"Seriously, Dick, I'm fine. Stop hovering."
Jason shoved Dick off and ripped off his gloves.ย
And Bruce watched in horrified fascination at the way Jason's flesh was knitting itself closed. The bones snapping into position, the muscle renewed, the skin the boiled-pink color of a newborn.ย
"Do you see what I mean?" he snarled. "Go tend to Bruce first."
Not even a scar,ย he thought.ย
And Bruce thought about what a horror that was in itself, to realize that your own history is erased from your skin. He thought of his own scar, the one in his spine where Bane had shattered it. The cut on his lip. The burn scars on his hands, his arms, when he had held the mangled remains of his son.
It was its own kind of horror. To be denied your own history.
And for the first time since he made his decision, Bruce realizes that a part of him is sorry.
When Jason looked at him, Bruce's eyes skittered away from his like frightened spiders.
He was forty-one years old when he got the call.
"It's her. She's hurt, she's not breathing."
Bruce thought of the alleyway and that awful, ugly sound his father made as he drowned in his own blood, eyes spinning madly in their sockets.ย
His mother had died almost instantly.
When he spoke, his voice was that of a little boy's.
"Where are you?"
"The flower shop. There's been a shooting. Iโ"
Jason's voice cracked, and for just a second, Bruce could almost hear what he would have sounded like as a child. He had been a teenager when he and Bruce met. By then, he already knew not to ask for help.ย
"Bruce, I need you."ย
And Bruce wondered then, for just a second, if he was cursed to always be too late to save the ones he loved.ย
And yet he would try.
God, help him, he would try.
He would arrive only just in time to pronounce you dead, to see your blood spilled on the floor in a way that made him think of abattoirs.
He would arrive just in time to peel his son's hands from you and let Jason cling to him as if he was drowning.
He would arrive only just in time to say this:ย
"She's gone."ย
And the sound Jason made brought him back to the warehouse, cradling the blackened husk used to be his son.
ย He was still forty-one years old and yet, somehow, infinitely older when he came back to the mansion to find that his sins have finally followed him home.
Jason was waiting for him.ย
"I'm not asking this time, Bruce. Tell me where it is."ย
He swallowed back exhaustion and despair. Images of the pit came clawing up his throat, and he had to swallow them down lest he start screaming.ย
"You shouldn't."
Jason snorted.ย
"You shouldn't have, either. But here we are."ย
Bruce sat down across his son, and more than ever, he felt the yawning chasm between them. There were so many things he wanted to say too talk him out of his plan.ย
She'll hate you, Bruce wanted to say.
Because Jason did.
She wouldn't want anything to do with you,ย Bruce wanted to say.
Because Jason didn't.
He looked across his son, and with a jolt, realized that Jason was the same age Bruce had been when he had used the Lazarus Pit.ย
Ten years.ย
The Lazarus Pit had given them ten more years. And only God knew how many more.
Years in which his son fought him, avoided him, hated him.ย
Staring at his son, here was what Bruce truly wanted to say:ย You're going to spend the rest of your life knowing that, given the chance, you would do it all over again.
Here was what Bruce wanted to tell Jason: It was an ugly business, exhuming a body. It was an even uglier business, exhuming a loved one. Jason would not want to be there when the mortician's work has come undone. When the putrefaction has set in and he would be able to smell the stink barely three feet down.
Jason would not want to be there, when the gums retracted and the lips peeled back, so that when he opened your coffin, you would smile back at him like a ghoul.
Here was what Bruce wanted to tell Jason: when he opened grave, his eyes had been boiling with maggots. And the broken sound that came out of his mouth could have been laughter, it could have been sob.
His son. Food for the maggots.
It was what had given him that final push. The thing that strengthened his resolve. For all of his faults, Bruce couldn't leave his son, alone in the dirt. Cold and frightened and eaten by maggots.
But he had always been a coward.
And so, he said nothing at all.ย
And still, Jason nodded as if he understood.ย
Bruce was thirty-years old when he first used the Lazarus Pit.
It was underneath the Monarch Theatre, where the fumes would rise and soak into the wooden floors of the stage. For years, it had been a mystery why the actors of Monarch Theatre went insane. Why they would act out fights scenes with actual swords, why the crowd would cheer whenever someone's oily guts would spill tonto the floor.ย
Here was the answer: the strange, unspeakable pit that soaked the foundations of the building.ย
It had taken hours for Bruce to find the entrance. Hours carrying his dead son in his arms, covered in the stench of death and rot and his own sour sweat.
Hours in which he could have changed his mind.ย
He didn't.ย
And when Jason came to life, he did so screaming, the raw, bloodcurdling one of an animal.
For years after that, Bruce would wonder what sort of peaceful rest he ripped his son away from, for him to scream as if he was being murdered all over again.ย
He had torn apart the shroud with his hands, and when Bruce reached for him, he had torn at him too, nails carving bloody ribbons into his arms.ย
And when he held him, the way he used to whenever Jason would wake from nightmares, his son tried to tear out his throat with his teeth.ย
He was forty-two years old when he next stood at the Pit again.ย
His arms ached, and he was covered in the familiar stench of death and rot and his own sour sweat.
The waters of the Lazarus Pit bubbled eerily at his feet, and the fumes that rose from it made him think of sheepand abattoirs.
She would hate you,ย Bruce had wanted to say.
He knelt at the edge of the pool, and he was so close that he could feel the heat rising from it. It was an animal sort of heat, the kind he associated with frothing, heaving horses, of pigs trapped in small cages to never know fresh air their whole lives.ย
She would spend years fighting you.ย
He unravelled the shroud. Underneath, you were naked, and he could see the blackened hole where the bullet had torn through you and stolen your life.ย
She will try to tear your throat out with his teeth.ย
He had always arrived too late to save the ones he loved.
But at least, let him save his son from this.ย
He let you go.
And he watched as the Lazarus Pit swallowed you whole.ย
"I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species and have the same defects. This being you must create." Frankenstein chapter 16
Rough sex with AK!Jay and breaking some furniture in their shared apartment ๐ซฃ๐คญ
ANON BSNSHSJHSJSN
- First of all maybe it got rough in the heat of the moment.
-You just looked so pretty, he couldn't help himself. Wanted to make a mess of you ๐ซ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ฉ๐ฆ'๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ช๐ต.
- He saw you talk to another man, most probably. He's jealous. That's one of the other reasons it could have gotten rough.
- Leaves hickies on ur neck just so you can be seen around with his marks on you. God forbid you hide them.
- I'd also liken it to cuteness aggression?ยฟ
"You're so cute squeezing on my cock like this,FUCK!"
And he pounds harder. He just thinks you're the most beautiful creature in existence.
You know you should really stop pulling stunts like this, looking that cute. Should have thought twice about wearing that bunny costume for him. Or not. Probably not, with the way he has you bouncing on his lap without a break.
Your cute ears keep slipping off of your head and he promptly readjusts them with his free hand, the one that's not gripping on your hips and helping you hop up and down like the cute bunny rabbit you're being for him.
Jason caught you just as you'd put it on after he came back from patrol. All pent up with adrenaline and frustrated from how the night went. He didn't even take his gear off. Didn't even bother to go to the bed or sit down on the couch. He just pulled the nearest chair and sat down on it, patting down on his lap for you.
"C'mere."
Oh boy.
You're staring at his blank, red visor as you go hop hop hop on the big bad Red Hood's lap. You bet his eyes are rolling back under there, you bet he's salivating at just how you look.
"Who's my cute little bun? Hm? Were you waiting for me just to tease me sweetheart? Bad bunny."
You can't help but nod, your brain way too scrambled. You mumble 'yes' when he asks that. So high on the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls in such a blissful way.
"Why are you so tight,hm? Bet you love it when you dress like this for me. You love it dont you. Don't be shy sweetie."
With a fucked out smile you reply
"Love it, love it so much Jay! Always wanna look pretty for you!"
Shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have looked so good when you said it either, or squeezed down on his cock like a vice.
Jason picks you up off of him and manhandles you so that your front is pressed on the back of the chair and your ass is sticking out for him. God be damned, he can't help but give it a little swat when it's presented to him so crudely.
He doesn't hesitate to plunge back into you, the chair creaking as he fucks into you fast; one hand holding the chair so that you don't get toppled over and one on your chin to force your pretty face to look back at him.
His static moans, your own and the chair loudly creaking fill the room with noise. He's going at your poor hole so mercilessly, something that's not usual for him at all.
"Going round the apartment looking so fucking sexy, you think I wouldn't resist you bun? Huh? Look at your cute ass bouncing on me."
His eyes dart from your own to that little faux bunny tail at the back of your costume, how it rocks with his thrusts and the movement of your flesh.
You're reduced to a babbling mess,holding onto the chair for dear life. And the chair ain't sounding too good, making too much noise.
The poor chair needs therapy after this, because of how it cracked.
You let out a surprise yelp because for one second you thought you'd fall flat on your face.
Not with Jason there you won't.
He grabbed you before the poor wooden seat fell down, wrapping his arms tight around your torso.
He's a man possessed tonight, hasn't stopped thrusting into you for a second. He keeps fucking you while you're suspended in the air, legs dangling.
"You know I'd never let you fall."
He wishes he didn't have his stupid helmet on, he would have kissed your forehead reassuringly.
The table is the next victim to your marathon fucking session. He lays you down gently before going to town again. This time he affords himself the luxery of taking his helmet off. If he can't kiss you he'll lose his shit.
He makes sure to hold both your hands down with his own, fingers interlocking as he tongue fucks your mouth while ruining your hole simultaneously.
You let out a string of curses, it's the damn kisses that put the lid over the pot for you. The tender, romantic gesture of kissing while having mind shattering sex with the love of your life that makes you clench around him and see stars.
The bastard has a cocky smirk on his face as he watches you come undone.
Your face looks like the visage of beauty to him, with its flushed hue and hair sticking to it. In his eyes you're glowing.
"I'm close too, cmon, be a good bunny. Cum on my cock.You deserve to cum so many times just for this cute get up sweetheart."
He drowns out your moans with a sloppy kiss,which makes your climax harder.And when you do cum;
"Yeahh, that's right,fuck,you're gonna ruin me sweetie."
After a few thrusts he cums too. The sensation of your insides and that look on your face really did ruin him.
Jason groans as he pulls his wet cock out of your hole. He painted your front with thick strings of cum,soaking the fabric of your bunny suit.
Post nut clarity is lamenting over the broken chair because it came as a matching set with the dining table and the other chairs. He also cracked the table from holding onto it hard, teehee <3
I tried doing smth different with the formating of my posts. I hope it's useful.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
And it just made me think about ak genesis in retrospective as to how unreliable it is to show us the full picture of what Jason ACTUALLY went through.
Jesus, the way he screams is nauseating. I literally can't bare to hear it because of how gut wrenching it is.
Jason doesn't show us this when he lays the story to us in genesis. The way that Jason's torture goes after Joker grabs him is presented to us in fragments. Everything before that is linear. Now I'm very aware that they can't show all of what he went through to us in the comics but I'll give them some credit and say that it's done in order to represent that Jason's memories of his torture maybe are repressed. There's a theory that when something traumatic happens to a person that's too severe to be kept in conscious memory those memories are pushed back as far as possible,hence repressed. I don't wanna get all "armchair diagnosis" on Jason because I'm not really qualified but from what we know that he went through I wouldn't say that it's not far off as something plausible.
The way that it shows all the villains taking turns on beating him up is one part that contributes to my thinking that his memory is either fragmented or repressed. But what intrigues me is the infamous J brand. If you look closely on the first page there isn't one on Jason's cheek. When we jump to the next page, when Joker is shooting that video that he sends to Batman it's suddenly there. Now it could just be a case of the artist forgetting to draw it, or it could be Jason mixing up things in his memory, confusing the timeline of things and mixing dates and events up. Even in the game we always see him in that room tied up in some way but always in there. Staying in one place for too long, confined, beaten, broken down, it can make your mind play tricks on you and forget what's real and what's not.
Then there's a chronological event, and it only happens when Jason is unconscious.
We don't know how much time passes from when Jason is operated on and to when this happens but we jump to Harley brainwashing him to finally say that all this is Batman's fault. This actually makes me believe that this is the exact moment that Jason broke. The way Harley messed with his brain (she's a trained psychiatrist with a phd, she'd KNOW what to do) did what Joker couldn't finish. I don't think he was broken when Joker filmed the video, just beaten and worn out. Harley put the final nail in the coffin. She also gave him his brand new shiny name too as we all know. (This goes back to how much people underestimate her role in Jason's torture. People always forget to include what she did and it irks me because of what I explained above.And also the fact that she feels 0 remorse. "Oh I wAs WoNdEriNg wHaT HapPeNeDd To YoU" STFU)
We jump to the event when Joker brings those two thugs dressed as Batman in and makes Jason kill them and we see Jason absolutely snap. These are also chronological in a way because they're being witnessed by Harley, whom Jason has an interaction with on that same issue. At any point that the narration doesn't focus solely on Jason but has a second party there as a witness (Joker doesn't count since he's dead in AK, except for issue 6 in Genesis) the narration is somewhat to fully linear.
When Jason tells us about his torture we never get the full picture, ever. It's only through other parties that we get glimpses and pieces to put together. That is another reason why Jason is not a reliable narrator in Genesis.
All this thought vomit came from seeing that clip of him screaming again. If I was in his place I'd repress that too, honestly who wouldn't. We can only wonder about the full extents of what he went through and the actual time he spent being tortured. Arkham Jason's story is tragic in a bleek and brutal and it doesn't hold back. We're left on pause for his mental state post AK. There's the Red Hood dlc but I wouldn't even call that a crumb because it doesn't really give us much information besides him becoming Red Hood. How does he deal with what happened to him? How does he deal with all the destruction he brought to Gotham? How does he function as a person after that happens? Canon Jason at least get's the peace of dying in the end. Arkham Jason doesn't. (I know that sounds heartless and I swear I understand the complexities of dying and coming back and then trying to function again as a human being,I love all versions of Jason and I think they all didn't deserve even a single thing of what happened to them)
Jason in this universe feels much more alone, much more hopeless. It's soul crushing really. In all the context that were provided from his own psyche that's what we see from his point of view as well. He makes us believe that he's fucked up beyond repair with what he says and does in game and during the span of genesis and the other AK comic.
Planting pink carnations on Jasons grave. Tender hands planting each flower carefully, softly, gently. Tending to their roots and plucking the weeds. A symbol of your forever gratitude for his companionship. Your undying love and devotion that reaches beyond death. A symbol that you'll never forget him.
Torn bloodied hands digging through the calm earth of his forever resting place, your love grabbing onto those roots as he's about to rise to life once more. Aggressively digging for the surface, for life and air, to get away from the confines of his rotting wooden casket. In his awakening from the eternal sleep he tears those precious flowers apart as he crawls out with all his might. Feeling betrayal, feeling abandonment, feeling like the husk his casket has now become. He doesn't see the soft petals spewed all over the ground, he doesn't feel their softness clinging to his wounded hands as if to stop the bleeding.
You'll never forget him, but as he is now..he's the one that's forgotten.
Plants and flowers are very precious to me so I really wanted to write a little something with flower language in it.
Planting pink carnations on Jasons grave. Tender hands planting each flower carefully, softly, gently. Tending to their roots and plucking the weeds. A symbol of your forever gratitude for his companionship. Your undying love and devotion that reaches beyond death. A symbol that you'll never forget him.
Torn bloodied hands digging through the calm earth of his forever resting place, your love grabbing onto those roots as he's about to rise to life once more. Aggressively digging for the surface, for life and air, to get away from the confines of his rotting wooden casket. In his awakening from the eternal sleep he tears those precious flowers apart as he crawls out with all his might. Feeling betrayal, feeling abandonment, feeling like the husk his casket has now become. He doesn't see the soft petals spewed all over the ground, he doesn't feel their softness clinging to his wounded hands as if to stop the bleeding.
You'll never forget him, but as he is now..he's the one that's forgotten.
Plants and flowers are very precious to me so I really wanted to write a little something with flower language in it.
I've had a pretty big obsession with Greek mythology ever since I was a kid, so of course I've also tried to make parallels between it and my favorite medias and characters.
I was kinda thinking about a head canon for Jason as Hades and reader as Persephone but my brain rotted and I was like ; Jason is the one that's kinda more alike to Persephone ๐๐
It can apply to both comics Jason and AK! Jason. Before his death ("death" in pre AK) Jason is much literally Kore, the epithet used for Persephone to describe her being/state with her mother Demeter and the state of being before Hades kidnapped her. It's her most innocent aspect as a goddess. It's her maiden like state, her child like state if I may say so. Yeah I know Jason wasn't like completely innocent as a kid but he did what he had to do in order to survive, thats totally environmental. In his essence he still was an Innocent kid, an innocent kid who without question didn't deserve what happened to him.
Now Persephone as ๐๐๐ง๐จ๐๐ฅ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐ has many many more epithets to her. Cthonos (of the underworld), Brimo (angry one), Praxidice (bringer of justice). I'd say that they coo relate to post resurrection Jason very much. Persephone as the goddess of the underworld is also linked to necromancy. Obviously as the goddess of the underworld she'd preside over death magic and that sort. If you count necromancy as magic that raises the dead (and not talking to the dead like Circe can do in the Odyssey) that obviously correlates to Jason as well if you count the Lazarus pit as a necromantic source of power. [Necromancy and Persephone are also related because of her equation to Hecate but anyway]
'Orphic Hymn 29 to Persephone (trans. Taylor) (Greek hymns C3rd B.C. to 2nd A.D.) :
"Praxidike (Exacter of Justice), subterranean queen. The Eumenides' [Erinyes'] source." [N.B. Praxidike is a title of Persephone as avenger of the dead.]'
โฌIn the sense that Jason has a need to avenge himself (this relates more to AK! Jason).
Jason's death and resurrection is also cataclysmic in a sense, especially to Bruce. The way he becomes more violent when he's fighting crime and has to be convinced to not kill Joker is a pretty drastic change. He lost his son whom he loved so much, just like Demeter lost her daughter. They both mourn and it brings drastic changes to the way that they function and the world around them.
I'll be sure to add more to this later because that's all the capacity I have atm ๐ I'm tired as hell and this popped into my mind. I had to share it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
