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#His trauma practically writes itself!
burglar-bird · 2 years
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Zuko: Who are these rando soldiers?
Zhao's goons: uhhhhhh *rolls a 3 on deception check* we're totally normal, nonsuspicious soldiers. You should trust us.
Zuko *rolls Nat 1 on perception*: you're right I totally should.
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jasmines-library · 8 months
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Hi love <3!
I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable with writing something with the bat-family finding out that the reader has like, the abilities to transfer injuries to themselves.
Like, one of them is hurt and reader just rips their gloves off mid mission and drops to their side, transferring the injury to themself. Bonus points if they automatically transfer some psychological trauma as well? And maybe reader avoiding talking about it and stuff, the family finally seeing the countless scars that reader got because of their power.
(This is has been stuck in my head for forever and I’ve never seen anyone write the bat-family as good as you do, so <3)
Heal
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Note: I've literally wanted to write something like this for ages! thank you for requesting ❤️ also tumblr was throwing a tantrum and not letting me put the image I wanted as a header so you get a GIF instead :(
Warnings: Blood, Injury, Scars.
Word count: 1.7k
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
“Robin!”
The scream ripped itself from your throat as you saw him drop to the ground. The crook stood over him, removing the dagger that dripped with crimson red from where he had plunged it into Damians thigh. You practically launched yourself across the street as he fled, dropping to his side. He clutched feebly at the wound, eyes screwed up in pain. Your hand hovered over the wound as he cried out in pain gawping at the open wound. Blood gushed from the deep wound staining the concrete.
“Hold on Robin, you’re gonna be fine.” you told him as you tore off your gloves and discarded them on the ground. 
Then, pressing your hand firmly over the wound and wincing at his shout of discomfort, you began to heal the wound. It was a strange sensation that no matter how many times you felt, you never seemed to get used to. The tingling ran up your arms but quickly replaced by an agonising burn as Damian’s wound began to heal on his skin and began to appear beneath your thigh beneath your suit. You bit your lip to hold back the cry as you watched the gaping wound close leaving behind nothing but shiny new skin and another hole in his suit for Alfred to patch up.
Damian pushed himself up onto his forearms to regain his composure when he felt the pain dissipate from his body. Around you, the rest of the vigilantes were still battling the criminals who seemed to be flanking in from every possible angle. You helped him to his feet, asking if he was alright as you pulled on your gloves. He gave you a brief nod of thanks before dashing off with his katana in hand to help his family. You staggered behind him trying to hide the limp that you had developed from the wound. You could already feel it healing; one of the many perks of your abilities, but it still hurt like a bitch. But you pressed forward anyway, gripping your weapon tightly to help with the fight.
You had had much worse. Much much worse. Like that one time that Joker had captured Tim…you took all of his injuries. But the thing is, with injuries come memories. Each cell carries its own story. And every time you take on a wound, you take on some of the trauma that comes with it. It's not your own, but it feels so real. The images play inside your head on loop like a movie often cropping up at the worst times. The worst time was when Jason died. Although when he returned he was physically healed, he was still struggling; scarred by the memories that haunted him. So, when he started recklessly patrolling and you had offered to heal him, you took away as much of it as you could. 
Sometimes it was the memories that hurt more than the actual wounds themselves. To see and feel what they had been through broke you completely. The torment that Jason had been through that you had seen was something you couldn’t even muster up the words to describe. You couldn’t imagine what he went through and you would never be able to heal him completely, but you were glad you could help him as much as you could. Glad you could take away any of their pain even if it meant that you had to feel it for them. 
They didn’t know this. You had kept it somewhat hidden from them. The vigilantes knew you could heal wounds, but they didn’t know that you took on the injury. And you wanted to keep it that way because you knew that if they found out they would just stop you from doing it and you would be left feeling useless on the sidelines. 
Nightwing dropped down beside you, noting your slight limp as you fought against the criminals. They seemed to be thinning out now with the five of you fighting them. They either fled or dropped to the ground like flies.
“You alright?” He asked, swinging a right hook and sending a guy wielding a crowbar. You winced at the sight of it, hit with Jasons memories again.  
“Fine.” You grunted out as you blocked another oncomer. 
“You sure? You’re favouring your left side.” 
God damn you, Grayson. 
“Fine. Just took a hit is all but it’ll heal quickly. You know me.”
He eyed you uncertainly. He knew you were lying but he dismissed it. Dick had always had a suspicion that more happened to you than you let on but he had never pressed you to talk about it. Though, he was going to find out much sooner than you had hoped.
~
You stared at the scab on your thigh in the mirror; it would soon become a new addition to the tapestry of scars that covered your body. It was ragged, torn and an ugly reminder of the blade that stuck out of the young Wayne’s leg. Some of the scars that marred up your smooth skin were yours, though most of them once belonged to the boys. 
The scars flecked almost every inch of your body, all varying in size and shape. Some were small and round, others long and jagged and some in between. And though the scars saved your boys, you couldn’t sometimes help but wish that you weren’t left with them. Sometimes, it all became too much. For example when you healed a wound that had been forced upon them in such a brutal way that you would lie awake for hours with your eyes squeezed shut tight as you curled up on your bed waiting for the haunting memories to pass. Although your abilities meant that you healed quicker, sometimes you were still left managing the wound for days as it healed whilst still trying to hide it from the boys. You suffered in silence, often pondering if you should just tell them… but you never did. And it was worth it because seeing them okay put a smile on your face. 
You didn’t like to talk much about your abilities and how they worked, no matter how much they pressed you. Everytime the topic was brought up you would go quiet, or quickly change the subject, trying not to let the feelings resurface. You buried them deep to keep your secret.
“You okay, kid?” Jason frowned as you walked into the library, poorly disguising the last of your limp. He was lounging on one of the couches as he delved into one of Bruce’s many hardbacks. 
“Yeah I’m fine.” you dismissed, running your finger over the spines as you scanned the shelf for something to read to try and give yourself something to do for a few hours while your leg continued to heal. 
“You said that earlier.” Dick poked his head around the door, noting the way you tilted most of your weight onto your left foot as you stood on your toes to grab a book. “Your leg still bothering you?”
“A little, but it’s healing.” You shrugged, taking your book over to the couch and settling beside Jason. 
The eldest Wayne frowned, forcing wrinkles onto his forehead. “Shouldn’t a hit have healed by now?”
You cursed mentally. “It was a nasty hit.”
“You know, thinking about it didn’t Damian take a knife to the thigh?” Jason asked. 
“Yes.” Damian appeared in the doorway with Tim. “Y/N healed me though.”
“Strange.” Dick noted, tilting his head to look at you. The four of them had had a suspicion for a little while that something was going on. The way you avoided the topic was like having a sign waving above your head. 
“... it’s just a coincidence.”
“Just like the time you injured your arm training after healing my broken one?” Tim had you stuck. 
You bit your lip in the silence of the room. 
“Fine. Maybe I haven’t been totally honest with you all.”
Jason sat up and leaned forwards in his seat “Go on.”
You took a deep breath, preparing for their onslaught as you revealed the truth. “When I heal a wound, it doesn’t just…vanish.” The four of them watched you intently and you could feel a sheen of sweat try to break out across your forehead. “It transfers to me instead.”
Damian stared at you agape “But…”
“You’ve healed us so many times.” Dick said. “That's gotta be…”
Tugging your hoodie over your head, you revealed the scars to them for the first time. Tim had to hold back his shock. 
“Oh y/n/n…” The vigilantes all looked at the countless scars that covered your skin. 
“They’re not all yours.” You tried to lighten the mood, albeit it seemed to have little effect. 
“How have we been letting you do this? We should have know-”
“Stop.” You shut Tim down. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Healing you is… special. Making sure that you guys get to live another day is more important to me than anything.”
“But you’re hurting yourself…” Damian said shyly, feeling incredibly guilty.
“It doesn’t hurt bad. My accelerated healing means I can get rid of wounds that would take weeks for you to heal in a number of days. Sometimes hours. I like helping you.”
The boys narrowed their eyes at you. They were sceptical however they could see the truth behind it. You were selfless; always giving to others in need. They didn’t like that you were being hurt because of their recklessness, and they were angry with themselves that you felt you couldn’t tell them the truth, but they could see the reasoning behind it.
“Besides” You added. “I think the scars are pretty cool. Like a piece of artwork. And I can use them to blackmail you in the future.” You grinned.
“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes. “They are pretty cool though…”
There was a nod of agreement. 
“Thank you. y/n/n.” Dick said. “I honestly don’t know what we would do without you.”
“Bleed out and die probably.” You joked and he hummed with laughter.
“On a serious note,” Dick added “We have seriously got to stop getting hurt so much.”
🦇 Batfam Taglist:
@mamapucket
@xxrougefangxx
@hell-o-kittys
@aestheticdaisies
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randomshyperson · 1 year
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Easy Spider - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: Spider-Reader returns from the classic mission of stopping a moving train. Her girlfriend is not very happy to know the reason for the injuries. | Prompts Challenges.
Warnings: Some make out, but pure fluff with really brief arguing, trauma mentions, established relationship. | Words: 1.288k
A/N-> Me, forgetting to post? Don't know what you're talking about. Surprisingly, this one was ready before the second Spider-Verse was released. I haven't been able to see the movie yet, but I'd like to write more about Spider!Reader in the future. If you have any ideas/requests, please share.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
–//–
Not that Wanda was counting, but you had been away for twelve hours, thirty minutes, and sixteen seconds.
Seventeen.
The opening of the automatic door to the living room of the Avengers Tower took her complete attention away from the clock, and Wanda ignored Natasha's teasing chuckle from the opposite armchair when the younger brunette so ungraciously tossed the book she had been pretending to read for the last few minutes and practically ran out into the arriving group.
You gasped in surprise at the sudden tight embrace, and then in pain from the squeeze.
Wanda released you in the exact second, full concern in her expression.
"What's wrong?"
You chuckled weakly, one hand steadying itself on her waist. "Nothing so bad." You reply but Wanda's expression makes you sigh. "I stopped a train-"
She gasps. "A Moving one?" she blurts and doesn't wait for you to complete, already turning in the direction of Steve Rogers, equally exhausted but not at all injured. "You said it was a stakeout mission!"
The captain held up his hands in surrender to the other's menacing posture. Sam chuckled at the scene, fleeing to the kitchen before Wanda threatened him as well.
"It was! But it got out of hand and Y/N wasn't going to let the train fall off! There were civilians-"
"Dude, you're not supposed to rat me out." It was your turn to cut the captain off, giving him a slap on the chest. Wanda crossed her arms, and you sighed in defeat.
"Babe, I'm all right." You tried to ease the tension. "'That's all that matters, right?" but she just locked her jaw and stormed off, and you turned to the captain beside you. "Thanks for that, Rogers." You retorted wryly. Steve shrugged.
"Don't blame me, spider." He retorted and you rolled your eyes before following Wanda into the bedroom.
You thought Wanda was giving you the silent treatment because she refused to give any reactions to your apologies. But after you got out of the shower, and returned to the room you two shared, she was on the bed with a first aid kit waiting for you.
"Hm, thanks for this." You mumbled awkwardly, moving closer to where she was sitting. Wanda merely hums grudgingly, and you sighed before getting in front of her. "There's nothing so bruised. I know it doesn't look like it but I'm pretty strong." You try to joke, but Wanda stares you in the eye seriously.
"You said you were going to be careful."
"I was!" You assure her. "But there were people, Wands. I've stopped cars before, a train shouldn't be that hard. And Steve and Sam were there and -"
"Sam is human, Y/N." She interrupts impatiently. "And Steve is strong, but not that much. You could have been hurt, in fact, you were hurt."
"I'm fine-" But to prove a point, Wanda nudged you in the ribs and you pulled away with a grunt of pain. She raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. "Low blow, Maximoff."
"You know I'm technically your superior on the team, right? I can take you out of field missions." She mutters, and it's your turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Oh, are you threatening me now, baby?"
Wanda smiled, rolling her eyes. "Let's see how you do, Spider Woman." She teased, raising an alcohol-soaked cotton pad to the height of your face to tend to the superficial cuts. But you brought your faces closer together, and Wanda swallowed dryly. "Do I at least get a welcome kiss?"
"Not that you're really deserving one..." She whispers but ends up losing her train of thought when your lips meet. Yeah, Wanda missed that. 
And the best part is that you don't hold back. Injured or not, the medical kit ends up on the floor as your body moves over hers, pressing her against the bed as you exchange an intense, longing kiss. 
Wanda lets her hands slide into your shirt, the smell of freshly showered intoxicating her senses. She claws at your back, smiling as she feels you grunt against her lips. Your thigh firms up between her legs, and Wanda slides her tongue into yours, increasing the intensity of the make-out session. 
She wanted to be angry with you for your reckless behavior, but it was very hard to remember that when she was under you.
Your knee pressed against her with some purpose and Wanda clenched tightly at your sides, intending to have something to hold onto so she could rub herself against you, but the gesture made you break the kiss in a gasp of pain, completely breaking the mood.
"Mm-shit, I'm sorry. It was just-"
"Take off your shirt." Wanda didn't even let you finish, pushed you sitting up again as scarlet threads pulled the item out at once. You, breathless and embarrassed, averted her gaze over the number of purple marks. 
"It looks worse than it is."
Wanda didn't say anything at the first moment, just looked at you with irritation. Magic did the work of restoring the medical kit that went to the floor, pressing wet cotton swabs of alcohol, and spraying analgesics over your bruises. When she was satisfied with the result, Wanda stood up as you’re putting back your shirt.
"I'll let Steve know that you are suspended from field duty." She declared, ignoring your protests. 
"You can't do that, it's not fair!" You retorted indignantly, following her as she left to return the kit to the bathroom, which was clearly an excuse to escape the conversation since magic could do the job. "I was the spider for years before the Avengers, I have more experience as a hero than anyone here aside from Natasha. Titles are a formality! I was saving lives-"
"I can’t lose you too!" She exploded, and you shut up with a sigh. Wanda sniffled, looking down at the floor, "You're too important. And I can't go through this again. If you're going to keep risking yourself like this just... let me go first." She declares, to which you frown. Wanda closes her eyes, sighing. "At least give me time to learn not to care about you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" You retorted incredulously. "You want to break up with me over this? My-our, job?"
She hugged her own body. "That's not what I said." She retorted, upset. "I just don't want to be with someone who won't be careful. I don't want you to be in danger, and I don't want to lose you. I spent the whole last day worrying about whether you'd come back, and that got me thinking of what kind of life we'd have when we were married, you know? You will keep going around town and I will stay at home with the kids, without having any idea if you will come back or not?" Wanda continued babbling, but all your irritation was completely dissipated with one word. She fell silent when she realized that you hadn't tried to say anything else and were looking at her with a silly smile. "What?"
"You think about marrying me."
Wanda opened her mouth, once and twice, but nothing came out. She felt her face grow warm, becoming even more embarrassed under your intense gaze. "Well, yeah. That's an idea." She manages to mumble, but you chuckle lightly, nodding.
"Okay, I'll take that suspension." You retort putting your hands in your pajama pockets. Wanda raises an eyebrow, but you just smile. "It'll give me more free time, you know? To find the perfect engagement ring."
"W-what?" but you were already leaving the room, muttering something about announcing the news to the rest of the team with Wanda running after you.
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weasleyreidstyles · 6 months
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Serendipity Headcannons; Mattheo Riddle
series masterlist
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A glimpse into our main boy's life leading up to sixth year (where Serendipity kicks off) – eventually going to do them for each character (the ones who are a constant in the series), except meadow since that's more reader-centric but let me know who i should do next (this is me putting off writing chapter 17 because its making me want to rip out my hair)
It actually ended up being so long (i got carried away) that i'll have to do a separate post for the nsfw😏 hcs that i also wrote down - if that's something that people want to see of course
warning(s): cannonical violence, mentions of parental death, menions of torture and abuse (tried to make this as mild as possible), allusions to self harm (literally one bullet point), mentions of blood supremacy/cannonical pureblood madness, mentions of alcohol consumption/drug use, mentions of being sick (sorry fellow emetaphobes), allusions to an ED
Obviously he's Voldemort's son (its a known fact; when his name was called shortly after Harry's during the Sorting Ceremony, people immediately began to fear him for his last name – avoided him in corridors and older students were horrible to him)
His mother died when he was born, so he never got to meet her. But she had loved Tom Riddle with all her heart, despite knowing what kind of person he was (I like the tom hughes fancast for an older version of him – TikTok editors have me influenced)
When he failed to kill baby Harry, Theodore Nott's mum took it upon herself to care for Mattheo (who was only several months older than Harry at the time) – she was close friends with Matt's mum
They may not be related by blood, but Matt considers Theo to be his brother as well as his best friend
Mattheo's childhood (up until he was eight) was relatively acquiescent, but obviously being the heir to the Dark Lord comes with its own traumas – he was plagued with nightmares he swears were real conversations with his father
When Theo's mum died, his father wasn't the nicest to either of the boys; they both grew to resent him – the man either ignored them, shouted at them or beat them senselessly (to build character)
They had a Governess in the years after Theo's mum died, so that they'd be well ahead of their peers once they got to Hogwarts - also a way to keep them out of Theo Nott Senior's way
During his sorting, the hat immediately placed him in Slytherin, but it wasn't as quick to choose, like it was with Draco or Blaise.
Harry had unconsciously made him public enemy number one when he found out who he was (I mean his dad did kill Harry's parents so) as well as Draco and co
Mattheo doesn't believe in the blood supremacy that is spouted around pureblood families – has never used 'mudblood' to insult anyone (draco take notes fr) – but thats only due to theo's mother and the way she raised her boys – also it would be so hypocritical because he's a halfblood (i think, idk the twisted lore of purebloods too deeply)
Professor Quirrell took a particular interest towards Mattheo (his dad was literally playing house on the back of the guys head)
He found out that Quirrell was Voldemort (?) pretty quickly when the Dark Mark was burned onto his left forearm – something that continuously happened in his nightmares so he thought he was in one when it happened
Partly why he didn't say anything – he was also weary that no one would believe him
He tried everything to get it off his skin – burning, scratching, spelling, even carving it out, but nothing worked. The Dark Mark was engraved onto his arm like it had buried itself within the very cell structure of his skin
He didn't gain as much attention as Harry did in first year. He went practically under the rader after the first couple of months, only interacting with his small group of friends (Theo, Draco, Blaise, Enzo and Pansy) and competing for the top academic spot in class – when Theo's father found out that both boys were being beaten for first place by a muggleborn (go Hermione!), he used the cruciatus curse on both of them - moreso on Theo :(
Second year was a completely different story however
When the Chamber of Secrets opened, people whispered that he could be the heir of Slytherin (because his father is literally Voldemort so technically they weren't wrong) and he didn't go as unnoticed as before
He developed a thick skin towards the insults and returned them with steely looks that sent people scurrying the other way
He began physically fighting some people when his restraint snapped at times though – he didn't have a way to relieve the tension from all the agression at this point
The only people who spoke to him with no fear were his friends
When the first student was petrified, he was brought into Dumbledore's office for questioning
During the dueling session, he watched in awe as Harry spoke to the snake but didn't dare say a word
He was the only one in his group that didn't bad mouth Harry at this time or call him the 'heir of Slytherin'
He's actually really smart (not at Ancient Runes though lol) and is among one of Professor Flitwick's favourite students
When Harry and Ron posed as Crabbe and Goyle you (Meadow) had posed as Pansy and he had thought it was strange to see her with the two of them, but she had a small crush on Draco in first and second year so he brushed it off as her trying to impress his friend
But he knew it wasn't her when Draco had mentioned Hermione (calling her a mudblood) and 'Pansy' had gone deathly still
He's been skilled at Occlimency for as long as he can remember, as has Theo. But Mattheo has a certain affinity (he calls it a curse) for hearing people thoughts without even uttering the spell – also why he's so good at preventing people like Dumbledore from using it on him
Wasn't aware of his father's diary being used to lure Harry to the Chamber of Secrets, but at one point he heard the whispers in the pipes and vehemently ignored it until it eventually stopped (big mistake, cus voldy holds grudges very well)
Once Ginny was rescued from the Chamber, he felt incredibly guilty even though he literally had no control of the situation – sent her an 'anonymous' gift basket as an apology (he knew it would never make up for what happened to her, but he hoped it would at least make her smile) – it did, she thought it was a gift from dumbledore though
One of the only times he was even a little kind to the Golden Trio and their friends
The summer after second year was hellish for him and Theo
The basilisk was obviously meant to kill Harry so Theo Nott Senior was angry that his master's big plan had failed (2 years running🤝)
Third year was more mild than the last (thank God, honestly)
Mattheo had made it onto the quidditch team now that half of them had left the year before
He's a beater and proud of it – lets out all that pent up agression on the field, which makes him one of the best in his house (dare i say whole school🤭)
Quidditch became his whole personality basically (he's a teenage boy duh – it's like the football obsessed idiots in the pub levels) and he came to love the attention it brought him – he was starting to be noticed by girls outside Slytherin and making enemies with the rival players
He decided then that he wanted to play quidditch professionally in the future – he would not be caught dead behind a desk in the Ministry (they probably wouldn't hire hom anyway, simply because he's a Riddle)
Because he was on the team, he was invited to more parties which he also enjoyed – the man can drink!
But he wasn't one to jump around like a madman like some people he saw at the parties. He and his friends (those on the team – Theo, Blaise and Draco) would sit around the sofas and play drinking games with others who were sat down – including you and some of your housemates at times – but never the Gryffindors
Sirius Black was on the loose which took the pressure of being Tom Riddle's son off his shoulders somewhat – no one actually dared to fuck with Mattheo now that he was a beater either
Buckbeak took a liking to him, surprisingly, as did the thestrals that only he, Theo and so few others could see
The dementors affected him as much as they affected Harry – he could hear his own mother's cries
During the boggart lesson, he was apprehensive of what he would see – would he see what he sees in his most horrifying nightmares? Or would it be something as trivial as a grindilow or something?
Safe to say he was glad that Professor Lupin stopped the lesson after Harry's turned into the dementor
Speaking of dementors, one of the only spells he cannot cast is the Patronus Charm – even his happiest memories are not strong enough to envoke the magic
People thought he helped Sirius into the castle at one point (absurd, i know)
He and Harry got into some arguments at times – Mattheo liked to provoke him for the fun of it, mostly so that competition on the quidditch field was filled with extra tension, but also because Harry and Ron are dickheads who like to talk shit about him and his friends (hypocrites because the Slytherins literally do the same thing lol)
This is the point where you're on his radar a bit more frequently – you, Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade a lot and were frequently in the same places as Mattheo and his friends
He does not like you at all, partly for the fact that you follow Harry and Dumbledore so blindly but also – you are one of the reasons he and theo get so much stick at home, along with hermione being top of the class, you are as well so he grows to resent you a little
He's always there when you're yelling at anyone who says something against your friends (usually Crabbe or Goyle – our mortal enemies fr)
When Sirius escaped the dementors people genuinely thought he helped (again, absurd i know)
Moving onto fourth year...he went to the Quidditch World Cup with Theo and Nott Senior disappeared after the match ended and festivities began
We all know what happened but when the Dark Mark appeared in the sky, Theo, Draco and Mattheo all looked at it in absolute horror, having heard the harrowing stories first hand from their families
Mattheo had a panic attack at the thought of his father returning – after the run in with him in first year, he's been certain that Voldemort isn't really dead, and this confirms it for him (because why the fuck would his father's mark appear out of nowhere?)
Because of that, the school year is off to a great start
He gets into fights left, right and centre – especially since quidditch has been cancelled in favour of hosting the Triwizard Tournament (i've obviously aged up the characters but lets pretend the age limit still exists in some capacity)
The Durmstrang students practically worshipped the ground he walked on – which was ego boosting to start with, but Mattheo quickly grew irritated by their constant infatuation with him – especially Karkaroff who always compared him to the great Tom Riddle or the 'Dark Lord' interchangeably
Whenever Professor Moody stared at him for too long, he got an odd sensation on his left forearm, where the mark sits, like spiders were scurrying and crawling around – he decides after the very first DADA lesson (unforgivable curses) that he did not like this professor.
There was just something off about him, but Mattheo couldn't quite figure out what – foolishly tried Occlimency but obviously it didn't work on the most infamous auror
Wasn't even surprised when Harry's name came out of the Goblet – he is coined 'Saint Potter' by the friendgroup (started of course by Draco)
He and Theo snuck out to the forbidden forest to see the dragons up close before the first task – almost got caught by Charlie Weasley, had Hagrid and Harry not showed up with Madame Maxine mere moments before he could spot them
He took a random girl from Beauxbatons to the Yule Ball because he did not want to deal with the hassle of Hogwarts gossip – but everyone gossiped about it anyway (busybodies)
Rumours went around about the two of them (you know like how Snape caught two people in the carriage🤭)
At this point, you were just his arch nemesis' best friend so you were not fully on his radar past sneering comments and jibes, but a small part of him can admit that you looked beautiful in your glittering dress (think Feyre starfall dress vibes)
The rest of the year went by uneventfully – he got on with his school work and remained one of the top of class except in Ancient Runes which theo tried to tutor him in....unsuccessfully
In the months leading up to the third task, Mattheo noticed Moody's skittish behaviour (also Karkaroff and weirdly...Snape) especially after Crouch was found murdered in the Forbidden Forest after the second task
On the day of the first task, he had the worst gut feeling he's ever felt – bigger than the day he found out that his surrogate mother had died
Sitting in the stands with his friends, near the back of the stadium, his arm begins to burn so painfully that he has to fight physically crying out at the crippling pain (Voldemort just got resurrected as a noseless alien)
Excuses himself to his friends' utter confusion and concern – Theo stops Pansy from running after him, letting him have space, somehow just knowing what Matt's sudden departure meant (he saw Mattheo cradle his left arm while he walked away)
Just before Mattheo walks through the exit, Harry apparates back with the trophy (portkey) and Cedric's dead body beneath him screaming that "Voldemort's back!"
He couldn't hold back the contents of his stomach at the statement because he knew it was true. He just knew it deep in his bones.
He had to hide behind the bleachers of the quidditch pitch while everyone was stampeding to leave, where he just sobbed and sobbed because he knew then what his future would be.
Theo found him an hour later and together they mourned for the future Mattheo had desperately always wanted
That summer was the worst he's ever experienced to date.
He met this snake-like version of his father, his only other memories being of a handsome man (Tom Hughes vibes) not whatever this thing was.
His father thanked Theo Nott Senior personally for taking such good care of his heir – this was such an ego boost for that horrid man
Mattheo was tortured into the perfect soldier that summer – tasked with training other Slytherins/purebloods into the regime
Its not very discernable but if his hands are still for long enough, they begin to shake unconsciously due to just how many times Voldemort used the cruciatus curse on him
His nightmares had become a reality that summer – he no longer slept, and only ate when Draco had to force him to
There was one silver lining at least
No one believed Harry Potter.
So Voldemort's army grew exponentially in secret, as did their knowledge of certain prophecies
We know that Professor Trelawney had the vision but Voldemort has a seer of his own – who made him aware of the order being in possession of a siphon but not able to say who it is (its meadow of course🤪🤪🤪)
His fifth year marked the start of the war, even if the otherside didn't know it just yet
At school, Harry started many explosive arguments with him, that he admittedly fed into a little bit out of pure amusement
His stoic facade was ever present this year. Not an expression painted his handsome face in the public eye. Rarely did anyone catch a glimmer of joy in those onyx eyes.
It was around this time, when he discovered that Harry was being taught Occlimency that you were doing some studying of your own
He heard the soft whisper of your thoughts in his head – a pleasant sound – mumbling little bits and pieces about the art, as if you were revising them over and over like a broken record
He knew you were Theo's patrol partner because Theo would not stop complaining about having to deal with one of Saint Potter's loyal followers (the two of you did not speak for 5 whole patrol sessions – lets say between September and November)
Thats when the idea sprang
Admittedly it started out as a way to satisfy his curiosity
He wanted to know why you were learning Occlimency and actually doing surprisingly well, despite not having someone to actively practice it on/with you, while Potter was not taking it seriously at all
So he asked Theo to try and befriend you – when asked why, he explained that he was curious and wanted to know if he hunch he had was right – his gut feelings are almost never wrong
Theo begins his task of slowly befriending you and relaying anything remotely important to Mattheo – no progress at first, until the two of you happen to bond over your hatred for the new DADA professor
He joins the Inquisitorial Squad because Theo's father wanted him to, and by extension said that the Dark Lord wanted his son to set an example too (lets not forget, in his prime Tom was literally the smartest in the school – was definitely head boy as well as an academic weapon)
This is how he finds out what Umbridge's detentions truly entailed
Speaking of Umbridge (she deserves her own tw actually), she had shown particular favouritism towards Mattheo and his friends, to anyone who was against Harry, really – never gave them detentions and let them off easily, even defended Mattheo's honour against Harry's 'heinous' accusations
But back to the detentions – both he and Theo found out about the blood quill around the same time
He was waiting for Theo to finish patrols so they could go smoke in the Astronomy Tower, when he overheard Umbridge talking to the two of you
Well actually she was talking to you – because apparently it was now against the rules for prefects to walk around past curfew (even though thats their literal role?) and she gave you a detention for it
When you asked why in Merlin's name Theo wasn't being treated the same, she said it's because he's on the Inquisitorial Squad and was therefore exempt from her detentions
You had detention the next day and did not show up to your next few patrols, but Mattheo saw the hints of a glamour covering your non-dominant hand (he would know because he's had a glamour over his scarred forearm for years)
Theo told him that you refused to admit that something was wrong - you hadn't even told your friends about whatever was bothering you
They found out by chance – a first year that had gotten lost was cradling their hand and the boys saw the words of the boy's own scrawl etched harshly into the flesh of his hand
When Matt was observing you in the library one day (happenstance, he's not a stalker lol), he was deducing how far along you were with Occlimency but found that you winced and held your head when he actively tried to enter your mind – not good for how long you'd been teaching yourself the art
So he gets Theo to talk to you mentally and the first time it happens is actually comical – you drop the contents of your potions incredients onto the floor out of shock before you whack Theo across the head with your hardbacked potions textbook
That's really how the two of you became friends, your friendship with Pansy following soon after
Now you're slowly building up the tolerance for Occlimency with a little help from a friend
Leading up to Christmas, the mark burns wickedly against his skin at all hours of the day
Then Arthur Weasley is attacked and Mattheo is surprised that no Weasley has come to deck him in the face for simply being Voldemort's son
Obviously no one does because everyone (barring you and Hermione) have been swept away to 12 Grimmauld Place
After Christmas he does get decked – George sends a bludger his way that most definitely had the power to break his entire arm (and definitely a few ribs); after the abysmal Christmas break he's had, he's almost tempted to let it happen – but his beater instincts kick in and he's pelting the bludger and all its momentous energy towards one of Gryffindor's chasers instead
His Dark Mark burns every time his father fails to retrieve his and Harry's prophecy
He begins to suspect that you are the siphoner when you perform wandless magic like its a second nature during breakfast one morning (you're using your magic to flip through the pages of your book, while you leisurely sip coffee, probably awaiting Granger's arrival)
His suspicions are more than confirmed when your magic seems to literally pulse like your pulling more of it from the air – it's almost indiscernible, but if he paid attention, he could see the symphonic ripple of your magic and the Great Hall's magic mingling in the air (and he knows Dumbledore can see it too)
He explains this to Theo without telling him so much that'll get him involved with what knowing this will mean for his brother
He passes all his O.W.Ls with a plethora Outstanding and Exceeds Expectations grades, except for Ancient Runes where he gets a mere Acceptable (which somehow still allows him to retake the class in his N.E.W.Ts options, funnily enough)
What's not funny is Voldemort's reaction to this anomaly of a result :(
Lets rewind to june 18th (aka battle of department of mysteries; RIP Sirius Black you icon, you legend)
The DA have just been busted (like two weeks/a week prior to the date above) and you're all in detention writing out the line "I must not disobey the Ministry" over and over again – to the point where it has become a permanent scar that you see everyday
Exams are happening and Harry has just been delivered a vision by Voldemort (he just passed out in a DADA exam🫣)
Saint Potter and his band of followers try to break into Umbrige's office and fail exponentially
The Inquisitorial Squad catch you all in the act of guarding the corridor outside her office while Harry, Ron and Hermione try and contact Sirius
You're all trapped in the office and everyone (including the Inquisitorial Squad) is shocked when she goes to cast the cruciatus on Potter – internally Matt is cringing and fighting the instinctive flinch
"You can't do that! It's illegal!" Your defence of harry is ignored as Umbridge puts Fudge picture face down – Matt swears your eyes burn a violent indigo, but it's gone in a blink
Hermione and Harry end up taking her to where 'Dumbledore's secret weapon' is and you lot are now all stuck with the Inquisitorial Squad
Theo actually only holds you loosely, and he's the same with Ginny – not forcefully holding her, but also not allowing her to break free at the same time
Crabbe and Goyle take Ron's bate and eat the Puking Pastilles from the Weasley twins' personal collection and you all escape
Then the battle eventually takes place and everyone knows that Voldemort truly has returned
Now onto the current timeline of Serendipity!!
Mattheo decides over summer that he wants to help the otherside desperately
Especially because Draco is now a Death Eater
And Enzo and Theo are set to become Death Eaters the following Christmas – punishment for what happened during the battle in June
Proposes the idea that he teach you Occlimency in exchange for you helping them get out – the group agrees and Theo and Pansy set out to persude you to help
Roll on the Serendipity plot where he slowly begins to actually care about you (scary feelings; unknown territory)
He's never felt this strongly about someone before, not in the way he feels about you
At first he enjoyed how infuriated you became with him; he also despised how many questions you would ask (but that was your nature and he grew accustomed to it)
You're the only one whose ever called him Théo, after the death of Theo's mother, the name was as good as dead to him, until you started calling him it – he never wanted you to stop
The feelings you invoke in him are what finally allow him to produce a full patronus – when the majestic form of a Hippogriff bursts from the tip of his wand, swirling and spiralling at the thought of you, he let out a genuine laugh
He's so soft for you – his persona changes in the blink of an eye at times – from cruel and brooding to gentle and compassionate
His friends have never seen him happier – admittedly were surprised to learn of your relationship, but when they watched the way the two of you interacted after you'd become a pariah to your old friends, they understood.
Mattheo is so protective of all his friends, and somehow he's even more protective of you – he had wanted to incinerate Harry and Ron on the spot for how they'd made you feel, but knew you would never forgive him for it, despite how badly they'd hurt you
He'd burn the world down if it meant you'd be safe, especially because you had the one power that his father desired to have in his ever growing arsenal
Mattheo always has to be touching you in some way (he's a physical touch kind of guy), whether that be a hand on your thigh when you're seated; an arm wrapped around you as you walk; interlocking pinkies, etc. He just loves feeling you near him.
You're such a typical Slytherin/Ravenclaw couple – your intellect amazing him all the time, and he's no longer miffed that you always beat him for a spot at the top in class – his ambitions and adamant loyalty are something that you admire dearly, and hold close to your heart
You both know without having to voice it that your love is unconditional and eternal. Its a love as rare as your magic.
~∞~
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to-the-stars8 · 1 year
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Can someone genuinely answer this ever lingering question as to why DC has such beef with Jason Todd?
They butcher his character and relationships, and for what? There’s so much fucking POTENTIAL not only with his character but with his story! There’s a way to actually write discourse in a relationship without making it so damn abusive. Maybe I’m missing something in the story or just in general, but it’s just so fucking irritating when it could be good.
You have a nice, good boy who only wants to help despite given the short hand in life who is then given a loving father who just so happens to be Batman. That boy is then murdered by Batman’s biggest enemy (don’t even get me started on the fucking Joker who essentially has become idolized in the worst ways by DC writers and directors) still trying to do the right thing despite being fucked over by the very person he so desperately wanted love from. Then, you have that same boy who’s just a little bit older, hurting and angry— acting out in every way he can against the man who loves him but couldn’t see past his own weaknesses. And what do DC writers do instead of making this complicated, intriguing and character growing relationship into something that’s not as fucking dumb and slightly out of character for Batman? They fuck him up.
It’s an extreme to say this, I know. And this isn’t against all DC writers, but you can’t deny a lie when it’s a pattern. It’s a cut and dry story that practically writes itself. You have a little boy who is so full of hope is growing along with the main character of the story (which, in my own personal opinion, Batman has Robin not as a soldiers—and omfg does that damn phrase make me violent—but as a potential, mutual factor of character growth) , who then gets a bit too cocky and distracted by his own hubris and need for love, to a hurt antagonist that goes against the man who he once called father. Like it’s too easy to not fuck this up, and yet DC seems to manages to do this every single time.
It’s almost like they want to portray Batman and Bruce Wayne as a man who is made “tougher” by his trauma (which has some patriarchal undertones if you catch my drift) instead of growing. Batman can grow. He can love. There’s one post that I’ve seen on Tumblr how Batman/Bruce does this whole vigilante thing out of love.
Which is why I don’t get why DC uses Bruce as a tool to hurt Jason when it isn’t really consistent. He loved Jason, and this is backed up by a lot of older and a few current issues. Don’t get me wrong, I get that their relationship post-UTRH is gonna be FUCKED. Yet, even the writing in that I can’t really agree with. KILLING (attempting to kill really) your son who had been dead for years, that you loved so much, and is acting out because YOU? Doesn’t make much sense, but, again, maybe I’m looking at this through a foggy lens.
This wasn’t meant to be a long post, but it’s just been on my mind and perhaps I could use another perspective. So, again, what’s DC’s deal with Jason and Bruce’s relationship, and Jason’s character as a whole?
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techramonic · 4 months
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Analysis on Dylan's Transcribed Journal Entries
Disclaimer: This analysis/psychoanalysis is limited only to analysis as a means to reflect and understand the people involved. It is strictly informative. Just like all of my posts, I am detached from the media I write about and solely focus on the people to understand their psychology, for others to gain insight. There is no room for me to romanticize or glorify anything I write because I am only here to explain. I understand and research, but I do not condone. Thank you.
"Fact: People are so unaware.... well, Ignorance is bliss I guess.... that would explain my depression." - Dylan
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On pages 26. 385, we are given a glimpse of Dylan's personality in just one sentence. This hypersensitivity, which he links to his heightened "awareness," is entwined with suffering, or in his terms, depression. He perceives his relentless thought cycle as a curse, one that he cannot control. He mourns this enlightenment because it isolates him, making him feel different and detached from others. Dylan believes his uniqueness renders him unacceptable, worsening his sense of alienation and driving him to view himself more as a concept than a human being.
On p. 26. 388, he entails that he commits "moral" acts to "cleanse" himself or rid of any filth present in his life, making it seem that this is one of the only ways to allow his life to head to the right direction because he has no clear sense of path and possibly believes that all roots of destruction and chaos present in his life are born out of the morally unjust. He considers his misfortune to be an eternal suffering that transcends all realities; for he believes miserableness is bound to him.
Perhaps one of the reasons why he tries to rid himself of immorality is because of his unconscious belief that it might be the root of his problem. Cleansing himself is a temporary form of escapism aimed at removing permanent wrongs. It does not last, of course, because as humans, we make mistakes. However, his approach to this is considering his wrongs to be eternal and innate, which is not true and further drives him into miserableness.
Dylan also dwells on the past and is prone to transference. In psychoanalysis, transference occurs when past experiences influence current ideologies, projecting unresolved problems and traumas onto present events. This is evident in Dylan's detachment from others, rooted in past isolation and alienation. He believes no one can accept or love him due to his unresolved abandonment issues.
Expanding on abandonment, as noted on p. 26. 394, Dylan feels deserted because his "only" best friend spends more time with his partner, leaving Dylan feeling unwanted and rendering his efforts in their friendship unreciprocated. This loneliness leaves him more upset than resentful, holding onto hope that his friend will come back. This ties into his deep yearning for love. He repeatedly expresses his desire to be loved and accepted by his peers, his crush, and anyone. Even when infatuated, he idealizes love, feeling it deeply because he actively seeks it and feels deprived of it. Dylan is infatuated with the concept of love itself, craving it so intensely to the point he practically craves it so actively and it becomes a central focus of his existence.
Yearning: to be seen, to be loved, to be accepted, to be human.
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luminouslywriting · 3 months
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Bob headcannon Faking being a man in the easy company then getting discoverd ,and maybe make slightly romantic
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Hi hon! This one was super fun :) im steadily working through the requests but I’ve got a huge pile of them haha! Feel free to keep sending me requests though! I love them! More under the cut, cut for length, some light spice and mentions of the female body included, some are platonic and some are not:
Dick Winters:
-Listen, this man clocks it straightaway. He’s practically the leader of Easy Company in Toccoa and he just KNOWS 😂
-That being said, he’s also not gonna confront you about it unless problems arise or you being a woman becomes prevalent. He will, however, keep a closer eye on you and watch your back more. -Becomes your friend genuinely in the hopes that you’ll trust him enough to ask for help when you need it. -The least likely to make a move on you the entire time….but also the one who hides the fact that he has feelings so that you won’t get discovered. -And when you finally actually tell him and he’s not surprised?? He’s just glad that you have someone to talk to and that he can be there for you during all of this. -Probably comes to find you after the war and tells you how he feels
Lewis Nixon:
-Also knows since Toccoa. He’s the intelligence officer and he’s out here side-eying you from day one 👀
-Which means he’s not hovering but he definitely pays attention when you’re mentioned and keeps an eye on whatever you’re up to
-Probably offers you a drink at least once and that’s when information is shared and he’s just like, “yeah?? Tell me something I don’t know lol.” -Also offers to share a foxhole with you and makes sure that you don’t freeze to death. Is actually very soft on you. -Confides in you about his marriage problems and you tell him all about your life back home and what was going on. -Honestly?? It’s giving friends to lovers vibes later down the road. You two would reconnect after some years and fall in love.
Ronald Speirs:
-Finds out on D-Day when you two end up near one another and is not even in the slightest surprised. Because of course you’re here and not back home and suddenly everything makes much more sense. -But because he’s not in Easy, he’s not about to say anything. He does do his best to talk with you when the opportunity presents itself. -Probably actually worries about you during Bastogne and is relieved to be transferred over to Easy so that he can better keep an eye on you/protect you. -You two have a sweet conversation at the church and he promises that he’ll do his best to protect you and keep you from harm. -Honestly, he’s more impressed than anything else and has mad respect for you and what you’re doing. -Won’t admit any feelings until the end of the war though.
Buck Compton:
-Finds out by accident…..in a foxhole….during Bastogne
-It’s a whole mess honestly. There you are just trying to get some things done and he walks in on you and is just 🤯 shooketh tbh
-Treats you like a lady when it’s just the two of you and asks if you’ll share the foxhole so that he can better protect your decency/honor haha. -You two become good friends and he’s real worried about you but then he ends up going to the field hospital after Bill and Joe get hit. -So you write him faithfully the entire rest of the war and you help him get through a lot of his trauma and figure out his feelings. -He has a soft spot for you forever.
Carwood Lipton:
-You know that scene where he gets injured and it’s a whole panic because he’s worried he’s lost a certain appendage? Now imagine that in reverse. -The minute he realizes that you are not, in fact, a man, he’s speechless, befuddled, panicked, and in slight shock
-GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!? This poor man has a whole internal panic about it because clearly you need to talk with him and figure some things out. -He really wants to tell Winters about the entire thing but you convince him that it won’t happen again and that you’ve got this
-Big brother Lipton activated; he’s out here being a total helicopter parent and concerned af about your life decisions
-From this point on, you basically have someone at your side 24/7 and who literally adores you in the most platonic way.
Joe Liebgott:
-He accidentally finds out when he sneaks into the showers in Toccoa and finds you there (cue the Spider-Man meme haha)
-Immediately panics and closes his eyes and is just freaking out because why the hell is there a girl here??? -Wants to tell people but is actually very good at keeping the secret. Probably becomes a Lowkey guard-dog in order to better watch your back. The last thing anyone needs is the wrong sorta person finding out that you’re not a man. -Besties who slay with humor….and who have each other’s backs. -Is always willing to share food and blankets and supplies with you. He’s very sweet on you. -Absolutely wants to be with you after the war is over.
Donald Malarkey:
-Again, total accident that he finds out?? He goes to collect laundry after D-Day and finds you with some stained red clothing that you’re trying to clean. It’s an oof moment. -At first, the girl math is not mathing and he’s confused. -But he has sisters and automatically becomes a safe place for you to go to and someone who you can rely on or talk to. -He’s a great foxhole partner and someone easy to talk to. He wants to hear about why you wanted to be a paratrooper and is a great help with helping you act like a guy. -Relies on you a ton during Bastogne and afterwards….appreciates your support and values your friendship. -And yes, he has a tiny crush on you haha.
Eugene Roe:
-Figured it out pretty quickly, a la menstrual cycle 👀 but also isn’t getting paid enough to confront you about it?? -So if you come to him and talk to him about the issues, then you two will be good friends. He drinks respect women juice in plenty so there’s no problems there. -The bestie vibes are immaculate and he simply adores you. You might be the person to get him to talk most. -He’s always the one who patches you up or helps you with what you need. And when you offer to share your foxhole with him, he’s a little bit of a blushing mess. -Has had a crush on you for most of the time he’s known you and does have a few small pet names in French. -You two probably start a secret relationship and are engaged before you even get back to the states. And yes, everyone is baffled haha.
Bill Guarnere:
-Super in love from day 1 he found out you were a girl? A girl who can handle herself and keep up with the men? Now that’s impressive. -Also found out by accident and it’s because he saw the blood in your sheets and was *le gasp*
-Is very good at keeping the secret and tries to push you to keep going and encourages you to accomplish the things that are hard. -He’s a great support system and an even better guard dog haha. -Is super respectful and doesn’t make a single move on you….so babe, you gotta kiss him first in that snowy foxhole. -Write to him after he gets injured….you may just come out of the war with a husband haha.
Joe Toye:
-Finds out accidentally when trying to help you with an injury and immediately just feels guilty for being mean to you lol
-Honestly? This man will never breathe a word of your secret. He’s a great alibi for feminine issues and will back you up with whatever lies you need haha. -Is very sweet on you but also treats you like one of the guys?? He’s a weird mix of trying to help you feel like yourself and your alter-ego
-Always offers to share or help you with whatever you need
-Probably shares a foxhole with you and tried to keep spirits up in any way he can. -Fully intends to marry you if the both of you make it through the war.
George Luz:
-Cannot keep the secret for the life of him….or do you thought?? -He finds out accidentally once you guys get to Hagenau and you sneak out to the showers way later than everyone else 👀
-He’s the pikachu meme truly….just shocked and doesn’t know how to treat you then?? He’s going to need a learning curve to figure out how this works. -Is honestly a ride or die bestie for you at this point and wants to hear ALL the tea about how and why you did it. -Falls in love with you super easily and asks if you’ll write him when you get home
-Surprises you once you’re home and asks you out on a date :)
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ailithnight · 2 years
Text
A DP X DC AU fic premise I desperately want to read but do not currently possess the spoons to write myself. So if anyone wants to run with it, credit and tag me, but go for it.
.
.
Ra's Al Ghul needs an heir.
A good strong one.
But just one.
After all, he is smart enough to know that a power struggle between heirs could ruin what he has spent centuries building.
So when his daughter delivers not one, but two, he does what any Loving Grandfather would.
He has them both trained for 6 years.
And when it is time for their first blood, he orders they fight to the death.
Only the best shall survive to become his heir.
.
Despite her faults, Talia Al Ghul loves her sons.
Not more than her father, but very nearly as much.
So while her Father and the League are preoccupied welcoming the Victorious, she sneaks back to mourn the Defeated.
Only to find him clinging to life. Just barely, but still so. His brother's mark just barely missing the heart.
So she does what any Devoted Assassin would do.
She tells her Father that she will dispose of the body such that it can never be found or used against them.
Then she gives her son a quick bath and secrets him away to an orphanage in the middle of nowhere, Illinois.
.
Damien Al Ghul killed his twin.
His other half.
His better half.
For all that Damien held himself above all others, he knew that Danyal had been the better twin. Faster, stronger, smarter, more precise, more accurate.
Damien had rarely failed Grandfather, but Danyal had only failed him once.
When Grandfather had ordered their deathmatch; when Danyal had stood over Damien victorious, only needing to deliver the killing blow; Danyal had hesitated.
Damien did not.
At 6 years old, Damien made his first kill, for the favor of a man he has since renounced.
Damien Al Ghul murdered his twin.
It is a truth ingrained in his being. A guilt he bears silently. And a piece of himself that Father must never, ever know.
.
Daniel James Fenton has no recollection of his life before the orphanage.
Jazz has mumbled before something about "heavily repressed childhood trauma." For once, Danny is inclined to agree. Whatever might have happened before the orphanage, Danny believes he is better not remembering.
So when something manages to trigger his fight or flight response -a feat which itself strangely takes very dire circumstances, no simple jumpscare or everyday bullying will do- and Danny finds himself jumping into a perfect, practiced fighting stance; he shrugs it off, pretending it must be those self defense lessons with mom.
And when, once in a blue moon, Danny finds himself turning to say something or gesture something or help the empty space beside him.
When the image flashes in his mind of his own face with emerald eyes occupying that emptiness.
Danny blinks and shakes his head, heart clenching (or perhaps the space just next to it aching) for just a moment, before the distant echo of a painful memory slips back out of his mind.
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spacebarbarianweird · 8 months
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Hi!! I love your headcanons, especially the last one you posted of a Monk!Tav! If it's okay, would you be willing to write headcanons about a Tav with chronic pain? My idea was of a Tav who uses forearm crutches due to chronic pain, but still learns to fight and/or cast spells and such despite this. I use crutches myself but I still practice capoeira (it's actually not as difficult as I though it'd be, surprisingly!), so I always wondered how Astarion would feel about a character like that.
Also I'd really like to read about Astarion navigating physical intimacy with someone who can't do certain things (stay too long in one position, move in certain ways when back/legs/hips hurt, etc) because of the chronic pain, if you'd like to add that in.
I love this prompt! Because it requires me to do research. 
Let me know if I wrote something wrong.
Astarion x Tav With Chronic Pain
Masterlist
Headcanons
Many years ago, you were severely hurt.
It was the dark magic, the necrotic damage.
So painful and disgusting, you were blessed to be unconscious.
You recovered. Thanks to the healing potions.
Wounds healed. Bones mended.
But the pain remained.
It follows you like a shadow, like a ghost, like an intrusive thought.
Sometimes, you forget about it.
But it reminds of itself when you least expect it.
You've tried to heal it, but as with any sickness bestowed by dark magic, it will never fully go.
Sometimes, it is so bad you have to use crutches because you almost can't move.
The tadpole, though, suppresses it, and you forget that you ever had this chronic pain.
It returns the moment you are free.
The pain is so unbearable you want to cut your arms off.
You barely manage to get into the inn, and you stay there in the fetal position.
Unable to move a finger.
Soon after sunset, you hear familiar steps and the familiar weight on the bed.
"What is it, my sweet?" he playfully asks, only to see you are in pain.
Maybe he has witnessed this condition before or it is just too familiar, but Astarion immediately recognized it.
He brings you water to drink and then a medicinal ointment he'd probably stolen.
"Sit up," he orders and starts massaging your hands, rubbing the ointment into the skin.
It prickles, but the feeling is nice.
Then he does the same with your legs and back.
You felt like a doll in his hands, but you didn't mind.
Then, he brought you food and fed you with a spoon.
You feel relaxed and sleepy. The pain is still there, but it's not that bad.
Astarion hesitates to lie beside you, but you manage to find the way you both feel comfortable.
You keep being adventurers, but it has its complications.
Sometimes you just can't move. Sometimes, you need crutches (and for these periods you always stay somewhere safe). Astarion is always ready to carry you in his hands, but sometimes you prefer not to be touched.
Which he understands perfectly. He has his times when he doesn't want to be touched.
From time to time, you are in such pain you cry, and Astarion stays with you until it gets better.
You know a thousand ways to help him with his nightmares and traumas.
He knows a thousand ways to ease your pain.
You are each other's burdens, but together it's much easier to go through the night.
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kenobster · 1 year
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The thing about Anakin (in prequel trilogy movies) is that he actually is a really good person by default. He is a war hero for a reason; he cares so deeply and unconditionally. Sure, he's a little careless sometimes and a little impulsive. He makes mistakes and bad calls and sometimes he needs to get his hormones under fucking control. But overall, he's very much trying to do a good job. He listens to feedback, he asks for advice, and he apologizes and tries to improve when he realizes he's wrong. 
Really, he only ever crosses unforgivable lines when two very specific criteria are met: (1) when the most sensitive points of his trauma are being put under an immense amount of pressure; (2) when his support system, for whatever reason, is absent. 
And even when those two criteria are met, he still struggles not to cross those lines as hard as he can for as long he can--until he eventually just snaps under the pressure.
Example #1, the Sand People massacre. Long before going to Tatooine, Anakin’s trauma points were already under an extreme amount of pressure. He was having nightmares about his mom--reminding him of his childhood as a slave and of the slavery in which he’d left her behind. When Anakin does go to Tatooine, his support system consists solely of a girl whom he does like and does trust but whom he doesn’t know very well. Old wounds continue to reopen as he takes his first steps into Mos Epsa and speaks with Watto, a being who owned and abused him. Anakin has no reason whatsoever to think Watto isn’t the orchestrator of his mother’s torment. But does he kill, dismember, or otherwise attack Watto? No. He remains polite. So polite, in fact, that it’s unsettling.
When he hears about his mother's capture and torture from the Lars family, Anakin is, suffice to say, upset. To rescue her, he goes alone (no support system). Even with his mother actively being brutalized (trauma), Anakin does not arrive with the intention of violence. He does not massacre the entire village in an attempt to rescue her. His plan is clearly to sneak in unnoticed, grab her, and sneak out. Even after seeing her strung up, at no point does his plan seem to change… Until she dies. In that moment, his mom, the epitome of his failure to free all the slaves, has just taken her last breath. He is completely alone. His mom has practically been slaughtered. His mom. Thus, his trauma hits a breaking point, and his usual support system is out of sight. 
He snaps. 
It is his choice, yes, but it is the result of a decade of abuse and generational trauma. It is also very much a mistake/accident… In other words, it is not an example of his true values and beliefs; it is an example of their temporary absence.*
*Evidence supporting this is in the scene with the line “to be angry is to be human,” but that’s a subject that needs its own whole ass post. I’ll link it later if I ever write it.
Example #2, the Jedi massacre. There are so many posts on the subject already that I'm not going to spend time detailing every single instance in which Palpatine isolates Anakin or manipulates Anakin into isolating himself. But a brief overview: sowing distrust in the Jedi Council, creating a narrative of deceit around the Jedi Order, orchestrating events to get Obi-Wan dead/offworld, and associating the dark side of the Force with Padme’s presence (via suggestions that only a Sith Lord can save her). With that, Anakin's entire support system is crippled. Unlike in AOTC, he is surrounded by loved ones, yes, but they can’t help him. By Palpatine's design, Anakin eventually bars each of them from entry.
Meanwhile, Palpatine is putting his trauma under extreme pressure and manipulating the shit out of him. Starting on the Invisible Hand itself, when Palpatine encourages Anakin to kill Dooku.* The movie explicitly connects this scene to the sand people massacre, which immediately establishes an awakening of old trauma. Wounds reopen, and Palpatine presses on them and he presses on them and he presses on them. Padme’s looming death becomes the symbol of his past trauma (of what he failed to protect and what he did as a result). And through Palpatine’s misinformation campaign, the Jedi become the perpetrators of this trauma, rather than the support system.
*For reasons beyond the scope of this post, I do not consider Count Dooku's murder to be an example of Anakin crossing an unforgivable line. I consider it to be an example of Anakin making a bad call. Even so, one could easily argue that his support system was absent and that his pressure points were being targeted in this scene, too. But I find that argument uninteresting because it doesn't apply imo.
Still, Anakin resists. Still, he tries again and again to retain his ideals. He seeks advice from Yoda. He listens to Obi-Wan's feedback and apologizes. He opens up to Padme. He initially rejects Sith Lord Palpatine. He tries to do the right thing by telling Mace Windu and letting the Council handle things. Because that's who he is--that's his true nature. Anakin is alone in the Council chambers (no support system) when Palpatine taunts him with Padme's inevitable death (trauma). And still, he resists. He races to Palpatine's office, but does he immediately kill, dismember, or otherwise attack Mace Windu? No. Even as Palpatine continues to press on his trauma (“I have the power to save the one you love!”), Anakin tries to reason with Mace. However much he is rationalizing the truth to his benefit, he is still trying to get out of this trap. He even admits the core of it in the end: “I need him!” Even then, even when Mace rightly goes for the killing blow, Anakin is still resisting! He attacks, he dismembers, but he doesn't kill. He makes an impulsive, ill-thought-out, almost reflexive decision (supported by the horror in the line “What have I done?!”). It’s as if Palpatine has shoved him right up against that unforgivable line, and Anakin is using his last inch of space to not teeter over it. 
Then Palpatine kills Mace Windu. In his mind, Anakin has nothing left after that. In his mind, he is responsible for getting Mace killed (trauma), and he doesn’t see how the Jedi can possibly forgive him (no support system). In his mind, his wife is dying (trauma), and he is alone in the presence of his abuser (no support system).
He snaps.
Unlike in AOTC, this does not happen by accident. These events were deliberately and continuously manufactured by a Sith Lord with an agenda. Palpatine directs Anakin’s explosion onto the Jedi Order, where Anakin compounds upon his trauma with more murder and more death. He becomes isolated to Palpatine's manipulations by killing (or enraging) his entire support system.
Afterward, Palpatine has all of the fuel he needs to make Anakin snap and snap and snap, over and over, for a very long time.
Who is to blame is such a boring, irrelevant question when we have such a fascinating character. The prequel trilogy gives us a complicated villain who is simultaneously the executor of such horrific violence and also the boy who wanted to free all the slaves. A villain who kills a part of himself every time he kills another. A villain who is so horrifically victimized even whilst he commits his terrible crimes. And because it's fiction (aka the victims of his actions are narrative elements, not people), I'm allowed to feel unashamedly devastated for him. I’m allowed to see the truth: that Darth Vader is only the suit he wears. The mask concealing the good person underneath. The Jedi Order was Anakin’s family, too, and you should feel sorry that he lost them. You should feel sorry for the way he is abused in ROTS. Darth Vader doesn’t represent who Anakin is or what he believes, and blame is irrelevant to this truth.
Because support systems matter. They matter to people who have gone through trauma. Yes, sometimes they are even the ONLY difference between the choice to do good and the choice to do bad. Sometimes, all that is necessary to prevent a heinous crime is to help them before they snap. I think people are uncomfortable with Anakin because that kind of helplessness is a really hard thing to admit. It's not fun to realize that you could have made similar choices if you had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong person. Research has shown people greatly prefer to attribute their accomplishments to their own actions and choices in life. It makes sense. The realization that external factors may have played a role in everything we take pride in is scary--but this fear leads us to the bias that we could never become Darth Vader. Even if we were raised as a slave, even if our loved ones were taken from us, even if our sense of reality was being manipulated and distorted--somehow we would not be broken. We would remain Anakin Skywalker.
It's a comforting fantasy for people who have done nothing wrong.
As someone who is human, someone who has made mistakes and bad calls and who regrets the times I might have crossed lines, I find a lot more comfort in the message George Lucas provides. The prequel trilogy is a story about the harm someone (anyone) can do if they're not careful. Anakin becomes Darth Vader not because he’s innately evil but rather because he’s under extreme pressure and no one is able to help him. In contrast, the original trilogy offers compassion and an opportunity for self-forgiveness. Darth Vader chooses to become Anakin simply because one person looked at what he'd done and said, "Stop. This isn't you." In the face of how helpless and dangerous every one of us can be, I find Anakin’s story to be really meaningful, and I wish more of us appreciated it.
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Nightmare | Johanna Mason
Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (District7!reader)
Summary: The past still haunted you, but it could kill you if you lost her this time.
Warning/s: light angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of Johanna's torture, nightmares, panic, tears, Johanna's ax, short fic, this is honestly more like a short blurb (I'm sorry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: I wrote a fic that contains this concept, too. It's called District 7, so if you want to go check it out. Enjoy!
Request -> Hi :) can you write Johanna x fem!reader where the reader wakes up from a nightmare that Johanna dies or something and Johanna isn’t in bed. Reader is panicked and has a meltdown searching through the house to find her. Johanna ends up coming into the house (Johanna was just chopping wood outside or something because she was having a hard time sleeping because trauma) to find her on the floor in total distress. Just need two traumatized girlies to find love and comfort in each other 🖤
Thank you 🖤
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The nightmares were never-ending. They plugged into your every dream depriving you of the much needed comfort and calmness.
Even now as you slept, tightly wrapped up in the sheets, an additional blanket that Johanna threw over you in fear that you would be too cold, practically disappearing from the amount of pillows, the nightmares left claw marks deep in your soul and mind, not letting you rest.
You saw yourself in a crystal clean room, the whiteness leaving the painful reminder of the white roses that now, thankfully, dead Snow always carried everywhere he went. You whipped your head around at the painful scream that ripped itself through your ears making the painc in your chest start to rise. Your breath shortened and quickened. You felt like you couldn't breathe once you got the glimpse of what was happening in front of your eyes.
Johanna's tortured body was laying on the bloody table, all sorts of to you unknown medical tools surrounding your lover. She was tied to the table with at least five belts, stripping her of the ability to escape the horrors that caught up to her.
You ran as fast as you could, trying to reach her as you continued to desperately call out her name over and over again like a record player. But you saw yourself hit something invisible, blocking your way to your loved one. The force field. The realization and the sight of Johanna's torture caused you to continuously bang your hands against the obstacle on your way, separating her and you.
Your screams mixed with Johanna's and you felt so suffocated, you felt like you were dying. Just like Johanna was. And there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn't move, you couldn't help her, you couldn't stop her everlasting torture. You couldn't take the pain away. No matter how much you wished to do so.
You woke yourself up from all of the screaming, your hand immediately reached the sheets that covered the other side of the bed. However, your fingertips found themselves grazing the coldness of the empty space in the bed.
You immediately kicked the sheets off of you, trying to escape their hold and the comfort that they never gave you unless Johanna was there with you. And she wasn't. Johanna wasn't here.
You frantically searched the house, looking at every room in the house, calling her name in pure distress.
You searched every corner and the time seemed to stand still, increasing your hysteria.
Once you finally reached the kitchen, finding it empty, you felt yourself falling. You slid down on the floor, your shoulders shaking as you cried. Your breath short, but quick nevertheless. Just like it was in your dream.
And perhaps Johanna is actually dead.
The everlasting dread filled every inch of your body as you realized that maybe your dream wasn't a dream, maybe it was your reality. The reality you were forced to live in. Maybe Johanna never made it out of the Capitols clutches. Maybe she died on that table. Maybe she never left that white room while she was still alive. Maybe she never left it at all.
Your panicked crying and the beating of your heart that reached your ears were the reason why you didn't hear her enter.
Johanna was in complete shock as she stood frozen by the doorway, watching you have a mental breakdown. She loved you more than anything, she loved you more than life itself. That's the reason why she immediately understood what was going on with you.
"Y/N!" Johanna called out as she quickly fell down on the hard, wooden floor as she immediately brought you into her arms.
"Johanna," You heard yourself gasping as you gripped her arms that tightly wrapped themselves around you. "You're alive. You're here."
"Of course, sweetheart," she answered, cooing you as she started to slowly sway both of you. "Where else would I be?"
"I-I had a nightmare," You began, your voice still being overpowered by your sobs. "I had a nightmare where you...y-you d-di-"
"Shhh," she shushed you, placing a delicate kiss against your forehead lovingly. "I'm here. I'm okay."
"You're okay."
"Yes, brainless," Johanna chuckled lovingly, looking down onto your face, her, now freshly grown, bangs brushing against your cheeks. "We're both okay. I'm never leaving you. You're not that lucky."
"Johanna I swear to God!"
->
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TAGLIST:
@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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lostamongthestarz · 1 year
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Both seeing and absolutely LOVING how you write for Miguel, I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is a single parent and due to whatever unknown reasons can't hire an actual babysitter, has to bring their kid to work at times or leave them in HQ. Knowing and being highly aware of Miguel's past trauma, the reader tries their damned hardest to keep their toddler away from him, but it ends up being futile as the kid loves Miguel more than life itself. It gets to the point where the sounds of a crying child were practically engraved in the reader's mind. One day, however, the reader is sent on a very hard-core mission and asks Peter B if he'd think a play date between Mayday and their child would be alright up until Miguel offers to watch them. At first, the reader would be a bit hesitant, but wanting to trust Miguel, they handed their kid to him and said goodbye before going into another dimension. The rest is up to you, such as making it an actual fic or just headcannons. I was just desperate for something like this because why the hell not
Miguel o'hara x single-parent trans!male reader
Miguel being soft has a spot in my heart 💞💞
Tws//none all fluff 💞
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❗❗Female readers are on thin ice but don't fetishize my writing, I write these headcanons for my fellow trans men ❗❗
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
Anon your brain is huge
Your a single dad trying to balance being apart of the spider society while also making sure your toddler has a decent life
you do your best to keep your child out of spider business when your at HQ and definitely make sure to steer clear of miguel knowing his past
So this entails you having to keep a distance from miguel, its not that you don't like miguel it's just that every time you two are chatting your child holds their arms out towards him, miguel cocks a eyebrow and you have to apologize while trying to calm your child
So imagine the shock when your sent out on a high stakes mission- before you have to leave you stop by and talk to Peter B- asking him if a playdate with mayday and your child would be alright only for miguel to pop up and say he'll watch them like so
"I'm sorry- can you repeat that?"
Your eyes were wide- you didnt know if you had heard miguel correctly the first time he spoke
"I'll watch them for you while your gone, they'll be protected and safe I promise"
You were hesitant at first, you held your child in your arms, whispering a goodbye before you handed them to miguel- who held them with such care.
When you did leave miguel practically kept your child in his arms at all times, no one else was allowed to hold them. Peter B was allowed but only because of mayday-
When your toddler did start crying, the others were worried but they were surprised when miguel manged to calm them down with soft humming and him rocking them in his arms. Peter definitely has a picture of that he showed you when you got back
Miguel actually cracks a smile when he sees how peacefully your toddler is sleeping in his arms, would glare at anyone being too loud around them
When you return from the mission miguel gives your toddler back as if nothing happened, Hes not opposed to babysitting them for you again thought
Plus you also get to see the videos and pictures peter b took of miguel being a softie
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
Soft dad miguel is so much cheaper then therapy
My requests are open <3
My inbox is open 💌
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obxsummer · 1 year
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Dreamcatcher // JJ Maybank
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pairing: jj maybank x gn!reader
request: “I broke the lock. You were screaming.” and ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜ with jj? gn!reader has been having nightmares every night since the treasure hunting started, and its the first night back in obx after poguelandia and they have a really bad one, and jj is there to help? of course, only write it if you want to, your writing is beautiful! lots of love <3
warnings: nightmares, creepy wound descriptions
a/n: y'all i have no idea why the links are going to the browser the way they are but I'm hoping tumble fixes itself here soon
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#obx3celebration
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Your time in Poguelandia was hard. Learning how to survive off the island around you was rewarding, but also terrifying. What if you ate something poisonous or someone got seriously injured? Each day got a little bit easier than the one before but you couldn’t lie and say it was a vacation. 
You were glad to be back in the OBX. Although it sucked living back here on your own, it was nice to be back in your bed and to know what exactly you were surrounding yourself with. JJ followed along with you after coming back to an eviction notice on his door. You were more than happy to offer up the extra room in your home, grateful to not have an empty house. 
You’d grown up alongside Sarah Cameron and the Kooks, easily becoming one of her best friends over the years. Eventually, you were dragged into the chaos and solidified your Pogue friendship with Kie, JJ, Pope, and John B. They were your best friends, your steady pillars in a rocky world. Of course, jumping off a boat in the middle of the ocean wasn’t on your bucket list, but you’d do anything for them.
Nothing brought people together better than trauma bonding, of course. In the past month, you and JJ slowly inched closer. Both of you had nobody to return home to and nowhere to be. He was lost and you were broken; two puzzle pieces that oddly fit together. 
JJ was crashing in the guest bedroom, having showered and fallen asleep quickly after the two of you got dropped off. You took your time to get to bed, knowing as soon as you sat on the mattress, you’d be out for hours. 
You didn’t know where your parents were, opting that maybe they never even knew you were gone in the first place. You were quick to find a spare phone and get it set back up in case the Pogues reached out with any news. 
The dark and quiet of your room was intimidating as you lay there on your back. You were so used to the crackle of a dying fire, or one of your friends snoring. The moon almost always cast a light around you as well and the sound of the moving ocean was calming. 
It wasn’t obvious when the dark of your ceiling turned into the dark of your dreams but suddenly, you were back on that island. The sky was black above you with flashes of light from a nearing storm. Turning around, you quickly realized you were alone. You tried not to resort straight to panic but it was hard to do, especially here of all places.
Your feet moved quickly through the terrain as you attempted to make your way back to where you knew your camp was set up. “JJ? Sarah! Hello? Anyone!” Your voice was scratchy as you yelled in hopes that someone would hear you and call back.
Fear bubbled in your chest when you couldn’t find camp. Everything was gone; Sarah’s woven baskets, the fire JJ had built, all of the food you’d surfaced, everything. Everyone.
“Someone! Hello!” You spun towards the open water, the liquid black with the night. You were stranded by yourself, with no way home. No friends to help you. “Help, please!”
“Looking for someone?” The voice of Ward Cameron grabbed your attention instantly. He faded into view, covered in blood, and looked like he meant revenge. “They’re all dead. You killed them.”
“What are you talking about?” You mumbled in confusion. Your eyes dropped to your own hands that were covered in dark red, the liquid practically dripping off your fingers. “Where are they?”
“You’re the reason we’re dead, Y/N.” A hand landed on your shoulder and forced you to spin. John B’s figure was standing in front of you with a noticeable bullet wound in his chest. Blood seeped through his shirt as Sarah walked up behind him with a similar wound in her hip. 
You shook your head drastically, choking on the air in your throat at the sight of them. “No, no it wasn’t me! I-I don’t even-”
“We told you you weren’t cut out for this,” Kiara’s voice interrupted your desperate pleas as she moved into your vision. “You didn’t pull me out of the airplane, Y/N. Why didn’t you pull me out?”
“Stop!” You sobbed as you backed up to put distance between the three of them. This couldn’t be real. You swore you’d never let anything happen to any of the Pogues.
A sickening laugh came from next to you where Cleo and Pope were standing. Their clothing was smoking, almost ashy in nature. “It’s real,” Pope snapped to confirm your thoughts. “You didn’t save us. You said you would save us from the fire.”
Your body heaved at the sight of all of them, so damaged and lifelike in front of you. “No! I wouldn’t have let anything happen I-”
“You caused all of it.” JJ was suddenly right in front of you, bruises littering his body as blood smeared from open wounds. “You watched as my dad ended my life. Didn’t even move, didn’t flinch. You watched all of us die, Y/N, and you didn’t even try to stop it.”
“Now it’s time for us to bring you with us.” Kie’s grin was devilish as they all surrounded you. “Actions have consequences.”
“Y/N! Y/N, wake the hell up!”
You gasped air into your lungs and sat up sharply as the vision faded to nothing. You blinked tears from your eyes and folded over to get oxygen back into your body. Someone’s hand was warm on your back as they rubbed comforting circles.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” JJ’s voice sent chills down your spine. It was a stark contrast to the vicious, cruel tone you’d witnessed just seconds ago. “Just breathe. I gotcha.”
It took a moment before you could sit back up. You had become too aware of how cold your body was, no doubt from the sweat of whatever nightmare you’d just lived through. “What…What happened?”
“I broke the lock,” JJ admitted as you collapsed into his side and shivered. He cradled you against him tightly. “You were screaming.”
“Sorry, bad dream,” You apologized roughly. Your fingers were clenching the comforter harshly. It felt too real like he would disappear from beneath you in a split second and you’d be facing the consequences of something you caused. 
JJ could feel you shaking in his arms. He’d barely gotten any sleep himself, so the second you cried out he came flying. It was hard not to assume the worst automatically. He’d watched you put on a brave face for so long and a break was inevitable at some point. He just didn’t expect you to scream the way you did. He didn’t hesitate to kick your bedroom door in and run to your side.  
“Do you wanna talk about it?” The question was soft and felt optional for you to agree to. 
You shrugged in his grasp, mumbling a thank you when he handed you the water from your nightstand. Nightmares like this had been happening for a while, ever since the treasure hunting started really. You’d dreamt through most of your memories but through a horrific lens instead. The only person you ever told was Pope, who had told you of similar instances himself. You guys went from being kids who fucked around for fun to life-and-death situations around every corner. 
 “It’s just like…ever since we started looking for the gold, these nightmares have gotten worse and worse. The scary part is they’re all very possible of being true. Of you guys getting hurt or-or worse? And I can’t even stop it, I’m just forced to watch it all unfold until I lose every single one of you.”
JJ was quiet as he listened to you speak. The wavering in your voice as you recounted what you’d seen made him even more upset that you’d dealt with this for so long. It was no secret your friend group got up to mischievous plans, but to know that it was at the point where you lost sleep over the idea of not having them was heartbreaking. 
“It’s all over now,” JJ reassured as his thumb brushed at your cheeks. “Promise. Nothin’s gonna happen to any of us. I wouldn’t let it.”
His words didn’t bring as much comfort as you would’ve liked. Nothing ever really did until you saw each of your friends in front of you and were able to hug them. That’s the only way it ever felt real like the bad dreams were nothing compared to having them around you. 
Your phone flashed 4:22 am back in your direction as you skimmed the notifications. You’d have to wait until it was acceptable to call everyone or gather them up to see them. You let out a defeated sigh, “Thanks, J. You didn’t have to come in.”
“Course I did. Gotta make sure you’re safe,” His response brought a smile to your face as you finally pulled out of his embrace. “Do…Do you want me to stay?”
You took a second to consider his offer before shaking your head and moving away from him. “I’m probably gonna stay awake and I don’t want you to have to-”
“Y/N.” JJ grabbed your hand to pull your attention back to him. “Just answer the question.”
You stared at him for a moment, your teeth digging into the skin on the inside of your lip before you nodded in response. JJ didn’t hesitate to wiggle under your sheets. He was a heavy sleeper so it would likely be easy for him to slip back into a peaceful slumber while you tossed and turned the rest of the night.
“Lay down before I drag you to sleep myself,” His voice was raspy as his fingers tugged against your t-shirt until you gave in and shuffled down next to him. JJ’s hand was warm as it reached across your frame to grab your right him to pull you closer until your chest was against his. “Just try, I gotcha.”
You adjusted so your head rest against his chest, fingers brushing his shirtless side before you settled in. Your busted doorframe could be fixed in the morning. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were still exhausted and JJ’s warmth was taking over as you listened to his steady breathing fill your surroundings. 
“Promise you’ll be here in the morning?” You whispered shyly. Part of you hoped that was enough nightmares for the night but you didn’t wanna jinx yourself.
JJ’s blue eyes blinked open as a small smile formed across his face. His arm moved until his fingers grabbed yours from his side so he could hold them closer. If this was how you had to spend every night from here on out to keep the bad dreams away, he’d chase them until he couldn’t anymore. He’d do anything to make sure you were okay.
“Gonna be right here when you open your eyes. Promise.”
--
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agent-cupcake · 11 months
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Sugar
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Pairing: Zenos yae Galvus x f!Reader Kink: Cockwarming Tags: Explicit, size kink, dub/noncon, blood and gore, pain, trauma, dark Word Count: 3k
In third place we have the crown prince himself in a story that took a darker tone than anticipated because more than anything sexual, I fetishize suffering and Zenos is a toughie to write. Enjoy :D
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At first, you believed it was a kind dream. A gift after the horrible week you’d had. Dreaming of a man, a head against your chest with hair that was silky against your skin. A warm, solid body entwined with yours, practically a wall of firm muscle. A suggestively hard press against your thigh. Skin against skin, nothing between you.  
You should have known. You weren’t deserving of a kind dream.
But you realized that slowly. The pillow was softer than your own. As was the bed. Certainly not yours. And the blond hair and ridiculously solid body and fancy room all built up into a fragmented memory of who you had been with the night before. As soon as you fully understood that it wasn’t a dream, so too were you given a vague concept of what had happened. Blood. Terror. Violence meeting violence, life mingling with death until the two were inseparable. Instinctively, your whole body jerked away from the embrace, trying to untangle yourself from him. 
Zenos made an irritated sound, his arms flexing to force you back into place. It made you realize that the position wasn’t so much like cuddling as he was using you as an extra pillow. 
“I do hope you’ve a good reason to wake me,” he said, his voice husky from just waking up. The way it rumbled against you only further solidified the reality of your situation, absurd as it was.  
“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” you finally said, hoping that was the right answer. 
“It is too late for that,” he said, though he didn’t move, his head remaining pressed against your chest. An agonizingly long time passed in silence. You didn’t dare move again, although there was no chance you would go back to sleep. Zenos finally groaned, a low noise that went straight to your core, made you that much more aware of his cock against your thigh. “Your racing heart beats to a most enticing rhythm. What passion do I hear pounding within your breast now, I wonder. Fear? Anger? Excitement? Do you yourself know?”
“I… don’t,” you answered honestly, barely aware of his question. Shock was a drug unto itself, although you had never felt its effects so profoundly. The whole night was enshrouded in the heavy velvet of a nightmare, although not so much that you could forget the rush. Whether or not that applied only to the sex, you didn’t know. There were a lot of things you didn’t know. 
Zenos hummed, releasing you to roll onto his back. You twisted away immediately, pulling the sheet up to your chest with a death grip. Moving hurt. Everything hurt. Not to mention the way the shift caused your head to spin. There was no way to discern the time, not with thick blinds drawn over the windows. There was enough light for you to see the prince. Zenos stood out against the dark bedding, a beacon of porcelain and spun gold. He laid on his back in the center, a muscular arm curled beneath his head. Even with one leg bent up and the sheet providing loose modesty, his erection was obvious. As were the stains. Stiff globs of dried cum, and blood. 
Everything was painted in blood. A world coated in red.  
You licked your lip, wincing at the fresh split, and the memories it brought. Blood’s tangy, sickening zing was all you could taste when Zenos’s mouth met yours. Your own blood, your lip had split pretty bad when the man punched you the first time. At first you thought Zenos was giving you a kiss, but he wasn’t that type. Maybe he was some sort of blood feasting monster like people said, he’d definitely had his fill of yours. 
“I have to go,” you said, shaking your head in denial, or maybe rejection. Too late for that. “Asina will be furious if I’m late.” 
“I won’t force you to stay,” Zenos told you lazily, “although I doubt he will gladly invite your presence. Not after the mess you made of his lab.” 
Your shoulders tensed, eyes squeezing shut. The mess you left was irreconcilable with reality. A sequence of bad comedy. No jokes, but there had been laughter. 
“You need not feign regret. I have seen the truth with my own eyes,” Zenos said. 
“The truth?” you echoed flatly, keeping your eyes closed. 
“A beast was responsible for that man’s death, not a girl,” he explained in a softly matter-of-fact tone. “It was exactly as I hoped. At the climax of your brutality, there was a flicker of something… magnificent within your eyes. Rage, hunger, the desire to sink your teeth into the neck of any man who would threaten you, to gorge yourself with his blood.”
“I was defending myself,” you said, opening your eyes. Why? To convince him? To plead with him? Zenos was clearly unimpressed.  
“Whatever motivation you believe justifies your actions does nothing to change what you are,” Zenos told you, grabbing the sheet to pull it out of your hands and away from your body. You didn’t resist as much as you should have, you didn’t know if you should, or if you wanted to. “It is by your deeds that you are defined and judged.” The ruined, silken fabric pooled around your hips. Zenos’s eyes dragged over the patchwork of bruises covering your torso. Some of them were from the fight—yes, it had been a fight—and some were from him. You weren’t sure which set caught his eye, had his tongue running across his perfectly pink lower lip. “And by your deeds that the debt of consequence is incurred. By all means, tell yourself what you will, live by the rule that has failed you, but know that you will pay.”
Of all the awful things to feel while sitting naked before the prince of Garlemald, listening to him lecture you about consequence, you were overcome with awkward uncertainty. Fear was more appropriate, you had every reason to fear Zenos. If you hated him, that would also make sense. The insecurity was unexpected, and unexpectedly crippling. He had watched you fight for your life and done nothing. Why? What business did he have in the lab so late at night? Why didn’t he help? 
But maybe you knew why. 
Maybe you didn’t want to. 
“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, meeting Zenos’s eyes. Beastly blue, void of compassion or empathy, you weren’t looking for humanity. You wanted a prince, a Legatus. “Tell me what… what I should do.” 
 “Sit astride my hips and impale yourself upon my cock,” he said, his head tilting sideways into the cradle of his arm. “Clarity did seem to come to you not long after I had sheathed myself within you.”  
A shudder worked down your spine. Even if you couldn’t remember anything at all, you would know that Zenos hadn’t been gentle. And the rest came to you in fragmented bits. He said he was pleased with you. That you were worthy. He folded you up with your knees to your chest and fucked you like an animal and you urged him on at every turn, panting and shaking and drooling like you were in heat. It hurt, it hurt more than it should have, but you relished the pain because it broke through the sharp glass in your head, giving you something. The pleasure had been a surprise then, although you should have expected it given how wet you were, wet enough to hear it, to add to the vulgar slapping of skin and helpless cries and the indecent coupling of beasts. 
You shook your head, trying to focus. Right then, you knew he didn’t care about what you felt. He was hard and you were here, you knew enough about men to understand that you were being used. 
“Okay,” you agreed, blinking fast to remain grounded. 
Zenos did nothing, simply watching you. Expectant. Swallowing down your nerves, you pushed the sheet off of him. He sprawled across the bed, completely naked with the same insouciant swagger he took to the throne room and the battlefield. Unfazed, as if it were all the same to him. Maybe it was, Zenos didn’t even move, although you couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback, your pussy clenching uncomfortably at the sight of his cock. At the size, really. It was one thing to feel the stretch, and another to see why you were so sore. He didn’t do or say anything when you wrapped your fingers around his cock, didn’t react in the slightest when you leaned down to wrap your lips around the head, getting his dick as slick as possible. It hurt your split lip and you could feel his impatience, but it was necessary. 
“I did not ask for your mouth,” Zenos snapped. You looked up at him, a strand of saliva connecting your lips to the flushed head of his cock as you pulled off. His eyes followed that, darkening ever so slightly. Like they had as he stood in the doorway, his eyes tracking a goopy chunk of something bloody as it dripped from the broken device you had used as an impromptu bludgeon. 
Then, before then, the lab was dark and you were putting files away for the night. You had no idea if the man was a soldier or a researcher when he came in through that doorway, only that he knew who you were and had sought you out while you were alone. To get rid of the interloper. Nobody liked or respected you, regardless of what you did, or how good you were—and you were the best, why else would you be suffered? All he saw when he came in with fire in his eyes was a savage who had taken something away from a pure-blooded Garlean scientist and, after the first punch, something in you snapped. 
Then, after then, Zenos stood there in the same doorway, and he laughed in delight.
Throwing a leg over his hip, you poised yourself above him, rolling your hips over the head of his cock to ease yourself onto him. But you looked down at Zenos, splayed comfortably across the pillows, and you remembered the sight of another man beneath you, his eyes bulging and face twitching as you hit him over and over again. Something had broken in his throat when you struck his neck. His screams gurgled painfully out of his chest with thick bubbles of bloody spittle, the sound wet and guttural like the creatures that gathered in dark sticky bogs. That’s what the air felt like too. Dense and humid and foul. 
You weren’t moving, so Zenos took hold of your hips and pulled you down. The pressure of his cock pushing past the sore muscles of your entrance and settling there was enough to make you yelp, your body jerking away instinctively, half caught in nightmarish memory. Zenos caught your bruised hips before you could, dragging you down a little further.
Breathe. Relax. What else could you do? 
“Sl-oh… Zenos,” you gasped, unable to be more articulate as you rolled your hips, trying to mitigate the stretching ache. 
The prince peered up at you from under those thick lashes with a smug smile. He looked so much younger like this. Not much older than you. Beautiful. Before last night, you didn’t interact with him. He supported Asina’s research, and therefore your own, but he was so far above you there was no point in considering his appearance. You slid further down his cock, jaw dropping unconsciously. You couldn’t tell if the ripping sensation was new or aggravating pain from last night, only that it was intense. Good or bad didn’t matter, there was something new within you. Need.
The man kept twitching even after all those disgusting foamy noises were silenced. You didn’t stop hitting him, even though enough brain had been battered out of his broken skull for you to know he couldn’t still be alive. Why was that? Why hadn’t you stopped? When Zenos laughed in delight, you laughed too. 
“Eyes on me, girl.” Zenos punctuated the statement by thrusting upward, using the grip he had around your hips to roll them, to grind you down more and more onto his dick. 
That easily, you cracked. It hurt too acutely, too intimately. You couldn’t help but whine openly, tears forming in your eyes at the pain of his cock cruelly stretching out your raw cunt. You met his eyes, felt his amusement. And you, ever the reactionary, met that with your pain, your fear, your disgust, your embarrassment, your despair, your need. Everything, exposed entirely. 
“There it is.” Zenos said, almost triumphant. “I knew from the moment I saw your mask of apathy crack that I would enjoy taking you. Those eyes contain such…. vivacity. You respond as if every pain were your first, every sensation a new experience. To have you stripped before me and your true nature bared, that was well worth the effort.”
There was nothing you could say to that, even if you had the capacity to form words. A little further and you could feel his low groan rumble in Zenos’s chest, feel the path the sound made before it left his parted lips. That made you tense up, your pussy squeezing his cock, soaking it a little more. Pinching, stretching, aching, you opened your mouth as if to scream, but you knew you couldn’t. Like your throat had been bashed in, all you could do was whimper.
“I don’t mind your pleasure either. If I were not able to feel it in the coiling heat of your loins, I would know it writ plain on your face.” Once he was as deep inside of you as he could possibly manage, he held you there. No grinding, no thrusting, just the disquieting sensation of your pussy trying to adjust around his length without moving. “Enjoy it. Savor it. These moments of ecstasy will fade all too soon, leaving you bereft and empty.” 
You closed your eyes, focusing on the weight and heat inside of you and not on the memory of an empty, bereft body beneath you. “Can I…?” you impatiently moved your hips, anxious for more friction. It hurt, but you couldn’t help moaning either. 
“Mayhap later. For now, you may rest your head here,” Zenos said, touching his chest. 
The intimacy of the position struck you as uncannily disquieting and you wanted movement, to not think. You weren’t about to argue with him either. Biting your lip to avoid reacting at all to the uncomfortable weight of him inside of you, you lowered yourself down onto his broad chest. When you peeked up at him, his eyes were closed, those long eyelashes dusting his cheekbones. There was no way you could rest like this, not when your entire body was hyper attuned to every place you were connected. It was all you could do to hold yourself together. 
“I envy you,” Zenos told you, his voice lower. “To feel such lucidity… Would that I could relive my first.” 
Your only response was a shaky breath. Feeling the rumble of his words, the minute shifts of his body beneath you, of your pussy squeezing and twitching around him, was more than you could bear. There was no place to go with the excess, not externally or internally. 
“It is… the purest of any pleasure. Though we do not know it, that moment is the most alive we will ever be. Hitherto, ignorance. Thenceforth, starvation.” Zenos sighed. “If not for that perfect moment of clarity, what path would I have found? What would be the purpose of this trivial existence? I recall the delicious give of flesh yielding to my sword, the warmth enveloping my blade as it sliced through muscle and organ and bone.”
His hips rolled upward. Not thrusting, just grinding into you. His cock was thick enough that even that small amount of pressure was overwhelming. You whimpered, nails digging into his chest, but Zenos didn’t respond. 
“But before that, I remember blood bursting, gushing out of wounds, creating a torrential roar in my ears. My own fear, my own pain.” As the enthusiasm in his voice picked up, so did the way he rocked you back and forth. “The pungent odor of true, deserved violence and death thickening feverishly in the air.” 
Zenos stilled, leaving you shaking—shaking hard. Could he feel that, buried so deep inside of you? Could he feel how you trembled all the way down into your rotten core? Your pussy clamped down around him and a heavy breath caught in your chest, a little sob you couldn’t let out. You had to keep and hold it all inside, to savor, to suffer.  
“Yet,” he continued in a softer tone, indifferent to your plight. “Those details are insignificant. It is the look in his eyes that I truly crave. There is nothing in the world that can be compared to a predator at its peak forced to realize the failings of its own strength. To be aware, finally, of one's life, and aware of how easily it could slip away. Mere seconds of living, framed by an endless deluge of monotony. To know, and to never find satisfaction again. Now you know as well, my poor little beast.” 
One of his hands traced down your back, his fingertips digging into each ridge of your spine until settling again on your bruised hip. A cascade of chills broke out across your sweaty skin in his wake, and another full body shiver. You didn’t respond, distracted by the weight of Zenos’s cock, the feeling of fullness, letting that center you, unmake you. His words were nonsense in your ears, although you felt like you understood their significance. You didn’t want significance. 
“Zenos,” you said. Whined, maybe, too impatient. “I want…” 
“I know what you want, girl.” His hips rocked up and you yelped, burying your face against his chest again. Zenos’s heart was beating. That was, for some reason, extremely strange to you. That his heart should be beating as any man’s would, and that it should be so steady, so firm. So unmistakably alive. “Tell me… Tell me what it felt like when you beat a man to naught more than chunks of skull and brain. Mayhap then I shall deem you worthy of a reward.” 
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What are your opinions on snarry?
Hi, thank you very much for asking, I hope more people ask what I think about other ships, Snarry in particular..... I don't like it and I have several reasons for this.
the age difference
veran Severus is 20 years older than him, oh 21? I don't remember, the point is that the age difference is huge for me.
He is the son of James Potter
Harry is James Potter's son, which in itself leaves me conflicted. I have no opinion of Harry, but I do of James. I hate him for being a bully and practically cheating on his wife about how he "grew up," demeaned Vernon and Petunia, and intimidated muggle police officers when he's supposed to be locked up because of the prophecy.
Oh, and don't get me started on Snape's worst memory, damn, that was UNFORGETTABLE AT ALL.
He is the son of Lily Evans Potter
you see, I don't like this character very much, I've already explained why but I'll say it in summary: the fandom, J.K Rowling's writing etc paint her as "the good popular girl who wants to be with the bully even though she knows he's a bastard and falls into the clutches of that bastard (James)" it is said that she is a good friend.... but she doesn't want Snape to defend himself, despite the fact that she knows that , although the marauders DO NOT use dark arts, she continues to defend them just because of that fact and calls Snape "obsessed with the marauders" uff That's a low blow for me.
He then doesn't ask Snape about the werewolf prank, doesn't question him if it's okay, just claims that "he should be grateful to James for saving him" and claims that's what happened, doesn't bother to ask any further questions, indicating that he doesn't really care.
Let's not talk about her lack of intervention in Severus' worst memory, she spent the whole time talking to him instead of asking if Severus was okay, Lily is a popular girl who could have tried to call someone to help her or if she's so smart she could have freed him or called a teacher if she was afraid that Sirius or Peter would attack her, she could even call Remus since he's a prefect! So many things wrong with her
Harry is the product of one of HP's most toxic couples
I don't think that Jily is a good couple, James made fun of Vernon Dursley, the fiancé of Petunia Evans, the sister of his wife Lily, bragging about riches that they do not understand being muggles, Lily does not intervene in that probably, which makes his relationship with Petunia break even more, with this point also James put Lily's life at risk by running away from home knowing that Voldemort is looking for him, he being hidden in an invisibility cloak and I firmly believe that Lily was making excuses for the (childish) behavior of her husband James Potter.
For me it seems like double standards when they say that using magic on muggles is horrible, but when James shows off his wealth to Vernon and Petunia it's okay (if these characters are detestable but they are still muggles, whether we like it or not)
Lily (even though I don't like her) deserves better than James Potter.
Why did you mention Jily in a post about giving my opinion of Snarry?
Simple, the mere creation of Harry would be a trigger for Severus, yes as a fan of Severus I am aware that Harry is not to blame for having been conceived by one of the most toxic couples in the Harry Potter series, but Harry himself would be a trauma trigger for Severus when remembering the face of James Potter, a character who... until now we do not know if he redeemed himself since he died at 21, but we have seen that Severus has a trauma when seeing Harry.
Severus would need a lot of therapy to be able to have Harry as a couple.
It would take a lot of therapy to heal his past traumas, to cope with them and not see Harry as an extension of James Potter but as an individual being.
Entiendo por qué a algunas personas les gusta Snarry: la dinámica de enemigos a amantes es muy interesante, tengo que admitirlo (como alguien a quien le gusta Snirius), pero no me gusta Snarry por estas razones, creo que Severus merece alejarse de la fuente del trauma (Hogwarts, spinner ends, etc.).
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karlachismylife · 19 days
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Juju's Masterlist
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god i love how they look at each other when i place pictures like this
Figured this might be needed! As I am planning to spam-reblog so much cool stuff...
Hi, I'm Juju (or Juju Starr more formally XD), 22 yo and in this blog I primarly write things on the rarepair I came up with, Karlach (Baldur's Gate 3) x Soap (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, reboot trilogy by default).
However, I also write things in both these fandoms with other characters, different ships (including other ships with Karlach and Soap), poly ships, x reader and x OC. There are NSFW ones and I will be checking every blog interacting with them, so minors and ageless blogs DNI, please.
Requests are open! Send in anything <3
*also I have no idea if I'm using the word blurb right, feel free to correct!
The masterlist itself is under the cut!
First mention of Karlach x Soap (a little overview of the ship dynamic)
I Might Have A Type (a post mentioning how the ship was born, trust me, there's concrete evidence of them being compatible)
All things Karlach x Soap (thoughts, fics, little ideas and concepts - simply sorted by hashtag)
Karlach x Soap fics
Morning Routine (blurb, fluff, 238 words) - Karlach, Soap and shaving
Birds of a Feather (blurb, fluff, 271 words) - Karlach and her dynamic with task force 141
They're Horny (blurb, smutty (NSFW), 228 words) - Karlach is horny and Soap is horny, but there's a difference (there's not)
Explosive Love (blurb, fluff, 105 words) - what it's like when you have a demolitions expert and a walking bomb on your team
Not Fair (blurb, angst, 457 words) - Soap is there when Karlach breaks down after the death of a certain bastard
Restless Fingers (blurb, fluff, 130 words) - one word: fidgeting
Scar Twinsies (blurb, fluff, 245 words) - surviving Hell and blowing shit up leaves similar marks
Practice Makes Perfect (drabble, fluff, 932 words) - something from Soap's weaponry catches Karlach's eye and he does not miss an opportunity for a date
Tactic Tactile Affections (headcanons, fluff, 764 words) - it's not just about kissing and fucking!
Baby Fever (blurb, fluff, 260 words) - can you imagine their babies tho (C)
Is It Visual Stimming or Is He A Romantic? (drabble, fluff, 945 words) - something about smouldering coal is just so mesmerizing... what are you looking at, Johnny?
Hey Skullboy (blurb, fluff w/angst, 467 words) - Karlach shares with Ghost not only his sergeant, but also trauma
Solar Eclipse mini-series (2 parts)
Total Eclipse of the Heart (drabble, fluff w/angst, 1286 words) - dog tags can be so many things, learns Karlach when she spots an unfamilar piece of jewelry among other alien things Soap brought from his world (part 1) Worshipping the Sun (drabble, fluffy smut (NSFW), 4201 words) - solar eclipse is beautiful, thinks Johnny when he looks at his circular dogtags blocking out the glowing light of Karlach's engine. He wouldn't mind seeing a thousand of those as soon as he gets a chance to make the little steel plates bounce on her chest (part 2)
Introductions (blurb, fluff, modern!AU, 105 words) - what Soap would call Karlach in modern!AU
Two of Us Wearing Raincoats (headcanons, fluff, partially suggestive, partially modern!AU, 2855 words) - requested domestic fluff, a lot of it!
Love Texting (blurb, fluff, modern!AU, 96 words) - what their texting looks like (Karlach is illiterate, Soap is Soap)
(Be)longing (blurb, suggestive fluff, 190 words) - Johnny and collars, am I right?
Bath Time (blurb, fluff, 246 words) - sharing a bath to save time
Karlach x Ghoap (Ghost x Soap) fics
Package Deal (blurb, fluff, 135 words) - tame one golden retriever, get one free
None Are Free Until (blurb/idea, angst w/fluff, modern!AU, 558 words) - anarchist!Karlach and everything complicated because of that
Call of Duty fics
Task Force 141 Ensemble
Their reaction to you playing datesim games (individual drabbles, fluff, partially suggestive (NSFW), no use of Y/N gn!reader-insert, 5073 words) - how do they find out and what do they think?
You're a character in their favourite game (individual blurbs, no use of Y/N gn!reader-insert, 786 words) - how do they approach you in-game?
The Queen of the Clan || Series masterlist (hyena shapeshifter!AU, no use of Y/N fem!chubby!reader-insert) - when you decide to shake up your life a bit and partake in a trip with a documentary crew, you have no idea that meeting an unnaturally friendly hyena and have it mark your backpack would be only the beginning of weird things to come. Whatever will you do when a leaderless clan of four male hyenas chooses you as their matriarch?
Soap
Rushed (blurb, fluff, 78 words) - what some consider rushed, Johnny considers almost too late
Mohawk Appreciation Time (blurb, fluff, mentioned Karlach x Soap but Soap-centred, 249 words) - I do not condone calling his mohawk stupid unless it's fully affectionate!
Emotional Support Dog (drabble, fluff, no use of Y/N gn!reader-insert, 1132 words) - when you're struggling with work-related stress, Johnny's there for support
I'm In Love 100 Times (drabble, fluff, no use of Y/N gn!reader-insert, 485 words) - when you look at Soap, you almost choke on your love for him, but he's there to rescue
Ghost
Now They Ain't Got a Prayer (drabble, hurt/comfort, no use of Y/N gn!military!reader-insert, 1479 words) - after a mission goes not like planned, there's a heavy feeling in the air, but there's something even heavier in your chest
Ghoap (Ghost x Soap)
Help! (blurb, fluff, 213 words) - thoughts on Simon Riley and The Beatles
Baldur's Gate fics
Dammon
Forged Under the Stars (drabble, fluff, no use of Y/N gn!reader-insert, 1157 words) - at the Tiefling Party Dammon comes over to sit with you under the stars
will be re-working this thing
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