#and like is having his blood a good thing or a bad thing they are getting confused. bc ace said before dying that he has a demons blood...

[sleepy-steve]

steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.5k // inspired by this post ♡

—

november 1983

It wasn’t a bad gig, as far as eternal work in the Underworld went. Eddie didn’t even have to row the boat. He was more of a figurehead. Someone for the souls to follow. Someone to guide them. Seemed like an odd thing to entrust to a dead eighteen year old from the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere USA, but Eddie wasn’t going to argue. Didn’t even know if he could. It had all gone very smoothly. All the souls doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Until Steve appears.

Eddie spots him sitting on the riverbank, knees pulled up. Looking a little too casual, in Eddie’s opinion, but he didn’t know the guy’s life. Some souls were more prepared than others.

“Hey, man, time to uh, get moving,” Eddie says, and cringes at himself. He’d already been spoken to about his boat-side manner. But how were you supposed to talk to people that had just died? Eddie still hadn’t quite worked it out. Was supposed to find his own words, instead of working off a script.

“Hm?” The soul looks up in mild surprise. He looks to be about Eddie’s age, and has a black eye, a split lip, and a nasty cut across his nose. Jesus, wonder what happened to him. It wasn’t polite to ask, Eddie’d been taught.

Eddie gestures vaguely at the boat. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the next part.”

“What happened to the last guy?” The guy tilts his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

“What?”

“The last guy who was on the boat?” The soul asks, waving a hand in the general direction of the boat. Even from where he stands, Eddie can see the bruises on the guy’s knuckles. “It used to be an older guy, tallish, beard…?”

“I… I don’t know, man.” Eddie flounders. He’d had some chatty souls before, but none that asked questions he wasn’t trained to answer.

“Hm…” The guy hums thoughtfully, nodding to himself. Shifting slightly, he settles into a more comfortable position.

“So…” Eddie stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised expectantly. “You gonna get on the boat or…?”

“Nah.”

“…What do you mean, nah?” Eddie asks incredulously. Was that even allowed? What would happen if a soul didn’t get on the boat? Would Eddie get in trouble for not collecting him?

“Not getting on the boat.” The guy smiles at him, a little crooked from the scar across his lip. “I won’t be here long, don’t worry.”

“What…?” Eddie trails off, before recognition drops into his mind. It was that smile, it reminded him of… “Steve? Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve confirms, brows pulled together in confusion. “Wait… holy shit… Eddie, right?”

“Yeah!” Eddie leans over the edge of the boat, bringing him as close as he dares. Close enough to see the blues fade into purples in the bruises on his face. The trail of dry blood still under his nose.

“You died, like, not that long ago, right?” Steve asks, not making any moves to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah, house fire.” Eddie waves him off, not wanting to dwell on the memories of his shitty father and those last moments where Eddie tried to save the few good things he had left. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry you’re here though.” Professionalism is out the window in favour of familiarity.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Steve waves him off back. “Like I said, won’t be here long.”

Eddie knows what this is. Denial. He’d seen it many times since starting this job. “Steve…” He keeps his tone soft, just like he was taught. “I know it can be hard to accept, but you’re dead. That’s why you’re here. You have to get on the boat in order to move on.” Steve is giving him a bemused smile, and Eddie feels a twinge of irritation. He’s doing his best. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise.”

“That’s… nice, man,” Steve says, slight grin still on his lips. “But I’m not getting on the boat.”

“Steve. You have to get on the boat.” Eddie throws his hands down to gesture at said boat, exasperated.

“No, I don’t.” Steve gives a little shake of his head.

“Get…” Eddie loses steam for a second before gearing up again. “Get on the boat, man.”

Steve just blinks at him. “I don’t need to.”

“Get on the fucking boat, Steve!” Exasperation is in each word now, Eddie losing his patience. If it wasn’t completely against the rules, Eddie would have jumped off the boat and dragged him on by the collar of his stupid sweater. The souls had to choose to move on.

With a glint in his eye and a half smile, like they’re in on some joke together, Steve still doesn’t move. “No.”

“You’re dead, man,” Eddie snaps. Fuck, he’s losing his cool and is gonna get told off for it. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Woah, woah, Eddie.” Steve holds his hands up. Placating. Another ripple of annoyance runs through Eddie. “Okay, just—I know I’m dead. But I don’t stay dead. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

Oh, okay. So Harrington is delusional. Eddie briefly wonders just how hard he’d been hit, looking over Steve’s bruises. Was this what killed him? Eddie holds back a grimace. “Just… get on the fucking boat, man. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. Also, I might get my ass handed to me if you don’t, so like, maybe do it for me?”

Steve laughs good-naturedly. Hopeful that he’s finally gotten through to him, Eddie can’t help but crack a smile at the sound. “So, s’that a yes?” he asks, keeping his tone light.

“Sorry, man,” Steve laughs. “Still a no.” Eddie slumps over the side of the boat dramatically, hair almost dipping into the black water. “But don’t worry. Last guy never got in trouble for not collecting me, so you should be fine.”

Pulling himself back up with an exaggerated sigh, Eddie settles with his forearms on the edge of the boat. “Okay, Harrington. I’m choosing to trust you,” he says, giving Steve a pointed look. “Can I ask…” Steve raises a brow. “What, uh… what happened? To you?” Eddie gestures vaguely at Steve’s overall appearance. The black eye, the cut across his nose, the split lip.

“Oh, this?” Steve points to the bruise. “This isn’t what killed me. Got into it with Byers. Not important, really, anymore…” He trails off before shaking himself. “This, though…” Lowering his knees, dropping his denim-clad legs to the grass, Steve reveals several deep wounds to his chest and stomach.

Eddie lets out a low whistle at them. “Christ, Harrington. You get attacked by a bear or something? We even have bears in Hawkins?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, I don’t know what this thing was. Some kind of alien-monster-creature. Face opened up all…” Steve holds his hands around his face, wiggling his fingers in a fan. “…creepy.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, Eddie isn’t sure if Steve is messing with him, or genuinely believes that a monster killed him and that he’s not going to stay dead. Eddie stays silent, assessing him.

“Anyway,” Steve clears his throat, awkward under Eddie’s stare. “Nancy and Jonathan are probably freaking out right now, I’ll have to explain when I wake up.” He’s rambling, Eddie notices with slight amusement. “Which should be soon, though this might be the longest I’ve spent down here. Last time was quicker for sure.”

“Last time?” Eddie asks, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Yeah, the, uh, car accident,” Steve says. “Got t-boned at an intersection, died on the spot. Woke up with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and this crazy head wound.” He waves a hand around the side of his head. “Got lucky, all things considered.”

“Right…” Eddie vaguely recalls hearing about Harrington’s car wreck from last year. But surely he hadn’t died. It wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.

“You don’t believe me.” Steve grins at him, and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at it.

“Can you blame me?”

Steve considers him for a moment. “No, I guess not.” His head turns sharply, as though he hears something that Eddie doesn’t. “Time’s up.” Steve stands, brushing blades of dry grass off his jeans. He gives Eddie a two-finger wave. “Until next time, Munson.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie leans over the side of the boat again as Steve turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Steve huffs a laugh. “Back.”

“Steve!” Leaning dangerously far over the edge of the boat, Eddie calls after his retreating form. He watches with wide eyes as Steve quite literally fades from view, figure growing more translucent until finally disappearing completely. Unable to pull his gaze away from the empty grass field where Steve stood just a moment ago, Eddie only has one thought in his mind:

What the fuck?

[curtins]

SO IT GOES — R. Sukuna

prologue. → newly-wed life is hardly what you expected it to be, its hardly a surprise. after all, how many people find themselves bound to the notorious king of curses? but after a frosty few weeks, sukuna finds the easiest way to win you over is when he's on his knees, and between your thighs.

pairing. ryomen sukuna x afab!reader

warnings. implied arranged marriage, sukuna-like jerkish behaviour that you might expect, softer ending, a bit of ooc sukuna and he's hardly an ideal husband but this is his version of trying, øral (fem! receiving), reader is referred to as 'little wife', questionable dynamics?

word count. 2.8k! song inspiration. so it goes — taylor swift, reputation a/n. up to u to imagine how reader ended up in this marriage lol

mp3. scratches down your back now, so it goes.

ryomen sukuna was not a being of great patience. as the king of curses, feared and revered for centuries, he had watched dynasties crumble, empires burn, and warlords kneel. but none of those victories compared to the relentless, quiet struggle he now faced: winning over his new wife.

it was absurd and annoying, really. why did he care what an impudent human thought of him? he had armies of souls quivering in terror before his throne, realms that chanted his name with bitterness and fury dwelling on their tongues.

yet, somehow, he found himself furious that you were as unimpressed with his power as you were by his world.

it gnawed at him, this strange need to see something other than disdain in your eyes. instead, he was growing sick of seeing you merely raise your chin, your gaze cold and unreadable, before turning and walking away, your robes trailing away like a splash of wine-red on stone floors.

and sukuna could only stand there, and scowl, with his arms crossed across his broad chest, resisting the urge to launch a column of fresh flames in your direction.

sukuna's first attempt had been bold, even by his standards. bolder than anything that a mortal like you ever deserved.

he had summoned the finest treasures from his vaults, gifts that would make emperors and khans grovel: strings of blood-red rubies, ivory combs carved with ancient spells, silks that shimmered like starlight under the cold nights. he had ordered them delivered to your chambers, confident these displays would thaw your indifference, for did women not clamour for such things in life?

yet you'd only glanced at them, a faintly polite look of thanks in your expression before you brushed the treasures aside, dismissing them as easily as the breeze stirred leaves in his gardens.

“it’s lovely,” you had murmured, your voice cool. “but unnecessary.”

unnecessary. the word irritated him, a thorn lodged too deep. unwanted. so he tried another approach.

the next evening, he brought you to his gardens — a place few had the honour of ever seeing.

it was quiet, twilight realm, with silver-petaled trees that glowed softly against the eternal dark. the air was scented with flowers that only bloomed under the moon, and shimmering koi would swim in ponds as black as polished obsidians. he'd assumed it would impress you, even move you to see such peace in a palace that was so fraught with the intimacy of blood, flesh and violence. instead, he felt all of his eyes twitch as you gazed around with a calm, fatigued expression, and nothing more.

"it's beautiful," you had admitted, fingers wringing under the long sleeves of your robe, but you had sniffled and looked back up at him with a mild grimace, "but i have really bad allergies to most flowers."

what the fuck were allergies?

later, he learned that it was some ailments that only mortals could suffer, one that would leave them reddened and swollen, gods be good.

sukuna could feel himself growing frustrated, and the urge to toss you in chains was welling up inside. yet, for reasons that he loathed to name, he fought it down. he didn't want you to leave, didn't want to watch you retreat into your shell yet again. but it was difficult letting the silence linger, this strange vulnerability settling deep within his chest.

and as night fell, alone in his vast chamber, the king of curses was ashamed to admit that he was brooding. if treasures and displays of tranquility meant nothing to you, what would? there was another avenue, one that left a curling, bitter pit in his mouth, a trait that he so loathed to display to all.

humility. how boring. how mortal.

but regardless, he appeared at the wide doors of your chambers the next morning. he had even relished the brief look of surprise on your face, but it was quickly replaced by the cool-glass mask that sat over your features once more. he must have made for quite the sight indeed — in his true form, two arms at his side, and the other two folded behind him.

sukuna didn't quite miss at how your gaze lingered over his vast form, and then your eyes twitched.

“today,” he announced gruffly, “i am going to make you tea. myself.”

how ridiculous, he could imagine uraume snickering to hell and back.

he half expected you to laugh or scorn him, but you simply raised your eyebrows, seemingly quietened and more curious. without waiting for you to decline, he led you to a quiet corner of the chambers, where servants tended to lay out such items, as part of a morning routine. there was a simple tea set, nothing adorned with gold or precious stones, but rather plain and finely crafted porcelain.

he waited for you to settle, watching as you arranged your thick skirts and tucked your legs beneath you. only then did Sukuna speak.

"i don’t like you," he said bluntly. "you’re ill-mannered and audacious. i’ve half a mind to send you back."

you blinked, her lashes lifting in surprise, and a small, satisfying crease formed between your brows before your expression turned into a scowl. "that’s rather unkind."

sukuna shrugged, eyes narrowed. "wouldn’t you say the feeling is mutual?"

you glowered back, unflinching. "you can hardly blame me. you’re a demon, after all. i don’t even know you."

"a 'demon' who has been exceedingly kind to you," he replied, his tone curt, clipped. "there are far worse fates that could have befallen you. i’ve been too amiable to a woman like you."

you had jutted your lower lip forward, your skin catching under your teeth, lips dark as cherries dipped in blood and wine, and for a brief moment, sukuna's ire faltered before refocusing.

"and you think kindness is stuffing me into fancy chambers and draping jewels around my neck? like i'm one of your prized and properly bred deer?"

sukuna leaned forward, arching a brow with lazy derision. "don't speak ill of my prized herd. but go on, preach to me of kindness."

your scowl deepened. "you haven’t even bothered to ask me a single thing about myself. showering me with material things isn’t how you make someone happy, much less a wife. the servants told me you forbade me from attending your court, and i'm left alone in this palace for days on end."

sukuna blinked, yes, he had forbidden you from attending court, but that was for both your dignities. it would be disastrous to expose you to the fools, murderers, and curses of his realm — a mortal bride, naive and untrained, would only appear weak and vulnerable.

"fine," he said, with a hint of resignation, and ridicule. "i’ll ask things about you from now on. would that make you feel better, little wife?"

he pushed the tea he’d prepared towards her, holding the porcelain cup in his hands. "now, go on. drink this."

your gaze remained cool as you eyed the steam brewing in the cup. "the first thing you should know is that i don’t like this tea, you picked the wrong leaves. you drink it, good husband."

sukuna resisted the urge to throw the boiling liquid at you, but instead he pushed the cup into your empty hands, "don’t be a fuckin' brat. behave and drink it."

you didn't say anything, but you shoved the cup back into his larger hands, and sukuna snarled, thrusting the delicate tea with a greater force than expected, and splash!

the silent tug of war had resulted in the bitter leaves being strewn across the heavy silk layers of your robes, and despite himself, sukuna couldn't help how his lips quirked upwards at your shocked, angry expression as you launched yourself up, flicking your sleeves in his face like a flapping bird, muttering furious, filthy words that not even a sailor would sing on his most drunken of nights.

as you stormed around the chamber like an angry parrot, sukuna watched you silently, and surely he could not be faulted for this. he would not admit this ever, but it was pleasing to rest his eyes on your figure, on your face, on the cling of your robes to the curve of your hips.

"go sit on the bed."

you whipped around, glaring at him. "i will not! stop telling me what to do."

"enough of being difficult, sit down."

now your voice had begun to falter, "i need to change my robes. this is improper if i'm to leave these chambers."

by now, he had stood and moved quick to the edge of the vast canopy bed, where you had perched yourself gingerly. close, all too close, where he could inhale the intoxicating scent of honey and mint, a fresh soap perhaps?

"i will determine what is proper, and improper," sukuna murmured, and there, for the first time in written history, the king of curses dropped to his knees.

and he relished the flush on your cheeks, a red brushstroke that had appeared as quick as a fallen star, running your skin awash with heat. you had peered down at him, squirming under his many-eyed gaze. and he enjoyed this, relished at bringing himself closer to her long skirts, until his hands found their place on your thighs.

"what are you — " your words trailed off, tone breathier, as he pawed suddenly at the silk, pushing it up, and up. revealing the stockings you had worn to combat the winter cold, where the hem clung to the fat of your thighs, and so close to the silk of your innermost garments that were now starting to feel like an awful suffocation.

"what am i doing? helping you, or is this not a manner of how a husband can treat his unruly wife?"

you couldn't help but feel a shiver run through you, a tremble pass through your very core as the world around you faded, and all you could focus on was the pair of warm, large hands that ran along your sensitive skin.

"ah, ah —," sukuna rumbled smoothly, lips quirked up a fraction, "we can't have you suddenly shy now, can we? had quite the mouth on you a minute ago."

you weren't sure where to direct your gaze. to the window outside, frosted from the cold hands of winter. to your hands, which lay at your side, rumpled up in your bundled skirts. or to the blush-haired king between your legs, whose carmine eyes were crinkled in feigned amusement, and darkened with undeniable lust.

he taps the plush of your thighs once more, watching as they ripple under the press of his fingertips, "enough being coy. spread them. i do not have all day."

it would not have been a falsehood to claim that a deeper, headier feeling lay in your abdomen, purring like a beast that begged for its maws to be free. undoubtedly, a puddle of slick would be pressing against the silk of your undergarments, like a translucent stain that created a darker, glossy patch between your legs.

but you did not budge, did not move your thighs further. you loathed to admit this to a living soul, but perhaps you found satisfaction in this. there was a sort of pleasure in watching a mighty being brought low, and close to the apex of your thighs. but it seemed that your husband's limited patience had worn thin.

his dark nails dug into your thighs brusquely, in a tight and unyielding grip, knocking them back as if he had no time to spare for anything else in the world.

"fuck you, you're so -," and then your voice breaks off, as the king of curses is pressing his tongue against the sleek, dampened fibres of your undergarments.

and it's oddly...pleasing for sukuna. how intoxicating. he runs his tongue between his teeth, catching around a fang as he fights back the realisation that this is no chore for him, not anymore. perhaps both parties in this room have their own vested interests now.

he pushes his fingers past the undergarments, where slender fingers find a home in the gloss that's practically leaking out of you, "i do not bore you so much now, do i?"

"shut up, - ah!"

he's practically twirling his middle and ring finger between your folds now, letting them run a smooth dance over glistening skin and it left you keening and whimpering, for he was so so close to where you truly wanted him, needed him.

but you need not even articulate this wanton request for him, for his mouth is back on your core, and he's clearly enjoying this without abandon, and without shame. strands of sweet slick splattered across his chiseled features, clinging to his lips but he seemed to care not, and you could only moan and squeal when his fangs made contact with more force that intended.

one arm has your thighs pinned back, leaving a clear space for him to slot his wide frame in between the gap, and another works to pump fingers between your tight walls. a mortal man may be exhausted to his limits in such a state, after all, what can one accomplish when limited by two limbs?

but your husband is no mortal man. a third hand has been running down your groin, past the hair on your mound and from there, a thumb right on your throbbing clit. you feel as though you forget how to breathe when his fingers waywardly flick around, and you cry out, the feeling leaving you breathless and your heart absolutely pounding for reprieve.

"so now she can behave," sukuna's voice is low, mocking and your hands find purchase in the surprisingly soft strands of his hair, pulling forward, as you can't help but get another jibe in.

"if only you had done, hah - this from the start," your voice curls up the sky, weak to your own ears.

smack!

a sharp and shrill cry left your parted lips, as the thick pads of his fingers had come pressing down on your swollen bud. and you could feel stars building up between your eyes, caressing you and taking your breath away.

sukuna looks pleased, mouth glistening and his crimson eyes narrow, "that will teach you to speak when you're spoken to, brat."

and you can only yank on his scalp harder, relishing in how you can feel his broad shoulder's jostle as you do so. your husband's face is flushed, brows furrowed and later you will wonder and marvel at just how intently he seemed to be enjoying such a task that he claimed was so menial and beneath him.

you pity the servants who will not speak a word, but exchange glances as they bundle up the sheets after this. for it's nothing but a syrup-laden mess by now, sloppy and purely wet.

by now the world has long disappeared behind you, in front of your very eyes, and you can only heave your chest towards the sky, rolling your eyes back and shamelessly giving into the wanton moans that bubble out from your lips.

and sukuna is nothing short of utterly satisfied. one look at his mouthy wife's expression, cherry lips parted in a perfect circle, and brows furrowed like a painting — like arrows leaving their bow and finding their target. you need to finish on his tongue, he needs you to finish.

so he pushes his face into your sloppy, sticky cunt even harder. he even lets you run your hands through his hair (a criminal offence, he is certain but perhaps he'll let you go, just this once). he almost purrs when your hands wander further onto his neck, leaving small scratches that almost make him release into his pants.

but now all his energy is poured into making sure you get your climax, that you submit to him and let him have you.

"are you close, little wife?" his voice is akin to gravel now, raw like each clipped syllable was a little too rough for the air to carry. and he only receives breathy whimpers in response, your hips moving off their own accord against his face.

and it's only when you jolt against him, stiffening and crying out praises to the heavens and to the gods, that he loosens up, and pulls you even closer, till your thighs are spread entirely at the widest angle they may reach, enough to leave the muscles in your thighs sore and aching afterwards, "there are no gods here, wife. you best get used to that."

and afterwards, you cannot help the bubbling, bashful grin that erupts over your bitten, stung lips as you peer at your husband who dutifully rests in between your thighs still, you could get used to that indeed.

"do it again."

[sahisan]

— curiousity killed the cat.

featuring . pm!dazai osamu.

tags . suggestive, so slight nsfw. civilian!gn!reader. dazai's a bit sick. just pmzai things yk (he's scary). weapons described (he has a gun). blood mentioned. gunplay mentioned (brief suggestive description). wc 1.8k.

author note . this is so random i don't even know if the paragraphs do well together bc i just poured my most random thoughts into it and i was sleepy and barely managed to proofread it. yep. i imagined mostly 20-22!pmzai here.

dazai hid many things. he hid them well; years of being on constant standby, awaiting, on guard about anything enemy or not related. he hid in the shadows no matter day or night, but the shadows didn't always necessarily mean him only scrambling around in narrow alleyways or in the safety of the headquarters—in reality, he spent little time in the latter, nor did he 'lurk in the shadows' often, unless on a mission.

he hid everything from everyone, including you; of course including you. and the thing that bothered him the most was you finding out about what he does. did. has done. keeps on doing every day. not only does he not want the port mafia's countless enemies to know about you, but dazai also dreads the thought of you getting even a little bit closer to the truth of what he does for a living. he thinks of how he might slip one day and just reveal his true nature, intentionally or not, and either let you be disgusted and scared or kill you immediately because you might report to the police; it bothers him in both ways.

dazai avoids the area of your home when out at work. he makes sure to put on some casual clothes before visiting your place. when things are bad, work routine and you colliding together closer to night, he makes sure to hold a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide in his inner pocket to quickly wash away the stains of blood from his clothes. he keeps a bit of cologne there as well, to hide the stench of blood he usually reeks of during the day—he doesn't even use cologne daily. if you need him right after work, he disposes of his weapons, giving them away to the underlings that follow his word.

everything is always under control.

like tonight. he'd had a "kill and dispose" assignment, after which he'd had to go to yours and spoil you with a movie night he promised you. ah, the long-awaited respite from everyday bloodshed.

yet he was still on guard; he always has been, but today was busy and rough and all he needed was your embrace and a movie as a background noise while he showered you with kisses and cuddled you with neverending hugs.

and dazai forgot.

already at your doorstep, already having ringed the bell by your front door when dazai looked down at himself and—

fuck.

there was a small but clear blood stain right next to his tie. ah. how great. he definitely won't have time to remove it, but he might try to win some time to divert your attention from it if you notice—and you will, if he doesn't do anything about it.

with the door opening, dazai threw himself at you, literally waltzing into your apartment, hip to hip, your left hand in his right and his left hand at your waist, he led you through the corridor in an almost hasty improvisation of a dance, causing his tie to sway just in the right direction and have you giving him a look that screamed "you and your antics again?". good.

"ah, you look especially divine tonight," he mused, nuzzling your neck and making you place your chin on his shoulder; very good, the stain was out of your sight at least for now, and he couldn't be happier about that. "i haven't had dinner yet but i already know what i want for dessert."

distract. distract and avert and keep away—best tactic of dazai's that rarely failed, and he was used to putting it to use everywhere he could, including you. you could be perceptive or gullible, didn't matter—it worked wonders on anyone and will continue working for as long as he wanted to.

dazai swayed you around a few more times, dancing his way into your living room while humming a nauseatingly sweet, random tune he made up in his head a second ago. hip against yours again, he let a content smirk wash over his lips.

a clank. soft, quiet sound of metal clanking once echoed through the room, and it was almost eerie silence aside from his barely audible humming just as his hipbone met yours.

that didn't sound good, considering the only thing on his hip was—

ah. dazai forgot two things tonight.

in reverie about cursing himself head to toe in his mind, he lost the sensation of your touch until it felt too suspicious and he was too late, you reaching for the side hem of his coat and tugging it away from his side to reveal it to the light. you were always so curious, and he couldn't tell whether it was bad or good for him in general.

the soft clink echoed once more as your fingers grazed the object, and his eyes narrowed. the gun. shit. in his distracted state, he'd forgotten to dispose of it along with wiping away the blood.

dazai's hand shot out from beneath the coat, and he knew he wasn't doing himself a favor by raising his hand to grab yours, only revealing the holster further, but he didn't necessarily give a shit right now. he ought to do more than care about the gun right now, like a proper boyfriend, first being calming you down and assuring you it's not loaded and isn't as scary as it looks and that you shouldn't be afraid and the second being change of course of the conversation so seamlessly that you forget about the weapon for the rest of the night at least (unfortunately, the last sentence never crossed his mind).

but when did dazai ever go according to an adequate plan?

his hand held yours in the air, palm gliding up and down your inner forearm, trying to, first, soothe every negative emotion that might come up on the surface of your face, as well as keeping your curious hand away.

"ah-ah-ah, how naughty," dazai purred, voice dripping with false sweetness even as his eyes glinted with dangerous amusement; what he was supposed to be doing absolutely slipped from his thoughts the second he sensed the quickening of your heartbeat and breath and the cautious halting and tensing of your body against his, and he was already getting hard just from this. sick. "what did i tell you about wandering hands, hmm?"

he ground his hips against yours once after that, letting you feel the growing hardness in his pants. distraction. that was the key. keep you focused on his body, on the pleasure he could give you, and you'd forget all about that pesky gun in no time.

“careful there, baby. wouldn’t want you to accidentally shoot yourself,” he said with a twisted, growing grin. his other hand, previously holding your left one, slid away from it to cup your cheek, thumb brushing along your jawline in a mockery of tenderness, visible eye looking down at your mouth.

"i'd hate to see those pretty lips marred by blood."

and yet, once he'd lifted his eyes up to yours, dazai could feel you tense under his touch, heart racing beneath your skin. he knew that look in your eyes, that widening of your pupils; he was all too familiar with it. fear. he had been so focused on the thrilling, twisted satisfaction the situation brought him momentarily, that he hadn't noticed how his actions were affecting you. his grip on your wrist loosened, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your inner wrist.

dazai sighed, deciding it was time to stop scaring you with both his demeanor and the weapon, even if it wasn't what he wanted right now at all; he had a switch to pull off, an appearance to keep up in front of you. ah, but how he'd love to prolong that moment for just a little longer: your fear palpable in the air, that scared glance you cast at him once, the trembling of your hands, hitch in your breathing and increase of your heartbeat.

maybe later.

"easy, easy," he murmured, voice low and soothing even as his mind raced. he tapped the holster twice. "it's not loaded, see?" a lie. "just a little souvenir," a lie. the gun was always loaded, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice, but you surely didn't need to know that. he'd already subjected you to more horror than a civilian would need to witness.

dazai leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "you know i'd never be involved with these types of things and would never hurt you, right?" honey-sweet, dripping with false sincerity words. what he was absolutely best at was lying and manipulating, and he couldn't even control it anymore; if he needed you to believe, he will make you believe, one way or another.

"but you also shouldn't go poking around where you don't belong," he purred lowly with an audible dangerous lilt to his tone, lips now moving lower and ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. "who knows what kind of trouble you might find yourself in. curiosity killed the cat, you know. you never know when you'll be the cat. and I'm not sure i'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

dazai could try to keep you away from his sicko tendencies and mind and thoughts that were all over the place and mingled together; the thoughts of protecting you from all of this meeting the ones of putting that gun to better use that just shooting people. and right now, he was barely holding it all in.

think of it this way: the thoughts of keeping his precious favourite civilian away from the corrupted knowledge and pain and feeling you tremble in fear underneath him, with the barrel of his gun tracing over your bare skin and getting dangerously close to where you'd need him most? oh, did the latter make dazai's stomach contort with desire and hips buckle up into yours. he would have to think more clearly about this later when his head wasn't a wreck of everything at once, but now...

"you want to play with something hard, baby?" dazai murmured in the end, all sultry and beaming with desire. "i'll give you something much better than a piece of metal to wrap your pretty fingers around."

dazai was sick and his mind twisted and he didn't get how he could ever keep someone like you by his side, but he supposed it was fate; and for as long as fate was merciful to him, he would make good use of it.

"but behave, hmm?"

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 12 - Next

"So we just have to wait a little longer... Here you go"

You were finishing explaining the situation to Curly while giving him his medicine, Anya was standing behind you grimacing in pain at the sounds the man made while swallowing.

Anya: "How is it that... Can you tolerate that?"

"What thing? The sounds? The burnt meat? The smell? The blood?"

You were mentioning while slowly and carefully removing the bandages from his body, the man trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to further discomfort the other woman present, but the bandages were almost stuck to his skin.

You were applying water little by little to be able to peel them off better, you had managed to get more drinkable water from the station, grateful for it since they had been without bathing or cleaning themselves to avoid wasting it for weeks now.

Anya: "Everything..."

"Well, I've been to many places, doing different jobs... I've gotten used to it."

When you saw the woman's horrified face, you realized how bad that sounded.

"I worked in morgues and crematoriums! Heavens... I didn't kill anyone."

Anya: "Seriously?"

"My dad owned a morgue and a crematorium, when I turned 18, he made me work, you have no idea how many times I had to clean my own vomit off the floor... or the corpses."

Immediately, she covered her mouth, almost vomiting at the thought of it, but you laughed at her reaction.

"That was exactly my reaction! I grew up with a strong stomach."

Anya: "How did you get here?"

You finished removing the bandages from the man, looking at his skin, you sighed knowing full well that you would have to clean it, pus was already forming in certain areas.

Anya, upon seeing that, had to turn around and hold her stomach, trying to think of something else.

"If you want to get into medical school, you have to watch this, no professor will have pity on you for having a sensitive stomach."

Anya: "I've already seen it without the bandages... But... Today they look extremely bad... I'm sorry..."

Upon saying that, she took a deep breath and turned back again, ready to help you clean her wounds.

"...I was in charge of the morgue in just a few years, and one day, while preparing bodies... I saw him, my father on the table in front of me, ready to be open and empty like any other corpse.. Three shots to the chest, some guys had robbed a store while he was in, he tried to be a hero defending the cashier, and they shot him. The thieves fled with nothing in their hands... I got depressed..."

You looked at Curly, who was watching you attentively while you told that story he already knew.

"I ran away from home... I started with drugs... and all kinds of things to get money... I went to my mother's house just to ask her for money or to eat something, I didn't care how much she begged me to stay... I just... I couldn't feel good again, and I was destroying myself to know that I was still alive."

Anya: "...How did you get out of that?"

"Because of this stubborn one"

You smiled at Curly, who soon looked away as if he weren't paying attention to what you were saying.

"He found me shoplifting in a store, and instead of turning me in, he bought the things I was taking and invited me for a coffee" you laughed, recalling that moment.

Anya: "Seriously?"

"Then he was looking for me all over the city."

Anya: "Did he want to see you again?"

"I stole his wallet."

You paused to laugh at the memory as well, before continuing with the story.

"But he insisted on keep meeting with me, on helping me, and I ended up falling for his kindness... I started living in his house, he was never around because of work, I got a job as a dog walker to have my own money while I was recovering, and he was always making sure I was okay... After years... Finally, I had the strength to see my mother again... And she felt relieved to see me well... Ugh, you have no idea the scene she made when she met Curly, so happy that i found a good man, I wanted the ground to swallow me up."

Anya: "That still doesn't tell me how you ended up as co-captain."

"...Five years ago... Curly recommended me, I did the physical and psychological exams, the training, and since I passed everything flawlessly, well... That's how I ended up here!"

You scratched your neck, smiling somewhat embarrassed that it wasn't a great story of how you became captain on your own; that was the plain truth of how you had ended up there.

You finished putting the upper bandage on Curly, ready to continue with the lower part.

Anya: "We're going to have to be careful with the catheter for this part."

Immediately, they heard Curly's complaints when they were about to remove the bandages from that part.

"Don't be like that, Curly! Anya was the one who has been changing your bandages, washing them, and put the catheter in for you; there's nothing wrong with her seeing you again."

Anya: "I think he doesn't want you to see him..."

She said a little embarrassed, you turned to look at Curly, speechless, not knowing what to say to him.

"Okay, no problem, I'm leaving."

You raised your hands to get up from your seat and leave that room. 

Anya: "You shouldn't feel ashamed, she'ss your wife after all, she'll see you again someday."

Curly shook his head slowly, he preferred that you see him again when he was recovered.

[royalarchivist]

Fit: It was a lot of fun being at the event on Friday, it was a lot of fun. You know, I'm very grateful for the Arkanis team for having Bad and I.

Fit: Although admittedly, it was kind of an annoying weekend in some ways, because I guess – I heard about this – apparently when Bad and I were doing our improv bit or whatever, a couple people on Twitter thought that it was like a jab at Quackity, which is insane to me because it was like... not related to his situation at all. And like, normally you ignore that kind of stuff, but it literally got so bad that I had to talk to Quackity this weekend, you know, and we– I actually just had to let him know, "Hey, just so you're aware, a couple people on Twitter think that this is a jab at you, but it's not" and he fully understood and whatever, but like... You know, I'm saying like, he's getting ready for his big announcement, like, that's like the last thing he should have to worry about, you know? Typical Twitter moment, they just take something out of context and they just run with it. But you know, it's all good, I'm very excited for his new project.

Fit: You know, Quackity is one of those people– he's one of the– He is one of the kindest, most genuine streamers that like, I've ever been in contact with. Like, after the Florida hurricanes where we had back to back hurricanes, he was one of the first creators to actually reach out to make sure that I was ok. Like, he's just one of the most kind, genuine people. So for people to think that like, we would be feuding is insane! You know what I'm saying? Like, people, they make up these conflicts in their heads, it's crazy.

Fit: So that was annoying, but yeah, it's all good. We all love each other. There's no bad blood or anything like that.

[sassydefendorflower]

Holy Server B@tman! Fanfic Rec List 2.0

Hello and welcome back to a very special fanfic rec list! 

The members of the amazing Holy Server B@tman! Server are an extremely talented bunch - many great artists and writers together in one place to foster each other’s creativity and joy to participate in fandom.

That has to be celebrated! 

So, please welcome a list of stories our writers loved to create, their very own Greatest Hits!

(please click on your own discretion - you’ll find the appropriate warnings on ao3)

Fujiwhara Effect by byrambles / @byrambles

Fujiwhara Effect: When two tropical cyclones spinning in the same direction pass so close to each other than they begin spinning around a common center. Or: Dick is NOT a fan of Bruce’s new kid (seriously, WHO brings home a new kid weeks after the old one moves out and then doesn’t even have the courtesy to tell – ). When he gets trapped in Gotham by an East Coast hurricane, though, he has to figure out how to be in the same room as Jason without losing it.

byrambles's words: This was so much fun to write! I think it has a sweet mix of angst and fluff — plus a silly little surprise part-way through!

The Lines that Bond Us by canaf_lilah

Reclusive author Bruce Wayne's most recent book, The Bat Man, was a critical success and a mass market flop. As he struggles to make sense of a sequel, he shocks no one more than himself when he brings home recently orphaned Dick Grayson. Bruce could never have predicted the impact on his life - and his writing - the remarkably resilient young acrobat would have. Batman and Robin may only exist on the pages of Bruce's books, but that doesn't stop them from saving the people they touch.

Lilah's words: to me this is by far the best fic I've ever written. I'm determined to finish it one day, but don't be too put off by the incomplete status! It works well as a standalone.

red like blood (they won't wash clean) by silver_the_phoenix

Tim snaps. It's a lot bloodier than he thought it would be.

Silver's words: I started this one because Tim deserves to go a little feral, as a treat; and I finished it because I'm a simp for Good Brother Jason Todd.

Cared For by 1Zukoneedsafamily2 / @trashcollectshere

Jason smirked as he stood over The Replacement. He stroked the feathers of the splayed-out wings, before he gripped a group of feathers and yanked. Not hard enough to pull out feathers but he wanted him awake when the fun started.

Krys' words: also everyone loves a tower fic right???

Brother, Go Find Your Brother by sleepingcreep (JaySgrech) / @misplacedspleen

Brother, go find your brother: A method of finding something lost by attempting to lose something similar in the same way, in the hopes that it gets lost in the same place and both can be found. “You should match, right?” The grin cracked wider as the lanky captor rolled the knife between their fingers, strolling closer to where Tim was pinned to the wall. Jason didn’t comprehend what the creep meant, too focused on trying to pull his hands against the cuffs in the right way to pop his thumb out of place to get free. There are many years of scars between Jason and Tim before they match.

Jay's words: I'm reccing it because I'm proud of how the settings turned out and I think I wrote a unique take on Jason and Tim's relationship

dirt piling up, putting me to bed by rutaceae / @applejee

Jason never imagined that a simple trip to a bookshop could end with him trapped in the basement of a collapsed building with Tim, but you don't often get what you imagined when you live in Gotham.

Luka's words: i’m quite happy with how contained this little fic is (for me); i always wanted to stab someone, and have someone else panic so bad they don’t realise they’re fucked up themself. fun times!!

Do-Si-Do's Churros & Other Curious Things About Love by sElkieNight60 / @selkienight60

Being a beta in a house full of alpha’s is rough. Especially if you’re trying to be heard.

Selkie's words: I like it because I really enjoy reading Platonic Omegaverse stories, and the Batfamily are so unrepresented here, (I say, in the meaning that I simply crave more of them, there are truthfully quite a few out there, but I just enjoy them so much).

Maui Melon Mint by motleyfam / @motleyfam

In the case of Bats vs. Stomach Bug, there can only be one victor.

Motley's words: I had a ton of fun writing from Damian’s POV for a change and letting Alfred wear his sassy pants

Writer's Cellblock by pinstripedJackalope / @the-ghost-of-jason-todd

Mystery writer and father to five, Bruce Wayne has no great fortunes to fall back on. No reserve of social charisma, no family jewels. He no longer has a butler, though Alfred does his best to visit regularly. He is, in short, not the kind of man who can buy freedom. Heck, he can barely make ends meet some months. So you can understand the… concern… he feels when, late one night, two FBI agents come knocking at his door.

K's words: ngl it was hard to pick a fic, and i would have picked one with more than one chapter but i always did think this one was kind of fun

Golden Silence, Golden Yolks by BabblingBookends / @babblingbookends

Words between Dick and Bruce have never been easy. Dick talks, Bruce doesn’t listen. Bruce talks, Dick is expected to listen. Better if neither of them speak at all.

Babbles' words: If you watch a TV show for long enough, there will inevitably be some character moments in a diner, and I just think that's fun, hence this fic!

keep your head up (it's a cruel world) by lookforanewangle / @lookforanewangle

“If the past is anything to go on, sir,” he says kindly, “this boy will be in your care for a good many lifetimes, and you will do all you can to keep him safe, just like you have with the others.” Or, the Batfam/The Old Guard reverse verse au with Dick's introduction to the world of immortals

Lyss' words: I put a lot of work into this one and while I know reverse verse isn't everyone's cup of tea, I think it works best in this universe in this order, with many surprises yet to come, and room for this universe to grow!

A Promise to Stay by xerzi / @xerziartblog

No one needed Tim Drake, but Tim Drake still needed to be needed. And well, who better to choose than the one person who could never stop needing him? So inherently broken that his job would never be finished. Yet so unfortunately resilient that he would never be left the sole survivor. And so desperate to serve that he would never be betrayed again. In other words, no one else needed Tim Drake, but certainly, he knew there was someone who could make use of his particular skill set. - Tim Drake, 12-year-old independent adult, professional birdwatcher, is offered everything he’s ever wanted…for the low, low price of his verbal agreement. All he has to do is say yes.

Xerzi's words: I just want to put Tim Drake in a jar and try to figure out what's wrong with him…so I put TWO Tim Drakes in the same jar so they can work together to figure out what's wrong with them (and how to fix it)

The End of Man by AuroraKant / @sassydefendorflower

Dick Grayson wasn’t meant to be caged in, but then again… Dick Grayson wasn’t a murderer, and look at him now. (was this what insanity felt like?) Dick Grayson gets captured, forced to shift, and put into a cage - surely, this is the worst that can happen?

Aurora's words: Look... I always wanted to write a deranged Shifter AU in which Dick Grayson goes absolutely mental. What can I say? I love it when my boy is broken and covered in blood <3

Catching Stars and Comets by Faeriekit

From this tumblr prompt: "Reverse Robins AU but instead of making Damian oldest and going down the line so on and so forth, it’s a bunch of assembled weird vigilante-crime men and their accidentally adopted autistic eight year old rich boy, Bruce, who calls himself “batkid” for reasons beyond their mutual understanding of expected kid behavior."

Faeriekit's words: it's been a fun AU to work on, I hope people enjoy it, also it's got kids. It's basically an ageswap!AU where all the batkids are "villains" without Bruce's influence. And it was either this fic or the bees.

cardboard box by A_Canceled_Stamp / @a-canceled-stamp

Robin!Tim is exposed to Ivy's cuddle pollen. For the first time, he reaches out to Bruce for help. How he wishes he hadn't.

Stamp's words: this is my first hurt/no comfort fic and I am very happy with how it turned out! The comments I've gotten on it always make me cackle lmao

a flower called you has bloomed by dottie_dc / @dottie-wan-kenobi

The real problem is that, well. Last time Tim went undercover, he kind of… came home and embarrassed himself. It’s not that he’s shy about being seen in disguise, okay? They can all tease him all they want but it doesn’t bother him. He has way more blackmail on his siblings than they do him, so whatever. It’s just… Caroline Hill is a different story.

Dottie's words: I saw the inspo art and it gave me immediate motivation to write something, which was really fun. I loved writing it and seeing people in the comments be able to relate. queer headcanons my beloved <3

Of The Covenant by Kgraces / @kgraces

Dick Grayson is many things, and foremost among those, he's a detective. He can't stop himself from noticing things about Tim Drake — things that make him question not only his home life but his relationship with Bruce Wayne, too. (Things spiral from there.)

Gracie's words: I’m gonna toss my current longfic your way so hopefully it motivates me to work on it more lmao. It’s a Dick & Tim fic where Dick basically takes a look at all the adults in Tim’s life and goes “is anyone going to take care of this feral, unsupervised child? No? Guess he’s my responsibility now.”

Now and Then by librarylexicon / @librarylexicon

Dick’s spent the past few months recovering from an ordeal he’d rather not think about, so when Bruce asks him to spend quality time with Tim outside of their masks, he instantly agrees. Amid conversations, itineraries, nightmares, photos, revelations and a whole lot of chocolate, he and Tim navigate the Great Ocean Road—and learn more about themselves and each other along the way.

lily's words: Dick and Tim are my favourite Batboys, so I've been wanting to write a fic about them for a long time, because of their long history and close brotherly relationship in the comics. This story is a love letter to their bond, and I'm very pleased with the way all the emotional whump turned out!

How to tape a card castle by Fleur_de_Violette / @fleur-de-violette

Dick saves the new Robin one day. This is it. This is all. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have a relationship with Jason, it’s just that it’s too complicated. He doesn’t know how to deal with being an adult on top of being Nightwing. He can’t deal with Jason, with what Jason represents, on top of it. Except, when a small injury doesn’t heal up the way it’s supposed to, he ends up being the one who needs saving and he’s finally forced to face the new Robin.

Violette's words: This is my longest published fic so far ! I really enjoyed writing it, both the Robin Jason and Dick part and the little case stories in between and I'm happy about how it turned out!

See You At Your Worst by wildsofmarch / @wildsofmarch

Dick has only been a mob enforcer for six months, but delivering a shipment of guns to an up-and-coming crime lord in Gotham should have been easy. All he needs to do is win the man's trust and secure him as a repeat customer. Unfortunately, the Red Hood is not impressed with him.

Wilds' words: I like this one because I go ham with the identity porn!

The Nature of Things by FidotheFinch / @fidothefinch

After a mission gone wrong and a spat with Drake, Robin is benched. Worse than that: Damian is grounded. As serendipity would have it, it gives Damian the opportunity to facilitate the rehabilitation of the manor's new ward, a dog Batman rescued from a fighting ring.

Fido's words: I got to memorialize pieces of my childhood pups in this story, and it was my first fic in the fandom

in vitro by genericlesbian72 / @femmescooter

Shadow-girl did not know much. She didn't need to. But she knew her first kill would be for the baby.

Hedgehog's words: This fic was a challenge to myself on how Cassandra would view her first kill, without words to describe it, while also a take on ‘joining the Batfamily early’ for her that I haven’t seen much before.

this one takes the cake by carol_in_au / @carol-in-au

Jason took a sip from his glass, slowly, synching it with Bruce's words. Bruce cleared his throat, and continued with an authoriative tone that was so not him. "I have something to announce." Bruce Wayne has an announcement to make

Chrys' words: It's fast-paced, has a good comedic timing, a bit of fluff in some moments. When I reread it, I found it pleasant to read and I was quite happy I created it

presumptions by Valkirin / @valkirinii

Batman is away on a long mission with the Justice League when Red Hood attacks Robin in Titans Tower. Red Hood thinks that hurting Robin will get Batman's attention. He doesn't expect Nightwing. Nightwing doesn't know what to expect from Red Hood, Gotham's newest rogue.

Trixie's words: It's one of my favorites that doesn't seem to get as much attention. It's also really fun to let Dick Grayson be angry and intimidating.

Operation Friendship Helmet by goldenraeofsun / @raeofsoleil

When Red Hood meets Dick, he seems almost friendly, compared to the violent hostility he showed Batman and Robin. Maybe, if Dick plays his cards right, he can turn Red Hood from a crime boss to a vigilante. But the closer he gets to Hood, the question nags louder and louder: why does Red Hood seem so familiar?

Rae's words: This is the first time I really dove into my favorite trope, secret identities, complete with a big reveal at the end.

Roadtrip to Nowhere by Ghxst_Bird / @ghost-bxrd

“For the last time, I’m not modifying a car we’ll be ditching a few towns over.” “Why, you got better things to do?” “Yeah, getting food on the table, you leech.” Jason goes on an impromptu road trip with an ex-Talon and ends up running into a family member… who still thinks he’s dead. Oops.

Ghost's words: Calvin Rose deserves more love in this fandom!

Q is for Quintessential by writergeek / @writergeek

"Rodney...you're talking about altering the timeline here." Well...yeah. Wasn't that the point? "...I want you to have a backup plan." Of course he had a backup plan. At this point he could probably list them all by alphabetical order. Or...the story of the backup plan(s) Rodney never wanted to use to save 12 days 25 years 48000 years mankind.

WG's words: not a DC fic, it actually comes from my old fandom, SGA. i just... i enjoy the time loop shenanigans and the fixit nature of it (which needs fixing only bc i broke it shush), both tropes i adore reading (and writing, apparently)

Leaving The Light by TheCallOfTheSea

Jason is alive, but he has fallen. Can the Batfamily save him?

M&M's words: I enjoyed exploring Jason as a villain, but it wasn’t easy writing relentless angst! I still brought out his humanity in a way.

closet space by adelfie / @adelfie

“Hi,” she says in a breathless rush, then takes a moment to swallow and wet her lips. “I, uh, need your help?” “Are you dying?” “N-not exactly.” “Then you don’t need me,” comes Jason’s lazy, uninterested reply. The call ends with a click. . Steph doesn't know what's more embarrassing: that she's been locked in a closet during a party, or the fact that her "friends" aren't really her friends. And to top it all off, Jason's the only one who can come rescue her.

adelfie's words: I love that Steph isn't fighting a big bad villain -- there's something so soft and strong in realizing that other people's judgments aren't what truly matter.

penance by cuephrase / @cuephrase

After Tim dies, his soul remains stuck as a ghost at the Manor. Forced to watch Dick and Bruce grieve him and unable to do anything, the only thing making the afterlife bearable is Jason. Until the day his ghost departs.  Tim assumes that Jason has passed on. But then the Red Hood breaks into the Cave. And for the first time, someone can see Tim.

Cue's words: i just had an inordinately fun time writing it!! there was a lot of catharsis in the process, and i’m very proud of the ending because i feel like i was able to preserve the fic’s bittersweetness- like the happy ending didn’t dilute the sorrow and instead they were able to complement each other

two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever / @jbsforever

In a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party. But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.

JBS' words: it's a story that centers around jason learning just how much crime alley appreciates him. it's also a sibling bonding fic between jason and tim

Ghosts From The Past by red_jaebyrd / @red-jaebyrd

Tim stared at an old poster of the ‘The Flying Graysons’ and his stomach dropped. He immediately fixated on the young boy’s smiling face with his eyes bright and full of life; frozen in time in eternal happiness. It was such a sharp contrast to the last memory Tim had of the youngest Grayson laying broken and still on the circus floor. Tim sighed. He wasn’t just at any old circus. He was back at Haly’s Circus where his nightmares had started and never really stopped. Or Bruce is Ghost Hunter and takes Jason and Tim with him to investigate strange happenings at Haly's Circus.

Jae's words: I wanted to try and write my own version of a no capes au adding in my own lore about the characters and their new world.

sons of sky by ScarlettSwordMoon, Kiwilart / @kiwilart

Dick is thirteen, leader of the Teen Titans, and already starting to chaff under Bruce’s thumb. When Bruce gets de-aged to fourteen, Dick thinks this experience will finally bring their partnership back to working order. It doesn’t. And then it does.

Scarlett's words: This fic has challenged me in so many fun directions. It is terrifying and exhilarating to write young!Bruce and to really try my hand at a big novel length plot line. Of all my WIPs, this is the most fun to work on because I'm working with an artist, Kiwili, who supports me during the loneliest parts of the drafting process, and also draws amazing art for the fic. I'm very proud of what we've done so far and very excited to be close to finishing.

we'll meet again some sunny day by Ms_Trickster / @ms-trickster

When Talia rests a hand atop her bed, the sound of paper crunching beneath it fills her ears.

Missy's words: Talia is a character that deserves a lot more depth and affection and it was a blast to write a story in which she is loved.

[en-ternity]

welcome to en-ternity’s LIBRARY! for now i am posting it just as a matter of organization. all the stories listed here are yet to be (re)posted ♡

REBLOGS, LIKES, COMMENTS, or any type of interaction are (going to be) more than welcome! ♡ just please be aware that i write SFW and NSFW stories. it’s correctly labeled and the respective warnings are going to be on the main post, therefore i am not responsible for your media consumption

HEARTS IN THE WIND

Heeseung never had believed in love — or at least, not in the real thing — not the capable of awakening his soul and bringing peace to his mind kind of love. It was something to other people, in other places, but not to a street racer like him in the small county of Hongcheon. Yet, in the summer of his twenty-four, you came into his life, and from the moment he saw you, he knew he was a goner

╰ strangers to lovers, street racing & summer romance｜coming soon

NIGHTS LIKE THIS

When you messaged Heeseung telling him you had a bad day, you hadn’t expected him to do anything about it. The sad emoji he sent you as a reply being his only resort. It was the end of the semester, after all, both of your desks were cluttered with papers for the upcoming exams. And to add to the situation, he had taken his car to the garage this afternoon, something about the brake pad being worn out and making the idea of him driving to your place in the middle of the night impossible. But then, he was there

╰ established relationship｜coming soon

THIS IS HOW YOU FIND FOREVER

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants. No. He was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you and order food past midnight. He laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room and made picnics on it. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him. Barefoot and clumsy, Heeseung loved to dance with you

╰ established relationship｜coming soon

HEAVEN KNOWS

Aside from Jongseong’s whispered jokes of desiring to eat you alive, your boyfriend never had been anything but gentle with you in bed. Kind hands and soft touches, always patient, and always putting you first. Not that it was bad — no, he was the best you ever had. But it had been inevitable for you to not grow curious about what he meant by his eccentric statement. So you asked

╰ established relationship｜coming soon

MEET ME AT OUR SPOT

The luxurious hotel of Shinhwa had only one rule for their employees: do not get involved with the guests — and in special with their daughters. Jake always had been pretty good at following it throughout all those summers of being the hotel’s lifeguard — well, until you came

╰ forbidden love & summer romance｜coming soon

STRINGS OF FATE — mini-series

The blood feud between the southern kingdom and the northern kingdom was a tale so old. It had worn thin by the amount of times it had been rolled and twisted by foreign tongues. The original words now nothing but a memory of a tale too often told, but you knew you were supposed to hate Jaeyun just as he was supposed to hate you

╰ royalty & soulmate｜coming soon

THE POTTERY SHOP AT THE END OF THE WORLD

Falling in love with your brother’s best friend certainly wasn’t one of your summer resolutions. Actually, meeting him wasn’t even part of your plans. But someday, you happened to have no other option than to appear unannounced at his little pottery shop in Seogwipo, a stray kitten in a pet carrier and asking for a place to stay, and well — you couldn’t help but do. Both things

╰ older brother’s best friend & summer romance｜coming soon

UNTIL THE SUN NO LONGER SHINES (BABY, I’M YOURS)

It’s not that Jake disliked the nights of sex — he just tended to like the mornings after a little bit more

╰ established relationship｜coming soon

WRITTEN IN THE STARS

During the course of your relationship with Sunghoon, you had found a dozen ways to wake him up. Sometimes it was sweet, a poke at his cheeks; a brush of lips against the skin of his neck. Sometimes it was a little dirtier — teaser, devious hands landing where they shouldn’t and making his body tingle throughout the whole day just by the bare memory. Yet, even with the vast amount of alternatives, your favorite one was this — the tip of your finger wandering through his moles, tracing the cluster of stars that belonged solely to him

╰ established relationship｜coming soon

THANK YOU FOR PASSING BY!

[drewsarms]

𓍼 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི more dark/icky!rafe bc you guys seems to loveeee him. Heavily inspired by these two post!! post 1 post 2

warnings: I would like to say I do not condone abuse or domestic violence. do NOT try to clock me. This is all fantasy. You have been warned. This is very…sinister maybe disturbing for some so proceed and read with caution. mentions of ownership, branding, slapping, spitting, tear licking, corruption, manipulation, very slight mentions of blood, 18+ mdni!!

If you sat and thought about the situation that you were in now it may seem troubling. You found yourself always asking how you’d end up with Rafe. With his actions. The people from The Cut and Figure 8 asks the same things to themselves and among their peers. You were such a sweet girl (still are). Always helping out when needed. Always being at arms reach for anyone despite what the situation was but now…now it was different. Instead of being there for everyone else it was always Rafe. Rafe was always in the picture. The cold hard stares you’d recieve from people did bother you to an extent but then again you were happy. If the word happy could ever describe it. Being up under Rafe and always at his service was something you loved, something that you’d never thought would bring you so much joy.

Fortunate was the word to describe it. To describe your connection with Rafe. Many girls would have loved to be in your place, right? The busted lip. The bruising. The branding from his ring. The burn mark from his bike when you tried to leave him. The accusations of your mind slipping to places it shouldn’t have been. Does he really love me? Why is he doing this? Is this wrong? But to you, the markings made up for it. The markings were your answer. I mean, why would he put markings that people could see, that people would know who you belonged to if he didn’t truly love you?

You found yourself stumbling in the bathroom, almost teary eyed from how hard Rafe pulled your hair when you asked him a question. “Can I go cover these bruises up? People are staring.” That was all you asked. You didn’t think it would cause such a commotion. As you rubbed your bruises, remembering what happened the last time, you overheard girls whispering as you stared at yourself in the mirror fixing your makeup. Do you think she lets him do that to her? She was such a sweet girl before. You would’ve never thought something like that would happen to her. How could she stay with a man who beats her?

“Beats me?” You thought. No. It wasn’t “beating” it couldn’t have been. It was love. At least that’s what he told you when you’d cry for him to stop. That’s what you believed. You believed any and everything that came out of Rafe’s mouth.

Wiping away your tears, trying your best to seem like you handled the situation you found Rafe amongst his friends. Your grabbed gently at his bicep. “Can we please leave. There’s something I need to talk about.” That was it. That was the last thing you remembered to come out of your mouth coherently as Rafe dragged you out of the truck and into his room.

Marks covered your entire body as you laid on the bed. A faint taste of blood swirling in your mouth, mixed with Rafe’s spit that he watched trickle down your throat, as you looked up at him in fear. “How many fucking times have I told you not to ask me questions like that?” A harsh slap coming down against your cheek and then your swollen pussy. You whined, trying so hard to conceal your cries. You didn’t want him to think he was hurting you. You didn’t want him to know how bad this was affecting you. You wanted to be his good little girl and crying because you were in pain wasn’t going to show that. “I’m so-sorry daddy. I promise it won’t happen again!” Rafe’s mind was somewhere else as he positioned three fingers against your sopping hole. “You said that the last time didn’t you bun?” Rafe pushed three fingers inside you of you, releasing a stringed cry from your lips.

You were already a mess. Bruises forming on your skin from his fist and spit dripping off your face as Rafe rubbed it in, ruining your makeup more than your tears ever could. You pressed your legs together hoping he’d go easy. But that was the thing. Rafe never went easy. Especially when he was like this. He absolutely loved doing this to you, more than he’d like to admit and secretly you loved it too.“Open those legs or I’m gonna make it worse for you.” How much worse could this possibly get? How much farther could he take this? That was a question to an answer didn’t want to feel, you didn’t want to find out. Rafe added another finger as he watched you stretch out around him. He reached up and pinched your nipples. Your mind was completely blank at this point. The only feeling you had was the fuzziness coming from your stomach down to your feet and the harsh lingering feeling of his slaps all across your body. “This will fucking teach you, won’t it?” Rafe started to slide his fingers in and out of you faster making you soak his sheets. The feeling of regret and somewhat wavered thoughts ran across the frontal lobe of your brain. What was left of it anyway.

Was this luck? Was this what you considered to be fortunate? Your tears welled up in your eyes, coming down like hurricane rain. You began to hiccup and sniffle as you reached out for Rafe, hoping to feel that sense of comfort that always made you realize that he loved you, that this is what you wanted. Rafe cups your face as he stares blankly at your witless expression, eyes widened and brows raised. “Aw bunny. Are those tears? It feels good doesn’t it?” Rafe slowly licks your tears while moaning against your face. If you were in your right mind you’d tell him no, it didn’t feel good, but as corrupted as you were it felt like a high you couldn’t, didn’t, want to come down from. You shook your head earning another harsh slap, this time right against your mouth, making you bleed more promptly. “Answer me.” An elated screech came from your swollen lips as he pumped faster now adding a fourth finger. “Y-yes daddy! Please don’t stop!” And he wasn’t. Not until you were a shaking, panting, whining, pleading, eye rolling mess for him. Not until you realized that what he was doing to you, what he’d say to you, was the right thing. After all, Rafe was doing this because he loved you and those kisses to your forehead while he whispered how good you were for him proved it.

The love for him was unbearable. This is what love was. This was Rafe’s way of showing just how much you meant to him. How could you have ever questioned him?

Taglist 🏷️: @nemesyaaa @starkeysprincess @starkeyslove @venic-bxtch @archiveofvirtue @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafesangelita @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @wearemadeofstardust0 @starkeysbebe @shellxrls @erwinsvow

[raviollies]

actually no im gonna yap

im trying SO HARD to gaslight myself into liking veilguard but so many narrative choices just make me scratch my head. I AM NOT DONE, I currently gotta go to Weisshaupt.

I'll start with things I like so far:

1. I think the game is really pretty and I like the puzzles :) Antiva is GORGEOUS, I think one of the prettiest areas in the entire series.

2. I really like the Minrathous/Treviso choice. More of that please! some actual drama and consequence!

3. Assan is adorable and I cannot walk past without petting him. I didn't anticipate myself liking Davrin so much since I'm usually drawn to magic babies over warriors, but he's probably my favourite alongside Bellara. I think him having left his clan is very interesting narrative choice (I am totally not biased considering it's very similar to Daee's story)

4. Thank you lord almighty for the wardrobe/mirror system. Godbless.

5. Everytime Lucanis speaks I think of Puss in Boots and that brings me great joy. Whimsy even.

6. When you place Tevinter decor in the lighthouse, they have a Hookah right beside a fresco of Solas killing Mythal and that is mind bogglingly hilarious. I do love that the Shadow dragons know how to unwind. We're turning up after fighting for elf rights.

7. Solas surviving entirely on meat, raisins and honey feels very r/malelivingspace

Things I am Not Liking So Far

1.Minrathous feels utterly toothless. Its described as terrible, den of slavery, conversion therapy through blood magic, treatment of elves being terrible - yet we walk around unimpeded. I expected a similar experience as the Winter Palace, or fights that could be avoided if playing as a human.

LAVELLAN is introduced in the TEVINTER TAVERN, wearing TEVINTER CLOTHING, like it doesn't...make much sense to me? Inquisition set up the cross roads with Morrigan AND the Inquisitior, it feels like it would have made much more sense narratively not just from..."I am the fucking Inquisitor In Fucking Minrathous" but "Solas and the crossroads are a vital connecting point of these characters story."

Speaking of Inquisitor, wildly bizarre to me that neither Solas nor Varric comment on you meeting them. Solas has a weird painting of the Inquisitor chair, but you meet the mf face to face and he just does't acknowledge it. I am not a Solavellan player but I felt Really Bad For Them In That Moment.

I think a good moment of comparison is the difference in tone of DAI and DATV...When we find out the orb is elven in DAI, Solas warns us to keep it to ourselves, with Lavellan even remaking that the world will blame us for Corypheus. In DATV, we inform everyone that Elven gods are attacking, and there's no thought or conversation about the impacts of that on Elves in society. The only one to mention it is Davrin way after we've been spilling the beans left and right.

2. I'm not done the story but hey has anyone mentioned we haven't fought a single Fen'Harel agent, what's up with that... I expected to be fighting Elves based on the epilogue in Tresspasser but ?? ???

3. I'm sorry I HATE THEM DISREGARDING THE WELL OF SORROWS IN FAVOUR OF MORRIGAN WHEN SOLAS MAKES A HUGE DEAL OF YOU BEING TIED TO MYTHAL IF YOU DRANK FROM THE WELL. Oh sorry, if it was unimportant then why the fuck did you go on a monologue about how you're "her creature" and connected to her. It felt like a retcon of the importance placed on it in Inquisition and how much of a deal both Solas AND Morrigan make about it. I'm sorry picking a ROMANCE was more important than acknowledging THIS?? ? ??

"But Ravie, they can't account for Inquisitors personality and making them important would piss people off" then just kill them off. If they're set on Morrigan carrying this piece of narrative, I would have written the Inquisitor off the table before the choice becomes relevant. Have them help you in the ritual at the start of the game and die. I feel similarly about Varric, because he feels like the writers stuffed him in the closet to not talk which just...JUST KILL HIM. Its better than being relegated to furniture!!!!

3. Speaking of Morrigan why the hell is so nice. This is not my beautiful mean witch wife. In fact everyone is nice. Even hardened Lucanis has been polite to me.

4. I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH ROOK. I profoundly hate starting off friends with Varric (and him getting shelved like what was the point). It ruins a lot of initial RP for character establishment, because it limits how the player character FEELs about the whole thing, your motivations are GIVEN to you. Furthermore, it feels like rook HAS an established character. I don't feel like I got to play my rook, just say things slightly differently based on an already established character. I dont feel like I am roleplaying a custom character, just as Biowares stand in protagonist. Maybe I'm just spoiled by the level of interaction that BG3 provided me.

The opening sequence is bizarre to me, because IF I MAKING THE STORY....I would have had the introductory quests for each of the companions be the first quest based on the faction you select (Shadow dragons with Neve, Mournwatch with Emmerich, Crows with Lucanis etc. etc.) That way you establish your character based on the faction and immediately get a little tutorial on what kind of character you're going to be playing. I would even keep the introductory quests the same with minor dialogue tweaks. The ritual would come after the tutorial prologue mission and then you start with Harding and the companion you got introduced with, since the order you get them...really doesn't matter or impact anything.

5. I think the Venatori and Antaam following Elven Mage Gods is kinda dumb. Sorry. I thought they both looked down on them for being either Elves or Mages/didn't even acknowledge them. What the hell is their goal anyway

My criticisms comes down to...I don't know what themes the game is trying to tackle? The game SAYS things but doesn't actually do anything with these topics. Minrathous HAS a slavery problem but we don't see it. Treviso is ruled by a faction of assassins but it's like a good thing! Elven gods are responsible for everything wrong in the world, but the narrative implications of what that means for modern elves are acknowledged in passing like acknowledging the weather. The game feels hesitant to actually unpack any of these things despite being the one to put them on the table.

Anyway I am going to finish the game and probably play on Daee with a Solavellan Inquisitor to see if that improves my experience by picking a character who is more tailored to the Rook they portray/not having an emotional connection to the Inky, but atm...Man I Had Hopes. Made me feel stupid for getting so hyped up for a conclusion to a story arc for a character THEY SPECIFICALLY LEFT ON A CLIFFHANGER FOR A DECADE. I'll just draw art, lie face down in the ground and imagine a more narratively satisfying conclusion to my Inquisitors story.

[soodoonimin]

Logan Howlett and animal instincts (or in other words my long winded analysis of a comic book character)

So before I start, just know that I have read a lot of comics but I don't know everything. I can take notes all day long but I have a bad memory and comics are confusing so please be nice and enjoy, this took a lot of effort to put together, it’s mostly my thoughts on the character as I read the the comic books. The movie character is a lot different and I will also probably do something like this for movie Logan as well (though it will be significantly shorter).

Also there are some pictures that have blood and body horror so beware.

What does it mean to be human? Well that's a question we as humans have been trying to answer since we could think to ask it and ever since then we've never been able to give a fully conclusive answer. Why? you may ask, well because think about it like this, the traits we most often associate with humanity (higher thinking, creativity, empathy, and love) may not and some times do not always exists solely within us when applied to fiction, we write whole stories about how robots can be human too, how aliens can be human etc etc as long as they have these traits (more or less) AND LOOK I'm not going to get into a whole philosophical discussion about the nature of humanity on Tumblr.com but I do want to take a second to talk about how those traits are applied to Logan and how he has to fight to prove his humanity.

So mutants are an oppressed people but being a mutant isn't always the same for everyone. You can be a mutant like Rouge who can kill people with a single touch or mutant like Storm who can bend the weather to your will (the most obvious example). You can be a mutant like Jean with no obvious physical signs of your mutation or you can be a mutant like Kurt, where 9/10 people think you’re a demon of some kind.

But what happens when you're a mutant like Logan Howlett? I mean you look human enough, sure you're a little more hairy than most people, you have fangs, you smell, and oh yeah the claws but those are retractable so overall....you're just a normal person right? Nothing you can’t hide, right? Yeah, for the most part, yeah. But there are a couple of other things about you that someone might not know from looking at you, you have an extraordinary healing factor, you have almost animal like senses and when you are pushed to your absolute brink you go into a monstrous like a rage and kill everything in sight.

For every gift Logan was born with theres a very real curse attached to each one.

Healing Factor: Logan still feels pain, the healing factor isn’t just limited to his body but it also messes with his memories, and more importantly he’s lived a very long life. In The End comic and Old Man Logan comic etc, when he’s out lived most of the world, he’s miserable.

Keen senses: Seems great, until they’re exploited, imagine what being able to smell and see and hear that well all the time without relief must be like. Imagine not being able to tell when someone is going to die? Or when they’re lying or when they haven’t showered etc. sure you might get used to it like you might get used to pain but that doesn’t make it pleasant.

Claws: Need to really touch on this one? Aside from the obvious please remember that Logan’s claws aren’t in his knuckles but in his fucking forearms so when using them he needs to make an effort to direct them or….

Berserker rage: great to get you out of a pinch but you can’t control it. (We’ll talk more about this later)

Most people don’t see these very real downsides of Logan’s mutation, they just see a small, angry guy, who’s good at fighting and can take a hit better than almost anyone.

Here’s what worse, a lot of people (X-men included) don't see, they don't all the ways Logan hates himself (and those who do don’t see the depths of that hate he has for himself). They don't see the scared little boy whose father was killed in front of him. They don't see that little boy who killed his father's murderer and was abandoned by all but one person for one person (Rose). They don't see the young man who accidentally killed his first love while trying to protect her from his brother. They don't see the man who lived a relatively miserable life being plucked up by a group of people who only saw him as something to be experimented on. They don’t see the man who believes that if he loves someone he's destine to hurt them in one way or another because he has multiple times over (even if it wasn’t always his fault). They don’t see that for all the times that they call Logan an animal, he already believes them and he’s called himself worse many times over.

(Deep down he truly believes he deserves be to alone, especially in death. That would be his “deserved” hell. Eternal loneliness.)

Which is funny because I think Logan goes back and forth in deciding on whether or not he has any humanity in him in the first place. See in the Black, White and Blood comic, the FIRST story told in this series, is an account of Logan’s time at Weapon X and we get this…interaction:

Pourquoi tu me fais ça?///Why are you doing this to me? This "monster" asks him this on the cusp of death....

(Moments during the Weapon X program, be they real memories or not, when Logan’s humanity shone through)

And THIS almost immediately snaps him out of mind control he's under going. I don't know if he understood the words per say but I think even if he didn't, he still understood the plea on a human level. Because it wasn’t Weapon X who responded, it wasn’t the berserker, or Wolverine. It was Logan Howlett. It was a moment of humanity that broke the conditioning he’d been put through that answered that plea and stopped him. Because if you think about it, if these two memories actually are real, that means that Logan recognized this plea as the same one gave to the scientists. Now determining what did or didn't happen during the Weapon X program is difficult to parse out because they implanted false memories. BUT regardless of that there was always a part of him that held onto his humanity. But I think that just adds to the horror of it all. Imagine not being able to know what memories are yours and which ones are not? So let me ask, even if those memories are “false” does that make them any less real? Does that mean that Logan suffered any less under their stewardship? He was still kidnapped, he was still experimented on, still tortured. He still had the adimantium grafted onto his bones, he was still made into a living puppet and was still seen as nothing more than a weapon, an animal, a monster by the very people who were doing all of this to him and in some respects they are the reason he is seen as a monster by others.

At the end of that comic (where he was momentarily snapped out of his conditioning) he states that no his humanity wasn’t stolen from him but he still lives with that guilt of everything he can’t remember and the things he can remember are unreliable.

I know a lot of people haven’t read the comics so I’m not trying to do annoying about it BUT if you get the opportunity to PLEASE go read The Weapon X comic (by Berry Windsor-Smith) & Wolverine’s first limited series run (by Chris Claremont).

I specifically say that second one because I think the story that’s told is probably one of the more interesting told for Logan because of the relationship he has with Yukio and Mariko. I’m not going to get too deep into it because I really think you should read it for yourself but the basic outline of it is that where Mariko loves the man, Yukio loves the “monster”. And when he’s initially trying to court Mariko it’s his attempts to in a sense to court humanity but he fails and when he turns to Yukio. And for her part it’s not just as simple as her loving the “monster” but more than she goads it out of him, for thematic reasons and plot reasons. But needless to say, they both love Logan but they both love an incomplete version of him. (It’s a really good story and it’s literally what sold me on the idea of reading through any of the older comics.)

Anyway, (in the comics and movies especially) some people solely see him as a man with an uncontrollable side that they’d run from at the first sign of aggression and others only want that animalistic side and don’t love the man that Logan is. The thing is, he is both of those things. Think about it like this. As humans we like to think ourselves above the food chain, we like to think of ourselves as *more* than animals. And sure we’re definitely one of the most successful species of animals on Earth and we definitely don’t act on instincts in the same way most animals do, we’ve created society and rules and we do things a lot different than other animals but we are still animals.

So Logan isn’t both a man and an animal anymore than you or me. But he is a man that is more in touch with those animal instincts than the rest of us (bc of his mutation). Which I think is why when he does act on those instincts, people see him as less, because we (yes even comic book characters for this argument) only seem associate those traits with animals, with something lesser than ourselves.

The thing is, being “an animal” doesn’t need to be an insult or a condemnation of any kind. Humans are still animals but humans are still kind, and caring, humans have still created beautiful art and music and food and architecture and have got to the stars will probably go beyond the stars all while still being an “animal”.

So I think where most people get hung up on word “animal” is because it has such a negative connotation when applied to humans. And thus that negative connotation basically perpetuates itself so the only time we call other humans animals is when we mean to attack their humanity.

So back to Logan. Imo, there is no better example of this than the way people, Logan included, treat his (and subsequently him) berserker rage. Logan describes it as a monster that shares his soul, something else inside him, the real thing that makes him a monster, something that he doesn’t like, something he’s scared of, something he can’t always control but that he does everything in his power to keep away from the people he loves. Because Logan doesn’t like to kill, he doesn’t like hurting people. He might be good at it, he might be known for it but that doesn’t mean he likes it. Even when he thinks death is a deserved punishment, he isn't ever happy about having to kill. And he even says as much at one point in the comics.

And as a real quick aside, but this is almost exactly what sets him apart from Victor Creed. They're both men whose mutation gives them heightened animal like traits. The only difference is that Logan is ashamed of those parts of himself especially when they pertain to violence where Victor likes it, enjoys it; he goes out of his way for violence.

(If there is more to Victor Creed than meets the eye please tell me bc I gotta say I don’t actually know too much about him except that any time I see him in any Wolverine media I immediately laugh bc I know the two around to brawl. And I’m almost never wrong lmao)

And mind you there are times when Logan is also a hammer in the sense that he tends to punch his way through most of his problems. But he doesn't go out of his way for it in the same way Victor does despite having every reason to.

Logan has killed people but unlike Victor he isn't a killer. Even if that's what he's "the best at".

So when he goes into this specific rage that labels him a monster (an animal) it’s almost always in front of someone he loves and it’s almost always in a moment when he’s trying to prove his humanity (when it’s being used thematically and not for plot convenience). Like if you go read the comics 9 times out 10 when Logan is being called a monster or animal by some scientist or an enemy looking to humiliate him. But it’s almost always in the mitts of a life or death situation. A situation that anyone would fight light hell to get out of even with an amazing healing factor like Logan’s.

Because he still feels pain.

He still wants to survive.

He still feels.

And at the end of it all, he feels ashamed and horrified with himself and he'll always have to live with that guilt and shame. There's a point in one of the comics when he describes his heart as being slower to heal than the rest of his body and I think its interesting because although that story he's talking more from a "heart broken" sense. I also think that can apply just as equally to idea that it also harder for him to heal from not just heart break but also from shame and guilt. In certain situations, it takes longer for him to forgive himself emotionally because he suffers physically in the short term. He’ll never have a physical scar of his wrong doing and so he carries the emotional weight of it with him.

But also because he isn't just dealing with himself. In those moments when he comes out of that rage, the people he loves are in shock and are scared because they saw the “monster” and some people do reject it and in so they reject him and although rejection is something Logan thinks he deserves, it doesn’t make that pain hurt any less. it doesn't make it any easier to heal just because you agree with them, and in a way I think that's what slows down that healing process. Logan's inability to forgive himself.

Because that's the thing, Logan, would rather be scared of himself than forgive himself, be it because of his past trauma or because of the Weapon X program (which in the Weapon X comic it’s implied if not outright stated that the scientist at Weapon X are the reason he feels the fear he does about himself). Logan is scared of no one on Earth more than the man he sees in the mirror. And that’s because in his lowest moments when he looks in the mirror he doesn't see a man, instead he sees an animal, a monster. He doesn’t need the rest of the world to tell him what he already thinks of himself, it just doesn’t help that he has a choir of voices that are sometimes louder than his own telling him his worst fear is real. He is the monster that hides under his own bed but the problem is, while the monster is 'real' is a physical sense, it does not share a soul with him anymore than the boogeyman does. He wrestles with himself. Somedays he believes he's a man like anyone else and other days he can't drown out the voices telling him he's nothing more than a monster.

And as my last touch on the beserker rage, I want to posit my own theory about it. Personally believe to some extent that it isn’t part of his natural mutation and that instead it’s something that was “given” to him by the Weapon X program. The reason I say this is because I think it would make a lot of sense that like the adimantium claws and false memories it would make sense to give you “weapon” this uncontrollable rage (that mostly comes out in times of great duress). Not just because it would be one more thing Weapon X has taken from him (control over his own emotions/body) but also because wouldn’t that just make sense on the side of the people who ran the project? That your living puppet have a fail safe of sorts in case it ran into something bigger than itself? During the Weapon X comic, the scientist are constantly surprised by how resilient he is and even though some of this surprise happens in a false memory, they really do believe they can kill him at one points so if they thought they could kill him, why not something else? Why not give their investment insurance? And what better insurance for an animal than monstrous rage. 

But of course none of this is even to talk about the kind of person Logan really is. The thing that I think most people (in the comics) tend to ignore about Logan, in favor of focusing on his rough exterior (and some of his more questionable characteristics) is that he really does have a heart of gold. Now do not get me wrong, he can do some pretty fucked up shit (I will not talk about the Jean and Scott love triangle bc it gives me a migraine) but he does regularly do things that show how much empathy he has. That show that despite what he (or the rest of the world) might think, he isn’t a monster. The best examples of this are his relationships and more specifically the relationships where he’s a father/mentor. Like his relationship with Kitty Pryde and Jubilee, two kids that he basically adopts/takes under his wing and constantly goes out of his way for. Some of you might remember this post and the reason Logan does eventually fuck Wade’s shit up is because Wade literally punches the ever living shit out of Kitty in front of Logan. In another comic issue (after this), Logan beats the shit out of Wade again for punching Kitty, it’s funny but it also just goes to show that he does take protection of his family seriously. And mind you he doesn’t hunt Deadpool down, he find him by sheer plot coincidence when he’s getting a book signed for Kitty and the author just so happened to be Deadpool’s mark.

And mind you, Logan does have love for his own kids (Laura and Daken) despite the troubled nature of both this relationships but again those are a little more complicated. That’s partially for plot reasons but also because they play into just how much Logan hates himself that he struggles active show the same love for his adopted family to his “blood” family (again with Daken it’s a lot more complicated) but I also think that not only are his relationships with them fraught because of how much he hates himself but because both Laura and Daken were experimented on just and manipulated like he was (and in Daken’s case by a major player of Weapon X) so while he does love them past his own self hatred, they are also a reminder of his deepest traumas. It’s not their fault and it’s not necessarily Logan’s fault either, it’s just the cards their characters were dealt. (I haven’t read any comics with them yet so once I do I will most likely write my thoughts on his relationship with them each individually)

Regardless, Logan, depsite what he’d like you to think, is a deeply loving, empathetic and loyal person and this doesn’t just extend to people who considers family:

(Logan says this a man who not only a few issues ago was trying to kill him and his partner/friends. He saved Roughouse (the character he went berserk on a few pictures ago) because he was being experimented on in a way not too dissimilar to the way he had been by Weapon X. And if I remember correctly this is before he even knows how he got the adimantium in his bones)

He is James 'Logan' Howlett. He is a man whose life was stolen from him so many times over. He is a man who believes that the worse parts of him are all that matter and fails (or refuses) to see the good he has done in the lives of the people he cares about and believes that only death will truly bring him peace. He is someone who despite his flaws can’t help but to be kind. He is someone who fights like hell for what he believes is right. And even if he believes he’s a monster, even if the world believes he’s a monster, he will try to do the right thing because although he knows his soul is damned that doesn’t mean that exempts him from doing what good he can. He is someone who gives and good as he gets and then some. He’s the best at what he does but for him, that isn’t alway what he thinks it is.

And I think that’s the beauty of Logan as a character. Someone whose life is so wrought with tragedy and yet he is someone who can’t help but to be kind, someone who can’t help but love and care and find the humanity in the world despite the world seeming to be hellbent on taking his humanity away. Even though he (and many people in universe) might disagree with me, he is not only a one of the best humanity has to offer but he is also a shining example of the tenacity of the human spirit.

[explodingchantry]

Spoilers for blood of arlathan

1. Why was my elven rook (WITH A VALLASLIN) even allowed within venatori territory especially when we just established they've been kidnapping dalish elves

2. Why would Strife not give my elven Rook and Bellara slave disguises rather than venatori disguises

3. Why did this venatori not call me a slur and why did he ask Neve not if Rook was her slave but her servant. Come on now

Like they did go far enough to have venatoris sitting on elven slaves but they're too scared to call my ELVEN. BIG ELVEN EARS Rook a slave? Like ok u don't necessarily have to call me a slur (though, a venatori would - even non slave owners in tevinter would. Humans in ferelden do) but like. Why would you think a venatori mage had a SERVANT rather than a slave, when Dorian turning his slaves into servants was this big unheard of thing WHICH IS REFERENCED IN THE CODEX ITSELF

Did they just not get allowed to say the word slave or what DLDKDKD

To literally anyone not ass deep in the dragon age trenches it seems so weird. And I know. And I know being upset at the lack of abhorrent fantasy racism that is way too similar to irl racism is WEIRD AS HELL. I GET ITTT (and I'm not exactly 'upset' at the lack of hate crime - I just find it out of character) and I get that they would NOTTTT want to call you slurs or a slave especially with the game's insistence on diversity (which is really, really good, by the way). And especially when one of the elves you can take along with you is a black man - that would not be very good at all.

At the same time, it genuinely goes so starkly against lore that was built for like 15 years that it is genuinely so immersion breaking KSJDKDJD

I think it's probably a really hard spot bioware found themselves in. They wanted to stop having characters be openly oppressive both to the player character and each other which is a noble goal, but they also built a deeply unequal and racist world AND sent us to the racist slave capital of that world AND made us interact with the big bosses of racism like come onnnn man because you depict it doesn't mean you condone it we all know this. If you didn't wanna depict inequality and racism then you shouldn't have made tevinter and venatori part of your narrative idk QLNSKSJS.

You even had bellara really just ask out loud "why would they (venatori) kidnap the dalish" like.... Girl... Why do you think...... This is just a thing they do before they even were part of a cult tevinters would just yoink elves from wherever they could find them to enslave them

It's also upsetting because it takes away the power, the pain, of previous storylines (city elf dao origin, the entirety of the denerim alienage storyline tbh, FENRIS) because this is the equivalent of turning around and saying "it actually was never that bad!" you know?????

The problem in blood of arlathan is also very easily avoidable - just make the elven party members (including an elven rook) wear hoods to hide their ears and their vallaslins lol that way u can avoid being bigoted to ur players AND can stay lore consistent

Vague veilguard spoilers? About being an elf in minrathous and various other northern locations

It's very difficult to not sound batshit insane when saying "why isn't anyone being fantasy racist to me" but like genuinely why isn't anyone being fantasy racist to my openly elven rook. Especially when I'm parading around Minrathous, basically the racist slave capital of the world? Not a single comment? Really?

Why do I face more fantasy racism as an elf in ferelden than I do in fucking TEVINTER? why do we hear about slaves in codex entries specifically written by those who don't condone slavery but we don't really interact with one?

Also how come there's so many elves in tevinter working normal service jobs? I know a bunch of them will be liberatis I get that, but like. You can't even be an elf in goddamn ferelden or kirkwall without risking being abducted by tevinter slavers. And you're telling me you can be an elf in minrathous itself without being abducted by tevinter slavers? Like one or two sure especially if they're protected by the shadow dragons but like brooooo

Speaking of the difference between the south and the north - does northern thedas just not do alienages ??? Is that something we're scrubbing off too?? I get it for minrathous because. Lol. But like - antiva? Is that something I just forgot? Alienages are acknowledged in like One codex entry but why wouldn't the north have them?

Don't get me wrong I Have liked some of the recontextualisation the game has done - but I think a lot of this has to do with bioware being afraid of repercussion if they include their staple fantasy racism in their game. And I do fucking get it lol you especially don't want a game about being whoever you want to be turn around and be racist to your face depending on the race you choose. But the thing is that you had 3 games and tons of side media that built this up - the world of thedas is a very unequal one, a deeply racist one, and it does take players aback when they've gotten used to it and then play veilguard and they're just able to frolic in the streets of the tevinter capital as an elf with no repercussion and not a single comment from it's inhabitants

It's so crazy going from being called fantasy slurs constantly in DAO to this KDJDKDJDJD

Like at some point it is a little bit immersion breaking just because we're otherwise so used to it and have been told several times that the north/tevinter would be much, much worse, you know?? But I do get that it's hard and that bioware is trying to move away from constantly hate criming their players. I get it's difficult. But it still hurts not just my immersion but in general hurts the worldbuilding and lore

There's a lot to be said about magic, too - but I'd want to reread the lore we had on these countries pre-veilguard and would like to also just, yknow, finish the game before I talk too much about it

[msbunnat]

sorry if you’ve been asked this before but how do you interpret Zeus in Greek mythology?

I know you like to keep the details of your comic a secret but can you at least elaborate on your perspective about his canon?

Like me personally, I see Zeus as kind of a force of nature, probably cuz he kind of is. He’s the man made character created in order to further understand that which man did not know, like all the gods. And also like the other gods his actions are hard to rationalize cuz they’re so dam inconsistent. One moment he’s treating women as disposable then the next he’s giving Hestia the respect and permission to never marry without any question.

sorry for the Yap sesh lol, love ur art and ur comic btw!

I think this is the first time someone has asked this and I am very happy to answer!

*THIS IS TO BIG SORRY!! ;-;

First, I need to make it clear that the Zeus of ancient myths and my Zeus will be different, even though its based on mythology. I am just contributing with my two cents to this range of fanfics that have existed since ancient times.

I truly believe that all the myths we love and explore are basically fanfics based on a religion and that people in the past used them to spread knowledge, comedies, tragedies and just to have fun while keeping the image of their gods alive. That is why the gods are so inconsistent in mythology, since we have many variations even of a single myth and it will always depend on who is telling the story (I wish it were easier to make fics like this about my religion, but I am afraid of the reaction of extremists).

I interpret Zeus in mythology like all the other gods, I no longer make a distinction based on the prejudice of him being a compulsive pervert, he has many sides. As all gods re natural forces, natural as in animal and plants, but also human feelings and urges.

Zeus has some basic pillars that myths tend to respect: He is THE father, he is the fairest one, he is the executioner, he is seductive, he is good-humored (sometimes he makes some bad jokes kkkkkk), he defends natural balance more than anything and he respects the will of others (this seems ironic, but calm down!!). After reading more myths about him and different interpretations, I understood that this modern view of him as a player is completely distorted and ignores all the other myths he participates (I understand that it became his joke, but… some people take it to seriously). So I started to form my own view of his myths.

Most of his adulteries are consensual and when they are not, they remain in that confusing area of ​​what was once consensual, since it is always mentioned that he seduces (for example, how he turned into an bull or a shower of gold because he knew that his potential partners really liked those things - and I find it hilarious that it seems like he didn't even intend to get Danae pregnant kkkkkk, but it ended up happening). This doesn't mean we can't understand that some of these seductions are abusive (like taking the form of a husband to have a night with Persephone or Alcmena), but saying that he discarded them doesn't seem right either. He often protected his lovers and bastards in the most intelligent way possible and sometimes he just walked away too for the good of others. And in a way, as the father and lord of the sky, he is always watching. I also hate how we take away any woman agency when it comes to Zeus, like, there re myths that they wanted a casual nigth with a god... stop ignoring that!! (the bad thing is that Zeus is also a pilar for fertility ;w; so if he sleep with someone with a uterus... they will get pregnant).

Going to the non-literal side, we have to remember that Zeus is a god and his adultery should not be seen as the same as that of mortal men. He cant acuatlly be with a mortal on the mortal realm and be a husband there... I also want to say: Hera wasn't that jealousy (I think she herself knew that Zeus needed to spread his blood/goodness in the world - yes, a strong interpretation is that Zeus' affairs are a metaphor for spreading goodness). On the contrary, she respected the bastards who faced their challenges and thus deserved to be close to them on Olympus. Hera tested the heroes for two reasons: So they understood that she and Zeus were in charge (so that no one would think they could usurp the throne, and she protected both her and Zeus, as well as Zeus do his best to also prevent the bastards to die and have some help - both Zeus and Hera do all this from a distance, they want to be fair with eachother) and to see if they deserved to be with the immortals.

It seems ironic today, but Zeus respected everyone's will, but it was in the Greek terms (more of in atenians terms, bc we don't have much of the other states). He accepted the decisions of Hestia, Athena, Artemis… I don't remember seeing him laying a finger on them or wanting them to get married. On the other hand, we have versions of him as father of Persephone, 'selling' her (but the myth was about an arranged marriage and I think it makes sense that it's Zeus, since the focus ends up being Demeter's suffering and this encompasses more complex feelings when losing her daughter because her 'husband' gave her away, while he is still respected and loved socially).

Now the bad side of Zeus in how fair he is. He punishes Apollo in some situations, even though I understand why he needed to do it… But he is not shallow enough to be evil for the sake of evil… It left a impression on me when he killed Asclepius and hurt Apollo (obviously), it is sad and I doubt he enjoyed killing his grandson, but if he didn't do it… the balance of the cycle of death would collapse and he is the one who sustains this cycle with the greatest respect. In fact, my theory is that he doesn't face Nyx, not because he fears her, but because no matter who wins the fight, the world will end (if Nyx dies, the night and everything that comes from the night, for the Greeks like sleep and death, will be disturbed / if Zeus dies the throne will be empty and no other god would do what he does, maybe Athena, but the world was too sexist back then to let her become sovereign and I also think she would be colder than Zeus when making decisions and would have no descendants…). But sometimes he just wanted to prank and have fun! So like, no straight answer here.

In the case of Ganymede, I believe that his myth is more one of those in which Zeus is merely a narrative tool, more than an active role. People just started shipping them and that's when the pederasty boom happened, but before that Ganymede was just a boy who was handsome and got a 'dream job' (poor thing…).

[lafaiette]

Also, can we talk about magic? i suppose they wanted to make the game more luring to new players, but magic used to be rare, closed under the lock and feared. Mages were feared and cosidered dangerous. Tevinter was an execption, not a general rule. How come people forgot only ten years ealier there was a regular war between mages and chantry, the very reason Inquisition was formed? Why is there magic, anciet elven magic behin every corner? It feels like reboot.

"It feels like reboot"

Because it is a reboot 💀 Or at least, it's the first step towards one.

Explaining how magic is seen in Thedas, all the different opinions and fears and hopes people have about it, would have been impossible in a single game clearly aimed at luring new players in. They put all the major pieces of explanation in the codex (one part of it is filled and complete since from the start of the game, because it's basically a catalogue detailing everything about Thedas), and let you play as a mage to your heart's content, with no strings, no responsibilities attached.

They tried to preserve some logic in Minrathous - there's mention of how Tevinter's families try to breed the perfect mages to rise in power and influence, so that's good. But you also see a "Noble" mingling with a "Civilian" among the fishermen, and telling her she shouldn't waste time and money on making things better for the poor people. What the hell is she doing there, then? Why isn't she in Minrathous proper, drinking wine and looking down on the poor districts?

Just around every corner, a few feet away from the closest tavern, Venatori are constantly putting up blood magic barriers. The same in the Necropolis, with the Venatori making camp just one door behind the main hub where the Mourn Watch is stationed. Everyone performs rituals, the Circles are barely mentioned, a Forbidden One is hiding behind a door in the Necropolis' main hall and no one ever noticed it before, not even Emmrich.

Statues of Fen'Harel and the Evanuris, elven relics and elven contraptions are hidden everywhere - everywhere. To show how vast and influential the elven empire was? That was probably the devs' intent. Does it always make sense? No. Is it for gameplay purposes, to fill the map with puzzles and stuff to find like in the 2000s? Obviously.

In Inquisition, there was an entire area of the Hinterlands ravaged by the Templars and rebel mages. The refugees were scared of walking the roads to find food because there was wild magic flying around. Rabid templars crazy on lyrium roamed the woods, and the Chantry was powerless.

Elven ruins were scattered around with sense, with a purpose, barely visible among the vegetation, forgotten and avoided, or almost forced to fuse with Chantry's buildings (just look at the Emerald Graves). There was a logic behind the NPCs' and props' locations in the world.

Here, there is simply no logic or consequence to anything ever. The Black Divine is never addressed, as far as I remember. Dalish clans have lost any distinction - the only elven faction you meet is that of the Veil Jumpers, which is a weird cocktail of elves who all know how bad the Evanuris are and random humans and Qunari. Yes, there are humans being allowed to guard ancient elven artifacts in a Dragon Age game. No, they are not called shem. Yes, they all get along swimmingly.

The Crows are not slavers and dangerous figures anymore - they're actually the heroes of Treviso! They treat their fledgling Crows with care and respect, no torture involved. Where did you hear such a preposterous idea? Zevran? Who's Zevran?

Taash says the Qun isn't a prison. How is that possible? They sent assassins after Bull when he defected. They hunt Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth if they dare leave, and if a sten loses his sword, he cannot return home, because his brethren would kill him, as "to a Qunari warrior, the sword is the soul."

So yeah, this was definitely supposed to be a reboot for Dragon Age, just like Andromeda was supposed to be one for Mass Effect. That's why everything falls flat.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Auron and Boo being the trope of “grumpy older guy dad figure x younger little shit kid figure”(can be story or headcanons) (also this sis entirely based off of that post of me comparing them to Ron and April from Parks and Rec)

Somehow they got here.

I hope you enjoy this!!

Let's say this is a Au where Auron and Boo actually meet each other. Like the one I wrote about where Finn didn't reverse time bc it couldn't work.

Since Auron went to the bar to talk to Derek he meets them and sees how their like a animal cornered.

He sees himself so he decided to help them. Auron get's Al and Seth to a hospital and gets them treatment. Also covering up what Boo did. (Kinda based off a fic I read once i don't remember the name but its on ao3)

After the whole thing Auron does keep in contact to make sure Boo is okay since it was their first kill. And Boo begrudgingly uses his help bc them killing Derek as rewarding as it was did fuck with them.

I can see Auron looking over Boo's progress in case they do breakdown because of what they did. Seeing how they are okay he tries to not seem over bearing or over stepping boundaries they might have.

But Boo who is grateful for his help sends over treats they made. Making sure their not too sweet since it seems Auron doesn't like sweet things so much.

At once point Auron did make a joke of how Boo's shot wasn't the best. That they should take classes or go to a gun range to fix their shooting.

They both look at each other before Boo snorts and tells him like he's one to talk. Auron didn't even shoot the bastard.

I feel like these two would enjoy saying dark humor jokes to each other. Is it to cope? who knows but it's funny hearing Auron joke.

Boo after a while learns about Rook and is like "Holy shit someone wanted to be with you??" As a joke and Auron is like "Boo, shut up."

Auron learns more about Alphonse and Seth from Boo, he comments how the three of them are a good group. Even tells Boo to keep them close.

The deep conversations the two could have would be interesting. Because Auron is there listening while Boo is ranting how Alphonse and Seth should be with someone who didn't have blood on their hands.

It's funny how Auron could tell them it's okay but struggles with the same thing. Boo calls him a hypocrite but smiles fondly when Auron helps them with their confidence being with the boys.

If Auron does ever talk about how he isn't a good guy Boo simply says he did what he thought would fix things. Who cares if it made him look bad, Auron just sits there and sighs thinking maybe their right.

I think Auron would try and have a okay relationship with Alphonse and Seth. But the two are eh around him so the red head keeps his distance.

I can see Boo and Rook getting along pretty good and enjoying swapping stories of their lovers.

[sinnaminsuga]

𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 - mob boss!chan x reader

wc: 3,519

cw: some threats of violence, a little angsty but happy ending, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you loved him, more than anything. but being a secret was never what you wanted. the gilded cage you seemed to exist exclusively in was suffocating you, so you decided it was time to get out. but chan wont let you go that easily.

a/n: i was driving and clearly i was not paying attention because thats when this idea was born. as usual this was beta'd by bestie @httpdwaekki and she sourced the pretty pictures for me too. enjoy!

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), breeding kink if you squint, general roughness, threats of violence (not toward the reader), chan has a gun. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

the creak of the church doors flying open should have startled you like it did everyone else, but you knew better. it was only a matter of time before he came for you. he didn't like his things to go missing. truthfully, you were shocked it even took this long. 

the click of his (no doubt expensive) shoes on the shiny wooden floor of the church hung in the air like the ticking of a clock, counting down to either your demise or your bliss you weren't sure which one. after a long pause you turned your head just enough to face him. 

“can we help you?” you asked, more nonchalant than anyone else would have been in a situation like this. the muffled gasps and muttering from the crowd in front of you almost made you laugh but you held it in. 

the charged energy in the room was due to the fact that the man interrupting your wedding was none other than the most fearsome businessman and gangster this city had ever seen. but to you? he was your asshole ex boyfriend. 

“oh can you help me? that's what you're going to say? isn't this a little much, yeobo?” he replied, voice dripping with condescension and his hand over his heart in mock surprise. 

“a little much? god you're so out of touch it's actually insane christopher. news flash, you're not the groom, you're not even supposed to be here!” you seethed, fully turning to face him. your groom (hand selected by your parents) stood next to you shaking like a leaf. you could feel the nervous sweat from his hand slicking the surface of your palm and it made your skin crawl so you dropped his hold as you stared fiercely down the aisle. 

chan's face split into the wide grin you’d once been accustomed to seeing. “are you done now? you've gotten your attention and you've pissed me off, the job is done. let's go.” he said, walking further down the aisle toward you. 

“jesus christ, you really are insane! i should have listened when people told me you were a full on fucking basket case but no. i was stupid enough to fall in love with you. fat lot of good that did for me!” you shouted at his approaching form. 

you could feel your skin heating up and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears you were so mad. who the hell did he think he was, intruding on your life like this?! it's his fault you were in this situation anyway!

***

you had been with chan for 3 years, and in that time he made it a point to keep your relationship a secret. it hurt seeing his face splashed on newspapers and tabloids all over the city speculating on who he might be dating or who he’d been seen with recently. it hurt even more when he recapped nights where he was out to dinner with his men or allies and their wives. you couldn't help but feel like it was because you weren't enough. you felt like you weren't pretty enough, weren't tough enough, weren't worthy to be seen outside his penthouse apartment. and a girl can only take so much of that for so long. 

so a few months ago on a particularly lonely night of chan being out doing god knows what with lord knows who, you packed only your sentimental personal belongings (nothing he purchased for you, which was a hell of a lot of your things), wrote a note saying nothing more than “no one took me, not that you'd care even if they did. i’ll be a bird in a gilded cage no longer. goodbye.” and walked out his door for the last time. 

the fancy things he could provide for you behind closed doors weren't enough to soothe the searing pain in your soul of feeling like the man you loved was ashamed of you. three years together and not even a hint at things changing any time soon was enough to make you return home to your parents and agree to the arranged marriage they had been working on as they had no knowledge of the relationship you were already in. and who knows, maybe you could learn to love your soon-to-be husband Seo-jun.

***

you grabbed the skirt of your simple wedding dress and stomped down the few stairs of the platform, heading toward chan. when you finally stood in front of him you could see the darkness under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping. his hair was gorgeous as usual but a little longer than he was used to wearing it. and his knuckles were raw and bruised. you almost felt bad for him but then, you remembered he made the bed he was lying in so why should you care about how uncomfortable it might be?

“why are you so upset with me yeobo? hmm? what did i do that was so bad you had to leave me in the middle of the night? i took care of you didn't i? anything you asked for, i gave it to you.” chan asked, grabbing your hand. something dark flashed in his eyes and his upper lip curled when his fingers felt Seo-jun's ring on your finger. “what made you hate me so much that you ran off to be with this fucking nobody?”

“you just don't get it. and you never did. that's part of the problem chris. you don't see me. you don't know me. no one did.” you murmured, taking your hand back and smoothing the fabric of your dress, eyes cast down. “with Seo-jun we can walk down the street holding hands and he doesn't think twice about it. we can have dinner in a restaurant, one that has other people in it. not one that's been emptied out and all the blinds closed and the staff paid to keep their mouths shut.” you inhaled a shaky breath before continuing. “i couldn't do that with you. and the worst part is, i don't think you even wanted to. you were happy to exclude me from things. happy to hide me. but i don't want that. i never did. and if you had no intentions of marrying me, it was my responsibility to myself to find someone who would.” you dabbed your fingers under your eyes and sniffled before straightening your back and meeting his eyes. you weren't prepared to see the agony in his face. 

“i- i don't...i didn't know...i didn't know that is how you saw it all, how you saw me. i'm so sorry sweetheart. i wish you had talked to me.” chan breathed. he reached out his right hand and set it on your shoulder, rubbing soothing little circles with his thumb. after a moment he slid it up to cradle the back of your neck and tug you closer to him. 

“i should have explained. i should have been more perceptive. i never wanted you to feel this way, i swear i didnt.” chan’s voice shook as he spoke to you. 

“well it's too late now. please just go. please.” you whispered, trying to back away from him. you couldn't talk about this anymore. but in your attempt to move away from him, his grip on you tightened. he pulled you toward him forcefully enough that you were now chest to chest. 

“you think that i will ever let you go again? i stayed away when you left, i thought maybe you needed time to be angry at me for whatever it was and then you'd come back when you were ready. but then i saw your face in the newspaper, the wedding announcement section no less. and i laughed. i laughed because surely that couldn't be true.” a bitter laugh rattled out of chan's mouth, flames of wild jealousy flickering in his eyes. 

“as long as there is air in my lungs and my heart is beating in my chest, you will never belong to another man. ever. do you understand me?” he growled. 

“i told you in my note and i'll tell you again now to your face, i wont be in a cage anymore. i cant do that to myself chris. i won’t. besides, you never would have married me. you just want to possess me, but you don't want anyone to know that you do.” you said softly, tears finally slipping down your cheeks unrestrained. 

“why do you keep saying that? why do you think i'm ashamed of you?” he pleaded, his brows drawing together in confusion.  

“what else am i left to think when you keep me hidden away in your penthouse? i'm not invited to dinners. i'm not invited to parties. no one you know, knows i exist! that's why every person in this room is so shocked to see you here! no one had any idea we were together, because that's what you wanted. i was a toy for you and now that someone else has me you're upset. don't you understand how painful that is for me?!” you wailed, not wanting to keep talking about it. you pleaded with your eyes for him to stop this torture but he was having none of it. 

“are you insane? you think i wanted to keep us a secret? i wanted to tip toe around with you? no! but i had to! i know you think you know what i do but you have no idea the dangers that come with it. you are my most prized possession and the very knowledge of that is ammunition for some people in my world.” chan cried. “i would have loved nothing more than to scream it from the rooftops how much i fucking love you but i knew that would put you in danger and if anything ever happened to you i would have burned the world to ash. but the idea of your safety is out the window now, you forced my hand with this wedding bullshit and now it's all out in the open. everybody fucking knows now!” he bellowed. 

realization washed over you like a bucket of ice water. he was right. you never considered that you might be in harms way if his enemies knew of your existence. 

“i couldn't fucking marry you because then our marriage would be public record. anyone digging into me would find you that way. i wasn't willing to lay your life on the fucking line like that. is a wedding what you want? you wanna marry me?” chan asked, a mischievous air suddenly surrounding him. your subconscious overrode any sort of common sense and forced you to nod yes like some kind of sick twisted muscle memory. 

the next thing you knew he was pulling you back down the aisle toward the small raised platform, the audience whispering behind you. as he approached your groom you held your breath, worried about what he would say. 

“seo-jun is it?” he asked and seo-jun nodded. the fear was coming off of him in waves, why your parents paired you with this man you would never understand. you were far too argumentative to be with a weak man. “okay, so seo-jun what's going to happen now is i'm going to marry your fiance okay? get out of my way please, i'll only ask the one time so remember that.” chan said, his voice sickly sweet with a hint of ominous threat. seo-jun just nodded and ran off to cower behind his parents in the first row of seats. chan turned to face the officiant before speaking again. “alright let's start.”

the officiant gulped before he spoke with a shaky voice, “sir i can't marry you two. you don't even have a marriage license with the correct names on it.” this was obviously the incorrect response because chan reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, pressing it to the underside of the officiant's jaw. the rabid look in his eyes was one you were familiar with, he was incredibly worked up now. 

“i don't recall asking for your sage advice, did anyone hear me ask for his advice?” he addressed the audience with his question. the crowd murmured a chorus of no’s and chan turned back to the man at gunpoint. “open your stupid fucking book and marry us or i'll blow your fucking brains out, got it? okay, good.” the officiant nodded frantically as chan pulled the gun away, tucking it back into the holster you knew he wore on his side. 

you were very much in shock, and oddly enough very much turned on by his public display of aggression. you were finally getting what you always dreamed of with chan but you weren't totally happy. you didn't get to plan the wedding of your dreams with him, and this small event just didnt feel right. 

“chris we can't do this. not like this. i want to plan something real, something with you. can we do that? please?” you asked, tugging on his hands. 

“oh. of course we can do that sweetheart. but can we do this too? just like a practice? we’re already here and you look so pretty.” he said with his lopsided grin you could never say no to. so you giggled and nodded, and proceeded with the ceremony. 

after the exchanging of vows, a cutting look at seo-jun from chan about the wedding band he’d chosen for you, and some muttering from chan about ‘none of this is good enough' the officiant pronounced you man and wife. the crowd reaction was mild as they were all still so confused and terrified, but you didn't care. you were floating. and soon as he heard the words “you may now kiss your bride” chan tugged you to him and planted his lips on yours. he swept his tongue into your mouth and you whined into the kiss. god you'd missed this, no one kissed you like chan did. he broke away for a moment just to stare at you. 

“everybody get the fuck out.” every person in the church fled at chan's command, some squealing as they left. the two men he arrived with left as well, closing the doors behind them. you looked around confused, not sure why he would do that as you hadn't gotten your chance to walk down the aisle hand in hand. “channie what are you doing?” you asked. 

a wicked smile appeared on his face as he replied “my wife and i need to consummate this marriage, i didn't want them here for that.” heat settled low in your belly at his words and you felt your face flush. surely he couldn't be serious! but evidently he was as he pulled you further across the platform to the altar. 

he lifted you and set you down on top of the altar and pushed your legs apart to slot himself in between, yanking your dress up your legs to pool around your hips. chan planted open mouthed kisses across your exposed collarbone, one hand kneading your breast, the other reaching between you to grind against your clit. you threw your head back at the sudden pleasure. 

“you let him in here? you let seo-jun touch you like i do?” he grunted against your mouth. 

“nuh-uh. told him i wanted to wait. wasn't ready to give myself to another man.” you said, choking down a moan. 

“good. he seems nice, i really didn't want to have to kill him.” chan laughed out into your neck. you pawed at his chest in an attempt to open his shirt but the buttons proved to be too difficult for your lust addled brain so you tore it open instead. and what you saw made you stop short. 

right over his heart swooped dark black strokes of ink in your handwriting, the tattoo reading “i’ll be a bird in a gilded cage no longer.” it took your breath away and tears welled in your eyes. the weight of everything that had transpired hung heavy in the air between you and chan knew that so instead of speaking right away he leaned in, cupped your face in both hands, and kissed you with the most passion he could. so many words unspoken poured out of your mouths and into that kiss.

“here's what's going to happen now sweetheart. i'm gonna flip you around, bend you over, and fuck you until you see stars okay? it's been too long.” he explained as he maneuvered your body to the position he was describing. his big hand pressed between your shoulder blades and you submitted to him like you always did, leaning forward until your cheek was pressed to the marble of the altar. 

the jingling of his belt behind you made you clench around nothing, the ache of being empty taking over. chan bunched your skirt up once again before savagely tearing your panties from your body. two of his big fingers slid through your wetness before sinking into you, punching a moan from your chest. 

“gonna make it hurt baby, stretch you out jus’ the way you like okay? daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. always remember i love you okay sweetheart? because im going to fuck you like i really really don't.” he whispered into your ear, planting a kiss on the side of your head. then he was lining up with your entrance and sliding all the way in without stopping. 

and he was right, the stretch hurt but really it always did. he was just so big, but you liked the burn. you liked still feeling him the next day. you could feel your eyelids drooping and your body relaxing as he started to move. 

“fucking hell sweetheart. a few months away from me and i have to retrain this pussy to take me. so fucking tight.” chan ground out as his powerful hips slammed him in and out of you over and over again. your cunt was drooling all over his cock, almost as much as your mouth was all over the altar. 

“still can't believe you ran from me. how about i put a baby in you, then you can't go anywhere. there's not a single place on this earth where i won't fucking find you, you got that?” he spat, lacing his hand into your hair and yanking your head up. all you could get out was a measly “uh-huh” but it seemed to be enough because he growled and started pistoning his thick length into you at a new angle, slamming the head into your g-spot. 

chan reached down and wrapped a big hand around the back of your left thigh, lifting your leg and laying it flat on the altar, opening you up more for him. he slid his fingertips down between your legs and rubbed at your clit. if you weren't already sweating and drooling, surely that would have been the thing to do it. 

“slutty little pussy missed me huh? she was all lonely and empty without daddy to take care of her. c’mon baby, keep squeezing me, yeah just like that pretty girl. so perfect.” he groaned as he did his best to bruise you from the inside. 

at this point you were as boneless as you'd ever been, you truly did miss getting dicked down like this. chan had always been the best fuck of your life and you hadn't realized how much you missed it until now. “please make me cum daddy. need it so bad.” you mumbled incoherently, eyes glazed over. 

chan laughed, a bitter sound tumbling from his lips. “those little fingers of yours couldn't even come close to treating you like my dick huh? bet you were riding that dildo i got you, wishing it was me.” he hissed out between his clenched teeth. all you could do was moan and nod because he was right. 

“go on then. cum for me pretty baby. do it for me, need to feel it. then i'll fill you up just like you like.” he said, throwing his head back as he thrust into you with the harshest force you'd ever experienced. a few more direct hits to your g-spot and it was over, you were screaming and spasming around him, trapping him inside you for a moment. 

“jesus fucking christ- oh god fuck that feels so good. keep squeezing me, yessss just like that baby yeah. fuck you're so beautiful like this. ah- ah- fuck fuck fuck 'm gonna cum. gonna cum in this perfect little cunt baby. FUCK!” chan gasped out, hips stilling as he spilled inside of you, warming you from the inside out. he collapsed over your back and breathed hard against your spine. 

after gathering his breath and his thoughts he leaned forward, licking up a rivulet of sweat rolling down the side of your neck before whispering into your ear “cmon mama, lets get you home. i have a lot of apologizing to do.”

THE END

[dabis-azure-songstress]

could you do headcanons for dabi who’s with a s/o that is a really kind and giving individual. he didn’t like it at first and he thought his s/o being so kind to people who were less fortunate like the homeless was a bad thing but he starts to pick up on their behavior and his s/o catches him doing something nice for something and they both realize he’s started to pick up after his s/o

Ooo, yes, absolutely! I feel like I can relate to this very well. I can already imagine all the things he'll say. I'm sorry this took so long. I've been trying to focus and take a bit better care of myself than I have been, especially with the carpal tunnel. I hope all of you will enjoy these anyway. I feel so bad about not posting here or on my A03. Thank you so much for your request! Please enjoy this, Dabi Goddesses!

Pairing: Dabi w/ S/O that is really kind and giving

Headcanons or one-shot? Headcanons with a small written scenario

Rating: SFW! Warning though! Dabi is sweet at the end and may steal your heart.

"You know they're just going to take advantage of you, don't you? You really need to set boundaries, doll."

At first, it really bothers him how kind and selfless you are and also maybe even makes him a little jealous.

And, he can sound very harsh and occasionally really hurt your feelings sometimes with things he says when he nags you about it, but he really means well.

He really doesn't want to see anyone hurt you or take advantage of you. EVER.

"You really are too kind for your own good. It's going to cause you a lot of trouble one of these days."

"You're such a pushover. You couldn't even tell someone, "No" even if you wanted to."

When he sees he hurts your feelings or upsets you, he does feel bad after, however. Believe me.

After a while though, he really grows to admire you and appreciate you.

After all, it takes a lot of courage to keep being yourself and being selfless, even if sometimes you do get hurt in the process.

You do eventually learn to set some healthier boundaries that Dabi takes note of, and he's proud of you, but he also grows to love how sweet you are.

Eventually, you both don't realize you've rubbed off and made him "softer" a little bit.

One day, you are out of the apartment when you hear a child crying. At first, you think Dabi may have said something rude without meaning to, and upset them, but a glance at the scrapes and blood on their knees proves otherwise. Dabi has kneeled down before them carefully.

"Did you go and hurt yourself there, little bit?"

The little one looks up at him with red and puffy eyes, still rubbing at them, and nods meekly.

"First, I need you to get up...C'mon. You can do it."

Dabi reaches out a hand gingerly and helps the young one to their feet carefully as you watch.

"Wanna see something cool to distract you from the pain a little bit? I'm gonna have Y/N go get you some band-aids and ointment."

Another nod in agreement. Dabi takes in a deep breath and carefully kneels back down to the child's height before he holds out a hand and gently alights a small cerulean flame ablaze in his palm. He glances at you carefully.

When you come back with the band-aids and medicine, you notice the child's laughter filling the air. The child is now fully seated on his lap with him carefully juggling the fire around them.

-----

Now bandaged up and much more dry-eyed and content, the mother soon arrives. It turns out the little one had gotten separated in the rush hour of people. She's surprised to see Dabi entertaining her child so well, despite his looks, but offers him a gentle smile and thanks you both softly as she gathers the little one into her arms.

As they're walking away, Dabi just casts his eyes over you.

"Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?" you smile.

"THAT. Stop it."

You giggle softly at him.

"...Maybe it's not so bad."

"Hm?"

"Maybe it's not so bad being just like you...every once in a while."

You can only smile in return as he grabs your hand and interlaces your fingers.