#flashbacks of violence

[thepersonperson]

Sukuna is Peak Gap Moe. I’ll never be over this. This bastard talks tough, eats people, and kills like a woodchipper and yet…he is a poetic little sap. Getting mad over an improper haikus, the misidentification of flowers…and confessing his feelings to Gojo Satoru under several layers of wordplay no one except those well-versed in ancient Japanese would catch.

I've been over this in greater detail in Sukuna's Negative Rizz, but @tangsakura added more context in the replies to that post, making Sukuna's use of 凡夫 (bonpu) for Gojo even gayer.

In summary, 凡夫 (bonpu) can be translated as painfully ordinary or unenlightened. But in the individual kanji readings, 凡 is mediocre and 夫 is husband. You could read this as Sukuna calling Gojo his mediocre husband. And that's just the modern readings! The ancient readings...

So you can read this line from Sukuna as the following:

“You were born in an era without me and hailed as 'The Strongest'

1) And yet you turned out to be…painfully ordinary.”

2) And yet you turned out to be…unenlightened.”

3) And yet you turned out to be…a mediocre husband/wife/spouse.”

4) And yet you turned out to be…the ordinary one who could stand by my side.”

Sukuna seems to be saying these things all at once. (It’s no different than the Megumi Activities wordplay he uses with Enchain. Alt. link if the Twitter dies.) Gojo apparently makes him feel very conflicted. He’s boring, he can do better, he shouldn’t even call himself the Honored One, he’s his equal, they’re married. The irony here is that no one except Sukuna can understand this.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Don't Lose Your Head.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[gravelsong]

What the fuck.

[wishesofeternity]

My problem with The Dragon Prince is that while it preaches about "breaking the cycle" and "choosing love", it repeatedly does so in a way that echoes the age-old idea of telling victims to passively accept their lot in life and the injustices inflicted upon them while their perpetrators never have to acknowledge their wrongs or face consequences for their actions. This is the kind of narrative they follow on both a personal and systematic axis, and it's exactly why the show will always frustrate me.

[aprilblossomgirl]

WINNY THANAWIN as JOM

HIGHSCHOOL FRENEMY | EP.05

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

I don't actually care about Karen or her kid, I just want to see Dream go feral. He deserves it, as a treat.

Goat Person In Armor: EW A MUPPET- GET THE FUCK AWAY FR- Goat Person In Armor: AAAAAA

[sleepyfan-blog]

Older Brothers

Author’s Note:This is the next fic in Cedric’s Adventures. First. Previous. I have borrowed Brother Roland and Brother Arnault from @kit-williams with permission and Brother Petras from @gal with permission. Thank you!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts

Warnings: abuse of power, flashback, minor character death, canon-typical violence

Summary: Cedric is introduced to a couple of firstborn black templars by Captain Ash’val. 

Cedric silently follows after Captain Ash’val, his mouth dry and concern clawing it’s way through the depths of his hearts. If… Or more accurately, when it’s found out that he helped four teenage baselines out of the base, rather than bringing them to holding or to one of his older Cousins or Imperial Fist Brothers, he had no doubt that he’s going to be in more trouble. But the young apothecary truly felt that he’d done the best he could in a rather fraught situation. Even if Cedric had merely taken the four teenagers to holding, the fact that they were there would have caught Captain Petras’ attention, and…

The Black Templar Chaplain had a firm and heavy hand when it came to punishment, and while Cedric would like to say that he didn’t think that the older Black Templar would permanently harm baseline humans who had been born and lived on Holy Terra… Especially the young and adventurously foolish - 

Cedric was half-way through checking the inventory of the tertiary infirmary aboard the Sigismund when his vox was pinged. One of his fellow Primaris brothers was in critical condition and needed immediate medical aid, or it was likely that he was going to die. Considering the fact that the Sigismund was weeks from the last engagement and they had taken minimal casualties, the ping had startled the young Apothecary.

Dutifully he set down the medication he’d been counting, grabbing an emergency kit and sprinted out of the medication room, hearing the medication room door close automatically behind him. 

It took him five long, agonizing minutes to reach the location of his critically injured Brother, who continued to get worse and further injured by something. He’d also made sure to grab his bolter - they were flying through the warp and if the Gellar Field had weakened where the Brother was and had allowed a daemon or other sort of warp-predator onto the ship, they were potentially in much greater trouble.

Cedric skidded to a halt, staring in confusion at the entrance to the cathedral room, which was where his dying brother was. It was one of the most holy and sanctified parts of the entire ship, how could an agent of Chaos bear to stand in a place so entirely lit by His Holy Light? The young apothecary mentally shook himself and charged into the room to see-

Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras standing over the prone body of Alois, one of Cedric’s fellow Primaris marines, sneering down at the young marine, who had been stripped of both armor and clothing, and knelt before the older marine, head bowed low and arms crossed behind his back. Petras was wielding an electro-whip in one hand, the other was wielding a charged powerfist. The chaplain’s voice was full of disdain and wrathful fire as he thundered loudly “YOU WILL BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR MANY SINS, AND BE MADE TO BLEED AND CRAWL IN PENANCE!”

Alois was barely breathing, and was weeping silently but freely, shi shoulders trembling. He didn’t so much as flinch as Petras whipped him across the face, carving another bloody stripe from the younger marine’s body. 

The primaris Marine did go flying over the pathway between the metal pews, sailing towards where Cedric stood transfixed as Petras punched Alois square in the chest with his charged powerfist, a low wheeze of pain leaving Alois as the blow struck, and when he landed with a heavy, meaty thud on the metal plating of the deck.

The sound shook Cedric out of his shock-stillness as he rushed over to his brother’s side, his vitals worsening further. “H-Honorable B-Brother Chaplain Captain, this M-marine’s vital signs are d-dangerously close to death. M-May I suggest that you s-stay your h-hand of punishment until he is recovered enough to c-continue to endure the… The punishment without r-risk of dying?” Cedric asked, as his hands flew over his brother’s body, checking where Alois was most critically injured as he started to administer the life-saving medications and treatments that the other primaris would need in order to survive the brutal beating he’d endured.

“And what if I tell you that I have decided that he is Unfit to continue to serve as an Astartes, little Apothecary? What if I told you that I have decided that he should be culled for his weaknesses, for his sins?” Petras sneered, stalking down the walkway towards both primaris marines. 

Cedric didn’t dare take his eyes off of his patient, knowing that Captain Petras in particular saw direct eye-contact from an aspirant or a squire as a punishable offense unless he ordered them to look at him directly. “Th-there is a p-proper procedure for that, H-Honorable Chaplain Captain, that a-allows the Apothecarion to harvest certain useful critical organs from the to-be-culled marine so that those organs may be properly r-recycled sir.” He hated the fact that his voice was trembling, but was glad that his hands were stone-steady as he continued to tend to his barely conscious and badly injured Brother. 

Cedric mentally shook himself as he desperately tried to ground himself in the here and now. He knew of over a dozen Primaris Brothers who had been killed by the infamous temper of Chaplain Captain Petras and that was before he’d… Before he’d killed his own apprentice, Ramiel and had openly declared that he found all Primaris Marines to be heretical abominations unworthy of existence. He had reported the deaths of those primaris marines and who they had been kill-culled by to his mentor, who had responded by restricting Cedric’s movements on the Sigismund alone more and more until the near-schism had almost torn the Black Templar chapter apart. 

Cedric had never been able to save any of them, their injuries too severe and Petras’ orders absolute. The fact that Ramiel had actually been sent to Ancient Terra half-dead instead of actually dying was… Surely that had been an intervention by the God Emperor, as Cedric had been within hailing range and had been able to actually save Ramiel with proper supplies and firstborn brothers uninterested in seeing a Primaris brother slowly bleed out to death at their boots. 

Part of him silently hoped that he would be able to find more of his thought-dead primaris brothers having also been spared by Him on Terra and be able to patch them u properly, allow them to heal and prove themselves as worthy Astartes. 

Shit, Captain Ash’val was talking! Better pay attention. Cedric mentally reviewed what his ears had been hearing while his mind wallowed in past agonies. 

“We’ve been able to find a couple of older Black Templars who have expressed a desire to meet with you. Both of them also have bonds, and have been on Ancient Terra for at least a couple of years, if not longer.” Ash’val explained, a small smile appearing on the Salamander’s face. “You’ll be meeting them in the base, in one of the public rooms. They should be here relatively soon.”

“Yes sir.” Cedric responded with an obedient nod, making sure to stand in a spot that wouldn’t impede the foot traffic in the room. He briefly checked to make sure that the civvie clothes he was wearing was clean and in good condition. He felt woefully underdressed for meeting any of his older brothers, with no armor and not even a simple weapon on his belt… But he hoped that they would forgive him for that, as it wasn’t as if he’d wanted to be taken to Ancient Terra in his night clothes. 

The young apothecary immediately spotted the older Templar as he walked into the room, armor shining in the artificial light of the room. He was holding something in one of his hands, although what it might be, Cedric could only guess. The style of the other’s armor put his home timeline likely in the mid M-40s. Well before the rollout of the Primaris Marines. He nearly startled when the older Brother approached and spoke, offering him the sourdough loaf. “Thank you sir.” He murmured. It was slightly warm to the touch and it smelled delicious. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with the sourdough loaf, and would either be told or ask Pyrus later. 

Cedric’s eyes went huge as one of the Emperor’s Champions walked over to the two of them. He could barely breathe, awed and incredibly intimidated as the well-known and revered Champion Arnault Wach walked over and actually talked! To him and Brother Roland! Cedric felt his ears go warm at the light call out of him being embarrassingly unarmed unarmored and managed not to squeak as he murmured a meek “Yes sir.”

The young apothecary briefly lost the thread of the conversation - especially when the two older brothers switched to one of the local languages - one he was unfamiliar with. But Cedric was well aware of the Rule among Black Templars that younger brothers were not to speak unless spoken to, and stayed quiet, still holding the loaf of sourdough uncertainly in his hands. 

The Emperor’s Champion looked at Cedric directly again, which froze the air in all three of Cedric’s lungs. It took him a moment to process what Arnault asked of him. 

His… Favorite food? “N…Nutrient paste?” The young apothecary offered, deeply confused. Ration bars were drier and tended to be chalky. Nutrient paste could be heated up and had a couple of different flavors to them. Not that he had a definite preference. 

Then Brother Roland asked “Have you been allowed out?” clearly referring to the base.

Cedric shuffled his feet a little. He refused to apologize for attacking the Slaaneshi bastard and didn’t think either of them would punish him for following his training… But with him on-base, anything was possible “No sir… I attacked a patient.” 

He would be happy to explain the full details of what happened, but a look of understanding passed between the Emperor’s Champion and the Battle Brother as they said together “Right, unbonded.” 

Was there really such a difference between bonded and unbonded Black Templars? Just what all was involved with these bonds? Cedric had tried to ask before, but the explanations he got were confusing and didn’t make much sense… They also boiled down to you’ll understand when you get a Bond yourself. 

“Well, little battle brother, you’ve got Brother Roland and myself, Brother Arnault in the area to keep you company.” The Emperor’s Champion declared, a smile on the older brother’s face “Now let’s enjoy the brot that Bruder Roland brought.” He ordered, silently gesturing for Cedric to follow him.

Cedric nodded and followed after the two firstborn Black Templars, staying a respectful two and a half steps behind the others as he had been taught, surprised and honored beyond words when Brother Roland and Brother Arnault invited him to walk alongside them, as if they were equals. “I… I haven’t had sourdough bread before, sir.” The young apothecary admitted shyly, holding the item in his hands “How do we enjoy it? It smells delicious.”

“Have… Have you never had brot before? How long have you been on Ancient Terra?” Brother Roland asked, blinking a little in surprise. 

“About six months or so? The Older Brothers and Cousins have been keeping me busy in the base. Occasionally they supplement my meals with local fruits and vegetables, which has been a fascinating experience so far, sirs!” Cedric answered earnestly, careful not to look either of them directly in the eye. He didn’t want to seem as if he was challenging either one of them.

“What have you tried? What have you enjoyed most? Brot can be enjoyed a number of ways, but here, hand the brot over and I’ll tear off chunks for each of us to eat.” Roland instructed Cedric, who immediately complied.

The bread had a more intense scent when it was torn open, and Cedric took a cautious bite. The savory-tangy flavors were almost overwhelming to his senses, but in a very good way. He found that he devoured the piece of sourdough within seconds “This is really tasty, sir! Thank you for bringing it. I very much liked the pink apples and the little green tree-vegetables. They have a subtle earthy taste and take all kinds of spices really well.” 

Both Arnault and Roland smiled in response to Cedric’s enthusiasm, as the two lead him on a tour of the city, pointing out places that they liked to visit, as well as chatting about the different kinds of food that they liked - and disliked. Cedric listened closely to their words, doing his best to retain everything they told him, honored and delighted to spend time with two of his firstborn brother templars. The Imperial Fists, Ultramarines and Salamanders were almost distressingly kind, but it really wasn’t the same. 

[irlangelsdiary]

just a shoutout to any survivors <3

i see you.

i hear you.

i know its hard

i know some days are more difficult then others

but i also know you are strong, and brave.

i know you are going to get through this

i know you are going to heal

i know it will take one day at a time

but i know you will heal

we will heal

we will live without our trauma ruining us, we will love ourselves, empower ourselves and laugh and heal and one day it wont hurt as much.

one day.

[when-wax-wings-melt]

said it once i will say it fucking again. flashback fitz was the most accurate version of fitz there ever was. he was sweet he was angry he was frustrated he was patient he was confident he was violent he never trusted alvar again he trusted sophie more than anyone (nearly unhealthily). i miss him. bring him back. he was so unapologetically kind generous and deeply broken. I MISS HIM.

[generalkeno-bi]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Mature Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, CC-2224 | Cody has PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, CC-2224 | Cody-centric, Whump, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, Nightmares, Flashbacks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Whumptober 2024, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-War, Established Relationship, Caring Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary: Six months after the Republic wins the Clone Wars, Cody has a nightmare. Obi-Wan finds him and calms him down

A/N: I wrote this because I haven’t come across many Codywan fics centred around Cody’s PTSD outside of his concern for Obi-Wan’s safety. This fic means a lot to me, and I’m so excited to share my first finished Star Wars fic. Shoutout to the Whumptober 2024 mods for running this event - prompts were Emotional Angst (Day 20), Shoulder to Cry On (Day 20), and Nightmares (Day 26).

[meloncholy-words]

Robin: A Word That Means Run (Chapter 2: Red Hood)

Red Hood died as a Robin, and came back as something else. The name still means something to him.

A/N: Forgot to post this on Friday. Most of this chapter was pulled out of my ass because I don't know how drug dealers or city work works so. Enjoy <3 Again, actual canon does what it wants so I do too. If it's bad I apologize, I rewrote this like 7 times because I kept accidentally writing myself into corners

~~~

Chapter Warnings: Explosions, gun violence, canon typical violence, swearing, drugs and drug dealers, drug dealing to kids(it's only mentioned), past character death(it's Jason), brief descriptions of that night but nothing graphic, weapon inaccuracies probably, descriptions of blood and injury. No death occurs! Let me know if I should add more warnings please.

AO3 | Chapter List

The new bunch of dealers Red Hood was tracking were starting to become an issue. He would have been happy to turn a blind eye for a bit, get a feel for their operation before approaching them with either the offer to be under his control or the threat of being run out. But the kids in the alley talked. Not usually, but to Hood? Always. The kids told Hood that these guys were trying to sell to them, which was a pretty big no-no.

So Hood couldn't let them think they were getting away with this anymore.

Taking down their initial startup was pretty easy. All he needed to do was break a few bones and shoot a few limbs before they were scattering like flies. And that would've been the end of it, if they didn't seem so determined to set up shop.

This time around, the didn't stick to one place. Every time he got a tip as to where they might be, the place always turned up empty. They were in those places, if the scraps left behind were anything to go off of, but they'd gotten annoyingly good at scattering before Hood could appear.

The only good thing that seemed to be coming out of this dance was that not having a consistent place of operation meant selling the drugs was actually pretty hard to do efficiently. These dealers were pissing Hood off by still being around, but at least he could piss them off right back by tanking their sales.

One more bust in trying to track them down, and he was thoroughly frustrated.

There wasn't a lot to find as he stalked through the abandoned warehouse, mostly just scattered trash and a few old chairs likely picked up off the street. No forgotten drugs, no loose files, no dropped receipts, nothing that could be used to hunt them down any further.

A grumble rumbled deep within the mans chest. It had been a few weeks since he'd been trying to get a hold of these guys. He'd been itching to get his hands around their throats, slowly ingrained no-kill rule be damned. But he had other things to worry about, other scumbags, and he didn't want to dwell on these ones any longer than he had to. Which meant that he'd need help, which meant that he couldn't kill them.

Whatever. Dealing with this issue was more important than the disdain he had for dealing with his family, and they'd known he'd been on this for weeks now. They'd be willing to help.

Tapping into the Bat comm line, he was met with a conversation he didn't care for.

"Listen- listen! The cookie part of the Oreo is objectively the best!" Nightwing yelled into his mic.

"How does it feel to be fucking wrong?" Red Robin shot back.

"Well I wouldn't know, because I'm not."

Gods he hates this family.

"Exhilarating debate going on! I'll stop you right there," Hood cut in, ignoring the whisper of Thank fuck from Oracle. "O, can I get some help here? I need you to try getting camera footage from around me. Every time I try I'm too late and footage is missing, but you might be fast enough."

"Yep, on it. Give me a second." If Jason strained, he might be able to hear the clacking of a keyboard and mouse over his dumb siblings arguing over a cookie. Then there was silence; O had switched their channels. Jason would be sure to visit her with pastries more often. "It looks like we're a little late. There's a path of cameras with recently cut footage. So we can't get them on camera, but we might be able to track them down. That good enough for ya?"

"Yes, thank you, Oracle, my beloved eye in the sky."

"Haha, don't flatter me." She sounded like she enjoyed it anyway. "You've been on this for a while, should I send someone over to help you? You might be able to tie this up faster, but I get it if you wanna do this alone."

"Actually, that would be great. Who've you got for me?"

There was more silence. "Ok, Red's the closest to you, but he's only passing by on his way to a potential armed break in. That would take him ten to get over there, and fifteen if it turns out to be a real threat, not including the additional travel time to circle back around to you. Bats is only about seven out though, and he's unoccupied. Everyone else is more than ten. Thoughts?"

Hood audibly groaned at that. Ten minutes wasn't a long time to have to wait, but it may end up being just long enough to be a problem. Red wouldn't ditch his mission, which Hood didn't blame him for, but that would be a twenty minutes wait. Batman was the only logical person to send over. But that meant he'd have to be around Batman, which he wasn't sure was worth it.

Possibly let these guys escape, again, or have to deal with Batman? Escape or Batman, escape or Batman, escape or...

"Fuck it, send the old man over." He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

"Got it. Sending you both directions to that last camera. He should get there a little bit after you."

"Thanks O, you're the best and I love you~!"

The trail led him to a few blocks of old, abandoned buildings. This place had been sectioned off by the city years ago, deemed too unsafe due to the amount of chemicals and pollution that seemed to unnaturally gather around this singular point. Bruce had been trying to put in money for years to get this place cleaned up, but the city didn't seem to notice. Or care.

It was the perfect place to lay low until Hood was off of their trail, and then they could go somewhere actually habitable, because no one would even think about being here for more than ten minutes. Except that Hood already here, and this was ending tonight.

The soft flutter of a cape let him know that the old man was here without him having to turn around. Sure enough, there was a living shadow beside him in seconds.

"So, we split up and try locating them faster?" It was the fastest option, and they could cover double the distance in about the same time.

Batman only grunted in acknowledgment, the bastard, before he faded into the darkness on one side. Hood scoffed, muttering something under his breath as he took to the other side.

The place was a mess. There was glass and graffiti everywhere, bits of door and wall scattered along the roads. An average Crime Alley look, to be sure. Hood scanned the windows and doorways carefully, looking for any sign of life, or even where their potential vehicle might be. Anything to give away the location of these bastards.

His comm crackled in his ear, a deep voice coming out of it.

"Found them." A simple two words, and Hood's grapple was clinging onto a building, pulling him to the direction of the Bat.

By the time he made it over to the building of their choosing, the sounds of an altercation could be heard from above. Jason couldn't help but be a little jealous that they hadn't waited for him. The sounds of metal batarangs clanging against wall and floor was soon overcome by the loud ring of gunfire and Hood tucked and rolled into a window that wasn't broken just yet.

There was blood. Blood and broken bones and grunts of pain and exhaustion in the air. Jason was careful to deal harmful, maybe permanent but not fatal damage. The joints were hard to aim for, but putting a bullet into their limbs was good enough. They had been trying to convince Jason to switch to rubber bullets recently, and as the drug dealers who thought selling drugs to kids was a good idea yelped and screamed and writhed in pain on the floor, he was glad he hadn't been convinced just yet.

Movement caught his eye. Movement that fled out of the door, that thought they could get away. Hood wasn't going to let them. Everything was almost wrapped up here, Bruce would be find on his own while he went to deal with this straggler.

The form weaved between buildings with the grace of a Gothamite who knew when to run and a rabbit who knew it had been caught. It was clunky and frantic, but it knew how to run like hell from danger. Unfortunately for them, Jason could run like a predator.

The person dipped into a building, one at the end of a block. There was nowhere to go after this - not unless they were willing to be out in the open with a marksman chasing after them. And who would want that?

Jason slowed to a walk. More of a stalk, actually. His steps were firm and calculated as he entered the space. There were stairs to one side that led to nothing(the second floor was missing), and a door to the other that likely led into a dining area. Door number one it is.

Slowly, carefully, cautiously, Hood grabbed the doorknob, pushing it open.

On the far wall there was an open window, pushed and left open. Silent in comparison to it breaking instead. And in the middle of that room, a few feet away from the window, was an old, worn out dining table. On the dining table?

Bombs.

Old bombs that had likely been sitting here collecting dust. Likely to be used in the destruction of this place before the city decided it wasn't really worth it and left all their equipment just lying around in one of the most unsafe places in the city. In the center was a timer that was ticked down to 0:02.

Jason had been here before. In front of a timer that ticked down the seconds until he died, in an old abandoned place that no one would ever find him in and no one was coming for him. He hadn't made it out on that day, dying until the smothering, fiery rubble of another building in another country.

But things were different now. He was older, smarter, not tied up and left to rot and die in the cold. He could get out. He could close the door and run, maybe try to use all the weight he'd gained to break down the wall. He could do that. He should do that. He should-

"Robin!"

He knows that name. It used to be his. He used to wear it proudly, happily. He wore it to everything, even his death day. He'd died with that name, taken it to the grave and when he crawled his way back out it wasn't his anymore. He'd grown to resent the person it belonged to, then learned to get over it. There was another Robin now, one that was neither of them. Robin was not longer him - hadn't been his in a long time.

He moved anyways.

There was warmth and tightness around him, pulling him close and away from that bomb that reminded him of his biggest failure. Pulling him into his fathers arms, and suddenly it didn't matter that he was a lot bigger and heavier than that man now. Because it wasn't true.

Here in his arms, shielded from an explosion, he was 12 again, smiling and laughing and bright and happy, because he had never died before, and the name Robin was magic to him.

It took a moment for the world to stop spinning, for his ears to stop ringing. When it did stop, he was still there in those arms. He wasn't 12, though. He was 22, and his dad still held him close.

Stray pieces of wall continued to rain down, lighting pittering and pattering against the bomb-proof material guarding him. There was dust in the air, thick and heavy and gross, but it didn't touch him when he was buried so deep into the darkness. A few seconds passed, and when Jason felt that they were properly in the clear, he shoved Batman away, picking himself up and dusting himself off.

"Do you think that's funny?" he yelled, spinning around. There was a light anger in his voice - not as bad as it was when his eyes glowed a vibrant green, but not as soft as when he mocked his brothers in the kitchen. "Where do you get off, old man, calling me that name again? What's wrong with you?"

Batman stared at him for a moment from where he lay on the floor, then another.

"Well?

A small smirk picked at his lips. "You responded to it."

Jason sputtered for a second, thankful that his helmet covered his face because he may have gone a little red. "Yeah- well- you try betraying three years of instinct next time!"

"Instincts you haven't used in seven years?"

"That- I- I've only been conscious for like three of those years!"

"Of course, Jaylad." The old man was standing now, upright and facing him with a soft smile on his face.

"Pssh, whatever. There's- we still need to get that other guy, we don't have time to sit around and handle sentimental shit."

"Of course."

"Don't say shit to anyone,"Jason called as was already turned around, walking fast in the direction he decided to go. He didn't bother listening for a response, huffing to himself and mumbling something under his breath, too quiet for his helmet's modulator to pick up.

Yeah, he regretted bringing Bruce along. A lot.

Well... maybe only a little bit.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heard you were talking shit about Shijie

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[hecckyeah]

Don't You Let Go

(a chenford hurt/comfort & angst for @kanerallels ❤️)

.

.

It’s her worst nightmares that finally come to haunt her.

The moment her phone lights up with Lieutenant Pine’s name, a rope winds itself around her heart and threatens to choke the life out of her. 

She watches it ring.

Everything is fine, she tries to tell herself about twenty times before she finds the courage to answer. 

He’s fine. 

.

.

She was wrong.

.

.

The next thing she knows, Tamara is driving her across town and they’re on the freeway and the city lights are like stars across the horizon and her hands are shaking and she finds herself praying to every god she’s ever heard of. 

She doesn’t let go of Tamara’s hand the whole way there. 

It’s a miracle they arrive the same time the ambulance does.

She threatens to fistfight a nurse who doesn’t want to let her see him, and Tamara backs her up.

The hallways pass by in a blur.

She’s intimately familiar with this hospital, and she turns corners on autopilot.

By the time she catches up to them, they’re halfway to the OR.

She’s all but jogging behind the bed.

Her heart breaks clean in half.

An oxygen mask covers his face. His exposed chest is coated in blood. There’s blood matted into his hair, running down the side of his head, caught in the creases of his neck. He’s twitching, muscles spasming uncontrollably. 

Gunshot wound to the upper chest. 

Severe lacerations.

Third-degree burns.

Broken ribs. Possible punctured lung. 

Shattered leg.

Hypoxia.

The words ring around, slamming against the sides of her brain like a deadly game of pinball.

She stops one of the doctors and barely hears her own question pass her lips.

“Is he . . . is he going to live?”

And she barely hears the answer. 

All she knows is the doctor’s confident and sympathetic gaze. His half-comforting and carefully honest words. And the panic that settles low in her throat when the doctor doesn’t give him a one hundred percent chance of survival.

.

Read the rest on Ao3

[ccapdis]

Nothing better than a man transforming himself into the devil for his wife.

[aftgficrec]

Hi! Thanks so much for doing this i have wanting to catch you open for so long!! How are you? I hope you have a good day!

I was wondering if there were any fics focused on neil and mary/neil and Nathan? Like his emotions, thoughts, etc, and the things he went through bcs of them/how they still affect him even now? Thank you so much in advance!

Our poor traumatized Neil! Yes, there is much to explore on this topic. -A

most previous asks lead to more recs:

angsty bad days for Neil here

Neil with ptsd here

more Neil with DID here

Neil cries, comforted by Andrew/foxes here

Neil says ‘it’s fine I’ve had worse’ here

Neil’s scars 2 here

scars and healing here

Neil goes to therapy here 

Neil attempts suicide here

‘You're Wonderful’ here

‘Hold My Hand?,’ ‘I'll Still Solve You,’ and ‘Fear (but not of you)’ here

‘The Books of Baltimore’ series: ‘Ghost of You’ here, ‘Run to You’ here

‘the upswing’ (completed), ‘please (don't bite),’ ‘Will you love me for who I am…’ ‘To be safe,’ ‘Safe with him,’ and ‘i called your name ‘til the fever broke’ here 

‘my friends and I…,’ ‘Pasts Intertwined,’ ‘My Stomach is a Wasteland,’ ‘side effects may vary’ ‘Bad Apple,’ and ‘You Are So Much More Than Your Father's Son’ here 

‘Medicated rabbits don't run as fast’ here

‘Broken Symmetries’ and ‘No More Fucks To Give’ (updated) here

‘24 Floors’ here

‘A Quiet Little Seedling,’ ‘If I Knew You,’ and ‘Step By Step’ here

‘slow down (you crazy child),’ ‘Make a Home’ (updated), and ‘make me a promise’ here

‘Dreamed in red’ here

‘...Just Us, and Y(our) Friend Kevin’ here 

‘Nothing Mattered Until You’ here (jeanneil)

amputation or permanent leg damage:

Neil's legs (the fucked up edition) here and here

Neil dies/amputations in Baltimore here

‘La jetée n'est plus loin’ here

‘I’m More Than This Body of Mine’ here (completed)

‘Next to You’ here

‘Rare pair hell series’ part 9 here

‘Live for you / Stay for me’ here 

‘“I pick up daddies at the playground.”’ here

‘lie to me (for i do not wish to live the truth)’ here

‘White Hands’ and ‘If Neil, Then Fox’ here

‘(don’t fear) the reaper’ here

‘Under the kitchen lights…’ here

‘Point Nemo’ here

‘Lifelines’ here

‘does the dog die at the end’ here

you may also like:

Neil runs after joining the foxes 2 here

andreil on the run from the mafia here

soulmates who feel each other's pain here

Mary/Nathan's people come back here

Mary tries to take Neil from the foxes here

Neil kills Nathan here

tell me where i came from, what i will always be by geeseproblems [Rated G, 317 Words, Complete, 2021]

She lives in his body like no other.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: canonical character death

Down with Something by pawnofkings [Rated T, 3051 Words, Complete, 2021]

Neil is sick, and he does his best to keep anyone from finding that out. He collapses in the middle of practice.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

you asked for this by Anonymous [Rated M, 790 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

Neil Josten and guilt

tw: implied major character death, tw: child abuse, tw: emotional abuse, tw: blood, tw: negative self talk

A reflection or a lie by ShadowDolphin [Rated G, 839 Words, Complete, 2022]

Sixteen year old Neil Josten has an identity crisis cuz depersonalization is a wonderful thing that exists and he doesn't feel real

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

i know you'll take me with you by lil_macaroon [Rated T, 6129 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2023]

Neil has feelings that make him want to run. The only thing that keeps him at Palmetto State, hell, what keeps him in South Carolina, is the promise he made when Andrew asked him to stay three years ago. Unable to run, it all keeps building within him until one day, Andrew puts him in the car, and they go.

keep your head above the water (I can’t) by drewdrop44 [Rated T, 1156 Words, Complete, 2022]

The feeling of water moving over his head, swallowing him whole. Neil woke with a scream trapped in his mouth.

tw: drowning, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: nightmares 

It's a punch and a kiss, I'm trying to remember by beckdarkthrone [Not Rated, 18604 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

He has a hold on himself as Neil, as Abram, as Nathaniel.. Until he doesn't.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: dissociative disorder, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: internalized homphobia

NB: this author has a podcast with aftg-centric episodes; check out ‘So You Think You Like’ on spotify.

We're all Monsters Here by serene_chaos [Not Rated, 892 Words, Complete, 2022]

"I am part of the slaughter house. I feel that makes me more of a monster than you.” “Don’t look at me to absolve you.” Andrew flicks his cigarette towards Neil. Sparks landing inches from Neil’s hand. OR Neil doesn't think Andrew is a monster, but thinks he might be.

tw: childhood trauma, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture

Who Am I to You? by serene_chaos [Rated M, 91907 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2024]

Neil Josten was born with violence in his blood and raised as a weapon to hide in plain sight. And then he finds himself surrounded by foxes and his usual survival tactics ruined by a five foot goalie. The whole mobster mafia problem isn’t helping either. -- Cue a Neil who cares a little less, a past raven, and potentially a little something more to live for.

tw: attempted rape, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: murder, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: attempted nonconsensual drug use, tw: panic attacks, tw: flashbacks, tw: homophobia, tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism, tw: animal abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm 

you will always be my favorite form of loving by something_boring [Rated T, 15831 Words, Complete, 2024]

5 times the Foxes tried to take care of Neil and 1 time they didn't have to.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: panic attacks, tw: nightmares, tw: alcohol abuse, tw: blood, tw: vomit, tw: violence, tw: bullying

pain our brain has made by pipedreamaddy [Rated M, 16052 Words, Incomplete, Updated July 2024]

Neil and his discovery that he has trauma-induced migraines because we all know how he neglects his health. Between everything else going on with him, a migraine seemed very minor to him. But now that he is in a healthy, safe, and loving environment where he is thriving, he can take care of himself—theoretically speaking, at least. Or the fic where Neil finally gets the healing that he needs.

tw: needles, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: childhood trauma, tw: implied/referenced torture,  tw: flashbacks, tw: ptsd, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced murder

Keep Your Head Down and Don't Look Back by Capheira [Rated G, 775 Words, Complete, 2024]

Neil has spent most of his life running from his past but perhaps this time he was a little too efficient.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Scars Like Stars by Kory_Rory [Rated T, 3429 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

Neil deals with his trauma by biting himself while being completely oblivious to the harm he's putting himself through. But it's okay cause the foxes are there to help him :)

tw: self harm, tw: body dysmorphia, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: negative self talk, tw: flashbacks 

I’m not used to all this water, love (it’s true) by niicowo [Rated T, 1415 Words, Complete, 2024]

Neil never thought anyone could ever love him. His parents never made him feel loved. But then again, what did he know about love? Nothing, he guessed. But one thing he did know was that Andrew loved him. And he just may love him too.

tw: past suicidal ideation, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Razor’s Edge by godless_writer [Rated T, 2178 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil Josten, a caring, shit-talking, striker for the Palmetto State Foxes. Nathaniel Wesninski, a runner, and the son of The Butcher of Baltimore. When Neil thinks that Andrew is in danger after he walks into Kevin and Andrew fighting, his world turns red and those lines become blurred.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: dissociation

Don't let me be by Cutie_Wan [Not Rated, 1983 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil suffers a major dissociation episode in front of the Foxes.

tw: dissociation, tw: self harm, tw: violence

grin and bear it by wlwmlmsolidarity [Rated G, 1221 Words, Complete, 2024]

neil has chronic pain due to lola and tries to just ignore it and push through on a bad pain day, andrew forcefully makes him relax and accept help

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: chronic pain

NB: includes fanart by @clementinecloudz

scream and yell but i feel speechless by DepressedTerrestrial [Not Rated, 6770 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil had some unnecessary surgery done when he was younger. No one (including Neil) knows how to handle this except for Andrew (kind of).

tw: past medical abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture

Isn't he the monster by DarkD [Not Rated, 16033 Words, Complete, 2021]

On a day when Neil "wakes up" in a particularly bad mood, hearing anyone being cruel to Andrew becomes unbearable to the point that he is on the verge of an explosion.

tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: dissociation, tw: panic attacks, tw: child abuse

Art

Day 19: bullet and Day 4: stitches art by @thefluffiestbird

Nathan was known for his extravagant parties and incredible entertainment art by @mac-monsters; twitter

Neil & Mary on the run edit by @romanovass

These ouches feel a little rough for a child on the run. comic by @softerstorms

“Don’t you dare be more afraid of me than you are of Andrew” art by @rainbowd00dles 

There’s nowhere to run art by @/tryashaa on instagram

“I’m fine” - *literally dying* art by @/koldangrey_art on instagram

[mommybookwyrm]

Play Me A Song Of Longing On Your Heartstrings | by Mommybookwyrm

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Pairing: Astarion/Wyll

Tags/warnings: Past Rape/Non-con | Past Abuse | Canon-Typical Violence | Slow Burn | Vampire Spawn Astarion (Baldur's Gate) | Astarion Being Astarion (Baldur's Gate) | Astarion is Bad at Feelings (Baldur's Gate) | Traumatized Astarion (Baldur's Gate) | Astarion Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate) | Devil Wyll (Baldur's Gate) | Wyll Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate) | Canon-Typical Astarion Violence (Baldur's Gate) | Canon-Typical Astarion Consent Issues (Baldur's Gate) | Flashbacks | no beta we die like cazador | Drow Tav (Baldur's Gate) | Druid Tav (Baldur's Gate)

Summary:

Wyll splashed water on his face and neck, sighing with relief as the cool liquid washed away the grime and sweat of their ordeal. He turned to Astarion with a grin, droplets clinging to his dark skin like jewels. "You're right, this is heavenly," Wyll said, running his hands over his hair. "Though you look like a man who is used to more sophisticated pleasures. " Astarion raised an eyebrow, unsure if Wyll was flirting or simply making conversation. He decided to play it safe. "I've had my share of pleasures, yes. Though today has been... an exception." Wyll's expression softened. "Aye, it's been a hell of a day for all of us. But we're alive, and that's something to celebrate don’t you think?”

Astarion had long given up on praying to the gods. It should come as no surprise to him then, that they are all just pieces for the divine to move about for their own entertainment.

Prologue: A Prayer is Heard

Chapter One: The Beach

Before: The Master’s Rules