#it is BRANDED into his trauma centers
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Speaking of Summoning?
We don't see people fuck it up enough. Or CAPTIVES deliberately fuck up their captor's work. Like? Yeah, you are hogtied so tight you look three parts chain to one part man, but you can still WIGGLE.
Aggressively wiggle over that rune until it's too blurry to function! Kick at it with your heel until you scrape the paint! Smear that shit around! You're not here because you WANT to be! Fuck being a polite hostage. Make their life difficult!!!
Or BETTER?
The "$4000 bucks for chalk" take!
It's not the MATERIALS that make John "fuck you" Constantine a force to reckoned with. It's the DECADES of time, training, mistakes, fuck ups, FIXING those mistakes and fuck ups, then surviving the resulting fires.
Any idiot with a voice and some poor impulse control, can use most of those books.
John is GOOD at what he does, because he SURVIVED it. Knows when to stop. What to fuck up on purpose. HOW to do it. And what the results will be.
You're not impressive because you can light your dick on fire with magic.
You're just an idiot.
And when some "you are held back by your FEAR~!" Delusions of grandure fucko, one AGAIN crawls out of the muck like he's something God damned special, and not on the quick bus to a gory unspeakable end? Plays fast and loose with things that SHOULD NOT be let free? Yeah, John exhausts himself keeping millions of people from learning what the inside of Hell looks like.
Wakes up here.
Honestly surprised he wakes up at all.
Most of Dark is here. And Every Single One looks UNSPEAKABLY pissed. Like they got chewed on by a tree thrasher. That was probably on fire, given half the burns he's seeing.
The bastards monologuing, probably thinks they're hanging off his every word. Arrogant prick. Mostly though it's just intense eye contact and eyebrow charades over gags. Head gestures. Seeing who has what and if anyone's concussed. Honestly? You get good at shit like this, after a few too many times bound and gagged.
First mistake always is and has been, not killing them when you had the chance.
But... Zatanna is looking way too pale. And when she sharply gestures with her head? He sees WHY.
Blood on the floor. Not random. Just shitty, shitty writing and no binding agents. Oh sweet merciful fuck. It's not even CHARGED. No grooves to HOLD the blood in a way to keep most of it away from the air. Just splatter painted with some cheap brush on the unscrubbed floor, mixing and contaminated by god knows what, IN LAYERS.
Because it keeps drying.
Because OF COURSE IT KEEPS DRYING, YOU FUCK.
You are DOING IT WRONG.
Is he using THEIR blood? Oh sweet fuck he is. Are you ser-!? One of them is a CHIMPANZEE! Blood's blood literally changes! John's is fucked up! This idiot really things you can just slap it down like PAINT and trot off on your merry lil way, doesn't he? Why don't you just throw "Chemicals" at it next! Big ol bag of whatevers on hand!
At least he has people to share his outrage and horror with.
Oh god, is he STILL talking? Really. REALLY? How long has he...?
Wait. WHAT.
Crazy pants has "found" (more likely was lead by the nose too) a way to True Name Summoning people?! As in "kidnap from literally anywhere and bind them to your will, because unlike normal Summoning Targets they can't fuck off back home under their own power, so it's either submit or stay trapped until you die"??! Oh fuck. Oh shit, oh fuck.
And, OF COURSE, he's going to TEST his new fun trick?
On the Justice League.
Fucker, turns and starts chanting. John is closet, but everyone throws themselves forward. Even though none of them can really move, they have too TRY. His eyes shoot around the shit writing. Trying desperately to make out familiar symbols. Anything. Something. THERE!
He never thought he'd be grateful for all those far too drunk nights and pounding morning hangovers. But he is FAST wiggling across the floor, scrunching and swinging himself around, too sharply scrape the heel of his boot at the concrete floor, just inside that omenious off color Summoning. The layers of blood, painted down again and again to keep the "fresh", stick together like paint chips. Are raised just enough, his shoe tred catches, and all but pops the rune he's aiming for clean off.
Power surges as the spell completes.
He yanks his foot back before he runs the risk of losing it.
The light flares. And between one moment and the next? There are white hazmat boot standing just on the other side of the writen line, from John's face. He looks up into a young, pallet swapped, face. Nightwing, younger then he should be, wrong colors, different uniform. Confused look on his face quickly melting to that familiar "someone's about to get their ass kicked" look as he assesses the situation.
John grins like the MEANEST lil shark. (And yes, he DID steal this look of an ex.)
It WORKED.
Because half the people behind the kid? Not THEIR League. Hero's, yeah, he left that rune alone. But the "civilian identity" that was tied up in the "of this reality" one? Whoops! Guess it was forced to grab any applicable version of the Hero, from the Multiverse, who WASN'T currently off duty. Sure hope your bindings work on THEM!
AND it didn't tip off every single hero OFF duty!
The kid steps over the binding line, bends down, and snaps the chains around John with his bare hands. Offers him a hand up. He takes it. Gets a front row view of alternate versions of his colleges testing to see who is and isn't able to step out. Quiet a few are. Oh dear~, oh dear~. All these Heros! What's a lad to do, huh chucklefuck?
They would like a word.
@nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @babbling-babull
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp prompt#minji's writing#the And Find Out Summoning Au#john has trauma related to this EXACT MECHANISM#it is BRANDED into his trauma centers#he will not be forgetting any time soon how to fuck with a Summoning#every SINGLE WAY it can go wrong#he knows it now#he has too
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What the actual fuck, Larry David.
So I heard about it, but didn't watch it until now. Holy shit it's even worse than I thought. What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Elmo is, like, the best friend to multiple generations of children, and is currently putting mental health and caring for others in the spotlight.
And Larry Fucking David ... did ... that? And thought it was going to be ... funny?
What an asshole. What a stupid, self-centered, tone deaf asshole.
Hey, fucko: First of all, you aren't even in the segment, but you just decided to barge in and draw focus because ... why? You couldn't stand that a puppet brought people together in a meaningful way that you can't? You couldn't stand that your appearance on national television to promote your wildly successful series was delayed for a few seconds while the adults talked about mental health?
I really want to know what raced through his tiny little mind, and why there was no voice or person who spoke up to stop him.
You know who is watching the Today show with their parents? Kids who also watch Sesame Street. Elmo is an avatar for children all over the world. Children who are too small to understand Elmo is a puppet will know that a man attacked him for no reason, and that will frighten them.
Elmo inspired a deeply meaningful and important moment of collective support among disparate people who have been struggling through the traumas of a pandemic, daily mass shootings, the rise of fascism and everything associated with Trump's violence and cruelty.
And shitty idiot Larry David couldn't stand it, for some reason. He had to indirectly tell everyone who opened their hearts to a Muppet that they were stupid, and he thought it was a good joke to physically attack and choke this character who is beloved by children and adults alike.
I've been bored by and totally over Larry David's brand of being an asshole to everyone because they had the temerity to exist around him since the day it started. It was easy to just ignore him. But this thing he did was hurtful, it wasn't funny, and his bullshit non-apology tells all of us everything we need to know about him.
Larry David strikes me as a person who mocks and belittles people who are vulnerable and sensitive, who is cruel because he enjoys it and is untouchable. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's who I see whenever I can't find the remote and he's on my television.
By contrast, Elmo and the Muppets teach and model that kindness and empathy aren't weak or stupid or any of the things people like Larry David and my dad think they are. Elmo and the Muppets teach children to be gentle and kind, to celebrate our different cultures and to embrace all of our complicated feelings.
I hope that, when the dust settles, Larry David's appalling behavior will be a footnote to a larger story about how, for just one day, a Muppet made a difference by helping all of us who are struggling feel just a little less alone and anxious.
A man who would belittle and mock that isn't much of a man at all.
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To find the light, we must first touch the darkness
Please also check out @bluepinkangel’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤
dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader
summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.
warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;
I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜
word count: 8k
Touch the Darkness Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Chapter 4. Heated hail
~ * ~
Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety.
Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness.
You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.
Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were.
At all times.
It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month.
He wasn’t interested in waiting.
It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of.
Giving you a month was undoubtedly an act of grace in his eyes, since he could’ve as well dragged you in front of some registrar the very next day.
Or maybe it was a wicked torment on his part, making you organize a wedding you didn’t really want. Not ripping off the band aid quickly, but making conscious decisions (as indifferent as they may be) about details regarding the ceremony of binding yourself to Steve for life.
True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.
You nearly laughed hysterically at that.
Car accident. Sure.
Against a truck branded Rogers.
You had no idea if they staged it so that it looked like an accident after they'd beaten him to death (or done worse things to him), or if Rogers had enough officers under his thumb that they classified it as such, without letting anyone know the truth.
But you knew the truth. Most of it, anyway, without gory details.
Maybe you shouldn’t feel sad, considering Felix gave you to another mobster on a silver platter. Who knows how that meeting would go, if Steve hadn’t intervened. However, you were still human and, even if occasionally you felt a taste for drawing blood when someone pissed you off, you didn’t wish anyone death.
You would have to play the shocked and sorrowful employer in front of the health center employees, which was also why you dreaded going back to work.
It would be easier, perhaps, if your mind reacted in the way it was supposed to.
Though you knew people reacted to trauma in various ways, there were certain symptoms you expected from yourself. They never came.
When you dragged yourself to bed, you fell asleep easily. Steve Rogers haunted your dreams, but they weren’t exactly nightmares you’d expect.
Those dreams were ridiculous, really. Dark, yes. In a gothic horror setting almost. No terror wrecked your body, however. You didn’t scream in fear, nor wake up drenched in sweat as you dreamt of running away from the altar only to fall straight into Rogers’ arms.
You were processing it all too logically, as if you were only wedding stressed and annoyed with Rogers, not in fear for your life and that of your loved ones.
If you were your own patient, you’d ask yourself if there were aspects of the arrangement with Steve that you found benefiting? Something that perhaps drew you to him?
You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day.
Steady, slow steps; a pace perhaps a heartbeat slower than your usual. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor echoing through the quiet halls.
Natalie waited for you in your office, as she always did without fail. In a way, she was playing a role just like you; wearing a mask to function without a hitch. Organizer in hand, she recited to you the changes she made due to your short sick leave and those that needed to be made for the day of Felix’s funeral.
A thought crossed your mind briefly, of what Steve would say about you going to Felix’s funeral. Since he apparently belonged to a branch of the mafia, attendance of Hydra mobsters and other of their operatives was highly possible, and you didn’t think Rogers would want you anywhere near them.
You viewed yourself as merely a civilian boss of the man that passed, but you possessed enough intelligence to recognize you were now also a part of a rivaling mob - no matter how reluctant your participation was.
Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss.
You didn’t mention to Natalie that you weren’t sure if you’d be going to the funeral at all, only nodding at her skilfully reorganized schedule.
“There’s one more thing,” she said, closing her calendar.
She walked to the door, opened them and beckoned someone over. A young man, a boy really, entered your office with a shy smile on his face.
Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan. He reminded you of first year students, or apprentices at their first posting.
The first person in the past few days who seemed innocent and you welcomed that change with a softened heart.
“This is Peter Parker.” Natalie announced.
“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy cut the space between the two of you and extended his hand for you to shake.
“Peter has just applied for our vacant position.” Natalie’s voice remained neutral and professional, but the way she accented vacant position left no doubt that it meant Felix’s job.
Which shouldn’t be announced this soon. No one would post an ad without your authorization. So unless one of the center’s workers tried to push his own son or nephew into free position, that Parker kid was sent in by someone who knew of the brutally gained opening.
“Son of a bitch.” You cursed under your breath.
Natalie arched a single brow, but said nothing as you picked up your phone and unlocked it with a murderous glare. Parker said nothing either, only looked your way slightly bewildered.
Shame that Rogers didn’t warn him about your newly discovered tendencies to outbursts.
That it was Steve Rogers’ move, you had no doubt.
You found his name in your contacts - Steve typed it in himself, teasing you that a fiancée should have her future husband’s number in her phone.
He picked up quickly, actually surprising you that he answered at all. You thought his phone number to be more of a reminder for you that you gave yourself away to him, rather than being able to actually call him. So when you heard his voice on the other end of the line, you choked on your words for a second.
“Princess?”
You wondered if he saved your number under that pet name.
“The center was supposed to remain under my control,” you hissed into the phone when you regained your voice. “Hiring people should be my decision.”
“Peter’s very approachable and he learns fast,” came Steve’s reply; his voice soft, but there was that lining of finality to his decision.
You paused, once again surprised. This time by the fact Steve wasn’t playing lying games, just cutting straight to the core of the problem. Which also meant he anticipated your reaction, but did it anyway, disregarding your opinion on the matter.
You’d laugh at the irony of it - that a man being truthful and direct in an important conversation (traits you valued), at the same time was the fucking bane of your existence.
“Is he even of age?” You snorted, glancing Parker’s way. “He looks sixteen.”
“I’m twenty two.” Peter chimed in and you frowned.
He really didn’t look to be over twenty. Then again, in the past you’ve been asked for an ID even though you were way over twenty five. You had no idea how young people were when they started working for the mob.
Perhaps Rogers had no conscience and hired kids for dirty jobs too.
“He’s legal,” Steve sounded amused. “No forged papers on him. Lives alone with his aunt, so a solid job, like the one at the center, is something he needs.”
You did not believe in Rogers’ sympathy, not for a second. Perhaps he took care of his employees in a peculiar way, but you wouldn’t mistake it for him actually caring if Peter’s dreams come true, or if his economical status is secured.
Moreover, you suspected he used Peter’s wobbling financial stability as a means to lure him into the mafia in the first place.
“Then he could’ve applied without your commendation. Since it’s his own motivation to work here, right?” You allowed yourself a defiant tilt of your chin and a challenging gaze, since Steve couldn’t see it anyway.
You weren’t stupid to believe Steve pushed the kid into this position only because Peter needed it. More likely, Steve wanted someone from his own batch to infiltrate the center. Maybe even to keep an eye on you, though you seriously didn’t imagine how a barely-out-of-teens boy was supposed to do that.
“Recommendation is an additional bonus to an otherwise great employee you’ll be hiring.”
You didn’t know Steve well enough yet to assess by his tone alone if he was growing annoyed with this conversation, or rather bored (since he knew you would be agreeing to his demands anyway, unless you wanted more harm happening).
“That depends on the recommendation,” you muttered, too late realizing you said it out loud.
“You don’t trust my word, Princess?” A deeper timbre resounded in Steve’s voice, sending a shiver across your skin.
He wasn’t there, but you could easily imagine the glint in his blue eyes as he peered at you from beneath his long eyelashes. An edge of a blade caressing your breakable skin.
“I’m miffed at you planting your fucking seeds in my center, when it was supposed to stay under my care!”
There was a pause after you snapped.
One in which you cursed yourself inwardly for once again antagonizing someone who held your life in his hands, quite literally. Your heart thumped loudly, you felt the echo of it through your bones.
However, when Steve’s voice returned with a reply, it wasn’t a promise of your death.
Though it may as well have been, considering his words.
“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.”
Your intake of breath was sharp, your pupils widened and your mouth hung open. He did not just say that!, your mind screeched, while your body roused in alertness.
You hung up the phone without uttering a single more word to Steve, then tossed it to the far edge of the desk as if it burned you. Your gaze lingered on it for a moment longer, in fear of it ringing to life.
You couldn’t comment on Steve’s innuendo. Acknowledging it meant recognizing this particular aspect of marriage, which you somehow repressed from your mind.
No, your marriage to Rogers was supposed to be only on paper, only for his gain of the lands and immunity.
A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies.
A quiver pattered down your spine like a strummed string at the sudden, vivid image of Rogers’ thick body pressing into your naked space.
Fear, it had to be. But it also carried a rush of adrenaline that tingled in your nipples and brought heat to the sensitive shell of your ear.
“I need a break,” you shook yourself out of it and abruptly moved. “I’m going for coffee.”
“I can make you some,” Natalie offered, observing you with perfectly masked curiosity.
It was a change in your behavior, this sudden restlessness and outbursts of unresolved tension. As stressful as taking over a big health center was, you managed to remain calm and professional since the first day. Natalie witnessed you roll your eyes a few times and assertively set yourself, but this was a novelty.
She could only assume it was because of the tragic loss of an employee so early in your work, maybe suspect Rogers was threatening you. You doubted she’d ever imagine the extent of sweet terror he planned for you.
“No, I have to get out for a few minutes.” You weren’t even sure you really wanted coffee, a shot of vodka would be a better option.
But you needed to step outside for a few minutes; to not see Peter’s boyish face with its innocence written all over it, while you knew the darkness he was signing his soul to. You hoped his only job was to tattle on you.
You grabbed your handbag, purposely ignored your phone still hanging on the edge of the desk, and strode toward the exit.
“What about Peter?” Natalie asked before you reached the door, both of them staring at you expectantly.
“Hire him.” You sighed, anger whipping in your tone.
“And you!” You glared Peter’s way. “Make sure your other boss knows that within these walls your duties are only to the center.”
It was a bold statement. One you probably had no leverage to actually make real. In terms of power, Rogers had more of it, since he had it also over you. If he gave Peter a different task to run along his duties at the health center, that order would come first.
Still, you wanted to make your opinion clear and install some respect for the work here.
As you walked to the nearby coffee shop, you glanced around a few times to check if anyone was following you. You had no proof of Rogers sending someone to trail you, yet you were convinced of it.
If he had, they were skilled at blending in, since no one seemed suspicious to you.
The usual buzzing noise of the coffee shop - conversations combined with quiet music and clinking of glass - felt like a soothing lullaby to your strained nerves. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries.
By the time you got your order, you had mostly calmed down. You were still pissed off, but there was no point in exhausting yourself fighting a losing battle.
It was time to accept the uncomfortable truth of Steve’s upper hand. At all times.
As you stirred your coffee with a paper spatula, someone stepped next to you. In your peripheral vision you caught their hand reaching for three packets of sugar.
“I’d suspect having Rogers on your tail requires a stronger brew than coffee.” A smooth, melodic male voice started casually.
His words froze you in place for a second, trepidation stopping your heart and then rushing it into a rapid beat.
You said nothing, tossing your spatula into the bin and quickly reaching for the cup lid to put on your paper cup and leave the place. The man’s hand slipped between you and the lid, pushing it to the side as he reached for the cinnamon sprinkle; his gesture seemingly so innocent.
As he withdrew his hand, glass jar of cinnamon in his hand, your gaze dropped onto a leather casing left on the counter right next to your coffee.
A police badge. In the name Quentin Duvall.
Was it a test? Since all signs on earth and in heaven pointed that Rogers had police and other agencies in his pocket, this could be a game to see if you’d stay loyal to your future husband.
Logically, he shouldn’t expect you to. It was only your lack of connection that you didn’t dare to seek help in the law enforcement, for if you had some friend of a friend who was an officer then you’d go to them in a heartbeat.
You were quite certain Steve knew you would and he probably didn’t care.
“He’s a pain not only in your ass,” the man said, exchanging the cinnamon for his badge. “It’s hard to build a case against him when more than half of my colleagues are on his payroll.”
“What do you want?” Your fingers squeezed the paper cup, coffee sloshing to the brim.
You didn’t lift your head to look at him, figuring it was best to keep the impression of a casual conversation over coffee station. If you were being watched, perhaps it wouldn’t be too suspicious.
“There’s an ATF agent working to build a case against Rogers’ mob. He’d like to meet you and propose a way to provide you protection for whatever you can bring to the table.”
“Why won’t he contact me directly?” Deliberately, you picked a jar of chocolate sprinkles and added them to your cooling coffee.
“Since he’s one of the very rare daring to hunt Rogers, he’s on the fucker’s radar. If he appeared anywhere near, Rogers would know of it and it could end badly for you.” There was a hint of concern in Duvall’s voice, but not enough to be a poor actor’s play.
Then again, maybe it was a perfect play. Luring you with a safeline, but making it risky so you wouldn’t see it as a trap right away.
“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.”
He took his cup and left, merging with the group of friends that were exiting at the same time. You waited a few moments, carefully putting the lid on your cup and lifting it to your mouth for a long, thoughtful sip.
Your walk back to the center was sluggish, your gaze switching from staring blankly ahead to staring at the pavement beneath your feet.
If it was a test and you failed it, what sort of consequences would Steve draw out? If, by some miracle, a just officer could save you from the dragon guarded tower, shouldn’t you risk it?
As you sat in your office, too preoccupied with the new dilemma, your irritation grew. That someone appeared and rocked the boat on an already stormy sea.
Though a flicker of hope tempted you to take the risk and meet the agent, you were annoyed that it came as another drastic change in your life in such a short time. Honestly, a part of you simply wanted to just go steady with one route, even if it was the one with you on Rogers’ leash.
At least it would be settled. If you kept fighting, not only would it piss off Rogers, but it meant exhaustion for you. Perhaps a never ending one.
Because was there really a chance for protection from Steve, if his ties reached to the Capitol and beyond?
Natalie found you deep in thought and blankly staring at the window of your office. She did a quick scan of the untouched documents which you should be working on, then flicked her gaze to you.
Whatever she saw in your face, it made her close the door to your office and lock it.
She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.
You looked at her for a long, silent moment. It would be reckless to tangle another innocent soul into the sticky, dark web in which you were trapped. You didn’t want to put her in danger. But you needed someone to know, someone who was a part of it from the beginning even if it was as a bystander.
Natalie and Felix were the ones who told you the truth of who Steve is in the first place, so at least you didn’t have to reveal to her something she wouldn’t already know about the man.
With a sigh, you opened your mouth and told her everything.
As you studied Natalie’s face afterwards, you realized she might have been the best choice to share the burden. There was no fear on her face, no panic settling in. She frowned, processing it all and you almost could sense the cogs in her head turning as she conjured up a plan.
“That officer, what was his name again?” She asked, sliding her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly.
“Duvall. Quentin Duvall.” You told her. “Why?”
“I fucked a guy who has ways to check people’s background,” Natalie replied without an ounce of shame or awkwardness. “A computer geek. I’ll ask him to check if officer Duvall is who he claims to be.”
“Oh!” That way at least you’d know if it wasn’t a scheme. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”
Natalie didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, as if it wasn’t even needed. Determined and focused on the task, she exchanged text messages with whomever was so into her he still agreed to do for her something that was probably illegal.
Since you were engaged to a mob boss, you weren’t going to judge.
Few hours later, just as you were finishing for the day, Natalie returned to your office with ready information.
“It’s your choice,” she said, taking her jacket off.
Thin bracelets on her wrist jingled faintly, a peek of a small spider tattoo on her forearm quickly disappeared beneath the folded jacket which she draped over her arm.
“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” She walked next to you as both went toward the exit. “If they don’t offer you actual solid protection, you simply give them nothing.”
“What if Rogers finds out about the meeting and it angers him? Even if I don’t say anything yet.” Somehow, as you thought of the consequences to your decision, it was Steve’s face that kept popping in your head.
His icy eyes trained on you; his fingers stroking you before clenching around your throat.
Natalie paused, glancing at you with a scowl. She didn’t seem annoyed with your question, but rather with the fact she had no certain answer for it. Natalie liked knowing everything.
“That I don't know.” She admitted, with a small pout. “In different circumstances I’d go for some predictable wrath, but honestly? He declared your engagement. That’s definitely completely unpredictable. So who knows what he’d do.”
It was a very small, very naive consolation, but you reminded yourself that if he wanted you dead, Rogers would have made that happen already.
If you were his employee who betrayed him, then severe torture awaited, if not aforementioned death.
What awaited an unruly fiancee?
You hoped to never find out. Being extra careful in your act of casual trip to the coffee shop on the pointed day, you already considered potential excuses for another meeting, details of which Duvall was supposed to give you.
It better not be on some late evening in some shady place, because even though you still didn’t catch anyone following you it didn’t mean Rogers didn’t have an eye on you.
To your surprise, and actual relief, Duval didn’t talk to you this time, just slipped you a piece of paper as he tossed out a napkin into a bin right next to which you were standing at the coffee shop. It contained the address of a small apothecary in a nearby neighborhood and an afternoon hour.
That was very clever. A visit to such a place wasn’t anything unusual, even if most people bought their medicine at the big drugstores. And since it would still be daylight, it seemed even more harmless.
Natalie agreed with you on that, telling you also about a bakery nearby into which you could also step in to keep the appearance of running errands.
Both of you probably watched too many crime shows, but it came in handy.
The lights in the apothecary were on when you went in, but it occurred to you that it was completely empty only when the door closed behind you.
There were shelves stacked with medicines, some key-locked cases and an antique looking chest of drawers, which you suspected was more for decoration than to keep chemicals inside.
There was no one behind the counter, however. Only the backdoor, leading to an additional room, was open.
“Hello?” You called out, not moving from your spot near the door, in case you needed to run.
There was some shuffling and then Duvall appeared in the backdoor. He smiled in relief, clearly fearing you would not come. He beckoned you over and you followed him through the short, narrow corridor into another room.
Spacious, but minimalist (to not say empty) compared to the front. There were two industrial tables and three chairs, some metal cabinets and neatly grouped apparatus.
The man who leaned against one of the tables didn’t look like a chemist.
Though you suspected a man like him may know a thing or ten about chemicals that blew up, judging by his close to military look. Well, since you never met an ATF agent in person, perhaps it was how they dressed.
“Claude Batroc.” He introduced himself, with a smile that perhaps would be charming if not for a hint of dishonesty to it.
There was something about that man that instantly made you feel uneasy.
Steve raised the hair on the back of your neck as well, but his type of danger was a sizzling black fog that engulfed you in its warm embrace and zapped your body with scary tingles. Batroc was the sound of screeching tires a second before a truck pummels into you.
Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered.
“Officer Duvall claims you’re able to help me,” you swallowed past your nervousness and looked at him expectantly.
Like Natalie told you, you planned on making sure their promise was solid, before you jumped off any cliff.
“I am.” He nodded, tilting his head to the side. “But that depends on what you can give me?”
You frowned. You assumed they knew how new and short your acquaintance with Rogers was; that you weren’t one of his inner circle people, who could provide a lot of intel.
Foolishly maybe, but you thought being threatened and knowing of Felix’s demise was enough for them to consider you an important witness. There wasn’t anything else of heavy value that you could bring to the table.
“Does he really have the stones?” came Batroc’s direct question.
Simple, but completely confusing for you.
Out of all the things you could’ve expected them to ask you, that never came to mind.
“I don’t know anything about any stones,” you said slowly. Your frown deepened as your brain tried to work out, if maybe there were some jewels involved in the whole mess.
Was Howard hiding a diamond mine under the health center, or something?
“There’s a rumor that Rogers is in possession of the Infinity Stones.” Duvall mentioned and you glanced his way over your shoulder. When he saw your face, he sighed in disappointment. It was clear you were unaware of what they were talking about.
“They belonged to Thanos. A Greek mogul, who’d probably surpass Zeus himself if mythological riches and armies were comparable to the real ones. He was in possession of the six, most valued gems in the world. They are called the Infinity Stones.”
“Few years ago Thanos was found dead.” Batroc took over the story. “Along with most of his men. A job so clean, nothing pointed to a rampage. And nothing but the gems disappeared from his fortress. No organization ever boasted it to be their job. In time, Rogers’ name has been whispered as the one to do it, but he never confirmed. Never put them up for auction.”
You shook your head again. The only gems that came to your mind as you thought of Steve Rogers were the few that glinted in the dark, thick silver of his rings.
You doubted anyone would put the most valuable jewels in simple rings, which he wore daily on full display for everyone to see.
Then again, wouldn’t that be a perfect power move? A shiny middle finger and a warning to anyone who dared to think they could cross Rogers.
“A different angle then.” Batroc changed the topic. Quite eagerly, too, as if the one he was moving onto was to him far more important than a few shiny rocks.
“Why is he circling around the health center?” Something dark, greedy, flashed in his eyes. “He’s already got his people sitting all over it. Made an effort to reach you directly, not just work under your nose.”
When Batroc straightened and made a slow step forward, you stepped back. Duvall was standing in the doorway, blocking your escape route. You didn’t think you’d need one, but now your instincts screamed at you that there was something bad behind their intentions.
“Rogers isn’t the kind of man to tell his secrets left and right.” You tried to stand your ground, despite your pulse quickening in fear.
You weren’t a type of person to limitlessly trust the law enforcement, but since they were supposed to be determined to build a case against Rogers they should treat you (as the potential help in successful operation) with less creepiness.
At the moment, Batroc’s stance and the way his eyes danced over your form were displaying a poor skill at charm and comfort.
“Maybe you aren’t privy to his secrets.” Batroc shrugged, then bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Or maybe you’re the one who actually holds the key to the project Rogers has been building, huh?”
“Quentin said you keep yourself guarded, which is smart if you’re going toe to toe with the likes of us. But there’s not a can that can’t be opened…”
Perhaps Batroc was an agent and maybe he was building a case against Rogers. His methods, however, were those of another gutter kingpin. He could be working for one, doing his official job and an extra one on the side. Or he could be one himself.
You should’ve predicted that your hope for help would be false.
You considered Rogers playing you, testing your loyalty, meanwhile another mobster scum was attempting to use you to screw with Steve.
“We’re gonna play some interrogation game. With bonuses.” At Batroc’s words, you made another hasty step backwards, your back hitting the metal cabinets.
A sudden wheezing sound and a loud thump of a falling body averted Batroc’s attention from you.
Duvall fell down lifelessly, face first onto the floor. At least a second passed before you noticed a pool of red spilling around his head like a horrific halo.
Then something heavy flew across the space, knocking Batroc’s gun from his hand as he reached for it.
Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.
He and Batroc clashed in the middle of the room - forearm blocking a punch, then a knee up to block a kick.
Both of them were fast and strong, their fight a darker, less choreographed movie combat. For every of Batroc’s hits, Steve delivered two. Despite his bulk, Steve was exceptionally graceful in his technique. His opponent stumbled for a second, shaking his head to get rid of dizziness after one of Steve’s hooks. Meanwhile Rogers didn’t even wince when Batroc managed to split his lip open.
It wasn’t a fight that would continue honorably, until one yielded and pledged fealty.
After disarming Batrock when he pulled out a knife, Steve kicked him a few steps away then drew out his gun and shot him three times. Twice in the chest, once in the head.
You flinched with each gunfire sound, but remained glued to the spot.
Your gaze was on Rogers, you didn’t pay much attention to other men stepping inside. Steve spoke to them, but all the voices blurred into a dull sound as your hammering heartbeat threatened to pound away each vessel in your body.
Only your sight remained focused. Your mind picked Rogers as the only solid point to anchor itself to.
Perhaps simply because he saved you. Once again. Even if it was to ensnare you himself.
You pushed against the cabinets, trying to bury yourself into them when Steve dismissed his people with some short orders and started towards you, but they didn’t budge an inch.
You weren’t attempting to escape him. You wanted to escape your growing need to wrap your arms around him and cling to the beast that spared your life as the only source of comfort at the moment.
Yet, you knew the sickness that bubbled in your stomach wasn’t because you felt a twisted sense of safety now that Rogers was here, but because you witnessed people being killed, blood splattering; hell, you nearly were mauled. Again.
The anxiety was skyrocketing. Or it would be, if not for the freezing shock still gripping you so tightly you felt like trapped in a glass box. It was an inner torment, procured by your own neurotransmitters and chemicals, that kept you on the edge of a malfunctioning fight or flight mechanism.
Steve’s broad form caging you in, shutting away the bloodied world outside of his arms, was the first thing that pulled your focus back to reality of now and here.
The feeling of a hot, metal muzzle touching the underside of your jaw snapped you out of the traumatic trance.
He pointed his gun at you. The one with which he shot Batroc.
A spike of adrenaline roused your body into full alertness. However, instead of logical terror and tearing up at the oncoming death, your brain paid attention to how delicate that pressure of a gun was.
How the warmth of it felt against your clammy skin; how refreshing was the metallic scent of it and how quickly it disappeared under the familiar now undertones of Rogers’ cologne.
That gun held so much power.
It ruthlessly disposed of a direct threat to you. An extension to the one who was behind saving you over and over (even if it was only, so he could be the one to torment you). Steve was living up to being your knight. Not in shining armor; not even one with good intentions. No, he was a black knight whose curse trapped you in a twisted realm.
“Did he lay a hand on you?” pressing the muzzle to your chin, Steve moved your face left and right as his eyes scanned your state.
Swallowing hard, you shook your head. You were unable to form a single word, your throat constricted with all the sobs which you couldn’t force out of yourself.
“Good.” Steve stated simply, without much genuine relief.
“Your naughty stunt served me well.” He mused as he gently dragged the barrel of his gun across your cheek and down your neck; like he was caressing you with fingers, not a deadly weapon.
“I wanted to get rid of Batroc for a while now, but he buried himself so deep it was hard to find him. I should’ve known he’d come up for something when he saw everyone else wanted it.”
You weren’t paying enough attention to Steve’s words to decipher their full meaning, your senses were more interested in attuning to the trace of his gun on your skin.
Holding your gaze captive with his icy blue eyes (so clear and unmarred with anger, despite what just happened), Steve kept moving the muzzle of his gun from one of your collar bones to the other. Slowly.
He had to read something in your body you weren’t yet aware of - a spark of curiosity ignited in his irises.
You realized what it was a few seconds later as you felt your nipples stiffen.
No!, a voice in your head whispered in utter disbelief. That current at the touch of Rogers’ gun was arousal. Underlaid with fear, but the kind that spiced the arousal higher, not switched it off.
It had to be the adrenaline still rushing, you thought. Your mind locked in an acute stress reaction, so that your body got confused; it didn’t know how to react, or which hormones to produce.
That had to be the reason, the only explanation. Because you have never experienced anything like this.
Rogers being despicable aside, you simply never entertained any kinky fantasies that included a gun, or any other weapon, or being overpowered so completely. That was never something you considered you might like.
But as much as you were afraid of Steve in general, in this very moment you somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a bad way.
And the gun pressed to your body was a substantial proof of his power. One that could touch you physically; do things to you…
“My, my, Princess,” Steve leaned closer; whether to feel you shiver, or to shield the view of you from any prying eyes. “You’re just full of surprises.”
He ran the gun down your body - between your breasts and down your quivering belly. When the still warm muzzle nudged the hem of your flowy skirt up, the haze of shock snapped.
“I-” you started, but your voice was weak and breathless, turning into a gasp as Steve drew the gun higher up your thigh.
“I should go.” You squeaked out, but somehow couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steve’s.
The only muscles you moved were those of your legs, which parted slightly as he slipped the gun over your clothed core.
His free hand shot up to your neck; ringed fingers curling around your throat in a loose reminder of Steve’s dominance. Like the first time he’s done it, your breath hitched in your lungs, your pupils widened and your knees weakened.
Then the solid barrel rubbed against your covered folds and your lips parted on a needy whimper.
While it shocked you, it absolutely delighted Steve.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Princess.” He cooed, dragging the gun back and forth over your pussy. “It’s okay to need to take the edge off. After the afternoon you’ve just had.”
“That’s not how-” a part of your brain tried to fight the building arousal.
You closed your eyes, instantly opening them again at Steve’s warning hiss. In his eyes danced a glint of triumph - bright and cold like a blade pulled straight from the forgery.
“Not like this.” You muttered, embarrassed with how eager your body was to experience the little thrill of being caressed with something that could so easily hurt you.
Sex as a way of destressing wasn’t a foreign concept. Hell, an orgasm or two often helped you relieve some tension after dealing with daily obstacles and minor inconveniences. You’d even agree about needing one to burst you out of the bubble of shock you fell into today.
But you could do that on your own, not by the hand of the handsome monster who forced himself into your life. And with your own toys - the normal, safe ones.
It was both a relief and a shameful disappointment when Steve withdrew the gun.
“Slide your hand into your panties, Princess,” he brushed the side of the gun against your arm, nudging your wrist.
Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still going like crazy, the beat of it pulsing in your clit.
“Come on,” Steve traced his gun up your arm, then tapped your cheek with it, “be a good girl and put your hand in your panties.”
You knew it wasn’t a request, but a command. No matter if Steve’s voice melted into a soft, thick and sweet like chocolate tone. Slowly, you reached your hand beneath your skirt and under the waistband of your cotton and lace panties.
“That’s it.” Steve brushed his lips over your temple, whispering dirty encouragement. “Now slide your fingers over your pussy. All the way.”
You did as he asked; trembling fingers dipping between your soft folds.
“Now show them to me.” He pulled back slightly.
You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole to cut your shame short, as you lifted your hand up for Steve to see.
Your fingers were sticky with your wetness, a pearly string of slick stretching between them.
“Seems to me that’s exactly how you need it, Princess.” Steve smirked; icy blue of his irises heating into white flame.
A retort was forming on your tongue, but died a second later. When Steve’s mouth closed around your digits and he sucked them clean.
His tongue lavished the crease between your fingers, teasing your rotten mind with a reflection of where else on your body he could use that tongue. Suction of his mouth wasn’t gentle, strumming down your nerves with vibration from his pleased hum. He pulled off, with a lewd swipe of his tongue.
For a millisecond, your gazes locked in quiet suspension.
A blink of an eye and then the gun was back beneath your skirt, while Steve’s lips were capturing yours in a filthy demand. He pushed the barrel past the fabric of your panties this time, hard metal grazing your delicate parts. His dark chuckle in response to your moan reverberated on your lips.
The fingers curled around your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing over your carotid, but not enough to cut off your air. Not yet, at least.
Stars danced in the corners of your vision, heightened pleasure mixed with delicious trepidation filling your body with bubbles of ecstasy unknown to you until now.
Steve angled his gun so that it spread your folds, rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance with each slide. Your hips rocked back eagerly. When he pushed a little deeper, pressing the muzzle into your opening, you almost seized.
One of your hands flew to Steve’s forearm, holding onto the wrist of his hand which was choking you. The other fisted his shirt near the collar. You let out a startled cry that turned from appalled to needy.
“Give it up, Princess,” Steve teased your bottom lip with his tongue, all the while nudging the muzzle into your cunt.
Muscles in your legs tensed, your eyes shimmered with tears that weren’t of sadness or pain. You were ashamed of your reaction to the filthy debauchery, but you wanted, needed it so badly.
“I’m gonna have you cum for me anyway, so just let go.”
That demand was sharper. Steve’s fingers on your throat tightened, cutting off the flow of air. At the same time, he pushed the gun deeper. Merely an inch or two slipped inside, but it was enough to feel your pussy stretch around it.
Your climax was an outburst with sharp edges, each tremor feeling like an electric current. Your cries sounded choked, though Steve released his hold on your neck enough for the air to flow easily into your lungs.
The gun wasn’t inside you anymore, but he kept moving it harshly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm to a point of painful throb that threatened to build into another humiliation if he continued longer.
If he slid the gun back, or his cock into your quivering cunt, you’d probably lose your conscience. While cumming all over him again.
Finally, Steve eased the pressure. He occupied your lips with sensual kisses, slow and lingering, and tongue dipping indecently into your mouth. The gun withdrew from your panties, the fabric clinging to your drenched pussy in an embarrassingly uncomfortable way.
Your arms fell to your sides when Steve let go of your neck and straightened. He wiped his gun, covered with your slick, in your skirt, then secured it back in the holster at his side.
“There now. Isn’t it better?” You weren’t certain if he was mocking you, or if it was a pure cocky smugness.
You were gaping at him, your breath still ragged. Your legs were shaking and your heart was hammering, but there was warmth and life and a vivid feeling of anger resurfacing. No longer the cold stupor of shock and fear.
No, Steve beckoned your brain back to reality. After short circuiting it.
“Better?” You hissed, clenching your hands into fists. “You pointed a gun at me!”
“And you creamed all over it, Princess.” Steve’s knowing smirk added to your shame.
“You shot someone!” You derailed, unable (and unwanting) to unpack the mess of your body’s reaction to being fucked with a gun.
“Just straight up shot them. In broad daylight!” It was now reaching your mind that all the terrors and dirty deeds, which have happened in the past half an hour, didn’t take place in the deep darkness of the night. It was a sunny afternoon, with people walking the streets just outside the front door of an ordinary apothecary.
“They would’ve hurt you,” came Steve’s remorseless reply.
Simple and direct, spoken in a warning growl.
“Nobody hurts what’s mine.”
There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin.
It was a dark claim, making you into Steve’s possession. His protection of you came only from the need to have his pride untouched - if anyone managed to steal or hurt his bride, it weakened Steve’s ruthless reputation.
“Now let’s get you out of here, so my cleaning team can swipe in.” Steve motioned at you to follow him as he moved toward the exit.
Your feet were frozen to the spot. There was a dead body of a man between you and the door; the pool of blood inches away from your toes. You definitely wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t simply make yourself jump over someone’s corpse.
Steve’s impatient sigh was motivating - you did not want to get on his nerves too much. But your body wasn’t listening to any of your commands. As it didn’t listen to you when you tried to fight off the arousal earlier.
Suddenly, you were picked up.
Steve hoisted you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. He carried you over Duvall’s dead body and through the narrow corridor, ignoring your outraged squeak.
“All that blood and death, you really need to focus on lighter things from now on.” He said conversationally, tone light as if aforementioned gore was just a chore from which one needed to take a break.
“For a while, at least-” Steve continued, as he carried you out the front- “Wedding planning should help with that.”
“No! I don’t want it!” You protested, kicking your legs.
With what just happened, you couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to organize a fucking wedding. One you didn’t want in the first place. You couldn’t imagine going back to your routine, daily life at all.
You just weren’t sure if it was the deaths you witnessed that changed your life forever, or the wrong kind of desire that Steve brought out of you.
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But you will.” He put you down on your feet once you were outside.
Steve cupped your chin, crushing it painfully between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.
“We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess.”
#touch the darkness#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#dark!steve rogers#dark mafia!steve rogers#dark mafia!steve rogers x reader#dakr mafia!steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers imagine#my writing
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My Dungeon Meshi Modern AU Thoughts Instead of Writing My Economics Research Paper lmao
Ughhhh,,,, okay have been thinking about them all day and if one person manages to make it through the void and hear me out and talk about them with me then I’ll be happy lol.
WARNING: this is stupidly long, like I spent an absurd time writing every single little detail down. With that being said here we go:
cw//mentions and minor graphic descriptions of death, bullying, discrimination, injury, abuse, trauma, mental health issues, and abandonment
• Laios
- currently 26 and living with his sister Falin
- studying zoology part-time at the local college
- mostly does night classes since he works 1-2 jobs during the day to help pay for his and Falin’s tuition and apartment
- he and Fallin took their dog Muimui when they moved out, they also feed the local stray cats
- lived on a farm with his sister and parents when he was a kid, and is where his love of animals comes from
- however did not have the best of childhoods, as he was a frequent target for bullying due to having undiagnosed autism, and his father was very much a “nothing is wrong with you, toughen up the world isn’t going to coddle you” kind of person
- this was further cemented when he cried going hunting with his dad for the first time and refused to eat any of the deer or rabbit they had caught
- his mom had her own mental health problems that she was never diagnosed for, so often she fell into the same mindset as her husband when it came to Laios’ and Fallin’s behaviour, only she was more erratic due to her fear of one or both of her kids becoming like her
- never forgave his father after he sent Fallin off to a private middle/high school far away from their home, little did he know it was because the severe bullying Fallin was receiving was too much for her, and he wanted to send her away before she got hurt or worse
- nearly tried to run away at 16, however was caught by the police almost immediately and returned home
- completed his high school diploma and took off with Muimui without even saying goodbye to his parents, Fallin nearly joined him in the city but since she was still under guardianship of her parents, she couldn’t leave until she became an adult
- once graduated, she reunited with Laios in his apartment where they now live
- works nearly full-time at Senshi’s restaurant and works part-time as a janitor at their local zoo (he wants to be close to the animals lol)
- very busy but he makes it work, Marcille and Kabru have no idea how he does it without any meds or caffeine
- either has a worn out picture of him and Falin with their old dogs, or has a hand-made drawing of his theoretical strongest monster in his pocket that he looks at whenever he needs inspiration
- both him and Falin live wayyy out of the city center since rent is fucking abysmal downtown
- insists on taking the bus or walking everywhere since taxis and buying a bike costs too much, even if the commute is like 2 hours with 3 transfers
- despite this, he still has a drivers license
- the kind of guy you would expect to be eating leafy green tofu bowls from your local hipster vegan bistro, but is actually the kind of guy who eats the dubious $4 ground beef chubs and off-brand deli ham from walmart
- socks and slides with free college club t-shirts and cargo pants from the gap that come with like 50 pockets so he can carry all his stuff (the stuff mostly being dog treats and loose bird feed) bro has no drip aside from one outfit put together by Marcille
- uses the same highlighter blue and yellow adidas backpack he’s had since middle school, carries literally everything in there
- doesn’t listen to music, but if he does it’s rain/nature sounds with the $2 headphones you get from the dollarstore
- not much of a gym freak and usually just goes casually, prefers sports to working out (will have a protein shake but does not invest in creatine or other pre-workout supplements)
- either uses the same recyclable water bottle with the label torn off from a pack of 50 he got 3 years ago, or just uses one of his protein shake bottles I can’t decide
- hangs out with Marcille and Falin the most often (since Marcille constantly makes excuses to study with Falin at their apartment), sometimes gets smoothies or juice with Kabru if they run into each other
- hangs out with Senshi and Chilchuck less often, their time spent together is usually limited to having a beer after closing the restaurant or meeting together with everyone else to have dinner every couple months
- goal is to become a wildlife biologist when he graduates
- more to add if I think of it
• Fallin
- currently 23 and lives with Laios
- in her second year of studying veterinary medicine at their city’s main university
- grew up with Laios and her parents on their farm, also developed a deep love and appreciation for animals early on, but while Laios was more interested in the study of their behaviour, she was more interested in healing them
- also has undiagnosed autism like her brother, only when it came to her behaviours, she stood out a lot more and was subsequently bullied heavily for stimming, having major sensitivities to light and sound, self-isolating, talking to inanimate objects or “ghosts”, having a special interest in things like bugs or plants, and having a very specific schedule that adults had to help her with
- never really understood why adults or other children treated her differently, as she thought it was normal for everyone, however was still affected by having no friends aside from her brother during her younger years
- the bullying got so bad that kids began physically tormenting her, and since she never told Laios (who was in middle school and couldn’t always be with her), there was essentially no one to defend her
- very sadly culminates in an incident where she was intentionally locked in a graveyard overnight, and although she didn’t sustain any injuries she was fairly traumatized by the event, it was the final straw for her father to send her away to a private school at 12 years old to finish her education
- moved to a different city the next year where she stayed in dormitories, had her own room due to enrolling late
- also initially had a hard time making friends, and often cried since she couldn’t be with Laios, however no one bullied her for her autism and most often ignored her or gossiped
- had Marcille as a “buddy” to help her get acclimated to school life, however their relationship was quite awkward initially as Marcille thought she was unnerving and frankly a little stupid, however was completely shocked at Fallin’s nearly perfect grades
- school policy at that time stipulated that students had to return to the main hall for dinner at a certain time, however when Fallin doesn’t show up, Marcille has to look for her
- she finds Fallin at her secret hangout spot, similar to her dungeon in the anime, a corner with a group of trees and thick bushes that opened up into a grassy nook and a little pond, there they talk about what she does there and why she skips
- also similar to the anime, a fox (rather than a slime) catches them by surprise, but as Marcille tries to get it to run away by throwing rocks at it, Fallin stops her and explains it never comes closer than the tree line, she then points out that hurting while it’s already injured (has a slight limp) will cause it to die, allowing for the prey animals like squirrels and rabbits to eat away at most of the fauna surrounding the school, basically emphasizing the importance of all animals in an ecosystem and how it’s wrong to try and shift the ecosystem solely for our comfort or benefit (cheesy I know but it’s for the plot)
- she then offers Marcille the raspberries that grow on some of the bushes, and soon after Marcille asks if she would like to be friends
- they remain as friends in school only for another year, as Marcille graduates early and leaves Fallin behind much to her heartbreak, however does promise that she’ll visit and reunite with her soon
- by the time she graduates, she moves in with Laios and begins attending the same university as Marcille, there their friendship is reaffirmed, and they both start to develop feelings for one another
- full-time student but does work a few shifts at one of her university’s coffee shops whenever she can (tends to feel guilty about Laios helping her out with tuition on top of taking care of everything at home)
- in the honours program, and although she gets good grades her commitment is often questioned due to her habit of skipping
- reason for skipping is because she often does volunteer work at a nearby veterinary clinic
- unlike Laios, Fallin likes to bike to and from her classes
- it’s her main source of exercise, though she also does go to the gym if she has time, girl is absolutely built and is much stronger than she appears
- lives off of daily sweet treats and fried bologna sandwiches or tomato soup made by Laios
- frequently raids the raspberry bush growing outside hers and Laios’ apartment building, as well as the crabapple tree that technically belongs to the house next door but has its branches growing over the fence separating them
- also does not rely on excessive caffeine, but she does enjoy tea and coffee unlike Laios
- has a fjällräven backpack that Marcille gifted her for her birthday, mostly full of her textbooks but she does use it to carry rocks or sticks she finds interesting
- water bottle is a very dented bright pink hydro flask (also gifted to her by Marcille)
- has the jean shorts, tucked in t-shirt, and long cardigan look on lockdown, also wears hiking boots or converse, rarely is she seen in flipflops
- no make-up either, Marcille had to practically beg her to at least start using a clear lipgloss
- isn’t picky about music and usually just listens to whatever Marcille or Laios plays, sometimes she indulges in some lofi hiphop beats if she’s studying
- obviously best friends with Marcille but does not know she has a crush on Marcille, and thinks that her intense feelings of love and happiness are just normal girl friendship feelings (oh you poor thing)
- only vaguely knows of Senshi through the leftover food Laios sometimes brings home after his shifts, with Chilchuck she is more familiar since she sometimes visits him with Marcille on the weekends
- favourite thing is when her, Laios, Marcille, Izutsumi, Chilchuck, and Senshi all gather to get dinner together
- when it comes to her parents, she still maintains contact unlike Laios, though her messages tend to be generalized or cordial (not necessarily her intention it’s just she isn’t sure what to talk about in regards to her life beyond school)
- goal is to become a travelling wildlife vet
- more to add when I think of it
• Marcille
- is currently 26 and lives by herself (due to it being a modern au I’m imagining all races have the same lifespan of around 70-80 years)
- had probably the most normal upbringing and early adulthood out of all of the characters, both of her parents were very loving and attentive, always encouraging her and supporting her keen intellect through her hobbies
- however, they weren’t always around due to being very busy as government lawyers and often working late, she has very distinct memories of winning math and science awards as a child, looking out towards the crowd only to see her parents weren’t there
- was generally quite lonely during her childhood since she had no siblings or cousins to play with, a similar situation at school where most kids considered her stuck up or bossy when in reality she was just smart and was blunt about telling people when they were wrong about something
- is very close with Chilchuck, having known him and his family since she was little, although them all getting together was fairly rare, some of her fondest memories have been when they’d go on family trips together and she would get to play with Chilchuck’s daughters
- lost touch with him from ages 9-15 but reunited with him at 16 while he crashed at their place after his work injury and during his divorce, became very close with him during this time and developed a deep familial fondness for him despite all his teasing
- at 19 years old, she suffered a great deal of mental anguish as Chilchuck began to lose contact with her, Fallin was considering moving to a different city for university, and her father died due to a very sudden and unexpected stroke, she felt as though everyone in her life was slipping through her grasp and as a result, developed severe depression that would last until she completed her masters
- luckily, she had a good support system during that time and she was able to make it through the worst of it, however she still does struggle with motivation over simple tasks such as doing her hair or brushing her teeth
- her mood and outlook is much better though, having mostly returned to the same bubbly and dramatic personality that she once had
- is best friends with Fallin, and met her while at private school, mostly explained above, but her initial reaction of Fallin was quite negative before switching around after she realized that her way of thinking isn’t always the right one, even if the facts are right, her perspective and way of interpreting them isn’t always going to be sound
- this new perspective is what caused Marcille to become so enamoured with Fallin, eventually becoming a stupid crush that sticks with her to this day
- has her own studio apartment downtown, brand new building and everything (both parents are government lawyers so you can imagine the kind of money she has lmao)
- has a fawn floppy-eared bunny named Ambrosia
- despite her wealth, she doesn’t look down on her friends whatsoever, if anything she buys them expensive gifts as an act of kindness rather than an act of arrogance or condescension
- in the middle of attaining her phd in microbiology while doing independent research specializing in the study of telomere function
- attends the same university as Fallin
- graduated from high school at 16 and was done with her undergraduate by 19 and her masters by 21, a lot of people tend to think she’s full of herself but she often disregards them as people who don’t try hard enough
- born to carry her baby blue apple ecosystem in a cute tote bag, forced to haul her 7 biology textbooks in an ugly ass dark purple swissgear backpack she picked out when she was 12
- she has an unhealthy addiction to coffee and diet coke, literally cannot function without at least one per day
- cannot cook to save her life, lives exclusively off of pre-made grocery store meals or the sandwiches her university’s grab-n-go store sells, the kitchen aid mixer in her kitchen is practically a decoration at this point
- is actually the kind of person to be eating the leafy green tofu bowl from the local hipster vegan bistro
- has her own car and license, but lives close enough to her university to walk, Laios cannot fathom why she pays insurance every month for it but hardly uses or let anyone else use it
- I personally think she likes to rollerblade too
- jogging is her main form of exercise, but will also do yoga or calisthenics occasionally, probably the type of person to fall for a juice cleanse scam until Laios or Chilchuck scolds her for not eating enough
- I feel like she would be an intense swiftie (sorry :3) other than that, she likes the typical pop radio stuff that is played constantly
- at least she’s not a Stanley cup girl, she will use her scuffed gallon water bottle with the printed times of day until she dies
- very fashionable and loves to wear makeup, like wide leg pants or pleated skirts with penny loafers and cutesy blouses, a firm believer that any Korean makeup brand is far superior than anything Sephora could offer
- practically attached to the hip with Fallin, girl will find any excuse to study with her (the most pathetic sapphic ever someone put her out of her misery)
- otherwise, she’s buddy-buddy with Laios and Kabru but that’s about the extent of it, she’s known Chilchuck since she was little so he’s like an uncle to her
- she is quite friendly with Senshi and enjoys his cooking but hasn’t known him for a long time like the others, Izutsumi she treats like a little sister/niece and is always buying her things
- more to add when I think of it
• Chilchuck (you can tell he’s my fav because he has one of longest backstories lmao)
- currently 49 and living with Senshi and Izutsumi
- owns a two bedroom bungalow outside of downtown but still within the city, saved up for it after his divorce
- used to live in the suburbs with his ex-wife and daughters, but before that it was a shitty apartment close to where Laios lives now
- teen father, had Mayjack when he and his wife were 17 and had to graduate early so they could move out, they had Fullertom soon after and then Puckpatty by the time they were both 20, they got married at 22
- since neither could afford university at the time, Chilchuck went straight into a locksmithing trades program so he could have a decent income, his father had instilled a deep sense of responsibility and honour towards being a provider so he threw himself into his work which caused his and his wife’s initial frustration with one another
- when he was done apprenticing and when the kids were old enough to go to school, his wife went to university to begin studying teaching so she could become a professor, despite having to be home more often, Chilchuck still remained somewhat emotionally detached from his family
- by the time his daughters entered middle school, they had bought a house in the suburbs and his wife became qualified to teach
- feeling pressured by the mortgage, debt, and having to save for his daughter’s college, he began drinking more and taking a lot more hours at work, if he wasn’t working he was at the bar with his coworkers, he often didn’t come home until it was very late
- the final straw for his wife was when he showed up to work severely hungover and exhausted, then proceeded to nearly die in a home renovation project (passed out standing up and fell of a 20ft scaffolding, broke his hip and pelvis pretty badly as well as his humerus and quite a few of his ribs, also had a life-threatening brain bleed due to a skull fracture)
- at that point, all three of his daughters were already in university or trade school so his wife moved out and sold their house while Chilchuck was recovering in the hospital, she moved into a townhouse closer to the city’s main university where she still lives now with Fullertom
- having basically nothing in his savings, he crashed at Marcille’s parent’s place until he could save up a bit and get an apartment or townhouse (he and Marcille’s dad were friends in high school), essentially lived on their couch for about two years
- during this time, he became known as “Uncle Chil” by 16 year old Marcille and he developed a close uncle/niece relationship with her
- teased her as much as any uncle would, but also took her out shopping every couple of months, could never afford the stuff she wanted but he always got her lunch
- eventually, he saved up enough for the down payment of the two bedroom bungalow he lives in now and moved in, initially lost touch with Marcille but started being there for her more after her dad died, even began getting in touch with his daughters again at Marcille’s suggestion
- from then on, he took his work life more easily and tried to make time for himself in between shifts so that he didn’t feel he needs to drink himself stupid every time he came home, tried to pick up multiple hobbies and eventually settled on pottery making and brewing his own alcohol (that he sells…. mostly lol)
- meets Senshi at 42 when he is called in to install the locks and security system of the new restaurant Senshi is building, initially they had not been super friendly with each other, as Chilchuck found it infuriating how Senshi kept on wanting changes to be made to his security system, and how he was basically a walking construction accident waiting to happen
- once everything was finished however, Senshi offered Chilchuck a free dinner at his place as an apology for being stubborn, and unable to say no to free food (and alcohol) Chilchuck agrees
- they become friends after the dinner, however proceed to dance around each other for another 4 years until Marcille threatens to tell Senshi about Chilchuck’s feelings if he doesn’t confess himself
- Chilchuck does eventually confess (during a very charged “guy’s trip” to a resort in Mexico) and they start dating, after the trip, Senshi and Izutsumi move into Chilchuck’s place where they still currently live
- thanks to living with Senshi, Chilchuck adopts a more healthy lifestyle where he stops smoking, eats more, and drinks less, in return, he helps Senshi manage Izutsumi during her teen years as well as help out around his restaurant when he has time
- is generally living comfortably now, with a nice salary and more free time to commit to his hobbies, despite this he still deeply cares about his work and is a union man at heart who is always willing to rally behind his coworkers and organize when something happens
- mostly listens to 80s dad rock and some 90s grunge, is very proud of his CD collection
- dresses similar to Laios, however ditches the college club t-shirt and cargo shorts for polos shirts and chino shorts or dress shirts and casual slacks, also wears tacky boomer sandals for his feet or his construction boots
- drives a land rover defender that he bought in high school, cares for it deeply but isn’t a car guy by any means, he does the bare minimum maintenance to keep it safe and functional
- carries his minimal stuff in a sling bag and lunch cooler, but he also has a survival backpack in the back of his land rover for emergencies
- is a Stanley cup owner, has two, one from the 70s that his dad gave to him, and another white modern one from Marcille, his older one is covered in princess stickers from when his daughters were young
- pretentious black coffee drinker, makes fun of Izutsumi all the time for the amount of simple syrup and cream she puts into her iced coffee
- is okay at cooking, but is definitely more of a grill master, never ask him to deep fry anything though
- is also surprisingly handy thanks to the skills his dad passed onto him, speaking of his family, he isn’t very close to his mother and siblings since they all moved back to their home continent after Chilchuck graduated, he still sometimes travels alone on special holidays or on the anniversary of his father’s death but only if he can afford it
- is now a supervisor of his own crew, initially he wanted to own his own locksmith company, but he also wants to retire soon so he needs to save up as much as he can
- has two main friend groups, one he refers to as “the freaks” which includes Laios, Marcille, Fallin, Kabru, Izutsumi, and Senshi, and the other he refers to as “work” which includes Namari, Mickbell, Kuro, and Dandan
- is closest to Senshi and Marcille, seeing them as his family, however is a bit more distant with Izutsumi since he doesn’t want to automatically take on a “step-dad” role in her life, the reasoning mainly stems from his respect of her and her decisions on who she gets to let in her life, but is also because he wants to avoid things becoming awkward between them
- is, if not begrudgingly, friendly with Laios and Fallin, deep down he cares about them more than he lets on, is mostly cordial with Kabru
- is surprisingly close to Namari, however they keep their relationship strictly within their workplace and the bar they sometimes hit up afterwards
- is closer to his ex-wife and daughters now, having dinner once a month at his ex-wife’s house, they still haven’t really reconciled but they’ve allowed each other to move on
- more to add when I think of it
• Senshi (also super long please forgive me)
- is currently 52 and living with Chilchuck and his adopted daughter Izutsumi
- lives in Chilchuck’s house, but used to own a condo near the restaurant he used to work for
- when he was a child, he lived on an entirely separate continent in the remote far north, the village he grew up in was known for its mining industry, most of the community including his parents were miners, however an accident killed his father and cancer killed his mother when he was a baby, so his father’s friend Gillin took Senshi in when he was 2
- due to the mining culture surrounding the village, it was expected that Senshi also become a miner when he grew up, this coupled with the hyper-masculine ideas of honouring his late father and carrying on the bloodline, made Senshi not really put in much effort into school since he believed it had no use for him, a decision that would later hinder his career and degree options greatly
- once graduated from high school, Gillin immediately had Senshi take his safety courses and get his certification so he could get a job as soon as possible, with some references from Gillin himself, Senshi was able to land a beginner’s position within the company Gillin was in
- worked 7 years mining coal until the mine ran dry and he had to look for work elsewhere, jumped positions between 3-4 companies over another 8 years mining iron and copper until he landed a 2 year contract at a remote but booming silver mine
- was put into a 6 man team composed of himself, Gillin, Brigan, Invar, Totan, and Noor, where they would descend into a highly unregulated and dangerous mountain mine and extract the massive veins of silver, they all were paid well, but the conditions were next to abysmal
- 1 year and 9 months into the contract, a rockslide on the south side of the mountain caused a cheap tunnel support to collapse over the only exit leading out of the stope they were mining in, effectively trapping them indefinitely
- luckily they had a ventilation shaft, but none of them could fit inside and escape or yell for attention since they were trapped over 200ft deep and 500ft in the mountain, so their only option was to ration their food and wait for help to arrive
- they do try to escape in other ways, such as mining through the collapsed support, however this only leads to injury among the group, and as much as Senshi wanted to help, he was under strict instruction by Gillin not to over-exert himself, even though he wasn’t a kid anymore, he still had the most strength and wits among them all, this also results in him receiving the most food much to Brigan’s rage
- in an attempt to be useful, Senshi started drawing up the maps of the mine to see if there was a tunnel close by they could mine into
- as more time passes and they realized no one would be coming to help them, their escape attempts become much more desperate, one attempt to blow up the collapsed tunnel entrance with their remaining explosives leads to the death of Totan, another attempt to start mining over the collapsed tunnel entrance leads to the death of Noor, one last attempt to remove the panelling lining the ventilation shaft so they could be able to fit through leads to the death of Invar, leaving only Brigan, Gillin, and Senshi left
- after six weeks of being trapped under ground, Brigan mentally snaps and tries to cannibalize Senshi so they could eat his flesh, this leads to a physical altercation between Gillin and Brigan which ends in an unstable overhang of rock to collapse and crush Brigan and for Gillin to succumb to his wounds and exhaustion
- alone and starving, Senshi realizes he is now skinny enough to fit through the ventilation shafts and crawl his way out, he uses a combination of ropes and support spikes to help aid him, but soon quickly realizes he mostly has to navigate in the dark
- for two more weeks, Senshi follows the map he memorized and the feeling of airflow to make his way out, only surviving off of his remaining water, in the end he managed to crawl out of a shaft just outside the mining camp
- relived and also deeply saddened, Senshi remains near the shaft until some workers doing a perimeter check find him in the morning, he is promptly taken into the hospital to treat his injuries
- after explaining the situation to the police and his boss, his boss offers him a $30,000 payout to keep quiet and say nothing, the officers say it is possible to take his boss and the company to court, however it would likely put him into massive debt trying to find a good lawyer, in the end Senshi takes the money and leaves the camp for his village
- what’s left to him by Gillin is another $50,000 in savings and property assets, the rest is given to his remaining family, the first thing Senshi buys with the money is his adamantine pot and mythril knife, using both to make a soup Gillin would often feed him, and leaving five bowls of it outside of the collapsed silver mine before moving out of his village for good at aged 35
- he moves to the continent and city where all the other characters are currently living, buying his condo and deciding to enter into 4 year culinary school program
- during these 4 years, Senshi comes to realize that cooking is his true passion, finding it immensely rewarding and fulfilling, and even though he didn’t make many friends due to his unorthodox taste and recipes, it was still the most happy he’s ever been
- about 1 year after graduating and getting a job as the main line cook for a high end restaurant, Senshi meets and adopts 5 year old Izutsumi
- he initially sees her wandering around the green belt outside and behind the restaurant, kicking rocks and occasionally running and hiding in trees, he was always worried she was homeless, however would always see she was gone by the time he was done his shifts
- around five months of this, Izutsumi notices and begins to approach Senshi, as if she had wanted food, Senshi would usually offer some of his packed lunches or leftovers and she would always accept and sit next to him while they ate
- Izutsumi usually never spoke but was always ravenous, Senshi often worried that she was being abused, but whenever he would ask she would always say no, and since she was a healthy weight and never had any bruises or welts, Senshi reluctantly believed her, after that though he began packing more food
- eventually, a woman (Maizuru) approaches Senshi after one of his shifts and bluntly asked if he would like to take care of Izutsumi from then on, baffled he asked who she was and why she knew he was feeding Izutsumi, and she explained that she is her caretaker
- she also explained that since Izutsumi seemed to trust and respect Senshi the most, that he would be the best person to give her a chance at a normal life and raise her into an adjusted adult, due to the fact that she has no regard or interest or respect in her or the rest of her foster family, she then conceded that her question was rather sudden, but still implored Senshi to take her into his care or otherwise she would be forced into an orphanage
- thinking of Gillin, and with the wound of his crew’s death still in his mind Senshi, perhaps impulsively, agrees to take Izutsumi in, much to Maizuru’s delight and thankfulness
- the next day, she returns with Izutsumi and her things and tells Senshi that she will handle most of the legal paperwork aside from the few forms that he will have to sign
- from that point onward, he took care of Izutsumi and made sure she got through school, although she wasn’t completely responsive and obedient, he was still very patient and understanding with her, except for the first few times she would keep on running away from school to join him for his lunch breaks
- they have a very trusting relationship with one another, and Senshi is the only one Izutsumi will open up to, Senshi often encouraged her talent of athleticism by signing her up for various sports, he was and still is very attentive towards her needs and is always feeding her the things she likes (and dislikes)
- Senshi works at the restaurant for another 9 years, simultaneously saving up for his own restaurant and saving for Izutsumi’s college, at age 45 he meets Chilchuck during the construction of his restaurant and they form a close friendship
- subsequently, he is introduced to Marcille, Fallin, Laios, and even Kabru, but still mostly interacts with Chilchuck and Itsuzumi
- however he is quite close with Laios since he works as a server at his restaurant and is very enthusiastic about his cooking technique, flavour pallet, and types of dishes he serves
- at age 49, he officially opens his restaurant and starts dating Chilchuck, the three of them all move in together and become a household unit
- is now very happy with where he is at in life, works and manages his restaurant while still making time for Izutsumi and her hobbies, is very close with Chilchuck and becomes the first person he opens up to about his past and what he went through, generally the grossest and most sappiest old couple you will ever meet
- made a Senshi-sized hole deep into the fabric of Chilchuck’s home, converting his backyard into a full vegetable and flower garden that he maintains, is super proud about it and often leaves the prettiest flowers on Chilchuck’s side of the bed or in a vase on Izutsumi’s bedside table
- head-chef and owner of his restaurant, his favourite part is being able to cook what he wants for a very specific audience (people like Laios)
- his food is not super high-end but also not like a family diner either, a healthy mix of both, like kid friendly while still being classy and opulent enough to take someone out on a date there
- drives his beloved suzuki carry to and from work every day, does a good job maintaining it on his own despite it being boring according to him
- I honestly don’t really know what Senshi would listen to, I feel like the most in character for him would be folk music from his home country or bossa nova i can’t really decide
- coffee with lots of sugar but no cream or milk, prefers drinking black tea with milk and honey if he has a choice
- bag is a basic backpack with minimal items like wallet, keys, lipbalm, mints, etc… always has a change of clothes in case his gets dirty at work, also has extra hair and beard nets, some stuff for Izutsumi is in there too
- water bottle is also a vintage stanley cup, but his is wayyy more dented than Chilchuck’s and older (from like the 50s) refuses to buy anything else until it is unusable, has had the same piece of duct tape sealing a leak near the bottom for the past 20 years
- also can’t decide if he’s a t-shirt or Hawaiian shirt kind of guy, probably a healthy mix of both, also mostly wears shorts or a kilt-like garment native to his home country, lives exclusively in sandals you will never find him in close-toed shoes unless he’s working
- funny story deriving from this fact, the first impression Chilchuck ever had of Senshi (aside from “damn he’s kinda hot”) was “oh my god how the fuck is this guy not dead” due to the fact that Senshi showed up to the construction sight with flip flops, no safety helmet, and no safety vest on whatsoever
- more to add when I think of it
• Izutsumi (still a cat-girl in this universe)
- currently 17 and living with Senshi and Chilchuck
- used to live with the Nakamoto’s as a foster child, however hated living there due to the unfamiliarity and attempts at sweeping her past trauma under the rug and refusing to treat her for it
- life before the Nakamoto’s is fuzzy, it’s implied by her councillor and confirmed by Maizuru later on that she was raised by her mother until she died or abandoned her at 3 years old, was then placed into the care of another foster home who physically and verbally abused her, keeping her chained up in the basement most of the day and hardly feeding her, if not forgetting about her all together
- she was taken in by the Nakamoto’s at aged 4, and had a very hard time managing her due to her stunted social skills, anger issues, and delayed language development manifesting itself in avoidance behaviours such as running away and lashing out violently
- had frequent nightmares during this time, resulting in her becoming very clingy during the night
- would often run away to the green belt close to her house, the same green belt that was connected to Senshi’s restaurant
- initially only approached him because of the smell of food, her prior abuse and malnutrition resulted in an early form of binge eating, so she often sought any sight, smell, or taste food as a way of safety and comfort
- unlike all her previous caretakers, she found Senshi to not be malicious or uncaring towards her, especially after he started sharing and bringing food for her, her ease around him didn’t go unnoticed by Maizuru who then offered Senshi the deal to take care of her
- initially hated living in Senshi’s condo since the small space reminded her of the basement she was kept in, but soon found it to be much more comfortable if she could smell the food Senshi would make
- Received counselling for her trauma and slowly began to get better, however she would still frequently act out or skip school as a coping mechanism, however, Senshi helped her regulate her energy and emotions through signing her up for various sports, she did volleyball, hockey, wrestling, swimming, etc… until she settled on gymnastics and Muay Thai
- has somewhat of a complex towards love and attachment, in that she doesn’t fully believe an individual cares for her or loves her so will often do whatever she likes both because she doesn’t think it affects the other person that much and because it will prevent people from wanting to get close to her and have a meaningful relationship, a complex that stems from her past abuse
- is now in a much better headspace than she was in, as she has two caretakers who are patient and understanding with her, but are also willing to discipline her and prepare her for the outside world, she also has a good external support system and even a friend at school whom she often hangs out with
- she is currently in her junior year of high school, with decent grades, but only because Senshi and Chilchuck want her to do well so she has more options for university
- her best subjects are science, phsy ed., english, has a hard time with social studies and math
- her one friend her age is Tade as they both are frequently sent to the after-school homework program to help improve their grades, Izutsumi is usually good at shouldering off her homework to her in exchange for ice cream or food, but she’s usually caught and forced to do double the work
- Tade is also a foster kid of the Nakamoto’s, in fact she was the one Izutsumi would usually go to sleep with if she had a nightmare, so they never hang out at her house and either stay at Izutsumi’s house or hang out at the local park/mall
- is very talented athletically, and has won multiple awards at gymnastics and Muay Thai competitions
- still a ravenous eater, but with a crazy fast metabolism so she gains almost no weight, still picky with vegetables and mushrooms but will still eat them as long as their hidden in her food well enough
- coffee flavoured milk drinker, if there’s even a hint of bitterness in her coffee she’s throwing it out
- is into most old alternative or indie rock, appreciates Chilchuck’s taste in music immensely, she’s been learning how to play the bass recently
- has been learning basic recipes from Senshi and can manage a few dishes on her own, is much better at baking overall, never leave her alone with the blowtorch or barbecue though
- aside from sports, she enjoys playing video games and sleeping, she likes mostly storytelling or competitive console games like Skyrim, God of War, and Call of Duty
- bag is a simple black backpack that has all of her papers and textbooks haphazardly shoved in with no regard for neatness or organization, on a good day a pencil will be in there too
- water bottle is non-existent, she uses drinks from the school water fountain as an excuse to get out of class and wander around for a bit
- is old enough to drive and has her license, but doesn’t have her own car yet and still has to catch the bus, if she does drive it’s Senshi’s suzuki, Chilchuck let her drive his land rover once and she backed into a pole
- lives in crop tops and shorts, is actually quite fashionable but doesn’t have the energy or motivation to pull anything off, either wears converse, slides, crocs, or doc martens as footwear, most would describe her style as grunge-ish
- makeup is hit or miss, sometimes she can muster some concealer and eyeliner, but for the most part she just washes her face and nothing else, she is big into jewelry though and likes to wear lots of accessories
- has been allowed to pierce her ears quite extensively, as well as her nose, however both Senshi and Chilchuck have drawn the line at any other face piercings until she’s an adult, much to her dismay
- outside of Senshi, Chilchuck, and Tade, she is probably the most friendly with Marcille and Fallin as they frequently visit and interact with her, Marcille especially loves to spoil Izutsumi with treats and gifts since she never had a little cousin growing up
- Izutsumi likes Fallin for her quietness and ability to keep out of her business, however saw first hand how weird she can be when she held up a massive rhinoceros beetle without even flinching, also when she kept on excusing herself to their backyard to go snack on their strawberry plants
- Laios and Kabru she knows of, also finds Laios to be very weird but is less friendly about it than she is with Fallin, his lack of understanding of social cues also confuses her
- more to add when I think of it
AND THATS IT!!! This was stupidly long, I hope I didn’t bore you to death lol. I’ll probably do another one of these so I can include Chilchuck’s daughters, Kabru, Namari, etc… maybe with some additions to the main cast, but yeah that’s about the extend of it, hope you enjoyed :3
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#laios touden#falin touden#chilchuck tims#senshi of izganda#izutsumi#marcille donato#modern au#farcille#chilshi#labru if you squint#dungeon meshi minor characters#this took me forever I am so exhausted#I kinda wanna make a fic out of this but I have no idea what plot line or what character I should even focus on lmaooo#hooray for hyper-specific character interpretations!!
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Halsin, Drow and submission
Halsin has a complicated history with Lolth-Sworn drow to say the least. Three years of his youth have been stolen to satiate the selfish, dehumanizing pleasure of an influent matron and her man. Let’s not disregard Minthara who threatens the Emerald Grove alongside Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin in Act I. Although Minthara now serves the Absolute, she is a member of the ancient and powerful House Baenre of Menzoberranzan, thus first and foremost a Lolth-Sworn drow. Furthermore, drow cultists also obey her (e.g. the corpse outside of Waukeen's Rest, Narvass in the Shattered Sanctum and the man who attacked Nettie and him). Consequently, we know with certainty that, canonically, Halsin is exposed twice to the infamous cruelty of Lolth-Sworn drow through his captors, then Minthara and her minions.
Halsin also states that he has returned to the Underdark many times. I assume that he did so before his unfortunate capture, but also after his daring escape from Menzoberranzan. It isn’t too far-fetched to think he might have encountered more drow showing their typical Lolth-approved brand of malice. Despite his “misadventure”, as Halsin says himself, he couldn’t stay away from the Underdark’s arguably hottest residents. Why so?
Halsin: Astarion, I am astonished. To relish in intimacy again after such hardship is a wound many never recover from. Astarion: Are you charging for this sage advice, or is sticking your nose into my business just a hobby? Halsin: Jest all you will. I believe now in your honest heart.
This is a sweet albeit clumsy banter. Halsin seems to relate to Astarion’s traumas, however his gauche attempt to empathize and bond is not well received by the spawn. Although Halsin says “many”, he may be speaking from experience. After all, he is not one to be the center of attention, unless it is in a self-sacrificing way, thus I can hardly imagine him using I, especially with such a personal topic.
As aforementioned, Halsin has never left the Underdark once and for all. I suspect that he may have had difficulties to be intimate again after three uninterrupted years of torment and abuse at the hands of the drow couple. His frequent returns to the Underdark may have been a way to claim back what was stolen: his ability to express agency and exercise bodily autonomy, among other things. He is desired by drow because he is an exotic surface dweller, one of a kind. He can handle them now. They cannot hurt him anymore. He knows better. Yet, at the same time, he is objectified. He exposes himself regularly to lovers who are likely to share the same beliefs and ruthlessness as his captors. In order to deal with his traumas, he sought out drow, perhaps to his own detriment. He became a legend. Halsin coped as best he could. From my point of view, this banter isn't solely about one shared experience among survivors, it’s also about Halsin sympathizing with Astarion because he too had to go through a similar recovery process.
I would like to preface this paragraph with the following statement: I do not judge players who refuse to be exposed to the foursome and the dialogue the encounter unlocks. We all have our boundaries and our sensibilities. This being said, Halsin’s traumas are often met with horror and compassion, sometimes too much if it makes any sense. His past experiences are discussed in such a way that they become sacrosanct. Too holy to be used and abused with his consent. Meanwhile, because Halsin is a bear of a man and a deeply caring individual, he tends to be the top/dom in the relationship. His traumas are sanctified, yet simultaneously they’re overshadowed by his nurturing disposition and his glorious hairy body. As if he can solely be a top/dom. As if DU/Tav must only show empathy, kindness and care as a bottom/sub. Yet care is multifaceted.
This is the crux of this post and one of my main gripes with the fandom: Halsin shouldn't be a strict top/dom. In fact, I am persuaded submitting would help him a lot.
Halsin: To give oneself wholly, and to have a lover totally in your thrall…? A harmless game, until it becomes real.
While I believe Halsin would relish any flavor of dom, I am also inclined to think he would request scenes that happened with his captors. In other words, his partner can hardly be a gentle dom only. He would willingly explore his traumas in a risk-aware and consensual environment, with the person he has come to love, trust and rely on the most.
Oftentimes, when survivors enjoy anything remotely close to their trauma(s), such as a kink, when they ask for it and like it, when the exploration and the re-enactment of their trauma(s) are positive, then the public opinion is either worried or downright judgmental. There is not a singular way to cope and heal. BDSM is too often pathologized. It can be curative. Consensual slavery to serve a harsh master, especially a drow DU/Tav, could be healing for Halsin. He hurts himself with the twins (my post), as he oft does, however it may be completely different if he submits to his lover the very same way he has submitted to his captors. This time, his consent will be supreme.
By the way, I don’t aim to enforce a specific hierarchy, however I do believe a Bhaal-made drow/drow Tav would play a unique role. Halsin is traumatized by Lolth-sworn drow.
Sszazar: You are aware you're asking me to kill a drow? Halsin: You drow relish turning on your own, if there's something to be gained. Don't pretend otherwise.
Sometimes, because of traumas, unfair expectations are placed on certain individuals because they are associated with said traumas. It isn't rational, it just happens. So, a relationship with a drow could be more intricate than with any other race while Halsin is finally taking care of himself. Thus, curative BDSM (as in re-enacting traumatizing scenes) may be even more intense with a drow partner.
Sszazar: The mighty bear is an escaped pet, then. I wonder if there is a reward for your return.
It would be a delightful line. To be honest, the [Drow] options available during the dialogue about his past demonstrate the deeper involvement of a drow DU/Tav. This intricacy is also highly visible thanks to Halsin's lack of rage or sadness when the previous option is selected. drow DU/Tav look like his captors. He's still trauma-bound to them.
Lastly, it’s okay to favor dom Halsin over sub Halsin. It’s difficult to write about topics we know nothing about or that we simply don’t like. Nevertheless, it’s unfortunate Halsin isn't more written as a sub, let alone as a sub re-enacting voluntarily past traumas to heal and to enjoy himself. I wonder if Halsin would be more often depicted as a sub and/or bottom if he looked like the average wood elf, less manly and huge.
Bears love to be dominated too.
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Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Summary: A few years after the events of the Upside Down, your life has gotten progressively worse. From overly destructive nightmares causing you to socially isolate and distance yourself, to losing your job and your apartment — you find yourself having to crawl to an unlikely source for help. Your perfect, golden child, older sister (who is oblivious to everything that’s happened in Hawkins, your parents included), and her brand new husband (who also happens to be the guy you’ve been in love with since you were all kids) - Steve Harrington. Faced with no choice but to move in with the happy couple, mutual feelings resurface and trauma is revealed.
Warnings: Language, anxiety, panic attacks, smut, overall NSFW, loss of virginity, slow burn, friends to lovers, masturbation, mutual masturbation, pining, depression, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, handjobs, public sex, cheating, trauma, jealousy, mentions of pregnancy, whole lotta angst in this one, tooth rotting fluff, so much comfort, and MORE!
A/N: This fic… I wanna cry just sharing it with you all. It’s been my baby that I’ve had outlined/been nurturing for about a year now. Inspired by the song I will link above, lyrics included. I can’t wait to take you all on this journey! I have so many plans for this, and I’m incredibly proud to finally announce it! Snippet from my WIP post here, is below this cut.
“I always thought that you two would end up together.” Nancy says, popping a pastel colored candy into her mouth from the hideous glass bowl that’s centered in the middle of the table.
And it’s true, even his first love always knew that he should’ve been with you. It made so much sense. You were one of her best-friends, as Steve had become during these last few years. This whole entire day feels like a horrific fever dream, complete with an itchy lavender puffball dress, lace gloves that made her feel like a flower girl and not a woman nearing her thirties in a couple years’ time. With her hair in the updo from hell, Nancy wants to take you and Robin, and just get the fuck out of this mess.
You sigh heavily, trying to fight back the disgusting amount of bile that keeps threatening to spew from between your lips. Robin reaches out to caress a gentle set of manicured nails along your forearm. “Dumbass dingus.”
#kristenwrites#my work#my writing#stranger things#steve harrington#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n smut#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things angst#stranger things fluff#stranger things smut#Spotify
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭
-navigation || masterlist-
pairing: Dabi x fem! reader
genre: angst
description: what happens when you encounter dabi and hidden secrets from the past are revealed?
requests: OPEN
tw: graphic mentions of wounds as a metaphor, heavy emotional dialogue, a lot of past trauma, mentions of crime and the reader calls Dabi out for being dramatic.
a/n: been thinking about this idea for a while, had pretty good dialogues in mind for it too lol. Finally got around to writing it and kinda got carried away, i hope you guys like it. It is kinnnndaaaaa intense? not VERY intense but yeah. If you guys end ul reading it, can you pleaaaaaaaase reblog and like? it would mean a lot to me and would increase my reach tooo :))))) thank you lovelies, have a great day, XOXOXO
What are you, if not a tapestry of memories and stories woven delicately together, forming you, creating you, giving you life?
They were a part of you whether you liked it or not. No matter how much you wanted to forget some of them, they were burned into your mind like a brand on a horse. But what's worse was that some of them festered, rotting away slowly as a painful reminder of the past, unable to heal.
One such memory was Todoroki Touya, a friend of yours from your childhood. You grew up together, had big dreams... the only difference was that his died, and yours thrived.
The threads that wove to form his memories were charred, a permanent burnt hole in the center of your arras.
You tried to ignore it, but every little thing reminded you of it, of him, and worsened the festering wound his absence had left on you. But there was no need to scratch that wound again and again, no matter how desperate you were. He would have loved to be a part of this mission.
Sighing, you got back to the task at hand: a mission to tail Dabi as the rest conducted their raid.
His quirk was particularly worrisome and caused devastation left and right, a fire that burned loud and blue. Its intensity was unfathomable, the temperature surpassing even that of Endeavor's. And with the oncoming battle, you couldn't be more careful.
"What's the status, Keigo?" you asked in your comms that connected you to your partner for the mission. He was your oldest friend, and together you had reached where you were at this point.
"He is closing in on the left alleyway, your 9 o'clock," he said, and you nodded, discreetly following Dabi while maintaining your distance.
It wasn't rare for you, jobs like these. You were the undercover hero, the one who did work without the public glory. Not that you wanted it... you just did it to save those who couldn't defend themselves.
"Take your next right, and you will be onto him," he said, eyeing both of your moves with his feathers.
"On it," you said, following his directions until you could finally see Dabi's figure walking just a few hundred meters from you.
The alley was dimly lit with a yellow flickering streetlight overhead. A pungent smell of stale water lingered heavily in the atmosphere, making you almost choke due to the stench.
You made sure to keep him in your line of sight, taking every turn with Hawks as surveillance until your path was blocked by a stray cat that had toppled over a trash can with a loud crash.
Cursing under your breath, you sidestepped it. You walked ahead only to realize that your subject had disappeared from your sight.
"Shit. Hawks? Come in, Hawks?" You said in your comms, continuing down the path.
"I've lost sight of the target... Where is he?" you questioned, keeping your voice low.
There was static on the other side, making your eyebrows knit in concentration as you tried to figure out what he was saying.
"Y/n- ... Dabi-... careful-.... h-he...-" and with a click, the comms disconnected.
"Hawks should really try to be more discreet with his feathers, even a cicada is better at hiding." Footsteps echoed in the uncomfortable silence of the alleyway.
You swore, turning around only to come face to face with the person in question... with a burning red feather in his hand.
"Dabi."
The notorious villain himself, one of the worst ones you had ever seen.
"In the flesh... burnt, but hey, technicalities," he replied, a smirk on his face.
You observed him from your distance, watching his moves and preparing yourself for any and every possible attack.
"Calm down, sweetheart, I don't bite," he said, stalking closer to you as he noticed your alertness.
The alley was narrow, with little space between its walls. Movements were restricted for both of you, so you tried your best not to engage.
"Even if you do, I am prepared." You stood rooted in your spot, careful not to wrongly analyze the situation and trigger any response that might cause harm.
He whistled, moving closer to you as his feet stomped in a puddle of muddy water that splashed so loudly one would think something dropped and drowned.
You moved a step back, refusing to let him get close to you. It was a challenging situation because you knew that Dabi was good at both short and long-range attacks.
"Damn, haven't you gotten feisty... never thought I'd see the day," he laughed, combing a hand through his hair.
"Try anything, and you'll see just how feisty I can get," you warned him. You couldn't show fear in front of him. Even the littlest sign of intimidation would make you the prey, and him, the predator.
"Good one... I am impressed," he smiled, his face unsettling you.
Something about him, though, was familiar, but you couldn't place your finger on it. Maybe it was the way he moved, or perhaps a familiar shift in his posture. The way his shoulders hunched, how he turned his head just slightly before he moved—you’d seen this before in the distant past... long ago, but where?
"You know... I never thought I'd see you again," he said.
See you again? What? As far as you knew, you had never met him in your entire life...
"Stop playing games, Dabi. They won't work, and do not take another step closer," you said, raising your hands as you got ready to use your quirk.
"Gonna use your quirk now? Oh geez, you wound me..." he was mocking you, his smirk widening.
"Is that how little you think of me? After everything we've been through?" he said, a look of faux betrayal on his face, which irritated you.
You clenched your jaw, refusing to let his words dig into you. You were told that Dabi was good at mind games, twisting his words just enough to make you question yourself. But this time? You wouldn't let him.
Instead of responding, you took a slow step back, your fingers twitching as you considered activating your quirk. His eyes followed your movements, that unsettling grin never leaving his face. He wasn’t attacking, not yet. He was waiting—biding his time, testing your patience.
But still, his voice crept into your thoughts. The way he said, "after everything we’ve been through," felt too... familiar. Like a half-forgotten memory clawing its way back to the surface.
"You'd be surprised," you taunted him, knowing it was dangerous... but still pushing it.
You blinked, but everything happened too fast. One moment, Dabi was mocking you, and the next—his hands were on yours, gripping them with a force that sent a jolt of panic through your chest.
Your back collided with the cold, rough brick wall, stealing the breath from your lungs. A sharp sting spread across your shoulder blades. No. How had I let him get this close? The heat of his breath mingled with the stench of the alley, suffocating you. But it was his eyes—those blue flames, so close—that paralyzed you in place.
"Oh yeah?" he said, his face just inches away from you.
He brought his other hand up, pulling out your necklace that was tucked inside your suit by its chain.
"Then why do you still wear this?" he tugged on it, his eyes boring into yours.
Somehow, you felt yourself pinned by his gaze, entirely focused on you. There was something about it that felt too personal, too deep, and you didn’t dare look away.
"Do not touch it," you seethed, struggling against his hands but to no avail. He was stronger than you, and you hated that.
"I gave it to you, and I can't even touch it? Come on now," he said, scoffing but dropping it too... too gently for it to be normal.
"What the hell are you saying?" you asked him, stopping for a moment.
"What do you think I mean?" he whispered, eyes narrowing as he urged you to mull over his words.
You glared at him, not giving him the satisfaction of a response.
"Well, that hurts," he laughed, and suddenly a manic smile etched onto his face, and for the first time throughout this conversation, you felt terrified.
"Try, Y/n, try! I know you can do it!" he yelled, his eyes looking at you crazily.
You were breathing hard, trying to make sense of his senseless rambling as his eyes bored into yours—a shade of cyan, just like... just like Touya.
Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage as if trying to break free. No, it couldn’t be. Touya was gone. Dead. They had found his bones. You had mourned him. But those eyes—how could you forget those eyes? The same haunting cerulean gaze from your childhood. It sent a chill down your spine. Could this really be him?
"Touya..." you breathed. The word felt foreign on your tongue, like you were trying to summon a ghost. Your heart stopped for a second, refusing to believe what your eyes were telling you.
No. It can’t be.
He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Ding ding ding. Took you long enough," he said with a manic laugh, but the sound rang hollow, like it wasn’t just mockery but something much more.
Your gaze flickered between his, trying to make sense of it all and find pieces, if any, of Touya Todoroki in him. It had been years since he disappeared. Years since the flames took him away from you. And yet, here he stood—not the boy you had known, but something darker. Something broken. The weight of it pressed on your chest, each breath growing harder to take. The necklace that was once a reminder now felt like a heavy weight against your collarbone, choking you.
Your heart was racing as you tried to process what had just happened. How could this be the same person? The boy you once knew, who had laughed beside you, was now this... this monster. What had gone so wrong? A wave of nausea hit you, grief and anger swirling together, but you forced yourself to stand tall.
He released your hands, observing your face as if he could read your mind, your every thought. You felt exposed, but at the same time, it was he who looked vulnerable.
"Stop it," he said, his face solemn... bearing too much similarity to Touya even with the piercings and burns.
"Stop what?"
"Trying to find Touya in me. He is long gone," he said, a hint of grief in his voice that, if you didn’t know his former self, you would have missed.
But everything inside you broke loose as you scoffed at his words. You were angrier than you had ever been, and your self-restraint was struggling and thrashing to break loose.
"You think I can't see that?" you said, staring at him in disbelief.
"You’ve killed hundreds of people," you hissed, pushing him with every word. "Ruined thousands of lives. Hurt too many to count." You paused, your voice catching in your throat. "And you think—" You pressed a trembling finger to his chest. "You think I would dishonor my Touya by comparing him to you?"
Your voice wavered, betraying your anger, but beneath that anger, there was something else—a plea for him to deny it. To say it wasn’t true. That he wasn’t this... but all you got in reply was silence.
"And you did all that for what?" you spat. "Just because your dad didn’t give you enough attention? Oh please, spare me, Dabi. All you had to do was talk."
Your throat hurt from the pressure of unshed tears, grief controlling every fiber of your being as you continued.
"And what about me then? Wasn't I right there for you? Didn’t I support you? I waited months for you to come back, hoping that maybe you were out there, but you didn’t... and I was a child too!" you cried.
"And now—" you swallowed, wiping at your tears. "Now you're here, hurting the people I care about, all because you lost control of your fire—"
"That's not true!" he interrupted, anger flaring in his eyes. He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. You flinched, your pulse quickening as his anger burned into you.
"I came back. I came back! I went back to my house, but you all had already pronounced me dead!"
"Then what did you want them to do, Dabi? They found your bones! Charred bones! How could they have known you were alive? And couldn't you have come to find me? Is that how little I meant to you?" you asked him, your face a mess of tears and dirt.
He took a deep breath at that, igniting a little hope in you... Was Touya still there?
"I blamed myself. If only I had been there and stopped you, my Touya would have been alive... I had nightmares, thinking about how scared you must have been when the flames went up around you, how painful it must have been, and I couldn't forgive myself," you confessed, your silent tears turning into sobs.
The wound that had been rotting for so long was now exposed, throbbing with pain as you applied a searing knife to it.
"If I had known that Touya had turned into something as horrifying as you... I wouldn’t have wasted my time," you said, the wound in your soul now burning.
"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!" Dabi yelled, his eyes wide as he looked at you.
"You know nothing!" he said, panic in his voice. His hands were scratching at his neck out of frustration, picking at the burnt skin of his jaw. He was getting agitated, and the surroundings were heating up with him.
You could feel the warmth rise, a sense of suffocation dawning on you.
Tears of anger collected in his eyes, threatening to spill, while his hands went back and forth through his hair. You almost felt sorry for him, wondering just how much he had misunderstood to turn out like this. What had he gone through these past years to become... this? Should you even pity him?
"You don’t know what I went through! I was—I was discarded, used, and thrown away! You will never under—" he was saying but was interrupted as the comms crackled back to life.
"Y/n!? Where are you? Y/n, do you copy?" a worried Keigo hurriedly asked.
"I'm coming to get you. Stay where you are!" he added.
You mentally cursed the timing of it all, and as you felt the atmosphere cool down, your gaze lifted to see Dabi. The vulnerability that had briefly surfaced was long gone, replaced by the emptiness that you had first witnessed.
You could feel your heart drop; the Touya you were trying to bring back was now completely gone.
Before you could say anything, though, you heard Hawks' voice calling out to you from above the alley, catching your attention... but as you turned around to say something to Dabi, he was long gone, leaving you in the wake of him as the wound inside you resumed festering.
taglist 🏷️ : @quirrrky @asunflowerana (send an ask to be added xoxoxo)
#bnha#bnha fanart#katsuki bakugo mha#mha bakugou#mha fanart#mha x reader#bnha dabi#dabi#mha dabi#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#touya todoroki#mha touya#touya x reader#bnha touya#touya x y/n#touya x you#shouto todoroki#dabi todoroki#todoroki x reader#dabi angst#dabi fluff#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#fanart#anime#𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 🦋#𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞— 𝐛𝐧𝐡𝐚🥀#anime aesthetic
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https://www.tumblr.com/moonshynecybin/764159761331732480
callie outing myself here for u….two brothers going through the Horrors both manmade and magic in nature, a literally omniscient and ancient vale fascinated by this ant at the center of the universe. spn betrayals go so hard im vibrating rn the man who would be king vale face to the sky asking for a sign from god to tell him what to do. gets nothing. season 7 premiere meet the new boss vale????
fundamentally supernatural is about betraying your family (which includes like two people: your homoerotic love interest and your brother) and maybe the WORLD in order to preserve your family's safety. its a rake that every single member of this show walks into of their own volition like literally all the time. now marc and alex have this in the BAG, and i think vale COULD do cas's season long oh my god im in love with an insect crisis gayboy meltdown before ultimately it culminated in his accepting that yeah. hes would sacrifice everything for marc but also being in huge denial that it is because hes in LOVE with him for like. many more years
so its marc as older 'golden boy' hunter parentified monster killer extraordinaire and alex who maybe has a chance to leave and go to school. and UNLIKE dean's crazy ass, marc is the one who actually has to convince ALEX to go and be a mechanical engineer at school while he continues his extremely lonely career-focused cartwheeling from town to town hunter lifestyle (hes SO alone if i think about him without alex.. wahh) blah blah blah the regular supernatural tragedy spurring life events plot mechanisms occur (parents die? smth) and we fast forward to marc making a deal with a demon to save alex's life and getting sent directly to hell. sorry 2 marc he WOULD do it to save his brother i have NO doubt about that whatsoever. anyways hes in the trauma tunnels. arm-level personality change
and then its like. waking up in his own grave. digging himself out. pulling up the sleeve on his right arm to see a bright red handprint BRANDED on his skin. linking up with alex who is maybe making inadvisable choices in marc's absence (going insane, drinking demon blood and training to kill the demon that killed marc etc). going to a psychic and vale accidently burning out her EYEBALLS. summoning vale to a barn in the middle of nowhere and vale walks in like a spritely little y2k eurotrash ASSHOLE with sideburns and sparks flying and the windows rattle and he looks at marc and tilts his head and smiles.... and marc asks who are you. and vale hits him with the "im the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition" and then marc STABS HIM…
#later season destiel genuinely has a child so im curious as to who im casting as their chosen one baby who saves the universe#callie speaks#asks#motogp#rosquez#vale filling the cas role but having more charisma than an 'unfeeling' divine being knows wtf to DO WITH...season 7 is also SO interesting#and after it all slides wrong and marc thinks hes dead and he comes BACK its like. instant willingness to forgive from marc which is CWAZY#anyways pecco and luca angels. bez and cele humans. jlo demon. dani casey hunter. enea is a werewolf or smth (beast). thank u
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Which cars are most bisexual?
Ever get the chilling feeling that you made a grave mistake long ago and you are about to reap what you sowed?
In short, I hit some of my friends up to ask for help. In random alphabetical order:
@jettacar suggested the fourth gen Nissan Quest:
"It's like, no one really bought these. They aren't particularly common. But also, there's no one type of person that buys a car like this. Rationality would have you believe only families are buying this, because it's a giant minivan - but i can't immediately think of another car with a wider variety of types of people that own them right now (excluding cars that just sell incredibly well)"
Unfortunately, that made the conversation derail into minivan talk.
Up next, @rabidragon suggested the Fiat Multipla, due to its peculiar seating arrangement of two rows of three seats:
"3 seats in the front for you and your man and your woman".
Indeed, the peculiar thing about the Multipla is its row of three full-sized seats in front (many old cars had a front bench with some having three lap belts, but the Three Individual Front Seats club is as exclusive as it is devoid of prestige) and the many peculiarities that it caused, like off-center pretty much everything (mirror included) because the driver is further to the side than usual and where most of the centered things go there's now a passenger who would like to be.
But the even more peculiar thing about the Multipla is how spectacularly ugly it is. It's one of the few cars I've ever actually seen that manages to be full-on ugly not just outside but inside. Click on any list of ugliest cars in the world and if it doesn't contain the Multipla I can promise you that list was created by a machine that has since been physically shot. And if you're thinking "Well, it's not bad enough to warrant that hyperbole" - you are looking at the second generation. This is the pretty one. I put the first one and its interior at the end of the post under a read more because I genuinely did not want to be responsible for you seeing it.
I noted that Honda's FR-V managed the same seating layout with downright smart looks inside and out...
...and unfortunately that made the conversation derail into engine swap regulation loopholes.
Finally, @chevyventure suggested multiple. In (roughly) his words:
First generation Mazda 3 "It's a hatchback, good for many different uses - and Mazda is a little silly, charming and off the beaten path (if you were getting a Japanese hatchback you'd probably get a Toyota or a Honda) with a cute lil' smile like a Miata"
1988 Volvo 240 Wagon "Volvos are frequent hand me downs from family like all the cool childhood trauma the LGBTQs get"
[Editor's Note: bro.]
Renault Clio "It's peak hotness while also being cute in its own way, not necessarily preferring a masculine or feminine audience. I've never seen an ad for a Clio before, but if my assumptions about the car market are correct my guess is the normal one is kinda marketed towards women"
[Editor's note: So, I wanted to check that, so I just looked up "Renault Clio ad". These were the first two ads I found.
youtube
youtube
So yeah. I feel it qualifies.]
Unfortunately, talking about the Clio made the conversation derail into TWR's involvement in- oh wait, you're not gonna know about that Clio variant, are you.
So, many racing series can only be entered with racecars based on some production car - which is great for manufacturers, because they get to advertise their brand and one of their models simultaneously! But since there are rules on how much of the base car can be changed and how much of it must be retained, the stricter they are the more what you want as a base for your racecar is something high performance. So when you want to go racing with a dinky little thing like, say, first car to ever use plastic bumpers and only car to ever be called Renault Le Car in America Renault 5...
...what you are going to want to do is what, among many others, Toyota did with the Yaris GR and Lancia did with the Delta: the homologation special. Basically, you make a special version of the car with the characteristics you'd want in racing, sell enough to clear the rules's bar for "production car" (or at least, convince the officials you've done that), and go racing with that. So Renault did that to the 5 and hit up one Marcello Gandini to redesign it around the changes. You know, Marcello Gandini, guy most famous for designing mid-engined Ferrari-slayers:
Which makes sense, because the Renault 5 Turbo was a mid-engined Ferrari slayer. It was faster than the top-of-the-line Ferrari both in acceleration and in cornering speed. This thing.
(sidenote: The Interior. end of sidenote)
Well, twenty years on, some legend at Renault thought "You know what? We were onto something with that. Let's do that again but HARDER." Presumably, into the headquarters of Tom Walkinshaw Racing, a racing team that developed for Aston Martin, F1 teams, and made Jaguar's Fastest Production Car Ever record holder, and of course a fuckton of the most exciting racecars around, showed up uninvited that Renault madman saying "Y'all wanna work on something REAL prestigious?" before chucking them the keys to a second generation Clio and walking off with a "Don't thank me".
The result was the Clio V6, most notable for HAVING A FUCKING V6 WHERE THE BACKSEATS WERE. This car is genuinely incredible. Like, you see it and you go "Ooh ahh, the Clio V6!" and you look inside to see, you know, the huge V6 compartment thing and you see the interior and you realize this thing cost good sportscar money and when you got in it was a fucking Clio.
Mental stuff- wait shit this post was about bisexual cars wasn't it? How did the conversation derail like this? I swear this never happens. Well, I guess it's time for my pick.
Personally, chatting with Mr. Venture about hatchbacks, I realized that I cannot think of a more "girls car" than a Fiat 500 Cabriolet (which actually is called 500C) and cannot think of a more "boys car" than a Fiat 500 Abarth (which actually is called Abarth 500)...
...so how about the Fiat 500 Cabriolet Abarth?
It actually isn't called that but I think you could piece that together. As though a spoiler on a canvas roof wasn't weird enough, it contains the third brake light, probably making this the only car out there in which it can change position during use. Although I assure you, you're not gonna be thinking about that when driving it. Thing's a RIOT.
But honestly, that wasn't what I started off wanting to answer. So, last but most definitely not least, I candidate my first, gut-reaction answer: the NA Mazda Miata.
See, to me bisexuality (and pansexuality, but awareness of the nuances between them is so low they may as well be picked over flag preference) is someone appreciating all the beauty in the world, seeing no point in gatekeeping themselves out of half of it. And is that not what a spider is about? Is it not about saying "this world we're in is so full of beauty, who would rather blind themselves to half of it?". And look at the damn thing. It's bursting with exactly the kind of joie de vivre one would associate with such sentiment. It oozes enthusiastic curiosity. OwO what's this?: The Car.
Also, just look at this picture.
It can drift. IT CAN WINK. IT CAN WINK MID-DRIFT. I mean, what more than this degree of flirtatious playfulness can you possibly need to be convinced?
Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!
...
...are they gone? I think they're gone.
The Multipla pictures are down here. Go on then if you're gonna, you sick fuck.
If you have dealt with traumatic tumor-related experiences and seeing that dashboard caused you genuine discomfort, well, do not say I didn't warn you.
#lgbt cars#nissan quest#fiat multipla#honda fr-v#mazda 3#volvo 240#renault clio#homologation cars#renault 5 turbo#twr#renault clio V6#fiat 500C#abarth 500C#na mazda miata
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With how much focus she has received since the beginning of the Krakoa era, what are your thoughts on Storm ? And do you agree on the perception that she's becoming something of a Mary Sue?
I’m going to start with a mini-rant about the Mary Sue.
To the extent that there is any validity to the term at all, it is solely and exclusively within the realm of fanfiction. A Mary Sue is an OC (original character) whose supposed annoying omni-competence is really secondary to the main problem with the character, which is that they warp the narrative away from the main characters of the source material - Kirk and Spock or Picard and Data stop doing things that drive the plot, and instead just stand around asking "where's Poochie?"
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Outside of fanfiction and in the realm of the media that gives rise to fanfiction, a prominent character who is incredibly talented and powerful and who makes the plot center around them is called a fucking protagonist - so no, Rey isn’t a Mary Sue, Carol Danvers isn’t a Mary Sue, Katniss Everdeen isn't a Mary Sue - none of them are Mary Sues and anyone who claims otherwise is showing that they have deep-seated Issues with female protagonists in their fiction.
Is Storm a Mary Sue?
Even if we weren't talking about the most prominent black woman character in fiction, I would consider this question pretty damn offensive, both because no one would ever ask this question about a male character and - in a franchise packed to the gills with hyper-powerful women who make the plots revolve around them and who even get the complementary Love Triangle - no one sends me asks about any of those (white) women.
But to answer your question: no, Storm is not a Mary Sue - she's the main character of the X-Men.
See, when Chris Claremont took over X-Men in 1975, he did so with a brand-new cast of characters, the so-called "All-New, All-Different X-Men." In no small part because they were far more diverse and more colorful than the O5 (suburban WASPs one and all), most of these characters would become break-out stars and the core of the X-Men from that day to this.
However, Claremont didn't vibe with all of the All-New X-Men equally: he had Sunfire quit the team (repeatedly), he killed off Thunderbird for shock value (a death that has only been reversed this last year), he would have killed off Wolverine if John Byrne hadn't stopped him (Claremont would later turn around on Logan once he worked out his voice), etc.
But one character that he vibed with right from the beginning was Ororo Monroe. From the very beginning, Claremont's Storm is the most powerful of the All-New X-Men, both in terms of her powers and in terms of her personality, being the only person who can face down Logan. At the same time, she's complicated by her struggles with crippling claustrophobia caused by the Suez Crisis-induced trauma of her childhood.
After a few years, Claremont tired of the African Nature Goddess routine and had Storm experience an almost total transformation that nonetheless was completely grounded in her character. Feeling overly limited by the total emotional control required of her powers, Ororo undergoes a subtextual lesbian awakening in Tokyo's underground punk scene and emerges out the other side a free spirit, leader of the X-Men, and Queen of the Morlocks.
In his most audacious move in LifeDeath I and II, Claremont had Storm lose her powers thanks to Forge's anti-mutant tech - and then defeat Cyclops in a duel for command of the X-Men without her powers - and then regain her powers in an epic cycle that saw the X-Men die and be reborn as outlaw heroes in the Australian Outback.
In sum, Storm was clearly Claremont's favorite character and, as a result had the most interesting character journey over his 16-year run on X-Men.
Storm in Krakoa
And then Storm basically lay fallow for almost thirty years. In no small part due to the pioneering work done by Claremont with this character, later writers were frankly too intimidated to touch the character and so starting in the 90s, Storm was increasingly sidelined in the comics in favor of the characters that were commercially "hot" at the time - Wolverine and Gambit, especially.
In the 2000s, the most significant thing to happen to Storm was her marriage to T'challa. While I think Reggie Hudlin had mostly good intentions with this decision - he wanted to create a black power couple at Marvel and thus put together Marvel's most prominent black man and black woman into a relationship - the result was to make Storm a supporting character in Black Panther comics, rather than a main character in X-Men comics.
I would argue that it is only recently with the advent of Al Ewing as a major writer in the X-office with S.W.O.R.D, X-Men Red, and Storm and the Brotherhood of Mutants that we've gotten a writer who's not afraid to write Storm as she deserves to be written - as the most powerful of the X-Men, the Regent of Arrako and the Voice of Sol, the standard-bearer of Magneto's legacy, and a woman trying to balance the demands of two planets and her own desires.
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#i was actually surprised at how quickly they dropped their weird version of blackhands #like for over a year now they've been writing blackhands as this abusive relationship with ed as an uncontrollably violent toddler #which. you know. incredibly racist on its own #but then they claim they actually got it in canon and it's too much so they drop the brown guy and ship the white guys exclusively? #very very weird
^^its not actually weird at all!! it’s very simple: the brand of blackhands these shippers loved is when they could portray the relationship as constantly imbalanced in izzy’s favor bc ed needed to do so much work to Atone and izzy was a poor helpless victim to ed’s violence. and when i say they wanted that relationship constantly imbalanced i mean CONSTANTLY constantly, like they needed ed groveling they needed izzy being doted on they needed the entire dynamic of their relationship to be centered around how izzy is finally getting the love he “deserves” for putting up with ed and being ed’s victim for so long.
and now they got the first half of the dynamic they wanted which is ed being a domestic abuser and izzy being the target of ed’s abuse (i mean, they didn’t actually get it, but they THINK they did) but they had a part two to the dynamic that they didn’t end up getting which is “ed is permanently put in the doghouse” and to them, ed saying “sorry bout your leg” was not NEARLY enough groveling.
and!! ed even got to be happy in the season despite not fixing his relationship w izzy!! bc these fans only think abt any aspect in the show when they’re thinking abt “how can i make this about izzy” so like to them the most important part of any narrative analysis of ed revolves around his relationship with izzy (this is why ed leaving in 1x07 is abt missing izzy and not abt him being unsure of his relationship w stede, why they’ve written metas abt how the chain and run from me are edizzy songs, why there were headcanons that thankfully got squashed pretty quickly they DID exist for a minute abt how ed grew out his hair bc izzy had long hair when they were younger and ed thought it was cool) and they expected the show to write ed this way, too.
and then the worst part (and also the part i've seen izzy stans analyze the LEAST which is in no way a coincidence) is that in izzy's dying words he admits to Fueling Ed's Darkness for his own personal gain. he apologizes for being cruel to ed. and outside of their buzzword phrases about how this was a portrayal of "an abuse victim apologizing to their abuser" i haven't seen anyone from the izzy stan crowd dig into what it actually MEANS and what kind of harm izzy caused by feeding ed's darkness and pushing ed to be blackbeard, like they're acting as if izzy’s literal actual last words have no narrative significance whatsoever. but you’ll notice there are MANY posts from izzy stans abt how horrific the violence ed did to izzy was and how tragic it all is for poor izzy :(
so yeah. the three-hit combo of 1. not enough focus on ed atoning for harming izzy, 2. ed being allowed happiness despite not having properly atoned for harming izzy, and 3. the finale directly saying “izzy did bad things in this relationship, too” are why they fully fucking hate ed now and have abandoned ship to start writing stizzy now. like, we have a few stede and izzy interactions in s2, but for the most part their relationship is a blank enough slate that they can create a whole fully-fleshed out (and, lbr, probably very generic and overused) fanon dynamic out of scraps. but ed was given too much attention from the story outside of just being a vehicle to project izzy’s desires onto and also the source of izzy’s trauma and they can’t reconcile their version of edizzy with what happens in canon. thinking abt edizzy means thinking abt how canon didn’t punish ed enough and how ed got a happy ending when izzy didn’t, even tho in their minds ed is the reason for the majority of izzy’s misery.
sorry lol “it’s actually very simple” i say before depositing five hefty paragraphs into ur inbox
(this is in reference to my tags on this post)
yeah that is a pretty good summation of everything.
tho thinking about it, i do think there's a secret 4th component as to why they're now dropping ed completely and shipping stizzy, which is how stede became more masc this season. i think the show makes it pretty clear the reason for it is that stede thinks he has to become more masculine and violent to get ed back and keep him, but that doesn't really matter to them. the fact remains that stede is now dressing in muted colors and leather, and pulls out his sword on a dime. so now they're more comfortable enjoying him.
#Our Flag Means Death#Stede Bonnet#The Gentleman Pirate#Edward Teach#Blackbeard#Izzy Hands#fanfiction
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ghosting ↠ txt
now playing ↠ pulling teeth • green day
He left you with letters. Envelopes that took you five years to finally read, acknowledge. They take you back through your past, forcing you to make moves not only for yourself, but for your family, for your children… His children.
part five of six ~ masterlist
word count ↠ 6036 warnings ↠ (same for all parts) 18+. mentions of drugs, alcohol, smoking. swearing. explicit sexual content. these people have kids, there’s family talk, pregnancy talk. absent dad, messy family ties. stepsib shit, stepcest. infidelity. if any of these things bother you, please keep scrolling . if i missed anything PLEASE let me know!! a/n ↠ if you are new to this story, don't start here! please go to the masterlist! major thank you to everyone who's read this story. cannot believe it's almost done... <3 xo posted ↠ 6/17/24 ~ 2:50 pm est.
~ february 2024 ~
Sitting on the plush carpet of your mothers living room, a beautiful bouncing baby boy sat between your outstretched legs. Munching on his fingers with a grin on his face, he watched his big brothers as they spun around to the rock music playing from Taehyun’s brand new record player on the glass table in the center of the room.
Across from you, laying on his stomach on the floor with his chin in his hands was Minho, smiling at his cousins trying to dance to the unsteady beat of Nirvana. The kid was almost a month away from turning ten, and though you just saw him a little over a month ago at Christmas right here in this very house, he had seemed to mature so much. He and his father, who sat beside the coffee table to your left, had both got haircuts, and the color of Taehyun’s was back to normal.
Since Christmas the two of you have been talking more, texting more, letting the kids video call with one another, and things were going really well. The patching up of that relationship, the closure you both gave one another that was ten years overdue was needed, and it had helped immensely. Now you could carry on with a friendship, and be friends, something the two of you struggled with outside of one another.
Amongst the phone calls and messages there was a day spent together without kids, without Soobin, just you and Taehyun. You went for lunch, somewhere quiet in Sicuro knowing damn well you’d be too uncomfortable to go any further or into any other town. Soobin didn’t want you too far either, and you couldn’t blame him. You’d prefer it if he was always within a few miles radius of you anyways.
Over lunch, where the two of you spent hours, you shared conversation like you had over Christmas, dipping into details of life that either of you had shut out, or had been too intoxicated to piece together correctly. Your teenage life was mapped out before you, the two of you with blushing cheeks trying to work out your shared trauma.
The further you delved into the timeline the more you could tell Taehyun was trying his absolute best to stay present. His sober eyes, awake and alert, his chest taking in deep breaths to the slow count of four… Something you knew all too well. With a reassuring nudge of your foot against his underneath the table, he’d smiled, knowing that you were with him, that you were there for him. He wasn’t alone, and you vouched from then on that he never would be.
You’ve healed enough to not hold his past against him, knowing that you yourself were not a perfect person.
He apologized for the summer night at the club years back, appearing teary eyed as he fought the words out of him, every other sentence broken, his eyes finding it near impossible to look into yours. But, he did. He reached for your hand, held it gently, and apologized. And you cried, because he remembered it all. Every detail. Every feeling. He had never told another soul, he had kept it all inside, not even talking about it with the friend you once shared.
The one who turned into the next topic of conversation on hour three of you sitting in the booth in the back of the restaurant.
Things had gone quiet, after the apology was shared and Taehyun had spoken his peace, neither of you knew what to say.
At Christmas, the letters were given to you, by Taehyun himself. Envelopes you didn’t have the guts to open, but your husband did.
You had told Taehyun very little of what you felt, what you experienced. So you laid everything out there, filling in the blanks for him, telling him how it all went down, how it happened, how you wound up with your beautiful boys who were the light of your life, but beginning to worry you with their behavior.
And though tears slipped down your cheek while you spoke of your history with him, with Beomgyu, you knew you were where you were meant to be, and you admitted that to Taehyun, the once questionable fate you had succumbed yourself to, and he too agreed, Soobin was where you were meant to be. Something he’s mentioned to you before.
Pieces of past Christmas were funny, some parts making you question whether or not your certainty was correct. It’d been brought up multiple times, from two different mouths, and then, in the end, the bomb had been dropped.
The twins belonged to Beomgyu, he was their father. In your timeline, in your math, he was their father. You never had to question it, you never had to double check, you were certain. However, those many years ago there had been two of them, both boys, and they overlapped before the nights turned into one. You had no reason to question until Christmas, when your twins seemed to take to Taehyun a lot quicker than you and Soobin had anticipated. Even though the boys looked like you, looked like Beomgyu… Taehyun and Beomgyu both had the eyes, the wide, beautiful, galaxy filled, warm brown eyes. And, so did your twins.
After your mother assumed she knew who really fathered the twins, when up until that day she had seemed to believe you when you told her it was Soobin, you knew you needed a definite answer, one on paper. If not for your own confirmation, but for her. To tell her you didn’t have Taehyun’s children while he was married to another woman with two kids of their own. To not give her the satisfaction of being right, like she always wanted to be.
The kids weren’t his, and though you never spoke to her about it after, the need to prove your mother wrong persisted.
It sucked admitting it to Taehyun. It was entirely humiliating to ask him to do what you needed him to do, but he obliged. Quietly, barely uttering any other sound, he understood, and he assured you that you had no reason to be ashamed. Even he was sure that the boys weren’t his, though his thoughts were somewhat swayed over the holiday weekend because of his step-mother.
That evening after spending an incredulous amount of time out with him, he accompanied you back home where he spent a few more hours with you, Soobin and the kids, Mina sitting on his lap while he filled out some paperwork and swabbed the inside of his cheek. His kids were with Sana, the two still sorting out custody and dealing with judges and court dates.
Within the single evening he spent with your family, Soobin’s opinion of Taehyun had changed entirely, and by the end of it all he even walked him out to his car, leaving him with information and details on how to handle his situation, details you couldn’t even begin to understand. Details you wondered if you’d ever have to deal with…
Sitting here on the floor of the house you grew up in, with your kids giggling up a storm, and a piece of paper folded up in your back pocket, those same thoughts still lived in your mind. Custody, judges, court. A month later and he was still living it. Sana was relentless, she’d never give up.
Especially since over lunch that day Taehyun had told you that she’d found out about you. All of you. The time you shared. All of it, and that she had known for a long time, before divorce was even an option. Aside from the love affair you shared for half of your life, he very blatantly had cheated on her and had been content getting away with it until he grew the balls to file. It went without saying that Sana was pretty content with him getting away with it as well, as long as Taehyun kept bringing home the paychecks.
Now that they were divorced, and she was only getting a still decently sized cut for child support, she had the ability to keep the kids away from him, possibly for a very long time since she knows he’s currently fighting to stay sober. Another reason tacked onto the never ending reasons to despise Sana list.
Leaning backward, toppling onto your thighs, Wonwoo smiled up at you and cooed, his tiny hands reaching upward. Folding in half, covering him completely, you smother his cheeks with kisses and giggle along with him, the sound echoing through the room over the music. One of the twins whipped around, Chan, and dropped to his knees between your legs, one of his joints landing straight on top of your own.
Your gasp of pain, which was really just a reaction to the collision, and the way you gripped your knee over your jeans made Chan freeze for only a moment. Placing a hand over yours he scooted closer to you.
“Sorry, Mama,” he said, studying your expression, searching for the right answer. It was an accident, truly. He knew this, you knew this. Over the last few months however, these accidents have been more frequent. Keeping track of them all, keeping in mind that he was only a five year old boy, the moments of outbursts, tantrums, and accidents like this- happening to more than just you- have been too many to count.
His brown eyes, wide, waiting for you to say something, they made you gulp. Pulling Wonwoo into your arms, situating him over your left side, you nodded at your son and took his hand into your own. “It’s okay, it was an accident, right?”
“Right,” Chan said, his gaze traveling to his brother on your hip chewing on his fingers. “Can Wonwoo play?” He bounced on his knees, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was too long, he needed it cut, both twins did. The usually straight, thick dark locks were nearing their shoulders, edging the base of their neck. The longer their hair got, and the older they grew, the more it seemed to wave at the ends. Covering their ears, bangs teasing their lashes… You didn’t have the heart to cut it off.
You hadn’t seen him in years, and yet here he was, sitting in front of you.
“Wonwoo can’t play right now,” you said, tucking some of Chan's hair behind his ear, smiling as he shied under your touch.
Scooching closer to you he sat on your other thigh, cradling his chin in his hands as he watched his little brother. “Why?”
“Because he’s getting sleepy, it’s almost time for him to go to bed.” From your left you could feel Taehyun’s eyes on you.
Chan stared at the baby. His gaze unresponsive for all of two seconds. “But he can play at home?”
You gave him a smile, placing a hand gently on his back. “He can play at home, you do big kid things here, he isn’t a big kid yet. At home Daddy and Mama can watch you with him, but there’s so much going on here.” Your five year old thought to himself, still eyeing Wonwoo content on your side, not an ounce of eye contact made before he spoke again.
“But, why?”
“Hey, Chan,” Taehyun’s clear, deep voice called over to your son, his little head lifting to look over at his uncle sitting criss-cross on the carpet. “C’mere.” He waved a hand toward himself, Chan leaping off of your leg with a shout, running toward him.
Groaning, you started, “Tae, hold out your-”
But, your warning was cut short with another shout, a high pitched shriek startling Wonwoo. Chan jumped onto Taehyun, and, maybe it was dad reflexes, but he caught him. Pulling him into his chest, holding him tight, rocking him back and forth as they laughed, your step-brother shot you a look over the little one's shoulder.
“Hey, I want to play!” With folded arms Sunoo watched his brother and uncle. The smallest pout was forming on his lips. Taehyun smiled at him and waved another hand, shifting Chan over to one side, catching Sunoo with his other side as the child launched himself at him. Between laughing fits, you caught Taehyun’s eye once more, the two of you sharing a smile.
“Minnie?” Taehyun questioned, glancing at his son who watched him as well, entertained by the children attempting to tackle his father to the ground. “Wanna take your cousins upstairs?”
Minho leapt to his feet and sighed, but not with discontent, with preparation for what he was signing himself up for. Taehyun nodded toward him, then with both hands grabbed the collars of the twins' shirts and peeled them off of him. The boys, finding it funnier than anything else in the world, tossed out their little hands trying to either hit Taehyun or grab onto him.
“Minho wants to show you guys something,” he said, dodging flying hands.
“Boys, we don’t hit,” you spoke up, moving onto your knees, keeping Wonwoo on your hip. Neither twin spared you a moment. “Boys!”
“Go upstairs with him, he has something fun-”
Chan made contact with Taehyun's cheek, his palm no bigger than half the surface he’d hit. It wasn’t hard, he didn’t hurt him, but he still hit him. Sunoo was the only one to react to the sound, until their father set foot in the room, their little sister propped on his hip.
“Choi Chan!” The sound of Soobin’s raised voice spun them both right around. Taehyun dropped his hands and pulled them into his lap, sending a look your way. Your eyes apologized to him, for the smack and for what was about to happen. These moments of parenting, of reprimanding, of learning, they were becoming a wildcard, so much so that even Soobin was having a hard time figuring out how to deal with them.
A shit eating grin lived on Chan’s face as he gazed up at his father, one incredibly jarring the first time it made an appearance. Gripping the denim of his jeans, Chan bounced his knees and let out the quietest laugh. Sunoo beside him, the complete opposite.
It would be one thing if both twins were the same, if they both acted the same, and though sometimes they do, in moments like these their ways were completely different, making the parenting, the learning, so much harder.
“I don’t think anyone here found that funny,” Soobin said, his voice returning to a normal volume. Taehyun reached over to the record player, turning the volume down. The movement caught Chan’s attention. “Look at me, please.”
Sunoo was a rock, his brown eyes glued to his father. Chan however, watched Taehyun sit back in his place, and then he bounced on his toes and tried to walk back over to him. Reaching in front of you, you were able to grab onto his wrist and maneuver him back, keeping him where he needed to be. The five year old looked at you, whined, then turned back to Soobin. On his hip in a fuzzy blue footed onesie, Mina pointed at Taehyun and smiled, flashing her gappy little teeth. Her uncle pointed back to her and grinned, subsequently making Chan try to turn again.
“Chan, we don’t hit.” Soobin hadn’t moved an inch.
Your son wriggled his wrist out of your hold. “It was a accident,” he said, looking at you, then Soobin. “A accident.”
“I know you were playing,” Soobin said. “But, I saw you trying to hit Uncle Tae, and then you did.”
Chan clenched his hands into fists and stomped a foot on the ground. Covering one of Wonwoo’s ears you pressed his other against your chest, holding his head there. Even Sunoo knew what was coming after the stamp, he covered his own ears.
“ACCIDENT!” Chan screamed, covering his eyes with his hands, the tears following soon after.
Trying to take one of his hands again, he swatted you away and fell onto his knees. Sighing, Soobin put Mina on her feet and she toddled over to Taehyun, falling into his lap. Your girl wrapped both hands around one of his fingers.
“Soobin, he’s very tired,” you said to your husband quietly as he approached the fallen twin, brushing a hand gently over the hair of Sunoo still standing, hands clamped to his ears. “We’ve been here all day, no nap. That makes it worse.”
Looking at you he crouched down, laying a hand over Chan’s back. He knew what little sleep did to the boys, how it affected their behavior, they were kids. When kids were tired, exhausted even, they tended to misbehave, or throw tantrums such as this one. Chan was different. This type of tantrum happened no matter how tired he was.
Making choices as a parent was possibly the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in life thus far. Each decision impacted your kids and had an effect on their future and the people they’d grow up to be. With Chan folded over on the floor sobbing into his hands, you weren’t sure whether to let him cry or try to get him to stand back up. Half of you wanted to pick him up and tell him it was okay, just to keep him from feeling upset, but then the other was telling you that there were consequences to his actions and he needed to learn from them.
You know, so he didn’t grow up to be someone who punched holes into walls.
Even then, with how differently his brain worked from other children, how exactly were you supposed to do that?
“Chan, when you’re ready to talk to us we’re right here.” Soobin leveled his eyes on his son, tracing a reassuring circle over his back. At a loss, feeling your own tears seconds away from spilling, you trained your gaze on your husband and took a deep breath.
His calm, gentle giant-ness was how. He was how you’d make it through, he was how you’ve made it through the last six years. He’d be able to get you through many more.
Behind the twins Minho had snuck over to Taehyun, sitting beside his father and Mina, keeping the two year old occupied. Taehyun bounced her on his knee as she traced Minho’s features with a single finger, her cousin leaning into her with pouted lips. The little girl had such an attention to details even at her small age. You were certain she’d grow up to be as smart as her father.
“Everything okay in here? Where’d my granddaughter go?” Your mothers voice was heard before she was spotted. Soobin, closing his eyes, took a short breath, and you and Taehyun seemed to do the same. Your step-brother held in his laugh, catching a glimpse of Soobin’s dismay.
Turning into the living room with her husband close behind, Joy, dressed in a strapless black jumpsuit that bunched at her ankles, leaving room for her strappy black heels to be tied there, looked over the scene on her floor, then tossed her hands out at her side.
“We’re good, Mom,” you said, grilling her from where you sat. Her tendency to get involved with parenting your children happened more often than the tantrums from the boys. She never had the chance to do it with Taehyun’s kids, so you took the brunt of it all. Another reason to be jealous of Sana.
Jin placed a hand to Joys shoulder and smiled at you, the man knowing how his wife would act. “Let them do their thing.” Joy gasped and whipped around to tap him on the chest of his blue polo.
“Mom,” you sighed, finding that Sunoo was watching them, seeing his grandmother hit his grandfather right after the start of a no-hitting lecture. Joy whirled back around with wide eyes.
“What!” Her laugh made both Taehyun and Minho cringe.
“Just… please, don’t,” you said. Seeming to catch on after scanning the room, Joy pressed her glossy lips together and cocked her chin back. Her eyes landed on the twins, scoped over Soobin’s back, took Taehyun in for a few seconds before she glared at you. For a second her lips parted and your heart sunk through the million dollar floor. “Don’t,” you spat, quickly.
“I’m bringing out the cake,” she muttered, then spun on her toes and led Jin into the kitchen.
At the mention of dessert, Chan poked his head up, his crying having ceased a few moments ago. Sunoo removed his hands from his ears and tilted his head to check on his brother, crouching down like Soobin was. The boy would always try to mirror him.
Subsequently, they both spoke to Chan at once, saying, “Feel better?”
Soobin withheld a smile, but glanced at you before taking his hands around the boy's torso, tugging him onto his lap. Chan curled up, slinging an arm around Soobin’s waist.
“Are you ready to talk?” Soobin asked. Hesitating, it took Chan a few seconds to answer with a head nod. “Can you say the word, please?”
Chan took a breath. “Yes,” he said, voice wobbly.
“It’s okay to be upset,” Soobin kept his focus down, his full attention on his son, no matter how many other people sat in this room. “You’re feeling some really big emotions and I know they’re hard for you to understand right now. Is that right?”
“Yes,” Chan whispered. His eyes found his twin.
“Are you able to tell me what you’re feeling? Can you name your feeling?”
Sunoo said, “Sadness.”
“Sunoo, let Chan answer, okay?” You popped in momentarily, giving the boy a small smile. “That was a really good answer, but let’s hear what your brother wants to name it.”
Soobin didn’t look away from the boy in his arms, not until Chan mumbled, “Anger.”
“Thank you,” Soobin said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You’re feeling red, and like you want to yell?” Chan answered with a nod that Soobin allowed. “What happened to make you feel that way?”
Your son hesitated again, this time shrugging his shoulders, mumbling, “I dunno.” Waiting for anything else to come out, Soobin shut his eyes after Chan said, “Because of Daddy.”
“Because I told you not to hit?”
Another nod.
Soobin took a deep breath. “What do you think Daddy felt when he saw you hit Uncle Taehyun? When you know you aren’t supposed to be doing that?” Chan hid his face, muttering something only for Soobin to hear. “Sadness and Anger? Blue and red? How come?” Inaudible mumbles came from your boy. “Right, it’s not okay to hit somebody, and it makes Mama and Daddy upset when you do.” Unburying his face, Chan sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Sunoo put a hand on one of his brother's knees. “I felt Sadness.”
“When I hit?” Chan asked him, and Sunoo bobbed his head. “I am sorry.”
Soobin nudged the boys back. “Go tell who you need to tell.”
Rising to his feet, sniffly as ever, Chan took his time approaching Taehyun’s side, putting a hand gently to his shoulder. Eyes darting around like mad, your son pushed out a quick, “I am sorry I hit you,” and then took two steps backward.
Taehyun, new to the whole idea of how you parent your children, gave Chan a small smile and bowed his head. Chan put his hands over his chest and tilted his head.
“Uncle Taehyun, you say that it’s okay,” Sunoo said, standing to his feet.
Soobin took Sunoo by the hand and shook his head. “Sometimes it doesn’t work that way,” he started, and both twins eyed him curiously, this being the first they’ve heard of the concept. “Sometimes… When we hurt people it affects them, and even though sometimes we say sorry, it doesn’t take away from the fact that we’ve hurt them. Some people will accept your apology, and some people won’t.”
“What if somebody hurts you and they don’t say sorry?” Sunoo asked.
Taehyun met your glance, the power within it blazing hot.
Soobin thought to himself, carefully reading the room, analyzing every energy, old and new. “Then, you have to learn to forgive them yourself, and move on, to heal. Otherwise, you’re stuck with a wound,” he scrunched his nose, “an ouchie, that can hold you back from great things.”
Chan faced Taehyun, his uncle ripping his eyes away from you to look up at him. “Do you accept my… Apology?” The five year old sounded out the word, bobbing his head as he did.
Taehyun seemed to study him, your boy with fluffy hair and sappy eyes. He was about to smile, you could see it ghosting his lips, but he waited, his mouth slightly pulling downward as your boy waited with a patience unknown to his begetter.
He could see him.
“I… I do.” Taehyun’s voice was so low it was almost a whisper. “I accept your apology.” He finally smiled, shifting his eyes to you before looking down at Mina gazing up at him.
“She thinks you are pretty,” Sunoo said, getting a laugh out of you, your step-brother and his son. Mina had a habit of staring at things, whether they be right in front of her, on a screen, if she found them enticing.
Soobin let out a harsh, breathy laugh, then stood up with, “No thank you, Sunoo.”
Darting his eyes to Soobin, Taehyun wore a cautious smile, one that grew into fruition, spreading across his cheeks as your husband smiled back, in understanding, a sight you’d never thought you’d live to see.
“Come on,” Soobin held his arms open for Mina who wobbled to her feet and rushed into his fathers hold. The twins stood on alert, eyes full of respect for their father. Once Mina was situated on a hip, her hands grabbing onto Soobin’s t-shirt, he bounced her once and said, “Let’s go sing Happy Birthday to Uncle Tae.”
About an hour after the kids climbed onto Taehyun somehow, scream-sang their birthday song to him, blew out his birthday candles, you found yourself standing around the kitchen island with Soobin and Taehyun. Wonwoo sat on the edge of the counter in front of Soobin, your husband's hands holding his waist while the little one kicked his legs and learned to hold his balance on his own. The other four took off to the second floor, most likely messing with whatever they could find in yours and Taehyun’s old bedrooms.
Jin and Joy were up there with them now, your mother with Mina attached to her hip thankfully, you and Soobin both knowing your two year old would not be left unsupervised with any of the boys. As much as they were airheaded parents, they sure were wonderful grandparents, ever since Rose was born. Even before she was born. Even now that she’s missing her own fathers birthday celebration with his side of the family, cooped up with Sana somewhere down in Avida. They loved her. They loved them all.
Squishing leftover icing on a small ceramic plate on the counter you all stood around, you eyed Taehyun and his full-of-life grin while he spoke with Soobin about Minho and the stuff he’s currently dealing with in school, how fourth grade seemed to be much harder now than it was when the three of you were in elementary school. His eyes sparkled, his eyebrows moved with a calculated ferocity. He was present. He was here, in the room with you, fully.
“Can’t believe you’re thirty-three,” you said once their conversation died down. Taehyun blew a raspberry on his lips and Wonwoo’s head whipped toward him.
“You’re not far behind.” Raising a brow he shot you a look before poking your son's cheek, getting a smile from the little one.
Smiling at him, you said, “No, I’m not, but at least I’m the last one to get there.” Soobin huffed a laugh, shaking his head. He hit thirty-three first, back in December.
Taehyun gripped the edge of the counter with two hands and cocked his chin backward, in thought, like he was struck with the same realization you were. By the first of April you’d be thirty-three, a while away from the beginning of February, Taehyun’s actual birthday happening last weekend. There was someone meant to fall between you two. The thirteenth of March, the date he’d reach thirty-three, joining Taehyun, leaving you behind.
Soobin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence. “Taehyun, when was the last time you spoke to him?” It was gentle, the question asked in the softest way possible, Soobin’s volume staying within the three feet of space you shared.
Air was knocked from your lungs at the sudden inquiry, not that Soobin never spoke of it before. The two of you planned to ask him, but you weren’t prepared for it to come from your husband's mouth. With one of Wonwoo’s hands wrapped around his finger, Soobin looked at Taehyun with a confidence, one that he’s worn in his eyes since the day he asked you to marry him. One you used to wonder if it was fueled by anything other than pure love.
Taehyun took a long, deep breath, his eyes dancing all over the kitchen. They landed on you for only a second, your own begging him to tell you, to speak to you, to speak to Soobin. It was common for him to shove everything into a box at this point, swallow the pain away, act as if it didn’t have any effect over him.
But, that was the old Taehyun.
He gulped, sinking into himself for a moment, somehow talking himself out of the hole he was ready to burrow under.
“On my birthday.”
You didn’t mean for your sigh to be as heavy as it was, but it made him close his eyes. “That’s last week.”
He nodded, opening his eyes a bit to stare at the marble under his fingers. “Yeah, he… He called me. But, before then I hadn’t really spoken to him since before Christmas.” He hesitated before adding, “Was nice to hear his voice.”
Clenching your fingers into fists, you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard. Across the counter from you Soobin gave you a look so intense it had the power to calm you down without saying a word. With a tiny nod toward your step-brother, Soobin encouraged you to ask him what you needed to ask, tell him what you needed to know.
“Tae,” you started, voice the smallest it’s ever been. He couldn’t look at you, but he tried. “We… we tried calling him. After you came over that night. Well, it took two days for me to grow the balls to do it.” Soobin nodded along as you spoke, eyebrows pulled to the center of his forehead, feeling everything you were feeling. “We don’t know if he has a new number, or if he was just… busy, because…”
Soobin tilted his head, stretching his free hand across the marble, barely reaching you. Intaking a shaky breath, finding Taehyun's full attention over you, you whispered, “Because I haven’t spoken to him in five years.”
“I know,” Taehyun’s voice was as loud as yours, a whisper, a secret to keep.
“We had a night, after processing a lot,” you nodded with Soobin, the two of you remembering the two days after your outing with your step-brother and how hard it was reliving everything. “And, we decided-”
“You decided,” Soobin cut in for only a moment, always telling you that it would be your choice whether or not to move forward with anything. He’d never let you forget that.
“I decided,” you looked back at Taehyun, “That I… Maybe felt ready to just… contact him and see what happened. Catch up for a second. Check in.”
Whatever emotion struck him across the face was unreadable. “He’s not… No, he can’t. You can’t.” Silence fell. Nobody moved, not even Wonwoo.
Years ago you’d have shouted at him to tell you more, to keep going, to not bottle everything up and keep it to himself. It was the most exhausting way to live, to have nothing but half assed explanations and lazy reasons as to why things were the way that they were. It was his coping mechanism, you’ve learned. He despised confrontation, he’d do anything to avoid being completely honest, because everything hurt him as much as it hurt you.
Now, two grown adults who were no longer sloppy children, you didn’t want to shout. You didn’t want to fight. You also didn’t want to push him away, knowing that if you ever did you’d be putting him back in that horrible place he fought so hard to get out of. So, you waited, for as long as he needed.
And, after a few minutes, Taehyun said, “He doesn’t use his phone, but he has the same number. It’s with Jungkook, all of his stuff is. Up in Soro, he still lives there with Chaeyoung and Tzuyu.”
“Jungkook does,” you clarified, and he nodded.
“You don’t know anything that’s happened, do you?” His question struck your heart. A sharp, twisting pain you haven’t felt since your twins were born.
Reaching a hand into your back pocket you slid the piece of paper out and unfolded it with shaking hands. Laying it flat on the marble you pointed to a 0% beside the words probable paternity. Taehyun swallowed hard, touching the edge of the paper, sliding it closer to him.
“I know one thing that’s happened,” you said. “And so do you.” He gave you a look, your stomach twisting in knots at the teal-green emotion within his eyes your kids would be able to name. “Thought this would be a nice birthday present.” He attempted to wipe the look off his face, but he was unsuccessful. “Now we know for sure, and if Joy has some shit to say we have proof.”
Soobin didn’t bother to clock your bad word. Not right now.
“Taehyun,” you whispered, eyes darting back and forth between his beautiful brown gaze. “Where is he?”
10/7/2023
…I don’t know why it’s so scary when the scariest part of my life so far has been becoming your dad. Knowing that I was struggling, knowing that I was so unhappy, it was what I had to do. She needed to go back, I know that. There wasn’t anything left for her here, nothing I could give her so she could live her best life. That’s why I admire him so much. Soobin. That’s a good man. That’s the man you need to grow up to be. To step up when a loser rolls over and runs away. To love someone unconditionally. To protect the person you love. It’s something I could never do, I just brought harm. I brought pain, and even when I had the chance to do something about it… I ran away. I don’t want to blame my brain for it, I really don’t, always hated doing that ‘cause it’s not an excuse, but… It’s my life. I know what I’m like, even though I'm not always there. My brother always told me I was really good at being self-aware and suffering because of it. So here I am. Suffering because of it. I’m not saying any of this for pity, because trust me it feels wrong to be writing any of this down. Self-aware. I’m saying this so you know the truth. So you know who I am, who your dad was. In case anything happens, in case I don’t ever get to meet you. I love you both, and I love your mom. I love her so much. Listen to her, listen to Soobin. Take after him, take after the good men in your life. Grow up strong, and smart, and kind hearted. Love your friends, love your family, love yourselves. Do good things, be good. I want nothing more than for you to have the most wonderful life…
☼ AO3 | wattpad | support | share with me ☼
thank you so much for reading. <3
#txt fanfic#tomorrow x together smut#tomorrow x together angst#txt angst#txt smut#txt x reader#txt x you#txt x y/n#soobin x you#soobin x reader#soobin x y/n#soobin fic#soobin angst#soobin fluff#nmwid#cruel summer#taehyun angst#taehyun x you#taehyun x reader
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In regards to these Ko-fi uploads…I need to be real for a moment. I don’t have a therapist right now so I’m venting it here so I can just get it out.
…*sighs* I’m not exactly good at moving. I hate change to the point where it worsens my fatigue into immobility or extremely limited mobility. Even if said change is good for me. I don’t exactly have a space where I can just hide and nest for awhile.
I’ve been suggested to go to a crisis center in case things worsen. It’s free walk in but-
It’s…not the cost. I’m moving on the 15th. A lot of my trauma stems from psych wards, hospitals, and crisis centers. I’m…not exactly the most willing because of that. But I appreciate the sentiment this person was looking out for my sake.
My housemate (who owns the place I’m currently residing) didn’t see me here in June. Which meant I needed to find a place to go. It’s fine. I knew this wasn’t home. But I was subconsciously hoping it would be one day. Despite my housemate making it clear a couple times that he didn’t see me here in June. When he said that, I realized this wasn’t home. I feel so displaced that…anywhere I go, I have that hope. So it hurts to be disappointed in that hope.
However, I did. But…it meant leaving where I am and back to the county where my abuser and ex-friend who SA’d me is. Not the same city. But still, my partner is in the vicinity I’m moving to. I trust them, and I know that if I’m not staying indefinitely at the place I’m couch surfing to, I’m not getting kicked to the curb.
She said she’ll ensure I have another location to stay safely that I won’t be on the streets again. Which I am grateful for.
I’m exhausted, I haven’t packed much but-…I might start tossing shit in the garbage at this point. …. There’s a lot of things I’d rather give away to better homes but I’m not certain anyone’s going to take them despite my situation. Plus these are things from people that no longer…are in my life. For various reasons.
I’d love to give them new homes…a lot of em are useful and cute mini plushies…because I don’t got a lot of space.
All this to say…if none of these get taken.. then they’ll be tossed. I hate to do that, but it is what it is.
#informational#PSA#small vent#moving#disability struggles#mental health#neurodivergent#houseless#couch surfing#fyi#ko fi support#kofi shop#abuse mention#sa mention#survivor
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Are you gonna finish your pornstar!mikeschmidt x Reader because I want reader to cuss him out and just shout how they feel 😔😔
(Totallly ok if ur not gonna finish it though it was so good anyways >_<)
yes!!! i've actually been on here today writing more [: we're halfway there officially and at 5806 words lmao. sorry to be taking soooooo long on this part, but here's a little [unedited] something to tide you over [hopefully!]:
a peek into safety net, part five
"fair point, i suppose. still, it wouldn't hurt to have a conversation, no matter how difficult. from what you've told me, mike seems to have a good head on his shoulders. he sounds generous, caring, gentle and though nowhere near perfect, of course, you've painted a picture to me that he's tried hard to cultivate a safe space for you. it's a safety net, your own personal nirvana."
dr. kelley's imagery has you transported; you find yourself in the sky, its deep, intentional brushstrokes of pink and orange surrounding you in an endless landscape. a bungee net stretches with moderate tension in four directions, leaving you in the slouchy center. a cool breeze crosses your face as you search around for mike, yelling his name into what seemed to you like a void.
"I understand that your trauma and experiences makes it a bit harder to acclimate and feel entitled to that kind of treatment. that is fair and fine, but what's not is refusing to communicate that to mike. you can talk to me about it all day, rack up on your invoice by all means, but it does nothing if you don't put in the work."
"but I did put in the work! from my anniversary to now!"
"how many days is that?"
"...five," dr. kelley sighs, fatigued by your green nature. she rarely took in clients your age, half her own and like toddlers exploring a brand new world, but something about your fervor had spoken to her. she saw that you weren't one to back down, and after a few sessions, she knew she'd been right.
yet, she was wise enough to know that stubbornness was both a blessing and a curse, and here in this moment, it was the curse that saw you from seeing the truth. "we've talked about self sabotage before. when you first told me of your relationship with mike, how it made you feel, i pointed it out instantly. if you're telling me that you've overcome every feeling you've told me about in five days, i might as well give you my credentials cause you're a better therapist than me, apparently."
very excited to write this last half [: it's very immersive so I can't wait [: see you all soon!
ALSO HAPPY FUCKING PRIDE! I LOVE YOU ALL, YOU’RE SO VALID AND LOVED AND WORTHY! QUEER FOLK 🔛🔝
#fnaf#fnaf fic#mike schmidt#fnaf movie#mike schmidt x reader#faire answers asks#faire is writing stuff#faire's (pornstar) mike schmidt <3#faire talks safety net
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Masterpost
<<Please read before requesting>>
I accept requests for drabbles, snippets, prompt lists, asks regarding my series, pretty much anything—given that the topic of the request is within my comfort zone
Art sideblog: @charcoalsketches
Spam sideblog: @coal-commits-arson
(I will try to keep this updated to current)
Writing Challenges
The Merry Whump of May 2022
Summer of Whump 2022
Whumptober 2022
Whumpuary 2023
The Merry Whump of May 2023
Two Weeks of Whump 2023
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Prompts
Plushie Whump // Defiant Lab Whump // Desert Whump // Mute Whumpers~Caretakers // Shivering // Doctor Whumpers // Comfort Plushies // Healing Powers // Betrayed by Team // Humane Whumpers // Bath Time With Trauma // Short Betrayal Thing // Mean Caretaker // Lab Rat Whumpee = Lonely // Some Dialogue // Whumpers Who Get Carried Away // Rating Whump Locations // Experiment Prompt List // How Whumpee Meets Caretaker Prompt List // Mock Executions // Captured Prince Prompt List // Teammate Caretaker x Leader Whumpee // Belts as Restraints // Recovery Center List // Doghouse // Feral Whumpee Recovery // Torture Idea // Both Caretaker and Whumpee are Captives // Ribbons (Short Snippet) // Safety in Restraints // Two Beds // Caretaker is New Master // Brutal Whump Idea // Bleeding Ungrateful // Old Wounds // Tally // Injured Back // Tied to a Table // Driver // Redeemed Villain Captured With Team // Gentle Pet Whump // Ear Pains // Hero Being Manipulated Snippet // Signs of Whump // Morgue Prompt // Cold in Captivity // Sharp Teeth Supernatural Whumpee // Broken Whumpees and Regret // Possessive Whumpers // Tucked in // Auction Prep // Emergency Contact // Marbles // Familiar Whumpee and Whumper // Sunburn +Whipping // Overworked // Branded Handprints //
Other Prompts
1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // 16 // 17 // 18 // 19 // 20 // 21 // 22 // 23 // 24 // 25 // 26 // 27 //
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Drabble Masterpost
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Series
The Prince of a Bloodstained Game (completed)
My first ever series, made a while ago. Royal Whumper Leonidas, spy Whumpee who was sent to kill him Harlow. My advice, just don't. Don't go there. I haven't looked back. Who knows what horrors await in my old writing
A Drop Of Honey
Probably my most consistent series tbh, ongoing for months. I only work on it when requested. Bitch Whumpee called Bee, no other characters are worthy of names. We've got Friend and Whumper, that's it
Red Stained Riches
(Whumptober 2022) Kaden shouldn't have gone to the party. Rich creepy whumper named Mathias. Ongoing.
Surveillence
Whumpuary 2022. Ignore how the first 12 parts are nameless, I’m slowly going back to fix it. Noah is a spy, and hell is he in over his head
Landline
Coriander took a turn a bit too fast during a storm, and they ended up on the wrong person’s doorstep.
To the Victor the Spoils
A choose-your-own-adventure, interactive whump series
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My Old Writing Masterlist
In my most professional opinion, just stay away.
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#this took way too long#whump#whumpblr#whump community#whump writing#its me coal#coal’s masterlist#whump prompt#whump prompts#writing prompt#writing prompts#masterlist#whump masterlist#whump masterpost#whumpee#whumper#whump stuff#whump series#whump blog#whump ideas
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Whumpy Book List #3
Hello! As requested, here is another book list. Some of these books will contain a list of whump tropes and others will not. I did not take notes while reading, and I don't remember the exact tropes. There is at least a little bit of whump in each book.
Happy reading!
List below the cut
The Last Sun (The Tarot Sequence #1) by K.D. Edwards
Summary: Rune Saint John, last child of the fallen Sun Court, is hired to search for Lady Judgment's missing son, Addam, on New Atlantis, the island city where the Atlanteans moved after ordinary humans destroyed their original home. With his companion and bodyguard, Brand, he questions Addam's relatives and business contacts through the highest ranks of the nobles of New Atlantis. But as they investigate, they uncover more than a missing man: a legendary creature connected to the secret of the massacre of Rune's Court. In looking for Addam, can Rune find the truth behind his family's death and the torments of his past?
Genre: Fantasy, urban fantasy, magic, MM romance, Mystery, adult
Whump tropes: Past trauma
Liar City by Allie Therin
Summary: A murder has Seattle on edge, and it falls to a pacifist empath—and a notorious empath hunter—to find the killer before it's too late It’s the middle of the night when part-time police consultant and full-time empath Reece gets an anonymous call warning him that his detective sister needs his help. At an out-of-the-way Seattle marina, he discovers that three people have been butchered—including the author of the country’s strictest anti-empathy bill, which is just days from being passed into law. Soon, Reece’s caller a shadowy government agent known as The Dead Man, who is rumored to deal exclusively in cases involving empathy. He immediately takes over the investigation, locking out both local PD and the FBI, but, strangely, keeps Reece by his side. As the two track an ever-growing trail of violence and destruction across Seattle, Reece must navigate a scared and angry city, an irritating attraction to his mysterious agent companion, and a rising fear that perhaps empaths like him aren’t all flight and no fight after all…
Genre: Fantasy, mystery, paranormal, MM romance, urban fantasy
Magic in Manhattan Series (Spellbound, Starcrossed, and Wonderstruck) by Allie Therin
Summary: To save Manhattan, they’ll have to save each other first… New York, 1925 Arthur Kenzie’s life’s work is protecting the world from the supernatural relics that could destroy it. When an amulet with the power to control the tides is shipped to New York, he must intercept it before it can be used to devastating effects. This time, in order to succeed, he needs a powerful psychometric…and the only one available has sworn off his abilities altogether. Rory Brodigan’s gift comes with great risk. To protect himself, he’s become a recluse, redirecting his magic to find counterfeit antiques. But with the city’s fate hanging in the balance, he can’t force himself to say no. Being with Arthur is dangerous, but Rory’s ever-growing attraction to him begins to make him brave. And as Arthur coaxes him out of seclusion, a magical and emotional bond begins to form. One that proves impossible to break—even when Arthur sacrifices himself to keep Rory safe and Rory must risk everything to save him.
Genre: Fantasy, historical fiction, MM romance, paranormal, magic, urban fantasy
Spell Bound by F. T. Lukens
Summary: Edison Rooker isn’t sure what to expect when he enters the office of Antonia Hex, the powerful sorceress who runs a call center for magical emergencies. He doesn’t have much experience with hexes or curses. Heck, he doesn’t even have magic. But he does have a plan—to regain the access to the magical world he lost when his grandmother passed. Antonia is…intimidating, but she gives him a job and a new name—Rook—both of which he’s happy to accept. Now all Rook has to do is keep his Spell Binder, an illegal magical detection device, hidden from the Magical Consortium. And contend with Sun, the grumpy and annoyingly cute apprentice to Antonia’s rival colleague, Fable. But dealing with competition isn’t so bad; as Sun seems to pop up more and more, and Rook minds less and less. But when the Consortium gets wind of Rook’s Spell Binder, they come for Antonia. All alone, Rook runs to the only other magical person he knows: Sun. Except Fable has also been attacked, and now Rook and Sun have no choice but to work together to get their mentors back…or face losing their magic forever.
Genre: Fantasy, young adult, MM romance, urban fantasy, magic
A Market of Dreams and Destiny by Trip Galey
Summary: Below Covent Garden lies the Untermarkt, where anything and everything has a price: a lover’s first blush, a month of honesty, a wisp of fortune. As a child, Deri was sold to one of the Market’s most powerful merchants. Now, after years of watchful servitude, Deri finally spots a chance to buy not only his freedom but also his place amongst the Market’s elite when he stumbles into the path of a runaway princess desperate to sell her royal destiny. But news of the missing princess and her wayward destiny spreads. Royal enforcers and Master Merchants alike are after it. Outmanoeuvring them all would all be hard enough had Deri not just also met the love of his life, a young man called Owain, whose employers are using the Market for their own nefarious schemes. Deri soon finds that the price of selling the royal destiny, making a name for himself, and saving the man he loves is dear. The cost of it all might just change the destiny of London forever.
Genre: Fantasy, MM romance, historical fiction, urban fantasy
Saint of Steel Series by T. Kingfisher
Summary: Stephen's god died on the longest day of the year… Three years later, Stephen is a broken paladin, living only for the chance to be useful before he dies. But all that changes when he encounters a fugitive named Grace in an alley and witnesses an assassination attempt gone wrong. Now the pair must navigate a web of treachery, beset on all sides by spies and poisoners, while a cryptic killer stalks one step behind…
Genre: Fantasy, mystery, romance
Silver Under Nightfall and Court of Wanderers by Rin Chupeco
Summary: Remy Pendergast is many things: the only son of the Duke of Valenbonne (though his father might wish otherwise), an elite bounty hunter of rogue vampires, and an outcast among his fellow Reapers. His mother was the subject of gossip even before she eloped with a vampire, giving rise to the rumors that Remy is half-vampire himself. Though the kingdom of Aluria barely tolerates him, Remy’s father has been shaping him into a weapon to fight for the kingdom at any cost. When a terrifying new breed of vampire is sighted outside of the city, Remy prepares to investigate alone. But then he encounters the shockingly warmhearted vampire heiress Xiaodan Song and her infuriatingly arrogant fiancé, vampire lord Zidan Malekh, who may hold the key to defeating the creatures—though he knows associating with them won’t do his reputation any favors. When he’s offered a spot alongside them to find the truth about the mutating virus Rot that’s plaguing the kingdom, Remy faces a choice. It’s one he’s certain he’ll regret. But as the three face dangerous hardships during their journey, Remy develops fond and complicated feelings for the couple. He begins to question what he holds true about vampires, as well as the story behind his own family legacy. As the Rot continues to spread across the kingdom, Remy must decide where his loyalties lie: with his father and the kingdom he’s been trained all his life to defend or the vampires who might just be the death of him.
Genre: Fantasy, vampires, LGBTQIA+, gothic
The Druid Stone by Heidi Belleau
Summary: Sean never asked to be an O'Hara, and he didn't ask to be cursed by one either. After inheriting a hexed druid stone from his great-grandfather, Sean starts reliving another man's torture and death...every single night. And only one person can help. Cormac Kelly runs a paranormal investigation business and doesn't have time to deal with misinformed tourists like Sean. But Sean has real magic in his pocket, and even though Cormac is a descendant of legendary druids, he soon finds himself out of his depth...and not because Sean's the first man he's felt anything for in a long time. The pair develop an unexpected and intensely sexual bond, but are threatened at every turn when Sean's case attracts the unwelcome attention of the mad sidhe lords of ancient Ireland. When Sean and Cormac are thrust backward in time to Ireland's violent history—and their own dark pasts—they must work together to escape the curse and save their fragile relationship.
Genre: Fantasy, time travel, MM romance, contemporary
Whump tropes: Curses, sent through time, torture
Whisper into the Night by Jay Leigh
Summary: Theo Moreau never wanted to be involved with politics, but when his mother wins the presidential election, he reluctantly agrees to tag along for his younger siblings. Nothing could have prepared him to juggle his anxiety, complex family dynamics, and the complicated world of the White House. Lacking supportive friends and family, he leans on his steadfast Secret Service agent as tensions rise across the divisive political landscape and the dangers of being close to the president come to the surface. Agent Connor O’Brien always wanted to be a hero, so working on the protective detail for the First Family seems like the perfect opportunity. What he isn’t expecting is to fall head over heels for the man under his protection. As their relationship blossoms, the foundation of the administration grows more unstable and the chatter from America’s right-wing demographic rises to a fever pitch. But when Theo becomes the target of their campaign, the stakes get even higher. Unsure of who to trust, and with little help from the President, Theo and Connor join forces with their motley group of friends to unravel the mystery of who is working against them from inside the White House before the situation turns explosive. As the sinister reach of this masked shadow spreads, Theo and Connor grow even closer and the magnitude of everything they risk losing propels them into a race against the nefarious mastermind, desperately clinging to the hope they’ve found in one another before their dream come true turns into a nightmare.
Genre: Contemporary, MM romance, suspense
Whump tropes: Anxiety, asthma, kidnapping, bad parents, bodyguard
Adonis by L Sherleen
Summary: Accused of a hate crime and expelled from school in his final year, Connor returns home to his seaside town to let everything blow over. There, not only does he have to learn to deal with the addition of two new stepbrothers and a new stepdad, but he also has to grapple with a world set against him. It’s not all bad though. Within his dad’s underwater lab, he discovers something in the deep. Something exciting. Something that calls to him. Something that doesn't shy away from the ugly in him as the world does. And Connor could use the distraction…even if it endangers his life.
Genre: Fantasy, MM romance, mermaids, science fiction, mystery
Whump tropes: Found family (kind of), bad parents, kidnapping, false accusations
A Rake of His Own by A.J. Lancaster
Summary: Marius Valstar doesn’t know which is worse: the dead body in his greenhouse or the naked fae prince on his desk. The only rakes of interest to Marius are garden tools. Not fae princes. Certainly not the arrogant, selfish fae prince he has the misfortune to have a history with. But when Prince Rakken turns up naked and bleeding in Marius’s college the same day a body appears in his greenhouse, scruples must take second place to solving a murder that could unravel the delicate balance between humans and fae. Marius’s own developing magical powers are more hindrance than help – as is Rakken’s bloodied past. Forced to work together, they must forge an uneasy alliance if they are to track down the killer. But how can Marius trust the man who represents everything he’s trying to avoid?
Genre: Fantasy, fae, MM romance, mystery
Whump tropes: Pain from telepathy, attempted murder, bodyguard
Wicked Fox by Kat Cho
Summary: Eighteen-year-old Gu Miyoung has a secret--she's a gumiho, a nine-tailed fox who must devour the energy of men in order to survive. Because so few believe in the old tales anymore, and with so many evil men no one will miss, the modern city of Seoul is the perfect place to hide and hunt. But after feeding one full moon, Miyoung crosses paths with Jihoon, a human boy, being attacked by a goblin deep in the forest. Against her better judgment, she violates the rules of survival to rescue the boy, losing her fox bead--her gumiho soul--in the process. Jihoon knows Miyoung is more than just a beautiful girl--he saw her nine tails the night she saved his life. His grandmother used to tell him stories of the gumiho, of their power and the danger they pose to humans. He's drawn to her anyway. With murderous forces lurking in the background, Miyoung and Jihoon develop a tenuous friendship that blossoms into something more. But when a young shaman tries to reunite Miyoung with her bead, the consequences are disastrous . . . forcing Miyoung to choose between her immortal life and Jihoon's.
Genre: Fantasy, young adult, mythology, romance
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