#that repressed controlled man falling apart

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, I’m looking for fics where Aziraphale has religious trauma specifically around sex. I wanna see him and Crowley working through it to have a healthy sexual relationship. Preferably on the shorter side like 20k ish or less but not super picky about that part. Thanks!

Hi. Here are some fics in which Aziraphale has religious trauma and explores sex with Crowley. Most of them are on the longer side, sorry...

Snake Lessons by chamyl (E)

“That’s the point, Crowley!” Aziraphale snapped. “I’ve never done this before. I couldn’t. They kept track of what we did with our corporations, and I’m sure Hell doesn’t care, but Heaven was very much clear that angels are not supposed to indulge in sex.” Crowley didn’t know how to respond to that. He tried to start several sentences at once, producing an array of incoherent sounds that made no sense at all. When he finally regained control over his tongue, he asked, “Not once? In six thousand years?”

in your own time by ineffabildaddy (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.

Night and Day by wyrmy (E)

Aziraphale Engel, black sheep of his strictly religious family, lives a quiet and monkish existence in the middle of London, trying to avoid the many temptations of the flesh and do his bit for the church that his father founded. But his quiet, untroubled, and unhappily narrow existence is about to come to an end, and he will be faced with the choice to give up even more of who he is or to survive in the real world.

Ink Stained Bleeding Hearts by WillowTea (E)

Ready for a fresh start, Anthony J. Crowley opens shop across the road from a lovely tattooist, Aziraphale Fell. After everything he's been through, Crowley is not ready to fall head over heels for Aziraphale, but he can't stop himself. The two navigate their new friendship and budding romance while addressing past hurts.

Out of Suffering Into Love by Slow_Burn_Sally (E)

Aziraphale is a sexually repressed man who grew up in a religious household. Crowley is an artist with a sordid past. Both of them are afraid to love and be loved.

Hired Heart by GayDemonicDisaster (E)

As a result of his sheltered upbringing, Aziraphale made it to 50 without exploring his sexuality or coming out. After 50, all that changed - he's gay, he's out, and wants to find love. He also wants to have sex. He's a tad nervous about that. His friend Agnes suggests he consult a professional and get some no-strings practice and advice, and build some confidence. And her friend Tracy runs an agency… Crowley has quite the breadth of sexual experience: he’s a high class escort. He’s been in his line of work for a long time, though in this industry, that’s not exactly an advantage. He likes his work, but the more he’s reminded that he’s not as young as he once was, the more he contemplates his exit strategy. When his bookings manager and friend Tracy gives him a new, nervous client, Crowley finds him unexpectedly captivating. In fact, Crowley can’t seem to get him out of his head. A Smitten Crowley is also a very silly Crowley, so prepare for giggles and fluff along with your love story and smut... This fic is sex worker positive, disability positive, & a variety of genders and sexual preferences are referred to in back story.

- Mod D

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter 10 of Lonely Remnants, “Wildfires have been eating you inside my head, Trying to smoke you out or burn you alive in it”, is here! Strap in, folks. I can’t tell you how excited I am to share this one with you all.

PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS ATTACHED TO THIS CHAPTER AND PROCEED WITH CAUTION. THIS CHAPTER IS PARTICULARLY ROUGH. I KNOW I SAW THAT A LOT, BUT IT IS VERY TRUE HERE.

Extras! :)

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title are from “Please Just Stay Dead” by Nichole Dollanganger! They are meant to reflect how Lydia’s image of her bold, strong brother is being irreparably altered, maybe even ruined.

- “Like a doomed man trudging towards the gallows, sure but unsteady. Like a dead girl walking.” - Heheh, foreshadowing.

- “The trail led into the road. It ended on the other side, next to the memorial. Not before it was… smeared on the road. Splattered all about, like the cause of it had been… impacted. Her fears were confirmed when she found one of those strange paw / feet among the large, dark smudge of blood and goop in the road.” - Yep, they got hit by a car! Karma, I guess.

- “It was… feasting on some festering roadkill with a terribly feral and manic fervor.” - That was Lawrence’s last ditch effort to try and regain control and heal their body.

- “The side of his face the ear had fallen off of seemed to be following suit. It was starting to turn to the goop and slough off, part of the flesh hanging limply off the cheek and exposing his blackened, cracked jawbone.” - While the whole rejection idea is based on the ending of “Bride of Re-Animator”, this particularly horrific mental image is based on an effect from “Smile 2” that really stuck with me!

- “His dad and twin loved him, but it… it weren’t enough to counter the hatred of his mother.” - Lawrence’s accent fades away as the Shoggoth talks more and gains more control as he gets weaker.

- “Lousy bum’s been drinkin’ since he were ten years old.” - Not by choice! But the Shoggoth is being really judgy regardless.

- “Joined a band, saw the country, got his wrist broken by a boyfriend.” - Band mention! There’s a whole bunch of fun lore surrounding them that lives in my head. Also, the rotten boyfriend who broke his wrist was Cyrus! Can’t escape that fella.

- “It suddenly reached up, placing a hand over the left side of it’s face, covering up the exposed bone and one of it’s eyes.” - This was it trying to stop it’s face from falling apart more. It didn’t work.

- “Mrs. D helped him fix himself. Clean up all the broken pieces ‘n make somethin’ outta them.” - A reference to “Dead Mom”!

- “Of all of the moments in his long drive, of all of the cars he passed, he had to hit the one containing two of the people he loved most.” - This bit was inspired by a similar moment in the movie “Signs”.

- “She remained still as the grave.” - heheh, more foreshadowing.

- “No, Scarecrow. You died too.” - Woof. There’s been hints throughout. Hell, even in the start of the first chapter! - “She was the lucky one. By some miracle, she made it out with only some minor head trauma and the loss of a substantial amount of her hearing.” - I even put “Living Dead Girl” on the Lonely Remnants playlist for this purpose, lol.

- “ “I haven’t been very truthful at all.” It’s fingers brushed over the scales dotting it’s nose.” - Every time it lied, it gained a snake scale, since snakes represent deceit.

- “We are… human suffering, given form. Anguish and agony, writhing deep below the earth. I am of Lawrence’s. Of all the pain and hurt he felt.” - Yeah sorry it was a metaphor for trauma and self repression this whole time. Mostly. Also, this is what Otho meant when he said “… always were the most… potent out of all of us, little brother.”

- “No more watchin’, no more peepin’, and…” - This is a reference to “Bigtop Burger”. I couldn’t help myself. Cesare was my main inspiration for the Shoggoth.

- “… I could always feel him, faintly, in the back of my mind. Breathing in the dark.” - GOTCHA WITH ANOTHER “Asteroid City” REFERENCE!

- “I… I am just a beast of the stony soil.” - This is inspired by a famous line from “Pet Sematary”, which inspired Lonely Remnants! It’s the first horror story I read at eight years old, lol.

Tag list: @raineisinkless @c0zmo-writes @musical-fiend @katslitterbox

(Want to be tagged in future updates for CorpseJuice / LoopJuice? Let me know!)

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

Summary “you come crawling back to me

but I’m already on the ground”

Pairing- Hobie Brown x f!reader

cw- smut, oral (f!receiving), sex, toxic relationship thats not a relationship undertones, not proofread/edited

»»————-　★　————-««

What you and Hobie had wasn’t normal. Barely even right. Spending nights together, bodies joined, minds collided, seeking everything but nothing all at once.

You become surrounded with nothing but each other, balls of erratic energy burning and burning until you combust and break into nothing, slipping away from each other. But it never lasts long does it?

1AM Wednesday

Laying on the bed staring up at the ceiling, Hobie clouding your mind as the dulling ache between your thighs rises. Sliding your hand down your body, under your panties.

Slowly, teasingly you rub your clit just how Hobie did, remembering how his hands felt against you, squeezing you, pleasuring you, you get closer to the edge. Thighs tightening around your hand your body releases a mediocre orgasm.

Pulling your hand away and letting it fall back on the bed you continue staring at the ceiling, thinking of only one thing; Hobie.

You wondered if he thought of you, if he touched himself to you as you just did. Steadily sitting up from the bed you slip a random pair of pants and shoes. Grabbing your coat you open the door, and to your surprise Hobie stood in front of you.

Looking him in the eye you try to hide the excitement he brought out in you, a quiet moment was shared between the two of you, so many unspoken things floating in the air.

Dropping your coat you smile at the man, grabbing hold of his vest pulling him into a rough kiss. The familiar cool metal of his piercing makes you smile against his lips. Pulling from the kiss he has a matching smirk, “I knew you’d be back.” You say pulling him through the door closing it behind him

“Says the one who just snogged me.” He replies, shrugging his vest off before taking his shirt up, discarding it somewhere on the apartment floor.

“Last time I checked the one who was standing outside my door like a lost puppy.” You retaliate. He rolls his eyes before grabbing the side of your neck and kisses you again, your hands fumble to the hem of your shirt pulling it off. Your bodies mold together as the kiss deepens as if hand carved to fit. When he pulls away you can feel yourself falling back to him just like every time before, and just like all those times you couldn’t give two shits.

Picking you up by the thighs Hobie heads to your bedroom, laying his slender body over yours he places kisses all over your naked chest, all the way to your stomach leaving bite marks that sting your skin all over you.

His cold hands come to the side of your pants, pulling them down, throwing them as he’d done all the others. Hooking your legs over his shoulder, kneading your thighs with his large hands, kissing your inner. “you’ve got no idea how much I’ve missed yeh’.” He barely whispers against your skin.

“Show me how much.” You say voice just like his barely over a whisper. Licking his lips he moves your underwear to the side, letting him admire you.

His tongue circles around your clit, the warmth of the muscle making you gasp a little. Flicking the rosebud over and over again your mind unwillingly turning to mush as he pushes two digits into you. Your hips mindlessly grind against his face. Obscene noise penetrates the air, from the squelch of your pussy as he stretches you, to the repressed moans that are fighting their way out.

Hobie sucks harder, loving the way you wither against him, groaning at every noise that successfully breaks free from you. The vibrations from him shot through you, electrifying every nerve ending within you. A wave of pleasure that you couldn’t control fills your body, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your thighs lock around his head keeping him there. Not that he complained as he moaned against your pussy, his hips pushing into the mattress as he watched you.

Once you release his head he crawls over you kissing you, you taste your cum and arousal on his mouth as he pulls you can feel how hard he was, looking into his wide eyes, his chest going up and down, “Can I?” He looks down and you nod your head urgently.

Slipping his black pants and boxers down he leans down and places a sweet kiss on your lips, it felt different from all the other rough ones, it felt…genuine. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me.” He whispers his cock limes up with your entrance. Wrapping your arms around his neck, “I could say the same thing.” You inhale sharply as his tip slides in. Your walls suck him in deeper until his balls rest snuggly against your ass.

“Can I move?” He asks breath shaky. Shaking your head fast, holding onto his shoulder now. Slowly retracting out of you, he leaves only the tip in before diving back in. His thrust, slow and hard hitting all of the places he knew you loved. Digging your nails into his shoulders with every harsh brush against your g-spot. Hobie looks down at you, his brown eyes big and full of something you couldn’t place. “Y/N,” he says you look up at him, his wild hair surrounding him, his black eyeliner smudged, he looks so beautiful. “Hobie.” You reply, the coil tightening in your stomach. “I- I” before he could finish a string of curses fall from him as he pumps you full of him. Those last few thrust give you what you need, mind numbing euphoria rushes through you.

Settling down on your bed you watch him get dressed before he sits next to you, admiring you. “See you tomorrow?” You ask and he nods before getting up and leaving.

He knew that he couldn’t tell you he loves you but he couldn’t never really let you go could he?

.

A/N- bad bitch wrote this in a bad writers block and in one sitting 😍 but this has been on my mind for a while, also I have to wait to see barbie till my birthday I’m so upset 😞 anyways love you and stay safe

[triviallytrue]

Korean War just seems so…unmythologizable? like obviously people do. Pro-American liberals and capitalists see it as the defense of an anticommunist free republic, mls see it as the defence of a proletariat state against the encroachment of empire. but really it was just senseless bloodshed. sad, broken hopes of democracy; soldiers fed on the dream of unbridled freedom after a horrendous occupation used as nothing more than cannon fodder by heroes turned rivalling petty despots. i dunno, i’m sorry for drunk ask-ing in ur in box. but like. history sucks. not the academic study. just the knowledge that all these people just like me. and i think my life so big so beautiful. but their lives were too. and they ended, unimportant, unmythologizable. in the cold uncaring mud. and for what? for dfucking what???

Yeah, I think the mythologizing on both sides hits a wall when you dig deeper into the historical realities of the time, which has left me in the somewhat unenviable position of disagreeing with what feels like basically everyone on this

The pro-American liberal idea of the Korean War as a just war in defense of a sovereign nation falls apart pretty easily - the split between North and South Korea was recent and done by imperial powers (the US and USSR) as a means of demarcating their respective zones of control, not a true split in any sense. The US went out of its way to sabotage any attempt at reconciliation in the years following the split, and the guy they put in charge arguably had a lot less popular legitimacy than his communist counterpart (and embarked on a campaign of right wing political violence to shore up his incredibly weak position)

So if you squint and ignore the context, you can say that the US was defending a sovereign nation, but it's one they created with no popular legitimacy at all, with a leader that brutalized his people. And none of it was necessary! The thing about the overwhelming power of the United States and its massive fucking military is that the whole "we need a right wing dictator to shore up this country against communism" routine is so transparently because the US wanted to support right wing dictators, not because it was in any sense necessary to ensure that the country wasn't communist. If anything, doing the whole sham democracy thing where you force everyone to vote for the asshole you put in charge massively benefits the communists! No wonder there was a massive insurgency going on

This is without even getting into the horrifying details of how exactly the war was prosecuted

And then there's the ML narrative, which correctly identifies the mass of popular support behind Kim Il-sung due to his time fighting against the Japanese occupation and conveniently elides historical details like "which side actually invaded the other, starting the full blown war" and other such unimportant details, like the subsequent structure of the North Korean government making it virtually impossible for anything resembling democratic influence on the political process to occur

If there's something to be said for Syngman Rhee, it's that his grandson is not currently ruling SK. He was deposed in 1960, and then after decades of political turmoil and various deeply shitty leaders (again, much of which probably could've been avoided if the US hadn't insisted on Rhee as their man in the 1940s) SK eventually became a place where you could vote and were a lot less likely to be the victim of political violence.

As for Democratic People's Republic of Korea, well. If your take on the Korean War is "I wish that instead of just the people of North Korea, everyone in Korea would have to live under the current North Korean government" I don't really know what to say about that. North Korea is repressive and isolated in the extreme - if you think that is the result of "people's committees" and the North Korean population's natural devotion to the Kim family spanning three generations now, you are at best a mark.

So yeah, it's a tragedy - the Japanese occupation of Korea was fucking horrifying, then the US and USSR arrived to artificially split the country with no serious attempt at reunification while putting two real bastards in charge, and then it escalated into a shooting war where millions of people died just for the 38th parallel to still be the dividing line.

So who benefited? Everyone but the Koreans, I suppose. The US gained a client state, managed to use the UN to do whatever it wanted, and demonstrated its commitment to suppressing communism via military force. The USSR gained a client state and saw the US spend a bunch of its military capacity on a war that cost the USSR very little and wasn't even won by the US. China got a buffer zone between it and the US empire and solidified their victory over the KMT, albeit at tremendous cost.

Hopefully someday the Korean War will end.

[alkaysani]

i know we're tired of the lawsuit arc because it was beat to death by the uwu buck stans but c'mon it was actually so good especially if you, i don't know, actually watch it and take in the fact that it was all about eddie and how he's starting to fall apart after repressing so much of his hurt and anger about shannon wanting to divorce him, he doesn't get to feel anything about that because she dies, and before he can grieve him, he's surrounded by family that's wanting to take his kid, and so he focuses on that

and he gets back to work as some sort of reprieve but no, this guy he met a few months ago who has now become one of his closest friend gets crushed by a firetruck, and i know we don't see what happens between s2 and s3 but s3 really starts with eddie having enough access in buck's life to be able to come into his apartment and pull him out of his bed, so they got close. they're best friends, and he knows his best friend is going through it, and he had a moment of 'maybe he should just suck it up' and was corrected and he tried to correct himself by giving said friend his heart because nothing lightens his day more than chris, and a tsunami hits them, and he thinks everything is okay because they're in the movies but no, suddenly, he's living in a world where his kid is dead, even for just a few seconds, eddie lived in a world where chris was gone, atop of everything else

and we know he feels a lot about it, feels so much about it, that he gives his best friend his heart again, because there is no one else in the world he trusts more than him, and there's that lightness, that reprieve for a little bit you know, but then the nightmares start. the nightmares start and his kid is suffering and hiding things from him and suddenly he feels like he is dragging his kid down, and he wants to help him, and he needs help to, but at this point there is still so much pride in him, he never want to see weak, so he turns it all in, and leaves it there and he doesn't ask for help, he wants to ask for help, but at this point he can't because he can't talk to his best friend because he sued, so when he sees him again, he's just so sad and he's so angry, and there's so much pain in that, and it's easy to just ignore it, and be angry because at least that hurt he can control. but he's only angry at himself for never being good enough, but never angry towards his friend, never his friend, who he forgives the moment they talk again, because even after all of that, he is still loving and he is still kind despite of all the pain and the anger

eddie goes through so much and he works through so much during the lawsuit and i hate that it's shadowed by how a lot of folks in fandom just made it all about buck when it had some of eddie's best character development full of hurt and angst and hope and life, and just, it's so good, but nah, majority don't see that. they just see this angry man being mean to their boy that can do no wrong and it's just unfair

[happyk44]

Jason who comes back to life but he's not quite right. The Lazarus pit - something went wrong. He's crazed as they all are when they reemerge, angry, and raging, but there's a difference, a change.

He bites down on the nearest person, some low-level assassin, and tears their throat out with his teeth. They fall to the ground, limp and choking for air they cannot receive. The others ready themselves. Their weapons are poised for attack.

But it doesn't happen.

Jason swallows flesh and blood and sinks to his knees, tearing and ripping at the dying below him. He hungers, he thirsts, and he consumes every bit of what is available. Blood, guts, flesh and heart.

Oh, does he savour that heart.

It becomes a threat to trainees. Fail, and you'll be offered up to the man that flanks Talia's side, that carries her young son, as protective as a bear. The man with teeth so sharp, and nails like claws.

Fail, and he will consume you whole, devour you while you still breathe, and feast on your screams.

It never quite goes away, but as time passes, it becomes controlled, a loud itch at the back of his mind, but nothing he can't adjust around. How many years on the street did he itch for things he couldn't have? Countless. Even homed and housed, he itched.

He knows how to repress the itch, to let it sit, angry and demanding at the back of his head. So strong, sometimes he fears only a drill to his skull will scratch it out.

He leaves the League behind. Becomes a fearsome creature. Hides his teeth behind a red mask, and his claws behind warm leather gloves. But as he slashes and shoots and decapitates, the itch burns. Blood flows, flesh sits limp. The still pumping organs, working and moving with the last words of a dying brain.

What a waste to leave it all behind, the itch whispers.

He agrees.

What a waste.

He doesn't eat in Gotham. His acts are a message, and there's no message if there's no body. But he ventures outside it, for bounties, for treats. Never too often. If he feeds the itch too much, it'll overpower him. But just enough. A birthday present to himself. A new years celebration.

Small tastes scattered sparsely through the year.

Damian emerges, young and feisty like his mother, and Jason remembers a toddler sucking on a pacifier as he organizes knives by size. How much the boy has changed since then. How little he has. Growth and personality.

The biggest change is the kill. Blood doesn't drip down his hands. Doesn't freckle his face with meaningless splatter. Swords have been discarded. He doesn't touch Jason's guns as they're disassembled to be cleans. He knows how. He's used them.

Jason remembers holding tiny hands around a pistol, a small frame against his chest, steadied, before the deadly shot. He remembers the sound. How Damian didn't flinch. Remembers the blood. The curious eyes staring down at a gasping body.

He remembers eating. Digging in, more civilized than eating a person should be, and remembers wide young eyes watching. Watching. Then tucking a tissue to the blood soaking his chin and wiping it away.

Unbothered and uncaring to the person below. But mimicking kindness he was taught to the beast in front of him.

No wonder Goliath followed him home.

Damian has always had more love for monsters than humans.

Love that shows in the late night of Jason's birthday. When he emerges through the window into the tiny apartment he's hidden himself in this month, and finds a helpless woman sitting, naked and gagged, in the middle of the floor. She is kept near motionless with strong rope. There's a note taped to her face.

Happy birthday. Enjoy your gift.

The delicate handwriting needs no signature.

There's a folder beside her. Jason ignores her gagged cries to pick it up. There are many papers inside it - police reports of domestic violence, a CPS report that ends with a reluctant acceptance of no actionable strategies, x-rays of small broken bones and pictures of bruises on young faces. There are tiny notations written in delicate handwriting - all fact, no opinions.

Jason reads and seethes. Some people forget that mothers can be terrible to their children too. Jason doesn't.

He can't.

So he eats.

[silverwhittlingknife]

When people say that Dick “has a temper” what do they mean?  Is he the type to blow up over an inconvenience, be impatient, or rage-quit?

Ahhhh, I had a lot of fun with this. Thanks for the ask, anon. <3

My main feeling about Dick's temper is it's an important part of his characterization, and it's a fun part of his characterization, but I also try not to overemphasize it? A lot of my thoughts are here; also @theflyingwonder has some good panel collections here and here and here if you want to see what Dick generally looks like when he's grumpy about something.

General thoughts / caveats:

Anger is obviously not the only emotion Dick ever feels!! He feels many other emotions too!! The fact that he is capable of getting really angry sometimes does not mean that he is angry all the time!!

He's a person who feels emotions very deeply - anger, love, loyalty, etc. - but also has a very conflicted relationship with his emotions. He aspires to be perfectly controlled, like he imagines Bruce is, and he's ashamed of moments when he loses control. Because he's wound pretty tight and represses a lot, his emotions can be a bit explosive when he loses his grip on them.

I would never describe him as "an angry person." He doesn't walk around fuming at the world and looking for things to be mad about, y'know? He's a person who wants to be optimistic and tries to be optimistic. This very much includes when he's Robin.

He wouldn't blow up over an inconvenience unless he was already really upset about something more serious. But yeah, if he's upset about something important, sometimes he'll lash out at whatever's closest.

He's methodical and focused; he'll sometimes get impatient when he's, say, bored by his friends' TV preferences, and in general he gets restless and likes to be moving, but if he's got a challenging task to complete he's completely capable of hyper-focusing on it.

In his civilian life, he generally has a pretty good grip on the anger - so e.g. I don't remember him ever shouting at Clancy or civilian friends in general. When a reporter tries to get dirt on him by interviewing his neighbors at his apartment complex, they universally gush about how nice he is.

Meanwhile, in his vigilante life, he's got a rigid moral code and a rigid sense of duty. He cares a lot about helping people and protecting civilians, and he's emotionally-fulfilled by it, and he can be very kind. But he's also a super-intense person who takes his responsibilities seriously, and he'll get sharp with people that he feels aren't being serious enough. He only screws around when he's with people who are very serious themselves, like Bruce.

In an argument, Dick's generally direct and confrontational: he'll snap at you to your face, not sulk behind your back. Even when he's being a bit more passive-aggressive, he's not subtle about it. If Dick's annoyed with you, you'll know. If he doesn't like you, he makes it obvious.

Jean-Paul: I've seen you with Robin - you like Robin. Dick: You got a problem with Robin? Jean-Paul: No! I like Robin, too. He's an exceptional young man. I just mean... it's obvious when you like someone. And equally obvious that you don't like me. (GK 14)

Dick's just a very dynamic character in general, rather than a static one. When he's relaxed, he can be very easygoing and friendly; if you get off on the wrong foot with him, he's prickly and often harsh. He's got a very serious core, a strong sense of principle, and a passionate sense of loyalty to the people he cares about. Here's a light-hearted moment with Dick and Tim fooling around playing tag:

Dick (grabbing Tim from above): Gotcha! Tim: Augh! (B: Transference)

This is from the exact same arc as the panel at the top - but before Hugo Strange almost kills Bruce. And just in general I think this panel is a good reminder that Dick does all kinds of things that are not about being angry, that he's also the person who keeps Tim fed and repeatedly saves him from falling, that sometimes he'll pour his heart out to Bruce, that he really really really loves his friends, and so on.

Now, all that said, if you would like an extensive deep dive into Dick yelling at people (and really, who wouldn't? yelling is fun!), I've collected a super-long list of quotes which I've attempted to corral into organization. Below the cut:

Dick vs. criminals

Dick vs. Bruce

Dick + list of reasons he gets upset

Dick + annoyance at friends/teammates

Dick + lashing out at loved ones (rare! but, uh, very memorable)

Dick + first meetings with future siblings (+Steph)

In conclusion

Anger at Criminals

Dick's temper is an important part of how he thinks of himself: he's intensely self-aware about his temper and also conflicted about it. It comes up most often when he's fighting criminals, especially when they're threatening people he loves:

Dick (internally): At first, I couldn't believe what they were saying… but as the truth sank in, I felt a rage growing so great inside me - that it felt like I was just a part of the anger, instead of it being a part of me. Kid!Dick: Those animals! They murdered my mother and father! I'm going to the police! Bruce: No... not yet. (Secret Origins 13) Deathwing: You've been so angry for so long, Dick. Learn to accept it because you have no choice. You will become me, Dick, and I know because I am your worst nightmare! I am you! Dick: Never! I'm not you and I'll never be you! Yeah, I get angry. Sometimes I get so pissed I want to break everything in sight. But everyone gets mad. Everyone gets frustrated. But I don't fight out of anger! I fight when there's something wrong that needs to be stopped! And that's why I'll never be you! I don't fight to kill - I fight to protect! And what you said about Batman - well, pal, screw you. He's the best mentor anyone ever had! (NT 100) Dick (internally): I hit him harder than I should. Not sure why. It worries me that it feels so right. (N 2) Dick: I thought I was more in control than that. But I lost it. Tim: It was made right, Dick. The Joker is alive and not well in a maximum security cell. Dick: It’s not right with me. I never thought I could be a killer. I’m wrong. There’s a part of me I never saw before. The rage. I never felt anger like that. I feel like it clawed me up inside. (N 64) Dick (internally): Nothing Jason says can be taken for truth. He says Tim is dead. I'll need more proof than his word and an empty cowl. Because right now, I need to keep that hope alive. If for nothing else, then to keep me from losing control… and I won't let that happen. Can't let that happen. Can't. Dick (punching Jason): WHERE IS HE, JASON? Jason: Depends on what kind of life he led. Dick (breaking Jason's nose, then internally): There goes his nose. Control your anger. (BftC 3) Jason (internally): Dick is different from Bruce. In the way he fights. In the way he thinks. And the way he feels. And he gets angry. Really angry. That anger, it'd make him a great Batman, if he'd let it. He's trying too much to be like him.  The good son. Man, I hate him.  (B&R 25)

So something you'll notice about all of these moments is that Dick isn't proud of his anger. He doesn't experience it as cathartic, and he isn't proud of the things he does when he's angry. His anger is an enemy; it's the person he doesn't want to be, to the extent that after the fact being angry almost feels like an out-of-body experience, because in the burn of anger he'll do things that his conscious mind rejects.

I tend to think of anger for Dick as akin to a temptation. He's strong and talented and smart. He's capable of really hurting people. He also believes - viscerally, fiercely - that it's wrong to do so.

Worth remembering: Dick's big confrontation with Zucco, in most of his origin stories, involves taking the photo that gets him arrested:

Dick (remembering): Twenty-four hours later, we were on the trail of Boss Zucco... and when he murdered his own henchman, I took the photo that sent Zucco to prison! (Secret Origins 13)

And in Batman: Year Three, he's furious when he thinks that Bruce might have arranged for Zucco to get killed - when Dick's calm and thinking clearly, he believes it's wrong to kill even people who are clearly evil. It's only when he's swept up in emotion that he'll get violent.

Anger at Bruce

... Look, I had to give Bruce his own category.

Dick and Bruce have a lot of fights. Like, a lot of fights.

Now, this isn't at all particular to Dick! Dick's just one of many, many, many people in Bruce's life who periodically get fed up with him. So I wouldn't gloss this as Dick being unusually short-tempered - post-Crisis Bruce would provoke a saint (and does! at one point Clark briefly votes him out of the JLA!). And Dick doesn't always get angry when Bruce is being a jerk to him - sometimes he's just discouraged, or depressed.

But at the same time, Dick's not a pushover, and when he's sufficiently provoked, he'll often track Bruce down to confront him / demand an explanation / demand better behavior / etc. Paradoxically, I actually tend to see these confrontations as an expression of Dick's faith in Bruce. He gets angry because he expects better.

Here's a small sampling of Dick-angry-at-Bruce moments (some confrontations, some where Dick's just fuming on his own):

Bruce: Listen to me. Dick: Listen to you? You hand Gotham over to that nutcase altar boy. You leave this kid out to dry without a snowball's chance. Then you throw everything you’ve lived for aside like it was nothing! Killing this creep doesn’t make you as bad as the scum we hunt. It makes you worse. Because they never stood for anything. (R 8) Dick: If you say anything about 'finding myself,' I think I'll puke. Bruce: I thought you'd be glad to see me back. Dick: That depends on why you came back. Bruce: To take up the mantle again. To take back my place. Dick: For how long this time? Bruce: Not now, Dick. We can talk about this when - Dick: Right now. We're settling this right now, Bruce. (R 12 - Bruce has abruptly reappeared in the Batcave after leaving Dick and Tim in charge during Prodigal)

Dick: It was you who told us to stay out of Gotham. I’ve got a life here. I can’t just walk away from that. You’ll have to - (Bruce hangs up on him) Damn you! (N 34 - Bruce has been AWOL for months and now abruptly summons Dick to join him in No Man's Land) Dick (internally): Bruce is playing martyr. Keeping us at a distance. […] Why does it have to be this way with us? WHY? (He punches his car, and his hand comes away bloody.) Uncontrollable rage. The same rage I felt when I killed the Joker. Thought I had it under control. (N 65 - Bruce is accused of murder and freezing out the Bats) Bruce: What are you doing out of bed? Dick: You did it again, didn't you? You pushed everyone away! (N 99) Bruce: I assume this isn't a social call? Dick: What the hell is the matter with you? I mean, aside from the obvious! Ignoring the many layers of denial, and the fifty feet of psychological body armor that you throw up to avoid feeling anything! Aside from that! And the pathological need to control everything on Earth and beyond! Ignoring all that! What exactly is your compulsion, your burning desire to deceive, lie, and manipulate the only people who give a good god damn about you?! Bruce: You getting to a point? (O 21 - Dick just found out that Bruce was secretly funding the Outsiders)

Dick's relationship with Bruce is Complicated (TM), because he's also incredibly loyal, and - despite everything - he loves Bruce a lot. A lot of Dick's anger comes out of this frustrated loyalty - Dick feels betrayed and hurt because he loves Bruce so much. Here's a panel from later in Outsiders 21:

Bruce: You shouldn't place that much faith in me. Dick: I have more faith in you than anyone.

Reasons why Dick gets angry: an incomplete list

So if Dick isn't really the type to, say, rage-quit a game, then what does he get angry about (other than criminals and Bruce in general)?

I've tried to loosely categorize what seem to me to be the main things that can make him lose his temper:

as above, somebody Dick loves has been hurt and he's furious at the person who did it (so e.g. trying to kill the Wildebeests when they threaten the Titans, trying to kill Hugo Strange for trying to kill Bruce, lashing out at Tumult when he hurts Tim),

he's feeling attacked or betrayed and he's lashing out in self-defense (so e.g. a lot of the fights with Bruce, punching Roy after Roy fires him in New Titans, or calling Roy a junkie when Roy tells him he's just like Bruce in Outsiders, or yelling at Tim when Tim's insisting he should be Robin again),

he's angry about a lack of loyalty (so e.g. he's furious and feels betrayed when he learns that Bruce has replaced him with Jason; he's angry at Bruce for picking Azrael as Batman instead of Dick; he's angry at Tim when Tim suggests Bruce might be a murderer)

he's jealous (so e.g. he's hurt and angry when Kory marries someone else; his resentment of Azrael is much more about Bruce than it is about Azrael)

he's angry at another vigilante for behaving too violently/irresponsibly (so e.g. he has multiple fights with Kory insisting that she can't kill anyone; he's similarly furious with Bruce when he thinks Bruce has tried to kill someone; he snaps at the Titans in general after a failed mission; he's harsh about Tim and his team during Graduation Day)

he's unhappy and taking it out on someone else, often to drive them away (so e.g. he snaps at Donna and Alfred when he's depressed about Kory's marriage - arguably there's some supernatural influence here, but IMO he'd do it anyway; he gets snappish with Tim when he's depressed about his own lack of progress with Chulo/in Blüdhaven and also when he's actually mad at Bruce about Jean-Paul; he's very harsh to Babs and Wally when they try to comfort him post-J:LL; arguably most of his behavior in Outsiders after Donna's death falls under this category too),

he's unhappy and he's taking it out on an inanimate object (so e.g. smashing things after hearing about Kory's potential marriage; punching his car until his hand is bloody after Bruce has been a jerk to him, smashing a sign when Babs is jabbing at him by comparing him to Bruce),

his privacy is being violated by paparazzi (Dick hates photographers and will not hesitate to punch them or destroy their equipment)

I think something important about all these reasons is... they're understandable? It's not surprising that Dick is upset about the woman he loves marrying someone else; it would be stranger if he wasn't upset. It's not surprising that he lashes out defensively when he's feeing attacked - this is an extremely common thing to do! Dick's anger isn't a weird cloud of rage that just descends on him for no reason; he gets angry when he has something to get angry about.

That said, he does have particular things he's especially touchy about - loyalty, privacy, control, etc. And his anger can be physical - he does break things.

Dick + annoyance with friends/teammates

Dick calls a team meeting to rebuke the Titans in Titans 13

This is lower-key, so I wouldn't always describe this as anger per se, but it feels relevant: Dick can get snappish if he's in a bad mood, though he'll usually back off if it's pointed out to him:

Dick: Half this world goes to hell in a handcart and you do nothing? Donna: Hey, don't shout at me because your personal life has gone crazy. We had a crisis… Dick: You had a crisis? Who hasn't? And my personal life, for what it's worth, is a: just fine, and b: none of your business. Do me a favor and go. I want to be alone. (NTT 18 - Dick's upset because Kory is marrying someone else)

Dick: Roy! What the hell is this? Why is Lian in the way? She should be in a crib or something, not where people can step on her. Roy: Dick, my daughter is in nobody's way, and I'm watching her every move. Dick: Oh, yeah? Well, I've had it - Roy: Dick, your friends are here to help you and you're not making it any easier. C'mon, pal - calm down. Dick: You're right. I'm sorry. This is all getting to me. Roy: Really? The immediate world and I never noticed. (NT 100)

Dick (surprising Tim): You should've known you wouldn't hear anything. Not in this wind - but if you'd been downwind on the other side, you might have scented me. Tim (startled): Nightwing! Dick: You did want to meet - or do you just like playing computer games? Now let’s make it snappy - I’m in New York on my own business. Tim: And a big fat hi to you, too. (Showcase '93 11 - Dick's upset because he's blaming himself for someone Chulo murdered)

Dick: He didn't send you to check up on me? Tim: Huh? Dick (scowling): Don't play dumb. Tim: Batman? I came down on my own, Dick. What's with the attitude? Dick: Sorry, Tim. I haven't been making a lot of progress since I got here. (N 6 - Dick's self-aware here - he's on edge because he thinks he's doing a bad job)

Babs: Okay, calm down, take a deep breath, and explain again why you’re so angry… Dick: Why am I angry? I’m not angry, I’m–I’m–I’m dismayed, okay? I’m dismayed that there can be a Robin who believes Batman could be guilty of murder! How could that happen, Babs? How could that happen?! (GK 26) Kory: You could say goodbye to your teammates. Dick: They're not my teammates anymore. Kory: They noticed. (TT/O Secret Files 2005)

You'll notice that several of these include Dick backtracking and apologizing. He doesn't hold grudges or fume forever! And Dick's generally self-aware enough to realize why he's snappish once he takes a step back:

Dick: I…I’m sorry…I know this isn’t your fault. Here I’m attacking you - and you’re probably just as scared as I am. I just feel so frustrated. Batman could always remain calm in a crisis. I guess that’s just another difference between us. Maybe I’d be better off if I just cut myself off from all feeling like he does. (NT 77)

Something Dick generally isn't apologetic about: Dick is intensely self-critical about badly-done vigilante work, and in a team setting, he's not that patient with other people's mistakes.

Here's Dick calling a team meeting so he can scold the team in Titans 13:

Dick: Lock the doors, sit down, and pay attention. And that's an order. ... Our performance against Tartarus and the HIVE was unacceptable. Each and every one of you should thank God you weren't killed.

Here's an argument between Dick and Donna in Graduation Day 2 - the context is that Young Justice just screwed up an earlier fight, and Tim's berating himself and Conner while Dick and Donna eavesdrop (you'll notice that like Dick, Tim tends to be pretty self-critical + impatient with teammates):

Conner: The Titans got their lumps. Tim: No, the Titans got our lumps. They were looking out for us. There we were, shoulder to shoulder with the inspiration for Young Justice. And we lose half our team and half of theirs. Conner: Tim, I bet they were a lot like us when they started. Tim: No, I don't think so. (Donna and Dick are eavesdropping.) Donna: He's being awfully hard on himself. Kind of reminds me of someone. Dick: I don't know what you're talking about. Donna: You could tell him he's wrong. Dick: Is he? Donna: We stepped in it plenty of times, Dick. Plenty. We got beat by Dr. Light. Completely pantsed by Trident. We had the ill-conceived idea that the Mad Mod was a threat. There was that time in South America when we left Garth in the sun for three hours. Lots of stuff… We even got kidnapped by Count Vertigo. How embarrassing was that? Dick: I didn't get kidnapped. I got nabbed when I was coming to save Roy. Donna: Nevertheless, they could use a kind word. Dick: I'm not sure a kind word is what they need.

The upshot is that Donna goes to comfort Cassie while Dick goes off alone.

Again, the point is not that Dick goes around fuming about his teammates 24/7! He cares about the Titans and trusts them to watch his back; he feels the same way about Tim.

But in the heat of the moment, he'll sometimes get snappish or impatient, especially with people he's close to. The friends that Dick has who stick around are the ones who are tough enough to stand up to him, and who understand him enough not to take his occasional moods personally.

Dick + lashing out at loved ones

This one's a bit meaner. Dick's really good at picking out other people's insecurities, which he almost never uses against them ... but when he's retaliating, he's got an instinct for what will hurt the most:

Dick: No, I won't stop it. How dare you tell me what to do when you screwed up so badly Raven could be dead by now? Who knows what Mento did to Gar and Vic? Maybe your failure killed Kole. No, I won't stop. I won't! Donna (punching him): Shut up, Dick! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I don't want to hear anymore! Dick: But you're going to, Donna. You made me listen to what you had to say. But you don't like hearing the truth about yourself, do you? The perfect Donna Troy maybe isn't so perfect after all. (NTT 19 - Dick's under an ambiguous amount of Brother Blood influence during this period, but he's also just really upset about Kory, and I tend to interpret BB as "reducing his self-control" not "he's a totally different person")

Bruce: I didn't expect to see you again. Dick: I heard about Jason. I'm really sorry, Bruce. Bruce: You weren't at the funeral. People asked about you. Dick: C'mon, Bruce - talk. Don't turn your back on me. I'm here… now. Bruce: You were lucky. When you didn't listen to me, your injuries weren't fatal. Of course, by the time I properly trained you - Dick: Bruce, c'mon…lay off. I'm not here to fight. Bruce: Then don't! Dick: Are you blaming me? I left, so Jason replaced me, and because I left he died? No way, pal. Jason wasn't me. I was a trained acrobat. I could think quickly in perilous situations. But why did you let him become Robin before he was ready?!? Bruce (punching him): Don't you dare blame me for Jason's death! Don't you dare! (NT 55 - this fight is ofc 110% Bruce's fault even before the punch, but Dick absolutely is blaming Bruce for Jason's death here) Dick (trying to punch Roy): GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME, YOU TRAITOR!  Roy: Dick, I'm your friend… Blast it, man - why are you doing this?  Dick: Friends don't turn on friends, Harper. I've been there every time you called me. I sat up with you all night while you were detoxing. That was not a pretty sight.  (NT 101 - Dick's upset about getting fired as team leader)

Dick: I disgraced myself and my uniform. Both uniforms. I have to learn to live with that or quit. No more surprise visits, Babs. Don't make me sorry I put an elevator in this building. (BoP 37)

Roy: Look at you! Your greatest fear in life, the thing that eats at you - is that you're terrified of becoming Batman!! A cold, detached, emotionless loner. I've got news for you, that's exactly what you are. You've become the man who raised you. Dick: Yeah…and you're just like the man who raised you. A shallow, self-loathing, womanizing thrill-seeker. Except he was never a junkie. (O 16) Gar: I guess it doesn't bother you that your new teammate killed your old one? 'Cause it sure bothers the hell outta me. Dick: Enough. I'm here to find Kory and Tim. I don't need Terra's best friend lecturing me about loyalty. (TT/O Secret Files 2005)

Dick + 1st meetings with future siblings (+Steph)

I hesitated including this on the list because it's lower-key and not always anger per se, but I think a lot of times when people say Dick "has a temper," they're not necessarily talking about his angriest moments so much as pushing back against the idea that he's happy or welcoming all the time.

If you're reading post-Crisis canon, Dick's a prickly introvert who can be slow to warm up to newcomers in Gotham. He's not exclusively cranky by any means! But he's not all smiles, either. Here are some snappish moments from first meetings with Jason, Tim, Cass, Damian, and Steph:

Dick: They'll probably switch to another lab, now that you've spooked them. Jason: Then it's no big deal! We'll just locate their new digs and bust them when they take possession. Dick: Wrong! I'll locate the new lab all by myself! You're going home to tell Batman how you screwed up tonight! Jason: Come on... (from Dick's first meeting with Jason in B 416 - Jason attacked a group of criminals too hastily)

Dick: Now, who the hell are you? Tim: That doesn't matter now. Dick, look at this please. Dick: Kid, I don't like games. (from Dick's first-technically-second meeting with Tim in LPoD - Tim's been chasing him all around the circus, and although Dick doesn't yet know this, also broke into his apartment)

Bruce: You can trust her. Dick: Six months ago, that would've gotten you further than it will now. Now, I'm not sure it's enough. Bruce: What more would it take? Dick: An explanation of who she is for a start. (from Dick's first meeting with Cass in B: LotDK 120 - Bruce went AWOL for months and has now resurfaced with a protégé) Jason: It's a new world. It's not all backflips and balance bars. You were good. Were. But Gotham needs a tougher Robin now. Dick (internally): A sneaky, mean little punk. Maybe you hired him before the Joker could. (from the retold version of Dick's first meeting with Jason in N 104 - Bruce gave stupid instructions leading Jason to misunderstand and pick a fight with Dick)

Dick (internally, when he notices Damian's makeshift Robin costume): Damian's costume. Note to self: smack a clue into this kid. Damian: You're embarrassing me! Dick: You do that just fine on your own. (from Dick's first meeting with Damian in N 138 - Damian's probably scared, which means he's snarky; he's making rude remarks and resisting Dick and Tim's attempts to protect him)

Dick: What in the hell were - are - you thinking, throwing someone so reckless into the field like that? Babs: Gosh, Dick - I'm sorry I haven't spent more time trying to train a murderous little twit. (from right after Dick's first meeting with Steph in BG 5 - Steph accidentally froze Damian)

How much you weight these moments depends a lot on your personal aesthetic preferences! I love conflict, and Dick's initially kinda thorny relationships with his siblings are part of why I enjoy him as a character. I don't feel the need to "fix" this kind of grumpiness and honestly I don't even really see it as a flaw? Dick's not morally obliged to like his future siblings on first meeting them, and if he never got snappish with any siblings ever, no matter how annoying they were being, he'd be a lot less interesting to me personally.

For me, Dick's prickly side adds an important nuance to his characterization, and makes it more compelling. He's a human being, not a conduct book! His strength is that he's willing to reconsider his first impressions, not that he never has negative first impressions.

That said, obviously genre and context matter! I have enjoyed plenty of softer takes on the Batfamily in fanworks, and in a softer, gentler world like e.g. WFA, it would be weird to keep Dick's grumpier moments. Also, Dick obviously isn't 24/7 harsh to his siblings - he can also be really empathetic and protective, and although he never gets especially close to e.g. Steph, he does change his mind about her, and he's ultimately a huge source of emotional support to Tim and Damian (they grow on him! ... eventually).

In Conclusion

One of my favorite Dick stories of all time is Nightwing 139, and I think it nicely encapsulates how I see Dick's anger - it's an important contrast to his softer side. He's a person with an instinctive temper, and compassion and understanding aren't always immediate or easy or effortless for him. But he's also a loving person with a big heart, and it's the love that always matters to him in the end.

Here's Dick discovering that Tim is thinking about using the Lazarus Pit, getting angry, and leaping down to try to physically stop him ("He may not stop you, but I sure as hell will!")

Dick (sarcastically): So, Robin... you think maybe we can hug this out?

It's important to me that Dick's first instinct is to have a physical fight, not to try to talk! He does all the wrong things before he does the right thing! He doesn't magically know the right thing to say to Tim right away!

But doing the right thing matters to him, and Tim matters to him, which is why he gets there eventually. When Tim tears up Dick softens at once:

And in the end Dick backs off and lets Tim make the choice, which isn't easy or instinctive for him either! But it's the right thing to do, and it's what Tim needs to pull himself out of the power struggle and realize he's making a mistake, and then Tim stammers apologies and Dick reassures him and they do hug it out, and it's very tender:

Without Dick's anger, you don't have a lot of his stories. But his anger doesn't define him - he doesn't let it. As Dick puts it,

"Yeah, I get angry. Sometimes I get so pissed I want to break everything in sight. But everyone gets mad. Everyone gets frustrated. But I don't fight out of anger! I fight when there's something wrong that needs to be stopped! And that's why I'll never be you! I don't fight to kill - I fight to protect!

And that's a big part of why I think he's great.

[raccoonfallsharder]

Rocket is pretty intersex and GNC coded to me, maybe enby or demiboy or agender, just not cis at least even though he's presumably male and uses he/him. He was forcibly changed to fit a system that would never accept him, that despite being torn apart and sewn into something 'normal' people still consider him a freak. He was led to believe it he just did what was expected of him that he'd be accepted by his tormentors. But after a while he took control of his own identity, he knows he's a freak and he owns it, don't you ever call him one though. It's his label, his reclaimed word.

I guarantee if you were to ask him "What's your gender?" he'd say something like "I don't flarkin' know. Guy?" as if he goes to he/him but honestly doesn't care either way. I think if he were to think about what specific label he falls into, if someone were to define them all and ask him which one he was, he'd get annoyed at the very least and reject the question. "Ain't no thing like me 'cept me."

hi i am still catching up on asks from the hospital waiting room where I’m camping out this week (there are a few asks that are older I’m still working on sorry!!) but i happened to have time right in this moment to write my gut reaction to this which is

rocket’s gender is absolutely guy, and yeah, he made it up hisself, thankyouverymuch. honestly i don’t even think he’d have a concept of cis. you’d have to explain it to him and he’d be like “wow, another way this mudball flarkin’ sucks.” like, his entire sentient, conscious, self-aware life has been spent traveling to planets with hundreds of genders, no genders, all genders, genders that exist on a sliding scale or a color wheel, genders that aren’t decided until three turns of the multicalendar year into their species-equivalent of emotional maturity, genders that are formally reassessed every twenty-two cycles, genders that are entirely self- and individually-decided, and genders that vary minute to minute (hello cyxlore).

also tbh there isn’t really any sexual dimorphism in raccoons so he could be packing anything. i just happen to enjoy writing him with a dick.

honestly this exchange goes something like this:

random repressed earther: so what pronouns do you use

rocket: mostly he/him these days

earther: so you’d consider yourself a man?

rocket: a what

earther: like, a male

rocket: a what

earther: i mean i assume you have a dick

rocket: wouldn’t you like to know

earther: you’re a man because you have male sex organs and use he/him

rocket:

rocket: no im a guy and i have guy sex organs, ‘cause again, im a guy. not a man or a male or a rabboon or any other weird-ass labels you people wanna put on me. also earthers are fuckin preverts.

[drabbles-mc]

I do not know if you are still during the dirty headcannons (or when they even started because I just ran across the one you did for Gilly and completely blacked out) but I would love to see what your little gremlin brain can some up with for Y for Miguel or EZ. Whomever, really. I know I am not going to be ready, but I will welcome it either way. I love you.

the way that there is never really an end date to any ask game i reblog because i'll always reply no matter how late you send it 😂 plus let's be real @darqchilddaydreamz let that shit sit and collect some interest before she came bursting into my inbox with that so we're all on this journey together now lmao

thoughts under the cut for: Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

perhaps someone should take my laptop and entire tumblr account away from me because the actual first thing that popped into my head when i read this in regards to Miguel was that that man should be happy that i call him anything let alone something he prefers 😂😂 but that's a me problem. just because i deem him unfuckable doesn't mean that he is lmao

but! on a more serious note. i do think that Miguel is the kind of guy who is very into the whole "Sir" thing. he's on that power trip constantly and we both know that it won't end just because he's in the bedroom. and while in my head he doesn't use any petnames for his girl that are particularly out of the ordinary, i do think that the tone in which he says those pet names are really what sets the whole mood. i think that a majority of the time they aren't really said with affection as much as they are said like a taunt. that's the game he's looking to play. nine times out of ten he wants someone to stroke his ego and if you want to do that by calling him Sir then he won't say no.

howeverrrrr that one other time out of ten????? i think that the right woman would most definitely be able to flip that dynamic on its head. a man with a complex like the one he's got??? the second someone is able to get him into submission mode it is game over. you could taunt and coo and call him baby as patronizingly as you want but if you had him in the right headspace for it he'd still be falling over himself to do whatever it is that you want. as he should be. 😌

Ezekiel on the other hand??? look. we all know. we all know I'm a mess and I'm biased about this man and i simply cannot be stopped. we all know this. but. in terms of things that i haven't already written or blown your dms up about...i have had....a thought or two in my time...

thoughts like i knooow this man has slipped up and called his girl "mommy" without meaning to before. that man has all that trauma and all those repressed feelings. he is a posterchild for it. and the first time it happens he doesn't mean to but once he says it, it's not like he can just take it back. he doesn't mean to say it and he definitely doesn't expect it to be something that feels good after the initial three seconds of panic after he said it. but he did and it does and then it's something that he now knows about himself.

and it's never an accident after that. it's not a constant though either. it happens when he feels like everything is falling apart or out of control and he needs to feel like he's the one being taken care of for once instead of being the one taking care of people. and he's soft and he's needy and he's never really let go of control like that before.

ANYWAY. if you ever find yourself wondering what's going on in the recesses of my little gremlin brain. there's a tiny little slice of it for you. 😂 we out here sleep-deprived and full of thots 😂😂

Dirty Headcanon Game

[effieandtim]

i don't think hawk jumped at going back home with lucy bc he doesn't love tim enough, i think it's clear that it's in part fear, that he would finally have to confront the reality of his marriage, and his sexuality to an extent, and that his marriage of 30 years is falling apart, even if they didn't love each other like that (or at least hawk didn't love lucy romantically) they still got along well enough and went through a lot together, and he's trying hard to keep his grasp on that life and stop it from changing. and probably with tim dying, he wants subconsciously to hold on to his ~other life as much as he can, to not lose that as well. i think that they decided not to have him say i love you to tim indicates that hawk was still repressing that part of himself in the 80s, even after tim died, until the quilt scene. he was clearly not ready at all to part with that life and embrace the other side of himself.

apologies i wasnt able to answer this earlier

yeah i agree - i think hawk was going through a lot of stuff, he was losing the man he loved and there was clear guilt about everything that happened plus fear of not only losing tim, but also the cracks that were forming in his previous life

one scene that makes it so clear is that shot of marcus saying in ep 8, ‘still bulletproof’ - hawk’s expression was almost said ‘not really’

so yeah there was definitely fear bc he could see and probably knew his life was changing and one thing that we’ve seen throughout the series is that hawk isnt the best at change. i think it scares him bc it’s something he cant control and its unpredictable. and a man like him who has so much to hide, unpredictability in his life is something he probably tries to avoid at all times

i do think that the reason why he didnt say i love you to tim at the gala is bc he wasnt ready - he had just kissed a man in public for the first time, and not just any man - it was the man he loved. but embracing that part of yourself isn’t something that happens at the click of your fingers - it takes time and unfortunately in hawk and tim’s case, it was too late

i think it still ate at him later on - the fact that he didnt tell tim he loved him - the feeling that tim didnt know hawk loved him must have plagued him to no end. but he must have felt all of this not necessarily immediately after leaving the gala, but probably at a time when he was ready to acknowledge the truth himself

and I think thats the real tragedy of hawk, that he has to continue living a truthful life in whatever capacity (and not necessarily as boldly as tim/frankie/marcus do and thats okay) but without tim beside him - kinda similar to how tim did without hawk

[tadpole-apocalypse]

Morgan Lore Time! Under a cut because it got long.

Part 1 | Part 2

Morgan only knew Elven for most of her life; an obscure Feywild dialect that gives her an accent which immediately marks her as outsider to other Baldurians. This was deliberate. Her cult leader didn’t want his followers to be able to communicate with outside humans if they happened to encounter others somehow.

She still speaks with an accent and sometimes slips into elven when flustered or swearing. I don’t know what Elven sounds like in forgotten realms, so I’m not sure what to compare her accent to.

Learning Common and Chondathan took time and for a little bit, the only people she could communicate with were elves or other races that spoke the language.

At 16, Morgan was a newcomer to both human and faerun culture. Her wild magic, recently unleashed, was still volatile. She got kicked out of multiple temples she attempted to receive charity from because of unlucky and dangerous surges. (Maybe one is the temples has a hole in the wall now….the place was falling apart anyway)

She ends up at a brothel, eager to get paid for sex as a repressed teenager dealing with hypersexuality, but to their credit they see a child who barely speaks Common and hire her as a maid instead. She gets adopted by the elven sex workers who become her first friends and help her with her language skills (as well as keeping unsavory patrons away from her).

About a year later, she decides to learn more about controlling her magic better; at this point she’s never cast a spell deliberately, only had them randomly manifest from her wild magic. She takes the little bit of money she earned cleaning rooms and went to Sorcerous Sundries to see if she could find an instructor.

This is where she meets Lorroakan. But he didn’t go by Lorroakan at this time; and he wasn’t the owner of Sorcerous Sundries yet. She found him standing outside hawking potions (snake oil) under the name Alvan. He sees an easily manipulated attractive girl and talks her into hiring him to teach her magic.

(This is all entirely my own head canon in regards to Lorroakan, as in my story he is a fraud who stole a prestigious wizard’s name and title and conned his way into the tower. Also he seems like a creep that would date teenagers as an adult.)

She doesn’t have much money, so he extracts payment in sex. Which is all well and good to her at the time, but she is too young and naive to understand the giant red flag this man is and that he has zero respect for her. She takes him at his word that he’s a powerful wizard.

But Morgan isn’t stupid, and realizes eventually he’s not as powerful as he said he was, and really hadn’t been teaching her anything useful at all. He always seemed to be wheeling and dealing with shady people and took advantage of her willingness to explore her sexuality. While out in the markets together, one of the older merchant women hands her a Detect Thoughts scroll free of charge and tells her to watch out for that man.

Next part - His Mind is a Bad Place

[leofrith]

tagged by: @reiverreturns 🥰

rules: summarize your WIPs badly and let people vote on what they’d most like to read

i'll reblog with a snippet of whichever WIP wins (or you could also just ask me because i have no self control when it comes to sharing 💀)

tagging @aeide @artschoolglasses @findusinaweek @beroyas @orphiceonian and anyone else who might want to do the thing :)

[masterwords]

Yo! I love reading these, you’re putting in the MOST.

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? (You know I’m eagerly still awaiting that nightmare fic, so I’ll have this as an appetizer)

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts !!

Heyyy, I'm happy to put the hotchgan vibes out there! A lot of my regulars have moved on to other fandoms or are taking much needed breaks from these spaces so it's feeling very lonely out here. I need the hotchgan like I need air. lol Thank you for indulging me! And always being there to shove me into a fun story!

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’?

Man, I could really see it going both ways but god...just imagine it's Hotch. They haven't said I love you yet. There are plenty of things he does that just piss Derek off (and rightly so)...things that they're ready to go to blows over, even. And Hotch makes a decision that Derek doesn't like and finally, in a moment of pure desperation, Derek just says "WHY?!" and Hotch without even thinking says "Because I love you" and that's it. There's no more argument. Because what can Derek say to that? Mr. Repressed just verbal vomited in the sweetest most pathetic way.

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

Okay. That fic needs to happen ASAP. I'll work on it tonight with a glass of wine and see if I can make it happen. I really love it, but my writing has been trash lately. BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT IT. Derek is hands on, he's going to try and soothe Hotch. He's going to hold him or run his hands through his hair, he's going to be physical as long as Hotch wants it. (And he does. I think we've established that this man is touch-starved.) Hotch on the other hand, he's more of an acts of service kind of guy. He's going to ask Derek if he wants to talk about it, he's going to get him a glass of water or a snack or ask if he wants to talk. I don't want to get too much more into detail because I'll dip into the story I'm writing for you. I will say, the direction I took is unexpected I think...which is why I'm struggling. I can't just fall into my usual comfort zone. And that's a good thing but harder to write when words are a challenge.

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Ohhhh...I love vices. LOVE THEM. First of all, they're both so similar so one thing I think they both do is try to be in control at first. I can see Derek thinking he's helping, Hotch has to be in control at work so much that he feels like he's helping if he plans the date night or takes charge of weekend plans. And it isn't that Hotch minds that, he's totally fine with it, but if they both think the same thing? If they both try to plan the weekend without talking to the other? Things can get a little hairy. Lots of mixed up plans, rescheduling, apologies after hotly debated pros and cons for each plan and a big calendar posted on the freezer to help keep them on the same page.

Now, as far as different vices - I think Hotch is an over planner and Derek is very spontaneous, which can cause some friction. Vacations especially could be problematic. At home, I think that Hotch is a little messy and Derek is a bit of a neat freak (though their cars may tell a different story). Hotch is reserved and doesn't speak up when he's sick or hurt or might need to talk, which drives Derek insane. Hotch will suffer in silence until his insomnia kicks in, until he's awake all night, until Derek notices that he hasn't come to bed. "Do you need to talk?" he'll ask when he smells the coffee at 4am. Meanwhile, Derek takes his frustrations out on household projects instead of talking, so Hotch has to find out that Derek is struggling by coming home to the kitchen sink being ripped apart because of an irritating little drip. "Did you have a bad day?" Hotch asks as Derek rips the p-trap out from under the sink...the p-trap that has nothing to do with the little washer that needed replacing in the faucet to stop the drip...because he's moved on to a clog or something else now.

Communication is not a strong suit for either of them, which is a hilarious thing to say about a couple of FBI Agents with law degrees. LOL At work they're masterful, but with one another? Well...it's a learning curve. But the kissing is good and everything else can take its time, they have their whole lives to figure it out.

want me to talk about hotchgan? i will...at length...and hey, if you don't vibe with those questions, ask some of your own. i'll talk about them all day.

[dreamsofminnie]

“500 years... And not once did I forget you.”

{Dainsleif x Reader} Part 1

Part 2 <(Link will be open once its posted)

Summary-> These centuries, these years apart. Khaenri’ah was cold but your heart felt much colder. The forgivable sin Dainsleif left had left imprinted deeply into your flesh. Then why do you feel this overbearing longing for his pressence once again? Years of therapy, self-reflection, and vividly horrid night terrors; couldn’t stop this ache when you lay eyes upon him once more.

Notes-> This took several months to write and plan </3 Originally for my bestie for her birthday but I thinks it’s too well written to not share. I hope you like this lighthearted, horror+mystery, a lil comfort, then hurt & angst—in that order <3 @wraitingyou

Tags-> DainsleifxReader, Angst, Slow burn, We die in vain, mystery, genocide, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Reader is from Khaenri’ah, Khaenri’ah lore, reader is from Khaenri’ah, repressed memory, the cataclysm | fall of Khaenri’ah, pre-cataclysm Khaenri’ah, mutual pining, childhood friends, hurt no comfort, pain and suffering, angst and humour, slight gore, horror, body horror, decimation, the abyss, abyss order, reader is not traveler, betrayal, Rhinedottir, mentions of alternate universe, comfort, pining, fluff to angst, implied/referenced character death, genshin plot, Royal guard Dainsleif, reader was a royal guard, nostalgia, suffering, harsh language, heartbreak, no love, delusional dreams real, memory lost, regaining memories

Word Count-> 5.6k

✨

“See you later! Have a safe trip, except for you Wanderer. I hope you trip on your way out and get buried under.” Running farther away from your friend and the pest, you had really prayed for your dear friend’s safety with that gremlin of a puppet.

The inn you all were staying at was starting to get less packed with the huge rainstorm passing. Sumeru surely was a rainforest of region, much more comforting out of all the places you have traveled so far.

Faint drips of rain plopped onto the windows. Soothing yet setting for a melancholy atmosphere. Not that it’s needed, you don’t ever get sappy for anything.

“Therapy session for this month check. Controlled anger issues check. Resistance in making crude jokes.. hnn, check i guess.” I should be good for another few months…”

“I must prepare to leave early tomorrow morning.” Diving into bed is the best parts of the day. No need to waste energy on minuscule thoughts.

Except, innsomnia is a tired person's worst literal nightmare.

“Agh, the kitchen would be closed at this time of the night. Snacks are a nope. Fresh air then, stars are always mesmerizing, maybe they can hypnotize me to sleep.” Irritation laced your words, not thinking much of them.

Curse the devil for allowing innsomnia.

Slipping into a coat you walk out your room and onto the large public balcony.

The inn you were staying at was in the main Sumeru city. Twisted into the tree trunk, the rooms carved into the tree while the balcony stuck out with marble flooring. The usual white spiral ramps gave the inn exits either going up or down.

Though to you, Sumeru is one of the nicest places to enjoy scenery. Aesthetic in all ways. The stars this night didn't fall flat of this statement.

Truly

Something to admire

Or

Something forgotten

Leaning on the balcony railings the gentle breeze took some leaves for flight and your eyes followed suit.

Till they landed on a silhouette standing ten feet away looking in the opposite direction. His back was broad and he stood tall. His hair paled much more in the moonlight and clothes rustled with each growing breeze. The breeze acted like it was setting a mood as it grew a bit harsher.

A twinge in your nerves caused you to walk towards him.

Strange emotion pileing up for this unknown man.

Then it dropped.

You couldn’t believe you thought that was someone who would stir such emotions. Your head thought it was a person your heart has longed for. But a person you have no idea of. Who? Who did you think it was?

Thinking now, the breeze wouldn’t be able to set a mood even if someone were to sober it. Not that there needs to be mood setting.

“Don’t you have a home and a broke man to accommodate to.” Snarky remarks at 4am is exactly what a man needs to hear to crawl back home. Except it doen’t work on pricks.

“And what pleasantries do we have here.” He taunted and turned around his face cold as ever.

“I don’t understand your feeble scholar upgraded language. Shut the fuck up. My insomnia can’t handle pricks.” Alhaitham closed his thick study books and used it to tilt your chin up.

You were standing two steps apart. Well, one step for him since long legs and all.

“Tighnari has smelling herbs for insomnia. Did your puny brain not tell you of that prick either.” You huff and push his book straight back into his chest. “Unlike you. He is much more welcome in my bubble of friendship. Dried up cactuses don’t get a say in my life.”

Alhaitham tucks the book under his arms and turns towards the ramp going down. “Then I guess this dried up cactus will fuck off as you said.” He took five steps before slightly turning back at you.

“Insomnia herb. Get it tommorrow.”

Then he disappeared from view.

“What the fuck. He sounded like he ordered one for me already?! I’ll make sure he didn’t tomorrow morning. Hhuu. That exchange made me exhausted.” With groggy eyes you drag your feet back into the inn.

Upon entering your room once again, you hit the sack faster than you took off your bulky coat.

✨

“AAUUCK!! fak.” You bolted up. These Sumeru bed’s are truly something. Though there were sheets and blankets for comfort, the main part of the bed has grass and leaves atop the wooden base inside. They leave you pretty sore for people who have never slept on a hard surface like these.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“Time to get that medicine i guess. And check out of the Inn.”

“Archons bless you Tighnari. Lifesaverr, your the bestt!!” You placed all the stuff he gave you into your travel bag securely.

“No problem. Those should be able to last you for a month or more. Just as you don’t overdo your state.” He crossed his arms in a knowing stare.

You avoid his eyes, then recalled an annoying swirling voice in your head. “When did you prepare this for me..?”

“I really hope it’s not…-”

“He put in the order.”

“HOW THE FUCK! When did that bastard get the time to message you in that short time I talked to him yesterday night?! What is he watching my every move or something. creepy.”

“Creep sent a messenger bird late at night.” Your bewildered and irritated sigh battled your disgust to fight him right now. So you settled with another direction. Slapping a piece of paper on the floor you scribbled a rushed “thank you” letter.

“Please send this to Alhaitham the creep, as my condolences to his creepy ways.” You mocked his formal speech and handed Tighnari the piece of paper with a drawing.

“What the fuck.” Tighnari stared at the drawing in dumfoundedness and a slight tinge of amusement if this was sent.

“It counts as two things, see? One could represent a middle finger then the other…well, those two spherical structures are the things he doesn't have. He doesn't have those to fight me" (balls to fight me)

“I wish I could see his reaction to this then. I guess I’ll send it to him for you.” You smiled to Tighnari in gratitude. You could always count on your sassy gay friend.

“But anyways, don’t you have to get going, it’s reaching noon soon.” Tighnari looked in the sky and back towards you.

“Ah! Of course of course… Hiking is the most terrible sport…can’t believe people do this for fun.”

Tighnari crosses his arms and moved along with his wight shift, deadpanned. “I do that for a job. Get used to it, hiker.” Pointed his thumb towards the hills.

“Sheesh. Well then I’m heading off. Thank you for the weed, bye bye.”

You could hear a loud bewildered huff merged with a laugh, while you ran off.

✨

By the time you reached the edge of Fontaine the sky grew dark. Good thing Tighnari suggested you take one of his makeshift tents. Inns won't be available on the outskirts of the city so it will take a while to hike further.

Light rain hit the tent in pitter patters. Soothing.

You take the paper package of the medicinal herbs out. “Ah. How did he tell me to make this again? Where’s the ball.” Rummaging through your bag you took out an incense ball. A similar one to what Tighnari has but yours was darker in tone and in dull blue and black.

You hung the ball from a short wire off the ground. Opened the top and sprinkled in half a handful of the herb. It closed shut and you shook it around a few times. A bit of water from your bottle was tossed in this concoction. The incense ball’s scent soon filled the tent.

“So fast and effective..” A yawn already erupted from your mouth.

Droplets of rain. Therapeutic.

✨

The tent folded back and incense packed you headed off once again.

To the heart of Fontaine.

You really were getting tired of inns. The amount of money you have was starting to lack. You pondered if you should just take some simple requests from small villages along the way. You gain money, and they gain help.

You nodded to yourself and paraded to nearby villages.

You followed a pathway toward the houses keeping your eyes aware of anyone that seemed in need of help.

A man standing a few feet away seemed distressed while he paced back and forth anxiously.

Your curiosity peeked as you came closer. “Hello sir. Are you okay? You seemed terribly stressed” You heard that Fontaine was a place of formalities so speaking the part was no problem.

The man hurriedly looked up expectantly. “Are you perhaps a mercenary?! You’ve got to help! Oh, it’s a hell of a mess!! He’s-he might die. Surely will pass away! Theft, murder, moronic fool!!”

You lower his arms from flailing around in erratic movements in his panicked stupor. “Uh. I’m not quite catching up sir..” You would have thought it would take much more just to get a request.

The middle-aged man gulped in large breaths to smooth his emotional turmoil.

“My cousin, Guillaume, has been recently been in debt as a treasure horder. He is quite skilled but truly reckless. He fought a bunch of Abyss mages that seemed to be in a middle of a ritual... Treasure of course was engraved in his skull. So when he picked up a heavy object from the scene, it made him crazed. He became hostile to every person who comes near him. Injured many. Not only that, but the occurrence enraged the abyss and he is getting hunted by the Fontaine police as well as the Abyss. From that, he started kidnapping people into his hideout and they too become crazed… I know I should trust the officials but.. their pride is too high to even adknowledge my input.”

He wasn't fidgety anymore and remained calm. This series of events seemed bothersome to you now. Too much work for you who just wanted some quick task. Intriguing of course, but eh.

“As well as the fact that the Fontaine officials were here moments ago and left as quickly. I was merely aggravated when a gentleman came by to ask questions about this incident. He hurried when I gave all my information on the location. I worry for the gentleman. I can’t help to stress. As well as…I know that Guillaume is deeply in dispair. He has this small window where he is sane and…He sent me a few letters..”

You took some time to ponder all the information. The abyss is after the man who stole something, the thing has changed him and everyone around it. They seem like they became, monstrous—ugh!

Your hand was deeply clenched at your scalp head throbbing so loudly and throat dry.

“Dear me! Are you alright!! Apologizes to the hefty load!” He hurriedly sat you down on a short stone fence and fetched water from the well a few feet away.

The sounds of splashing water seemed much more distant than 5 feet away.

‘It's so dizzy..’

Red fizzled and flashed in your head. Red flags that encouraged you forward. A terrible way to go but who knows. Maybe, just maybe, solving this can make those nightmares that lead to your insomnia go away. Bloodshed. The cause of why you see bloodshed in these nightmares has always bothered you so bad.

“…iel, Iel! Hello?! Are you well?! Drink drink, water” You release your tight hold on your head to take the large cup. The water was cool and slide down as a semblance of relief. The reflection mirrored your pained expression, your frowned. It was not a good look for you. But cracking jokes at this time, wasen’t wise.

“..thank you for the water. I don’t know what happened just now. But. I will help with this, for the gentleman and for your cousin. If he still can be helped…” The man relaxed at your conscious state and nodded.

“I will provide you more details.”

✨

Rest was not an option in this tight knit issue. Anything could formulate in the span of a whole minute. And your dread never faded the whole time you thought about this.

Let’s see, the man said Guillaume would take the villagers at midnight when the stars are high up. In the daytime, he isn’t crazed and sits in solitude in despair. He is responsible for dozens of people he has dragged.

You feel sickened. The letters you got to read by Guillaume were heart-wrenching and explicit. However, it could only be judged on the rule of the scene.

Some crucial details in the letters were his descriptions.

“The crystal shines so luminescently venomous.

It burns as well as attracts……

I can’t take it.

Please please. Hel 𝓹

Your leetrs that say you will save me from this hell is false!

The feel of gasoline ignites my fingers to my core.

Though I feel it welcome me……

The ghastly scars leave residue atop my skin. Horrific.

Black.

All ash

My vision has been narrowly obscured.

How I am able to pick up a pen is beyond my imagination.

Is my brain really intact?

Hah.

I think someone is comi. g into the room. Annoyance……

I think— I shut up their cries……

Do I-know them?

Haha…she is trying to plead with me……

She remi nd.s me of m. y wife..

FUCK. WHA T HAVE I DO Ne. SHE- *incomprehensible scribbles and a slight dried dampness*

The human has given in to the crystal how astounding……

Haha. Her screams have filled the room……

The stars are approaching. It will be time again…….

How thrilling……

A feast is due……

Ps. [___] power lets us fly too. Did you really think I used a carrier pigeon…….

Stars stay alight in farewell…….delight……”

The letter gave you the shivers. This was the third one that was sent. And out of all the three letters, this contained the most insanity inducing mentality. You highly doubt Guillaume will live a normal life after this concludes. Poor guy. Debt changes a person.

On the contrary, this bloodbath piques my interest. It’s not every day you get to investigate manslaughter. You feel like detective Heizou. No wonder he likes to run off towards danger.

Information about the gentleman assisting was only brief since I was to hurry to the site before the next day. “He was tall and built more alike a soldier. He also wore blue and black clothing. He never gave me his name…” Your thoughts had fiddled when he had told you, but a numbing pain seized your brain functions into hyper-focus.

You rub your temples, eyes focused on the route he marked on your map. Leg day has really been your everyday. Super exhausting.

Blood and skin drew icy cold as your breath hitched. This torturous feeling washed across your body so suddenly. Dread paling your face, a strangled cry caused a sharp inhale of breath, hands clawing at your neck and chin to get your throat muscles working. Despair induced your veins as burning heat crawled through those blood passages. A howling scream intensified something inside you. Something triggered your reaction, was it from in the cave? Ah...thinking was much too difficult in this sizure. Airways in the throat barely letting a breath passby, your face purples and twists. Water pools your eyes in distraught and pain. Glued to your spot, the ominous descending cave gurgled back shouts and thumps. Muttered curses escape as you try and hold your ground. Saliva formed in the clogged airways and raining down by your feet. This all felt like you were strangled, punched, and overall scoured all over, in charcoal.

If you had regretted anything in your sad life, it was this. Taking this commission. Talking to the distressed man. Stranger danger real. Regret for ever stopping by that village…and the regrets have only started.

The next thing you saw was pitch black.

************************

The weather these past few days has been horrid. Snow storm after the other piled the streets with 1 foot of snow. The roads and streets are accessible to your relief. How else would you be able to see your sweet boyfriend.

The chime of a café door rang as you entered hurriedly from the biting winds outdoors. You cupped your hands together and attempted to heat them up with your breath. The shop was quiet besides the old love songs and occasional emo rock songs playing from the speakers. Owl city was one of his most liked songs.

You perched on the counter ringing the small bell near the card scanner.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding—

“Okay. Okay, I hear every one of your calls Y/n.” He came out from the break room and leaned in from across the counter where you sat.

You smiled at Dainsleif. “How are you Dain! Was shoveling the snow all by your lonesome hard this morning?~”

He huffed. “It was fine. But next time you're accompanying me.” He grabbed your waist and dragged you over to the worker's side of the counter, swinging your legs around as well so you're still sitting.

“It’s still midday so let me make you a cup of something warm.”

You watch him, your elbow on your knee and chin in your palm. Dainsleif manages this café and is the best drink maker there is. He unintentionally shows off some skills when making them, that’s why many girls come here for the show. Not that he pays attention to.

“Kaeya has told me to indulge you in more romantic lines. Would you like to be humored?” Dainsleif brought the mixing bottle up to the side of his head and shook it thoroughly as a bartender would, while glancing up at you.

When he does that every time it makes you swoon on the inside just a little.

“Kaeya is a terrible influence. Which makes life more bearable.” You shoot Dain a small finger heart in which he stops for a while in confusion but recovers a few seconds after.

“What does it feel like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?” Dainsleif plops toppings into the drink, adding more of your favorite ones.

“Bleh, I’m the ONLY person in this whole building, try again.” You kick your legs a bit, secretly enjoying these terribly cheesy pickup lines he always stores for you.

“Hm. If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” He achieved a faint breathy laugh from you, you argued that it was just because it was so so old and overused.

He snapped the lid onto the steaming cup and walked back to you handing it over.

He hesitated on his next line as you blew on the liquid through the hole and took a nice warm sip. It melted your insides in warmth.

So did the pickup line.

“Just wondering if your lips taste as good as they look.” Dainsleif’s eyes were awkwardly averted, wondering how you would react.

But you sat there, mouth agape, ears flushed from the pickup line. “Didn’t expect that one.” You mumbled into the cup, eyes unfocused staring at your favorite toppings floating to the top.

Dain carefully placed both hands on either side of your body on the counter, his body subtly leans in. “...it wasn’t answered.”

Your eyes tilt up from the drink sitting on your lips. “It wasn’t a question.”

Your rebuttal made Dain purse his lip, which you intensely stared at. “Then….may I kiss you?”

Your inner thoughts were racing, the reflex of wanting to push him away was itching, but the thought of a kiss sent you into a spiral. It’s not like you haven't kissed before, you have…a rare few times.

“Aha ha, ah uhm. Get out of that ugly sweater first then we’ll talk.” You jab one finger into his chest only pushing him away by a few inches.

Both of you are terrible at this romance thing that's why it's so awkward to initiate. You back out of close contact, and only stick to flirting, and he spews pickup lines he learns from Kaeya because he’s confused about love but also respects your boundaries. All your friends suffer seeing this awkward couple at group gatherings.

“What’s wrong with my sweater?” He pulls the sweater and looks down. He wore a black shirt and over that was a black-green-brown button-up sweater, adorned with pictures of owls, bears, acorns, trees, and bushes. Very nature-y for your star-loving boyfriend. But honestly, it looked like it was made for a grandpa on a chilly evening stroll.

“The nature documentary show would like its background back.” You wheeze at Dain’s blank-faced reaction, so done with you, but he’s never over you.

Dain gently sneaked a kiss on your cheek to satisfy himself with your stunned silence cutting off any jokes lining up your defense.

He backed away from the counter and took his jacket off a hook ready to depart with you. “Our friends are waiting. Let’s head out now, I bet they are frozen solid outside since I was supposed to supply the hot drinks.”

That caused you to snap back as you cackled at Hutao, Heizou, Tighnari, and the rest, chilled to the bone buried in the deep snow. You latch onto Dainsleif’s sleeve slipping your hand into his warm pocket and holding his curled-up thumb and pointer finger. “Let’s go wifey! Onwards to the ice sculptures!!”

*********************

The darkness had enraptured you at every turn, you didn’t know if you were sitting down, laying down or even face down digging into the dark ground. Your senses were so hazed and really failed you more than normal today.

“I always knew this is what hell was like. Dark cold and numbing on my ass.” Your voice was meek and raspy but they held the same sharp tongue you brought.

A breath hitched when you spoke. So you weren’t alone, in relief your body sunk from its tension. “This place would most likely be a hell. But it's all been cleaned up now..” The voice gave you a tingling feel, almost familiar if not for your impaired and dazed hearing.

“Whoes,” Your words have slurred with the throbbing of your head, a light pressure stroking it, not sure if it was your hand or the other persons. “I didn’t want you to see this mess. Also because that thing on your head is a protection of sorts.” Your mind was too out of it to immediately process his information.

“Was I drugged and potato sacked. I still can’t feel my ass.” The voice had an airy chuckle which echoed through the space. It must be a cave, orrr the internal abyss of the hell he called.

“Well that’s because you fell on a large sharp rock when I first saw you near the cave entrance.” Ah. made sense. “Once your senses are back and you start wiggling around, will I free you.” That made you suspect you were tied down somewhere. You just hoped it was spacious and clean enough so you could indeed roll around.

A sound of shuffled occured after a while and the footsteps faded, assuming that the person beside you had left the area. Once he came back it would be war against his, oddly pretty voiced most likely pretty man. How dare he potato sack you.

Fingers twitching to life, you didn’t know how many hours were spent on body recovery. The crackles of your bones that were stiff the entire night bounced off the walls. You could now feel that your body was in fact laying down, fabric carpeting under you.

Footfalls came steadily back in your direction. “I knew you’d come back to me mysterious man” The tugging of the fabric around your head lead to pangs of sensory recovery. You hear much more sensitively after being blocked for so long. The fabric finally coming around to uncover your eyes. Vision still impaired as the lights and darkness desperately tried to balance out. The haze in your eyes remains an issue even when the smell of the fabric was soothing.

A blur of a hand reached out to you, which you took graciously, limp as they were. You were hauled up to him as he held you close to steady your shaky body. “Get used to walking afte your hours of stationary. Then we will scour the rest of the cave.” his voice sent a chill covering your spine, it was very nice...

Head limp on his chest you could see his black and blue fitted outfit. Even knowing you were short, his shoulder was still higher than your whole height. Plus the glimpse of a sword by their belt drew you to a hazy conclusion. He was the gentleman you were looking for.

However, a sense of dread and conflicting longing rang off in your ears from never ever wanting to look up into his face. So you followed just that.

Your head stayed pressed against his chest as you figured out how to move the limbs helplessly called legs. Every time your legs wobbled too much, he would grab onto your waist to steady you. And every time you clutch onto his shirt too tightly in nerves rattling, he would pat your shoulder and let you put your feet on his so he could walk for you. An hour has passed and you got the hang of your body, with a little shake you managed to walk from one wall to the other.

“Pardon me for asking but, why am I so disabled like this in the first place?” Your voice was quiet but steady, unlike the time you talked when just waking up to potential hell.

“And in all fairness, you could’ve left me to disintegrate and die. Would’ve been better instead of nursing me.” You forcefully mumbled that out in a murmur. And you really didn’t have to look up at the man’s face to feel the intensity of a sharp glare for a reason unknown.

He was pacing in large circles and looking down to watch your feet, the man now stood at the doorway. “It was close to the time of midnight. The smell radiating off the cave entrance bewitched you and agitated you. It closed off your nerves. I had prepared something beforehand to help elevate this phenomenon, which was the fabric I wrapped around you, acting as a cocoon. I then brought you inside, took care of the dangers lurking, and.....secured the premise.” He failed to mask his hesitation on hidden information, due to what he knows about this situation than you do. You slowly nodded as you stare at his shoes, intimidatingly facing your lowered head.

“This cave is enormously large. Would you like to venture through the tunnels. If your legs are up for it. I won’t leave your side, case you fall and never get back up.” His words couldn’t help but put a sting in your heart while chasing it faster. And you who inadvertently let his attempted joke pass your head.

You nodded again which you could only do with a swift tilt up to not disclose your obvious concealment of his prominent features.

The gentleman luckily leads you, tailing behind letting you clutch a corner of his cloak. It gave you more leverage to see more since he covered his own face from you since he’s tall.

As you both moved around the dirt-painted halls, the tunneling seemed handmade instead of natural. Claw marks etched into the surfaces, the ones on the wall grow even deeper and bigger the more your trembling legs take you down the hall. Some openings that led to other rooms littered the narrow tunnels, they were all empty and vacant. The only signs of life once in the rooms were the many elemental traces and or scratches from either weapons or nails. A dark murkiness painted the walls and floor—not wanting to ever know what it really is—but the stench that followed was hazy and metallic. The winding tunnels seemed endless. No wonder people came to be insane down here.

As your thoughts subsided, so did the unending tunnel.

A much broader room greeted you ahead. It must have been Guillaume’s place of residence. Half the room was bookshelves, scrawled-up papers, and scrunched-up scrolls, a large desk faced the other side, ink spilled from the table to the opposing wall. The vacant space looked more than inhabited, save for the etchings on every inch of the wall, ceiling, and floor surfaces. Many drew blanks, symbols, and incomprehensible languages. Stars were the most repeated shape. You didn’t know when you had let go of the man’s cloak, since you were too drawn to the walls of Guillaume’s self-asylum.

Your digits brushed some of the symbols, they curved neatly and were well-written. And familiar. One symbol you could read was—Cataclysm.

The jolt of electricity from touching those words provoked you to snap your neck to…

The man who stood in the same spot you left him before you let go to touch the writing on the wall. Him who watched you mindlessly draw your finger against the carved wall trying to work your brain. Him who—walking through the hallway—peered behind a you who refused to meet his height, gauging your reactions. Him who, had to do a double take when he first saw you on the outskirts of the cave. Him whose...heart clenched in anguish.

Dainsleif who,

missed you dearly.

Who always speculated if you were alive or not.

. . .

Traveling to Fontaine was genuinely; the WORST choice you could have ever done.

“Fuck.”

.

.

.

You really didn’t want to do this ontop of every other terrible occurrence this night. Your brain couldn't, hence the deep crease in your brow following your pained expression too well. All your senses weakened from your mentally solely. You knew him. You recognize him. You liked him.

.

No. You hate him.

Many years of your continuous mental and physical health checkups, insomnia plaguing your attempted sleep, unresolved hatred. All to shield yourself against this man. To conceal the centuries with him.

Now all in vain. Crumbling beneath your feet at this very dreaded moment. The way your vision blurs, the shakiness in your foothold, your clammy hands, throat strained, all in response to a simple unimaginable presence.

The one presence your heart missed dearly. But your brain, your legs, told you to run. To a remote place. But he blocked that path. As he did before, once again stuck in this in-between.

One step. Another. Yours back, his foward.

A predicament you had placed yourself in. The wall that soothed your back has never felt as cold as it did now. How you would rather it envelop you into those eerie symbols. Engraving you to the mystery of the universe.

He was one step away now. Galaxy eyes bore into your evading ones. “(Name)…”

You refused his beckoning. But that wouldn’t make him leave. It wouldn’t get him to disappear from your existence. It only hurts more now that you know he is alive and healthy.

“......If we’re done here, then I have things to do somewhere else.” You burned your eyes anywhere else but near him. He couldn’t escape the slight view you had of him at the corners of your sight. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out to you, to find that once solace you gave him.

“Avoiding me won’t get you anywhere. I thought you weren’t one for not returning favors. I saved your life. Don’t you owe me something?” You scoff. It repulsed you on how observant he is of you.

“I had a dream with you in it. It was in a different world where we were….Happy together. I wish I was in that world currently instead of this shit.” The words you spewed were venomous, if not for the slightly fond tone you laced into the poison. Dainsleif’s face contorted, he was now glad you refused his eye contact, for his eyes downturned in remorse.

Remorse; that's all he ever felt towards you for many centuries when you were apart. And the times when remorse wasn't present, he was deeply coated in affection for you. Those, however, were in the early childhood days. Too far gone in the past.

“I’m sorry I can’t live up to those expectations,”

“But now you have to repay me. …And forgive me.” His firm but gentle hold on your chin forced eye contact. His blue eyes shone with the diamond in them; just like how your eyes sparked with that diamond. His words however gave you the will to slap his hand away.

“You think apologies will reconnect us? After all those fucking centuries? Those actions were effectuated by you!! You festered this effect upon me! How could I ever, ever!! forgive your inapt causes?! You’re VILE!” You ended up hitting his chest and shoving him away which sent him 6 feet apart. He took every physical contact from you, the sting was apparent and long-lasting.

Your unquenched fury bubbled to the brim. And you now approached the silent man. Your hand was now tight against his collar, the obvious trembling of his, dismantled your voice in cracks. “What was the reason?! You should’ve kept me in that sword. After you fucking decimated everyone with me. Why the fuck would I ever want to live after all that. Everything and everybody was a mess. You the most.” The intensity of your diamond-shaped eyes never faltered.

You stepped back as the grip on his collar loosened. “Khaenri’ah’s downfall… Couldn’t even be saved by any form of guard..” Your mumble cast your gaze away from his unnerving eyes.

Silence blanketed the room, no thoughts were presented or conjured. You both just allowed the atmosphere to sink in, head empty beside the presence that would have normally set your heart racing. Not this time; nor ever.

“It’s past midnight right? I’ll take a nearby room to rest in.” You didn’t require his answer, so you left just as quickly. Leaving behind the downcasted remorse filled Dainsleif stiff in his spot where you left him.

*********************

Author notes-> Reshare’s and likes appreciated <3 I hope it was heart wrenching—so i can collect tears to my jar >:D

[geometricalien]

Between Akashi & Furihata, if one of them died, who do you think is more likely to heal from the pain of loss sooner & moves on with his life?

When has Akashi Seijuurou gotten over anything in his fucking life? This rhetorical jest is an oversimplification of one of Akashi's character flaws which is his need for control. This is all to say, simply based on that, Furihata is the more emotionally intelligent of the two, the one more open and accepting to change. I think they both would require years to fully heal but I think Furihata would be the one to move on sooner.

I've tried to keep it short and direct above for those without brainrot but I AM going to go apeshit below the cut

Oh my god oh my god oh my GOD I'm so glad someone wants to hear me talk about THIS, THIS EXACT CONCEPT- ACCEPTING THE LOVE OF THEIR LIVES DEATH FASCINATES ME ENDLESSLY FUCK

Okay for reference there has been 2 fanfics involving this concept that I read when I first got into akafuri and they have HEAVILY influenced my perception of this question:

- The Truth About Reality; which is literally about Furihata not accepting Akashi's death and through mysticism goes to 4/5 different parallel realities to get him back. It's a favorite of mine and I read it once a year. It has themes of sacrifice and second chances which make it so crucial to the thematic elements of akafuri. Read it please

- Through the Air by Maiokoe; I love the first chapter, literally Kuroko Kagami Takao and Midorima come to Akashi while he is at work and inform him that Furihata's flight just crashed. It is so so so good. The way it plays out, Akashi's mounting fear, his resistance, the way his fear turns to anger then to despair- sometimes I cry when I reread it. And the last lines of the chapter---

What was a world without his lover? What was this life without his easy nature and smiles? What was this life without his affection? What was this world without Furihata Kouki? What did this world mean to him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What was Akashi Seijuuro without him? He didn’t want to find out.

Those lines have colored my opinion of what Akashi would be like if his husband died so fucking much that it really was eventual that I started my Greek fic where Akashi is Achilles and Furihata is Patroclus. So if you know the Iliad then you know how my fic will play out and exactly where I take a stance on Akashi’s terrible all consuming love.

To talk about the dissolution of happily in love akafuri by the cruel hands of death is to examine how their relationship evolved them and what being torn from their other half would do to them. To be haunted by their after image, to look at their favorite mug, to wear their favorite sweater- who would wear grief better. Who would welcome it, accept its presence. Who would repress it.

Please do not mistake what I'm saying to mean Furihata would move on quickly. Where Furihata is Akashi's light, Akashi is his gravity. He would be adrift and untethered without Akashi. The world would turn upside down. He would feel the expanse of their house, the emptiness of their bed. Furihata would be lost. It would take years to come down back to earth by himself.

Furihata would eventually move out of that house/apartment too full of memories, at the prodding of well meaning friends he would download dating apps, eventually he would go on dates and try his best to not compare them to his late husband because how could a man compare to a god. And then years and years down the line, when his heart only half aches when he sees a hair of red, when he only wears that old ratty sweater on the occasion bad day, he can look up into the sky and smile, thankful for the memories. I think he could even fall in love again, begin a new chapter.

A large chunk of Furihata is lost the day Akashi dies but he grows around the pain and walks on. Accepting the scars, accepting the love and pain, accepting it all.

As I said though, Furihata is Akashi's light. His metric on good and bad. The saving grace that redeemed him and inspired him to become worthy of such love.

Imagine if the sun was stolen from the sky and we were pitched into utter darkness. Until our eyes adjust and we can make out some shapes, you are surrounded in black black. Complete emptiness. Alone more than ever before and for a moment you think it will consume you. That is how Akashi feels for the first year until his eyes adjust to the darkness. He would continue in this shadow life indefinitely, watching everyone else patch themselves together and move on, while he.is.stuck. And he won't admit it and only those brave enough would say it to his face, but he is absolutely wallowing, sulking, in this darkness as self-punishment. that in some twisted sense, this is what he deserves. he digs his feet in, refusing to move. And if out of the corner of his eye a flicker of light dances, he would refuse to follow it. The dark is where he belongs.

He would bury himself in work. He would refuse to move out of their house. Refusing to touch any of the things that Kouki last left them, his toothbrush bone dry in the holder, the book he was reading on his bedside table.

And when his friends compare him to his father- he becomes furious, alight with indignation. He is not cold and cruel like his father had been. "No... you're empty."

It would take him so so long to accept that Furihata would want him to be happy even if its not with him. That he deserves to be happy. Only then would he take tiny half steps out of the cave he buried himself in, the cave that he would have made his grave.

As a side note, I mentioned Furihata falling in love with someone else afterwards... my personal interpretation is that Akashi could not. He would try if only just because he knows Furihata wants him to be happy and knew that Akashi is the most happy when he is in love- but The Akashi heart is a fearsome terrible all consuming thing.

Akashi Seijuurou, is a man who celebrated the anniversary of each milestone of their relationship. Akashi Seijuurou, is a man who is head over heels in love and worships the ground his beloved walks on. Akashi Seijuurou, is a man who calls their partner love- because they are the manifestation of their love. Akashi Seijuurou, is a man who would go to the far corners of the world to see if there was some way to still communicate with their partner if said partner was turned into a worm and would build a terrarium of utmost luxury for said partner and talk to the worm as if it was them, take the worm to see the sun meet the ocean, because they have to hope that their partner still has some consciousness. And if not, then he needs to do that for himself. To fool himself. And once that worm passes, he would be extra compassionate to earthworms because they remind him of them.

The Akashi heart is a blessing to the receiver for there is nothing stronger or purer. The Akashi heart is a curse to the creator if only because they have that one single heart and they are physically unable to take it back.

[horseshoemybeloved]

wait i am really intrigued with your versions of the suitehearts i love the designs and seeing your take on them so please infodump about them to me about this obscure fob au that i’ve been insane about for years

It is now time for my long ass ( my version of the ) suitehearts masterpost * wiggles fingers *

Keep in mind!!!

So basically first things first, my versions of ‘em are Completely different characters. Some draw/view the suitehearts as fob in silly costumes ( which is super chill ) but my versions are very different. So when I say “ Benzedrine is a repressed gay wizard obsessed with abba“ I am in no ways implying that Patrick is a repressed gay wizard obsessed with abba. There are some similarities between people but it is never intentional. ( also I’m constantly changing stuff nothings set in stone lol )

Da world!

The world is kinda like a purgatory, everyone there has died but could move to another plane. Thusly there are people from all different decades. Magic is very common here, a lot of people can do small basic spells. But it takes years of practice to become a wizard, and decades to become a good one. There are 5 main,,, species? Races? I’m not quite sure how to label em. But we have:

your average human, nothing really of note here

elemental benders ( they are born with a cavity in their chest relating to what “ element “ they control. Some control water some Disco music! )

Pixies/sprites, they usually have abnormal colored skin, pointy ears, and the ability to float around. They naturally have good connection with spirits and can summon them when needed ( if they’re good at it )

Angels, they’re naturally fun colors, have magical hair, and vaguely cow like ears?. Angles can use their magic to make themselves look like normal humans tho. They usually live together and provide comfort for people. But there has been a rebellion happening and now a lot of angels try and live life not for the sole service of others but now for themselves ( is allegory 4 womanhood moment )

And then of course furries xoxo

Now the reason you even started reading this, info about the suitehearts!

Dr. benzedrine is vaguely narcissistic and full of himself, but in an oddly charming way. Personality wise hes a mixture of howl ( hmc ) without Any of the swauve, mostly just the dramatics, and aziraphale ( good omens ). Hes a middle aged man who Will Not admit hes gay, he is Incredibly repressed. He was apart of the huge royal academy of wizards, best one they’d ever had. But had a falling out with the leader in charge and now just has his own little wizard store. He befriended Donnie at a little diner because he made a reference to a Kate bush or Fiona apple song, or something or other. Him and sandman do Not get along, sandman often visits the store just to annoy him. But they have more similarities than they know, they just need to stop bitching at eachother!

( also he was born like 5’ something but the spirits in charge of transferring people to this plane were like “ I’d be mad funny if we made him really short he’d be so mad “ )

He is my autistic little meow meow 😔🙏

Horseshoe has a regal flowyness to him, semi-oblivious to his own charm, and loves to dance the night away. When everyone around him is disheveled and falling apart, he still manages to look fantastic. He appears to be the dumb blonde of the group, which he definitely doesn't mind and loves to indulged in the trope. ( he may not know where or even what Sweden is but at least hes pretty ) But he is a deeply creative person, and that in its own special way shows an intelligence. He works at a small local craft store ( bcus then he gets first dibs on all the cool new art supplies :D ) he is an angel, but chooses to focus his little magical power on constantly disguising himself cus he doesn’t wanna be bothered lol.

Donnie is very nurturing and kind, yet extremely energetic and bubbly, think kinda like,,, super sweet valleygirl. He’s slightly based off YouTuber Garret watts. He is very big solid guy. He has a bit of a problem with feeling like he Needs to take care of everyone, like it’s job ( he’s workin through it in therapy ) Like I mentioned there are people who are like elemental benders, Donnie is one of them. He has a little terrarium with either a mushroom or a daisy, and can make vines grow from his hands and legs. Donnie is also autistic ( heavily based on my experiences with it, he’s also just kinda heavily based off of me ) He's from da 60s, during the whole hippy thing.

Sandman is your typical bitchy mallgoth, who goes around calling everyone a " poser" and everything " poser shit " they put up a bitchy angry front but deep down theyre an insecure sensitive little guy. Sandman is a Pixie so that means they can summon these ( usless ) spirit guys ( they’re not very good at it ) shes also kinda Super into typical """ cringey """ stuff from 2015 ( ie undertale, fnaf, the lving tombstone, mlp ) Sandman is semi kinda not really it’s complicated openly non-binary, but still seems to repress quite a bit and just push away all deeper feelings. I thought it would be interesting to experiment with a character who is a trans femme gay guy, kinda like a reverse trans masc lesbian I guess. Idk lol don’t get mad at me

Anything else kiddo?

The format id choose to express this story would def be a movie. Uhhh… I can’t really think of much else right now, but feel free to ask questions I luv talking about em :3