#lazarus x reader

[dhazefawn]

MISSION LOG: TACTICAL HEARTS ╱ with AXEL GILBERTO & DOUGLAS HADINE ㄨ READER ꩜ .ᐟ

「 ✉️ 」・:三 Can I request a one shot for each guy where as a member of team Lazarus, Doug and Axel's reaction to you . . . getting hurt on a mission . . . after they told you to sit this one out?

⊹ 💬 · descriptions of injuries in this !n

directory ⋆˚꩜ rules !

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ DOUGLAS HADINE﹒→﹒

The mission had been tight. Clean. Predictable—just like he wanted it.

A cult cell operating out of a collapsed library on the edge of the district. Hersche had intel, and Douglas didn’t trust it, but the objective was clear: infiltration, extraction, minimal casualties.

What he hadn’t accounted for was you.

You weren’t on the list. Weren’t on the team needed for this mission. And yet, there you were—crouched behind what used to be a reading desk, bleeding through the sleeve of your tactical jacket, breath short but eyes defiant.

Douglas froze.

You looked up at him like it was nothing.

“Hi,” you panted, a painful smile on your face. “Surprise.”

His boots were silent against the floor as he crossed to you, eyes scanning the room for threats even as he dropped to one knee beside you. His fingers brushed your arm.

Warm blood.

Not fatal. But deep.

“You weren’t cleared,” he said tightly. “Who authorized you?”

You flinched—not from the pain. From his tone.

“No one. I followed the trace from last week. Hersche’s lead was garbage without that data and—”

“So you thought you’d just insert yourself into the plan?” he cut in. “Without telling me?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it again. His hands were steady as they applied pressure, but his jaw was locked, unreadable.

“Doug—”

“No,” he said, quieter now. “I don’t want excuses. I want to understand how the person I trust most managed to make the worst tactical decision I've seen all week.”

You looked away.

The silence cracked him.

He sighed, and for a second, the rigid posture fell away. He leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against yours.

“You’re not expendable,” he murmured. “You don’t get to throw yourself into danger just because you can. Not on my watch.”

“I just didn’t want to stay behind,” you whispered. “Not with a cult here. Not with you out here alone.”

Douglas closed his eyes.

“I’m not mad because you disobeyed. I’m mad because for a second, I thought I’d lost you. And I didn’t even know you were here.”

A pause.

“Trust goes both ways, Love.”

And you nodded, quietly—because beneath the precision and planning, Douglas Hadine didn’t just love you. He depended on you. And losing you wasn’t a variable he ever wanted to face.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ AXEL GILBERTO﹒→﹒

The bullets had barely stopped flying when Axel saw you stumble out from the side hall.

He wasn’t sure if it was the blood, or the stupid grin on your face that made his heart drop harder.

“What the hell—”

He was at your side in seconds, hands grabbing your arms, your waist, checking for wounds he didn’t have time to think about.

“You said you were staying behind! You promised me, Sweetheart!”

“There was a break in the trail,” you said breathlessly. “I followed it. I thought I could flank them—”

“Flank them?!” His voice cracked. “This isn’t a goddamn movie! You flank when there’s backup, when there’s—God, you’re bleeding—”

You swayed a little and he caught you immediately, half-carrying you behind cover with one arm still pressed to your side.

His heart was racing.

“I thought—” He swallowed hard. “I thought you were gonna die. And I wasn’t even there. That’s the part that kills me.”

You reached for his hand and he let you, still trembling.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You always scare me,” he said, and somehow made it sound like a confession.

Then, softer. “You matter more than any of this. The mission, the intel, even my stupid pride. I don’t care if we argue. I just need you breathing, okay? That’s the deal.”

You nodded, eyes wide.

He pressed a kiss to your palm, rough and fast, like he was afraid he’d lose you again if he waited too long.

“Next time, we go in together. Or not at all. I don’t care how good your plan is.”

And despite everything, despite the pain, you smiled.

Because under all that fire and noise, Axel loved you like a storm—loud, chaotic, and impossible to ignore.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

INBOX OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox. ���്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

✶⋆.© DHAZEFAWN don’t use my work without my consent.

[smutinlove]

Jason Todd having a size kink will never not be on my mind. he’s 6ft, 6’2ft depending what universe you’re talking about and weighs at least 200 lbs if not more, he is built like a tank.

took him awhile to get use to his size so being around people who are 5’2 even 5’5, seemed abnormal to him. could pick us up with no effort, throw us over his shoulder and walk like nothing happened.

he would use his weight for advantage, leaning down real close almost suffocating but enough to get the gears turning… his hands? ough. big enough to wrap around throats, thighs.

sorry had some thoughts

YES, OH MY GOD.

after the pit changed him, it took him awhile to get used to his height and general appearance. I mean, this man is 6ft and weighs around 200 pounds.

he'd be hitting his head on doorframes and towering over people. can't reach the cereal box on the top shelf? don't worry, he'll get it.

and he's so strong and muscular too.

oh my god, he'd be the type of person to pick up ANYONE and throw them over his shoulder with no hesitation.

he'd even do it for fun.

and we all know that Jason reads books. he ain't no basic becky, okay? this man reads and it makes men and women feral for him.

this man's hands are big. so basically, he'd be enveloping the book in his hands.

speaking of his big hands, Jason's hands WANDER.

when his face is buried between your thighs, he'll occasionally give them a tight, good squeeze, causing you to whine. then he'll mutter something like: "aw, is my precious angel getting all worked up? come on, baby, i wanna hear those sounds."

this man is addicting.

he'll also occasionally give your throat a nice squeeze if he feels like it. or if you ask him to. he'll do it either way.

his big, veiny hand wrapped around your throat, leaving only a little bit of room for you to breathe.

this man is horny too.

he'll fuck you whenever and wherever. he has no shame. he'll do it in your local grocery stores' bathroom or even at the back of a bar.

and the groans he'll let out while he fuck your brains out.

"come on, doll, 'that all 'ya can do f'me?" or "fuck, you drive me crazy, love. your pretty face and thick thighs. you don't even know half of what you do to me."

More size k!!nk headcanons

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Lazarus | Family | Romantic

When your eema Mary and her Son visit you and your husband Lazarus in Bethany, something is different about your behaviour. Some telltale signs don’t hide your current state.

Requested by Xochilt

There is a low sun in the backs of Mary and Jesus, providing gentle warmth in the afterglow of the day on the road. Rosy-cheeked and satisfied, mother and Son enter the town of Bethany for a well-deserved break from the business of the ministry, finally going to spend some quality time with the people they haven’t been seeing as much as they’d have liked to. After all, you are the younger sister of the Messiah, so it makes sense for you to miss Him and your eema dearly in return.

Mary, the sister of Lazarus and Martha, is already waiting for them near the gate, having looked forward greatly to their arrival, and a beaming smile spreads over her face from one ear to the other as she lifts her skirt just a bit lest she trip over the ends of her dress whilst she hurries towards them. “Jesus! Mary!” She flings her arms over the two in a crushing hug, which is met with laughter and greetings of ‘shalom shalom’, and after pulling apart, they begin heading for the spacious home that Lazarus owns. 

“You look well,” compliments Mother Mary her namesake, who curtsies and smiles. 

“Well, life has been great lately. The weather is nice and we’ve been busy. (Y/n) and I have started to tend to a garden, so we’ve been outside a lot, spending quality time together…” 

Mother Mary hums at the mention of her daughter. 

The faithful woman who had come to fetch them is often this bubbly and enthusiastic when it comes to the things she adores, but there is something about her that she cannot quite place. Perhaps that there is more to it , something she will find out soon enough. 

“Ah, there they are!” Lazarus is standing on the doorstep of his home and grins as he sees his friends appear in the small courtyard in front of the house. “I was already wondering if you got lost on the way,” he teases, “You must be exhausted. Come on in!” Jesus smiles when Laz embraces Him tightly, patting Him on the back. “Wow, You smell.” 

“We’ve been under the sun all day, what did you expect?” Jesus defends Himself against his brother-in-law. Lazarus also gives Jesus’ mother a quick hug and smiles. 

“Your eema doesn’t smell as bad as You do.” 

Mary clicks her tongue and pats the younger man’s shoulder. “Luckily, you have a great bath tub at this place.” 

Lazarus smirks. “Ah… I see how it is, now. You’re just here to make use of our amenities. Now come on, let’s head inside so you can greet the others.” 

Martha is the next person they run into, her face a little flushed at the rush of preparing dinner, and judging by how neatly the floors are swept, it is clear that she has been working hard to get things in order for a while. “So early?” she mutters, flustered, but a smile spreads over her face nevertheless. “It is good to see you again. Welcome, make yourselves at home.” She, too, hugs the Messiah and His mother. 

“Where is your lovely wife at, Laz?” Jesus wonders as they step into the living area and find it completely empty. 

The man in question plants his hands on his hips and hums. “She can’t be far. (Y/n)!” 

“Here I am!” Upon hearing your name, you poke your head through the door of the backyard, and a bright smile appears on your features. “Oh, Jesus, eema, you’ve arrived! Shalom shalom!” 

Carrying a crate full of fresh produce straight from the garden, you step into the house and kick the dust off your sandalled feet before proceeding to greet your guests. There is a squash, two cucumbers and a few leeks in the wooden box you’re holding, your hands covered in mud far under your nails. “I’d embrace you two, but you see how my hands are.” 

“Shalom, (Y/n)!” Jesus smiles, approaching you to pull you into a half-hug due to you holding something heavy in your hands. “It’s great to see you again, little sister. I see you’re keeping busy. Let Me get that for you.” He is about to take the crate from you, but you shake your head with a small smile. 

“No, it’s fine, really!” you breathe, a tinge of pink on your cheeks, “I need to wash my hands anyways!” 

Mother Mary steps closer to greet you as well, gently patting your cheek in a parental way, and her eyes search your face in such a way that you nearly shrink under the sudden scrutiny. After all, Mary knows you better than anyone. She lets out a warm hum, something flickering in her gaze that is difficult to place. “You look good, (Y/n). Very healthy.” 

“Thank you, eema,” you respond, a little awkward. She pulls away and gives you room to head for the kitchen, where your sister-in-law is already working hard on the meal for tonight. Mary narrows her eyes in thought.

Jesus notices. “What is it, eema?” 

“I’m not sure yet,” Mary murmurs to her Son, “But I’ll figure it out before the end of the night.” 

You help out Martha with washing and preparing the vegetables before you bring around the drinks, goblets carefully perched on a small tray in your hands. “Thank you, (Y/n),” Jesus gratefully says upon receiving a cup of wine, “We never have anything to want whenever we visit you here.” 

Squeezing the Messiah’s shoulder, you give Him a small smile. “Of course,” you say, “You’re family, aren’t You? And You’ve done so much for us, for my husband, that this is the bare minimum to provide for You.” 

A warm arm finds a home around your shoulders as Lazarus pulls you against him and presses a soft kiss to the side of your head. “Hm, you smell nice,” he compliments, causing you to blush and swat at his chest. 

“Not in front of my eema and brother, Laz…” 

Jesus and Mary chuckle at the gentle scene and your husband simply shrugs, unaffected by your chastisement. “What can I say? Are they not allowed to know that I think you smell pleasant? Then again, I’m sure that your mother would like to know that I treat her darling oldest daughter with respect and dignity.” 

You click your tongue and nearly roll your eyes at him, but the blush on your cheeks betrays your actual mood. Lazarus watches as you head back to help out his younger sister, smiling dreamily after you. 

“Something going on, Laz?” Mother Mary wants to know, noticing the way her son-in-law is regarding you softer and gentler than ever. Your husband snaps out of his trance and blinks at her.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Mary smiles a bit. “You’re never this overly affectionate around her whenever there are guests over. Not even when Jesus and I are around.” 

Lazarus lets out a small huff and clears his throat, pretending that he’s just fine. “What? I’m not sure what you mean.” 

Mother Mary won’t pressure him about it, but an inquisitive look flickers behind her eyes. “Very well, then,” she murmurs, “Suit yourself.” 

As Lazarus disappears in the kitchen as well, Jesus leans over to His eema. “What is that all about?” He asks her, “Why are you looking at them in that way?” The Messiah knows, but He wants her to say it out loud.

Mary’s lips curve up into a smirk. “I don’t want to assume anything just yet,” she says, “So I think that we’ll have to be patient to prevent awkward situations.” 

Inhaling to speak again, Jesus sits up a bit, but Martha and Mary step out of the kitchen in order to serve dinner, cutting the conversation short. You and Lazarus lay the table as well, making sure that everyone is perfectly tended to. 

You, your husband and sisters-in-law take a seat at your usual spots at the table, asking Jesus to lead in prayer. Once He is done providing His blessings over your meal, you fill the plates of your guests before loading your own. Well, loading… Lazarus has a great appetite as always, but Mother Mary notices the way you flinch when a bowl full of pickled cucumbers passes you by, even though you usually love the sour vegetables.

Lazarus gives you a worried look, a moment of silent understanding passing between the two of you, and you nod upon taking a sip of water. Your eema decides to observe you for a while longer. 

You grab some carrots. Some veal. A handful of olives. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. She does not pay attention to Jesus’ story about what He has been up to lately, instead focusing on the small cues in your face and body. The way you flinch in discomfort whenever the pickles stand near, and how you ask your husband to place them a little further from you even though the bowl is not even that close. The fatigue that finds a way in your features, even though not much time has passed. 

Every little thing you do seems to convince Mother Mary more and more of your condition, but she knows it is not her place to ask, nor is it her position to expect you to reveal it just yet. No, she will remain patient, well aware that you will tell the news in your own time. 

“Could you pass me the goat cheese, please?” you ask Martha, who takes the wedge and passes it to you. Carefully, you carve off a slice and crumble it into pieces above a… A bunch of… Olives and pomegranate seeds. 

“Goat cheese, olives and pomegranate seeds?!” your eema exclaims, her suspicion and the excitement that lingers within audible in her voice, and the conversation around the table falls silent. Gasping, she puts a hand over her mouth, blushing a little at her own reaction. “I’m sorry, I just… I thought…” 

You share a look with your husband before smiling a little, humming when he puts a hand on your arm and gently squeezes to comfort you. 

“It’s fine, eema” you reassure the woman sitting diagonally across from you. “I already thought you’d figure it out. I… It’s just that I… I didn’t want to admit it, but…” 

Mother Mary’s eyes widen, a smile growing over her face as she listens to you with bated breath. The way Martha and Mary of Bethany are watching the scene with glittering eyes speaks volumes of them already knowing it, too. 

“I…I just really like goat cheese and pomegranate when combined with olives,” you tease her with an unsatisfactory answer, spooning full your mouth with a large bite. The woman from Nazareth lets out a small noise and sinks back in her chair, almost disappointed. “You should really try it. It’s one explosion of flavours inside your mouth! Savoury, sour, sweet… It’s amazing!” You pull a face of delight and take another huge bite of the strange food combination.

Lazarus gives you another squeeze, almost in a warning way, and he fights a chuckle. Your eyes meet his own, a soft grin playing over your lips. 

“Darling…” 

“What?” you muse, “It’s funny. And besides, it’s not like she doesn’t know.”

His smile grows before he gives you another look, and you know that it is time to truly reveal it now.

“…Oh, and another thing.” 

Mary drops her spoon and nearly gawks at you, almost about to physically pull the information out of you. 

“What is it?” she gasps, “Tell us! Tell me! Tell me if I’m right!” 

You laugh softly. “I don’t even think I need to say it out loud. You already know, don’t you eema?” 

“Yes, but I want you to say it out loud! I want to hear it from my daughter!” 

Humming, you give Lazarus a loving look, then look at your sisters-in-law, and then towards the woman who is nearly bursting apart from anticipation. “Yes, Lazarus and I are expecting a baby—” 

“I knew it!” Mother Mary cheers and practically jumps up from her chair to round the table and embrace you. Laughing at her enthusiasm, you stand up to let the smaller woman pull you into a crushing hug. “Oh, my first grandchild! I can’t believe it! I’m so proud of you two.” 

Jesus chuckles and gets up as well. Once she is done with you, your mother goes to congratulate Lazarus with equal fervour. 

“I’m so happy for you, little sister,” Jesus muses as He kisses the crown of your head, holding you close. You hum and pull away, leaning your head against His upper arm as you watch your husband get coddled by his eema-in-law, yet at the same time reprimanded that he should take good care of you and not let you out of his sight. You chuckle. 

“Thank You.” 

“How are you holding up?” 

You shrug. “I’ve been horribly sick in the mornings, but hey, it’s part of the deal.” 

Jesus releases you and pats your arm in greeting before walking over to Lazarus, who gladly accepts the offered embrace. “Ah, congratulations, Laz. I never doubted that you’d make My little sister a happy woman and provide for her.” 

“I’m the lucky one with her in my life,” Lazarus admits, and you observe them whilst Mary goes to your sisters-in-law to ask whether they’re looking forward to becoming aunties, to which the answer is obvious. 

You feel a warm arm slide around your torso and Lazarus pulls you against him, his hand coming to rest on your abdomen. A small swell sits under your tunic, not yet fully noticeable but present nevertheless, and your husband lovingly gazes down at you. “I knew they’d be over the moon. Especially your mother.” 

Nodding in agreement, you rest your head against his chest as you watch Mother Mary interact with your brother, Martha and Mary. 

“I think our child will have the best family he or she could ever wish for.” 

Lazarus nods, giving you an adoring look. “That is for sure, my love.” 

[niishii]

do you remember? [ a douglas hadine drabble]

word count; 255

warning(s); none just fluff.

"Do you remember when we thought the world was going to end?"

Doug expelled a breath, the side of your face sinking further against his chest. For a moment, his heartbeat stilled just before his lungs filled back up and his heart went back to work.

It was just the two of you, sitting on the edge of the world while your feet dangled above the people going about their lives below. The sun was stalling— its rays inking the sky in pink and purple—not quite ready to say goodbye for the day.

"I remember it like it was yesterday," Doug said after a beat of silence. You didn't have to look up at him to know the corners of his mouth were tilted upwards in a slight smile, but you did anyway.

Briefly peeling away from him, you playfully nudged his rib with a short laugh. He groaned, clearly still injured from the grisly stunts he pulled in Pakistan, but took your playful jab in stride by producing a subtle grin.

You gave him an apologetic look, about to distance between you so he could recover, but he was already pulling you closer to him, as if you were his band-aid that simply needed readjusting.

"It was yesterday," you reminded him before your head fell upon his shoulder for good measure this time. He kept your back steady with his arm, his hand massaging your shoulder gently in between his small, short-lived chuckles.

"Then how can I forget the day I almost lost you?"

[timeless-fanfic]

Can you do Lazarus fanfic plss there’s is none of him written 😔😔

After the Silence

Word Count: 677

Pairing: Lazarus x Reader

The first time you saw him after he returned from the grave, you almost didn’t recognize him.

It wasn’t because of how he looked—his face was the same, his voice still calm and deep, still measured in every word. No, it was the stillness behind his eyes. A silence that hadn’t been there before. As if the world he’d come back to was somehow… quieter than the one he left behind.

You hadn’t been able to stop staring.

Not in fear. Not in disbelief. But in that soft, trembling way people look at miracles when they forget how to speak.

He’d died.

And now he lived.

And all you could think about was how you’d missed your chance to tell him.

Not that he hadn’t known—he had to have known. You’d followed his sisters to visit him enough times, lingered in conversations just a little too long, smiled a little too shyly when he caught your gaze across a crowded courtyard. You had loved him with a quiet heart, a patient hope.

And then he'd gotten sick.

And then it was too late.

Until it wasn’t.

It was evening now. Days had passed since the miracle. The buzz of the village had started to fade into whispers. Guests had gone home. And you were still carrying words you hadn’t yet dared to say.

You found him alone near the olive grove just outside Bethany, sitting on a low stone wall with a loaf of bread untouched beside him. He was staring at the sky like he was still trying to remember how to be here.

You approached slowly.

“Lazarus?” you said softly.

He turned, and when he saw it was you, his expression warmed in that familiar, quiet way. “(Y/N).”

You stopped beside him but didn’t sit yet.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted company,” you offered.

“I do,” he said immediately, then looked slightly surprised at himself. “I mean—yes. I’d like that.”

You sat down next to him, close but not too close. You folded your hands in your lap, eyes scanning the hills in the distance.

For a long time, neither of you spoke.

Then he said it—gently, like an observation: “You’re quiet today.”

You gave a soft laugh. “I’m trying to be careful.”

“Careful?”

“About what I say. About how I look at you. About not saying too much.”

He tilted his head, studying you now. “Why?”

“Because I thought I lost the chance to say anything at all,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “And now that I have it again, I don’t want to waste it.”

He didn’t look away.

He didn’t laugh.

He just reached down slowly, brushing your hand with his, tentative but deliberate. “Say what you want, (Y/N). I’ve heard enough silence to last me a lifetime.”

You blinked. Then turned your hand in his, lacing your fingers gently through his.

“I missed you,” you said first, because it was true.

“I missed you too,” he murmured, just as honestly.

“I thought about you every day. Even when you were gone.”

He nodded. “So did I.”

You looked up at him. “Even when you were…?”

He smiled—soft, tired, but real. “Especially then.”

He shifted slightly, just enough to face you more fully, his hand now resting between both of yours. “Do you know what I held onto, when everything was dark?”

You shook your head.

“Voices,” he said. “Yours. My sisters’. His. I didn’t know if it was memory or prayer. But I heard you. I felt you.”

You closed your eyes, and something inside you finally, finally let go.

A tear slipped down your cheek. “I thought I lost you.”

“And I came back.”

This time, it was you who reached for him.

Not in desperation. Not in fear.

But in wonder.

You rested your forehead gently against his. “I think I was already falling in love with you when you left.”

He smiled, eyes slipping shut. “Then let me give you a thousand days to fall the rest of the way.”

[finalgirlmorgue]

“Jason?”

Jason is a little different after the pit…

Cryptid!Jason au? Feel free to send asks about him. I’ll respond with little doodles. :)

[blue-arkhamknight]

LAZARUS PIT.

Part #1.

Warning: Angst.

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

Dick had found Damian on the rain. It pained him to see his brother like that. “Damian-“ he started, but the boy cut him off; “Don’t.” Damian said firmly, just walking back to Dick. His head hung low and his locks were soaking wet from all the time he had been out.

“DAMIAN! THANK YOU SO MUCH!” you exclaimed in his memory as you looked at one of the gifts Damian gave you. It wasn’t a special occasion, he just listened and got you the stuff you wanted. He replayed that memory over and over. Dick knew he was thinking of something again, so he took his brother’s shoulders and led him back to the manor. If Damian being in a depressed state wasnt enough he’d have to take care of him being ill.

Grayson forced him to take a hot bath and stay in his room. Damian sighed, entering his bathroom to stare at the mirror as he shed his clothes. He’d look at his body and sigh. Who will tell him now that his scars don’t matter? That he looks fine? That he’s perfect? That he doesn’t need to worry about how he looks? Oh… oh how he needs you.

He got in the tub, sniffing and shedding tears silently. Damian rubbed his chest in a way you would do it before to soothe his cries. Though of course it didn’t work. It wasn’t your hand. You weren’t there. Not whispering those sweet nothings in his ear.

After he got out he changed into one of his comfortable pajamas. He brushed his hair and then his teeth. Then Damian washed his face. The face wash was one you had recommended for his acne after he complained to you. It did actually work, and he could notice his breakouts were reducing. He went out the bathroom and into his room, briefly glancing at his desk and decided to walk towards it.

He shakily sighed as he saw the picture you both took together at a photo booth. Damian for once was glad you two took a picture together and gave a copy to him. The smile you wore was perfect, though it always was.

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AND ITS SO SHORT! Ideas and ask’s are very much appreciated and would help me write this faster!!🫶

[lazarusrisingx]

zaynes gentle dom to rough dom pipeline is real and truthful

i need him to plap plap plap me till i go ngh~ngh~ngh~ and cant lift my head up

[ukor02]

If someone doesn't write some Lazarus fanfiction for me I'm going to have an aneurysm

[dhazefawn]

. 📽.ᐟ.ೃ ✈︎ *:･ 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒⭑.ᐟ

♡ · 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 — boyfriend headcannons for 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄 ’n 𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎 .ᐟ

⊹ 💬 · this might be the first lazarus x reader post,,,on tumblr,, like ever. I HAD SM FUN WRITING THIS !! excuse me for the moodboards. i planned on using the anime pictures and couldn’t for the life of me get it right. if i made any mistake giving these characters proper pictures let me know what i can change. anyway i want doug’s hand in marriage. @ukor02 promised i’d tag you<3

♡ · REQUEST — ❛ Oh my gosh! I love the new Lazarus Anime. I was wondering if I could request a Head Cannon, what Doug and Axel would be like as boyfriends, pretty please and thank you!  ❜

ഒ DIRECTORY⠀;⠀RULES⠀;⠀TALK W/ ME.

𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎 ౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚

Total adrenaline junkie who drags you on rooftop runs just for the thrill—but holds your hand the entire time to keep you safe.

Constantly teases you, but it’s always followed with a fond grin and a kiss to your forehead.

Gives you ridiculous nicknames like “speedster,” (don’t ask) “jailbreaker-in-training,” or “honeycomb,” (I actually think that’s cute) just to make you laugh (or groan).

He flirts with you all the time. There’s always a compliment or a pick-up line on his lips.

“You look so good when you’re pissed at me. Wanna make out or knock me out? I’m good with either.”

He always tries to spend time with you. He himself said that drugs never interested him. You’re the only thing closest to reverie he’s ever seen. He can’t get enough of it.

“I just risked my life to save yours. I think that means you owe me a date. Or a sandwich. Or both?”

Does parkour flips unnecessarily just to land next to you and go,

“Bet that got your heart racing. Or was it me?”

Calls you even more goofy nicknames like “sweetheart,” “firecracker,” or “trouble” in the most amused tone possible. If you call him out on it, he’ll double down with:

“What? I’m just manifesting. You are trouble. Preferably my trouble.”

Right in the middle of a mission, after a close call, he’ll smirk and say,

“Hey, if we die today, just wanna say—you’ve got the best damn smile I’ve ever seen.”

Flirts with everyone, but the second you flirt back with real intent? Total system shutdown.

You say, “Careful, I might just take you up on that,” and suddenly he’s like, “Wait—hold on—for real?”

Protective in a “I’d burn the world” way.

He may not say “I love you” outright often, but the way he steps in front of danger to protect you without hesitation speaks volumes.

Trains with you so you can defend yourself if things go south—insists on being your sparring partner even if you “suck at it.”

If you are also a part of Lazarus, he is always only a mere feet away from you during missions. His eye is always on you. He needs to know that your safe.

Surprisingly affectionate. Big on physical touch—throws his arm around your shoulders in public, pulls you into his lap during downtime (or him in your lap, he likes both), and rests his head on your shoulder when he’s tired.

You two are attached to the hip. Or more accurately, Axel cannot be separated from you. It’s not that he is ‘clingy’ per se, he just finds comfort in your touch.

Loves napping with you in weird spots. Somehow makes them cozy. Literally drapes himself over you whenever he wants to. He’s like weighted blanket. Doesn’t matter what you say to him. He’s glued to you.

Loyal to the core. You’re one of the few constants in his chaotic life, and he’ll be damned if he lets anyone mess that up.

Of course he isn’t all just jokes and adrenaline. You’re probably one of the first to see through that. The quiet moments he has with you are forever cherished in his heart.

Would rather die than betray your trust. You’re his home, in a world where nothing stays put.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄 ౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚

Douglas didn’t expect to fall in love—he’s too focused, too busy cleaning up the mess others make—but you caught him off-guard. It was gradual. Gentle. Like gravity pulling him in.

He will analyze every micro-expression of yours—not because he’s suspicious, but because he wants to understand how you feel before you even say it.

He won’t tell you to stay out of danger, but you’ll see the way his jaw tightens before a mission, how he double checks your gear.

Terrible at pet names. At first. You tease him into trying one, and it’s hilariously stiff: “Dearest.” Then he tries “darling” and can’t meet your eyes. Eventually settles on quietly muttering “love” under his breath when no one’s around.

Runs his thumb along the back of your hand while reading. Adjusts your seatbelt without a word. (I noticed he’s always the designated driver, so you shall be his passager royalty). Rests his forehead against yours for a moment longer than necessary.

He’ll glance at you from across the room with this calm, analytical gaze—and then go back to his work like nothing happened. But his cheeks? He can feel the heat. Every time.

When you catch him and tease him?

“I was merely—… thinking.”

“Of what?”

Pause. “You, unfortunately.”

Very thoughtful and slow-moving when it comes to relationships. Once he’s in, though, he’s all in.

Will remember every single thing you say, even offhand comments.

“You liked that one rare flower from the last mission? Yes, I knew that. I got the seeds shipped in.”

Acts of service king. Fixes or builds things for you constantly—a better coffee maker, a quieter door, a portable heat lamp if you get cold.

Writes you notes and equations in the margins of your books or blueprints that say soft endearments, reminders to take care of yourself, drink water, eat and so on.

Emotional maturity? He’s got it. Will sit with you and talk through anything: fears, conflict, your dreams at 3 A.M. while he’s working on a case at the same time.

His calm steadiness helps ground you when things feel like they’re spiraling.

Subtle but deep affection. Isn’t big on PDA, but he always knows when to grab your hand under the table or brush your knuckles with his thumb.

Keeps a picture of you on his person. Maybe tucked into a notebook where only he can see it, or a wallet.

He doesn't forgive easily—not because he's harsh, but because betrayal cuts deep for him. Taking into consideration his reaction at Hersch’s secrets I think trust is a top priority for him.

He needs mutual understanding and clear communication. You never need to be perfect—you just need to be honest.

When someone flirts with you, he doesn’t explode or confront. He just steps closer, sets a hand at the small of your back, and casually calls you “love” or “darling” in that soft, crisp tone that means: They should back off. Now.

Once invited you to a quiet observatory after hours to “talk,” and then just—… casually shows you the stars while explaining gravitational lensing like it’s a lullaby.

No idea it’s romantic until you lean on his shoulder and he realizes: Oh. This is a date. This is real.

He hides how much he cares in the details: always makes sure you’ve eaten, keeps your favorite pen in his drawer, adjusts his sleep cycle to match yours when he can.

He’ll never say “I need you” — but he’ll say “I rest better when you’re here.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

© dhazefawn | all rights reserved. these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified. viewer discretion is advised.

[hurtghul]

A LITTLE DEATH !

──── Damian Al Ghul x Reader. 571 words.

Living after dying was too expensive a price that everyone avoided, because anyone would not be able to continue or repent when the effects of madness came. Everyone who has ever been revived in that well may never be the same again, Damian knew this very well, he has seen it with his own eyes.

The Lazarus Pit was too dangerous. They could use it on soldiers to keep the League of Shadows standing, not use it on loved ones. Using the grave of someone you love is like a death note delivered in front of the devil, on shaking knees. But the loneliness, the guilt, accumulated on him.

He let your inert body sink into the waters, freeing your death to the forces that his grandfather abused. It was a nightmare to see you like this, reminding him that he couldn't save you.

How did he fail like this? He is the heir of the Al Ghul, the blood of the deaths of his origins wells up in his veins. How did your death pass over him?

He can't allow it. No. He forbids you, in life and soul, to agonize in his presence, to abandon him and release him. You have to be with him, he won't let you even fall into the arms of death.

His eyes move over you, as he is always very curious about you. He is fascinated by your body, your curves, and the way the water covers your contours so softly on your fatal wounds. The gaze lingers on your soft, kissable lips, and he longs for the taste of your return. He wants to taste the sweetness of your lips with his. He longs for you, because he needs you. Damian will have wealth, soldiers, weapons, blood. But not having you is like a curse.

Soft, slow breathing is heard. The little chest goes up and down, in and out, in and out. But he doesn't move, not even a muscle, while he's listening to your every heartbeat from the edge of the Lazarus Pit.

Your body begins to react to the effects of the immortal waters, and he looked at you serenely. His hands clenched into knuckles, wishing for your own soul to be saved. Your fingers begin to move, and your body reacts, wanting to escape the waters as soon as you opened the eyes that Damian had loved so much from beneath the waters.

He gently lifts you into his arms and lifts you out of the water, feeling the living heat radiating from your body. He looks at you, intently, attentive to everything about you as he wraps his arms around your body tightly, not wanting you to escape from him.

“Beloved,” Damian whispers, his voice a hoarse but reassuring whisper. He feels your heartbeat. Oh, God. Your heart is beating, your lungs are breathing, your blood is reviving. He smiles slightly, noticing that you have calmed down from the waters and understand every part of what happened.

“I won't let you go… Again,” Damian whispers, almost to himself, holding you tighter, burying himself in your shoulder.

He can sense that you are agitated, your mind processing your return to life, wanting to ask. But the simple, cold gaze of those emerald orbs warn you to remain silent, like before you lost your life.

“I forbid you to leave me again.” He hissed, his breath now hitting your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He can't lose his favorite toy.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

The Chosen ABCs of Romance | Lazarus

Chapter List

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Lazarus is an avid player of games so he loves bringing you to competitions or playing some games at home at the table or in an open field outside of Bethany. He gets very competitive so be prepared to deal with a moping Lazarus if you manage to beat him.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He truly admires your faith and unwavering trust in Jesus. He also loves your caring nature, that you make sure that everyone feels seen and taken care of whenever there is company over. 

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

After dealing with two younger sisters all his life, Laz knows how to comfort you properly. He knows just what to say and do to make you feel better, also aware when he needs to not say anything but just hold you in silence.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He hopes you will stay in Bethany with him as soon as you get married, but he wouldn’t be opposed to moving someplace else should you wish to do so.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

This man is a natural leader so he takes on that role easily in your relationship as well, however not in an overly pushy and demanding way. He always makes sure you are feeling comfortable in his leadership. 

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

As any other couple, Lazarus and you have your occasional squabbles. However, they never last long and mostly rely on misunderstandings, which can be easily fixed if communicated clearly. Since Laz is no stranger to properly talking about his feelings due to growing up with sisters, your arguments are often resolved before the evening rolls around.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Knowing just how lucky he is to have a woman like you in his life, Lazarus makes sure to thank God every day for your presence in his life. He will tell you repeatedly how he feels like he doesn’t deserve a Godly woman like yourself, a doubt that you are quick to remove from his mind.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

No, you don’t really have secrets from each other. Lazarus is not the type to hold back things from his significant other and has nothing to hide in the first place.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

You have learned from him that men can be empathetic as well. Due to previous searches for an eligible spouse, you feared that all men would be looking for one thing only, but you were pleasantly blown away when you started seeing Lazarus, who treated you like his equal rather than a woman meant to submit to their husband.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Truth be told, Lazarus is very calm when it comes to you talking to other men. He doesn’t really mind it, knowing that you wouldn’t even be remotely interested in them. His confidence suits him.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

It takes quite some time for you to convince Lazarus to trim his beard, because it really gets in the way whenever you try to kiss him, constantly getting hair in your mouth just when you’re getting into it. Needless to say, he reluctantly snips it a little, until you’re satisfied with how you can now reach him. He thinks it’s totally worth it, though.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

You had known one another for a long time, since your early teens, when you started hanging out with Martha and Mary. However, it wasn’t until your mid-twenties that you developed a crush on your childhood friend, one that he apparently reciprocated, much to your relief. You had been going on a few dates to see how things would be and from one thing came the other, causing Lazarus to confess to you after a long and deep conversation about life.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Lazarus proposes with the help of his sisters, asking them what they think you’d like and what women in general might expect from a proposal. They helped him arrange a romantic dinner and even urged him to get you some flowers to set the scene. Needless to say, when he popped the question after a delicious meal, what else could you do but say yes?

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

You usually go with either ‘Laz’ or ‘Lazzy’, but whenever you’re feeling lovey-dovey, you go with ‘honey’. He will then call you ‘apple of my eye’, because apples and honey go together magnificently.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

His sisters realised it way before him in the way he’d tense up whenever you were near and the way his voice would go up an octave around you. He was nervous without even knowing it himself. However, once he has realised his own feelings for you and confessed them to you, he gladly talks about you almost every waking moment of the day, much to Martha and Mary’s dismay.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

In public, he holds your hand whilst you browse the market of Bethany. He gives an occasional peck on your forehead or a side-hug, but nothing inappropriate to be witnessed by someone else.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

The fact that he is a close childhood friend of Jesus makes for the best dinner parties at his place whenever the Messiah has been invited. After a wonderful meal, you snuggle up next to Lazarus at the fireplace whilst Jesus talks about God, the Kingdom of Heaven and a lot of other things until you drowsily fall asleep against Laz’s shoulder.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He tries his best and knows a thing or two, having overheard his sisters countless times during their teenage years, swooning over the romantic relationships they imagined for their future selves. Lazarus, of course, took mental notes on what they mentioned, making sure to surprise you with little romantic gestures every once in a while. Sometimes, you come home from market to a freshly cooked dinner, taking that task from your hands. Or he buys you a new veil or dress in your favourite colours.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Lazarus is always standing right by your side, no matter what goal you are trying to reach. He will coach you through the good and the bad, reminding you every day that he is proud of you no matter how things will turn out.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

The relationship had been nice and comfortable up to the moment that Lazarus passed away. After Jesus demanded him back to the land of the living, the two of you realised that life is short and that you must always step out of your comfort zone and try new things because tomorrow might just be your final day.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Growing up with two sisters in the household has definitely developed his empathy. Lazarus is extremely curious about you and your wellbeing, making sure to often check in on you. In turn, you are an open book, trusting everything with him, knowing that you will not be judged for it.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He holds you close to his heart, especially after he comes back from the dead. Sometimes you only realise what you have until you lose it, which was a feeling that he has definitely seen true in the way you were in the days after Laz’s death. The most important things in his life are God, you and his sisters.

Wild Card - A random Fluff headcanon.

The moment he is risen from the dead by Jesus, Lazarus sees the sorrow on your face being replaced with disbelief and immense joy, a moment he often finds himself replaying inside his mind whenever he doubts whether you still like him. The way you acted when he supposedly died is more than enough conformation just how much he means to you.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Before his death, Lazarus was already very cuddly, but this increases tenfold after his resurrection. As if he has realised just how much he loves you now that he had momentarily lost you, he clings to you at every opportunity he gets, of course within reason. 

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Lazarus will never admit it, but whenever you’re away from home for a while, he misses you greatly. When you return and his sisters tell you that he’s barely been eating and sleeping because of your absence, he blushes deeply and neither confirms nor denies it. Your knowing smiles always make butterflies course through him.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He has lost you once and he will not lose you again. Lazarus will definitely do everything in his being to keep you happy in the relationship.

[moonandst4rs]

“No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her”

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Masterlist

DEAN WINCHESTER X GN!READER

WC: 721

Summary: Dean escapes hell, but he isn't the same

Warnings / Content: Inspired by Work Song by Hozier, Angst and fluff, no use of y/n, set in 4x1, 'Lazarus Rising"

A/N: Tried to do more dialogue !! Hope you guys are enjoying these, Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Heaven and hell were words to me”

Dean was back. It was impossible, right? You watched the hellhounds tear him to pieces. You held onto his dead body as sobs escaped your lips.

The air was heavy with unspoken words as you and Dean sat together in Bobby’s yard, broken cars surrounding you, mirroring your situation. You didn’t know if this was repairable.

Dean’s knuckles were white at his sides, his eyes distant, searching the yard like it would answer his questions. You didn’t know what to say. Were you supposed to reach out? You thought about it, but the way his rigid body flinched whenever something touched him made you question otherwise.

You’d stayed practically silent since you first laid your eyes on Dean, instead observing him. You knew he’d try and act like everything was fine. He was stubborn like that. It felt like the Dean you knew was only half here, a shell of the man he used to be. The same smile, but it wasn’t the same. He’d left half his soul down in hell, where he thought it belonged.

“Dean…?” You called out to him softly, not wanting to pull him out of whatever fragile place he was desperately trying to hold onto.

He didn’t respond at first, the muscles in his jaw tensing. You didn’t rush him; you couldn’t, after seeing the flash of emotion flicker in his eyes. After what felt like an eternity, he looked over at you to meet your gaze. The way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing real in a world gone mad, tugged at your heartstrings.

“I’m not…I’m not the same.” He muttered gruffly. His voice was rough since coming back, you’d noticed. You’d noticed the way his eyes kept darting around wildly as if nothing was real. You couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through.

“I know,” you whispered, brushing your fingers against his as a silent comfort for both of you. “You don’t need to be. You’ll always have the same heart.”

He chuckled bitterly; there was no humor behind it. “I don’t believe that anymore.” His voice cracked, just enough to send shivers down your spine. The Dean that you knew wouldn’t admit it. He’d hide behind his dumb grin and shitty jokes. It was different seeing him so broken, so raw and vulnerable.

“I think…” you started, trying to figure out your words. “You need to find your way back. You need to find your footing again.”

He turned back to the cars in front of him, the weight of your words settling in. He didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t know how to keep going after hell.

“How…?” he whispered. “I’ve been trying since I crawled out. I’m stuck walking in circles.”

You moved closer, leaning against the car, pressing your shoulder to his. You were offering him the simplest kind of comfort, a simple grounding force. It was enough.

“You don’t need to figure it all out now. Give yourself some time. This is about putting one foot ahead of the other, one day at a time.”

His body untensed, just slightly. Finally letting go of some of the tension that had held him since he escaped. His lips twitched upwards. It wasn’t a smile. It wasn’t supposed to be. It was something softer—quieter. You finally saw a flicker of your Dean.

“I can’t promise I’ll be the same.” He admitted, his voice barely a whisper, as if he couldn’t even believe he was telling the truth.

You nodded, tilting your head up to look at him. You gave his hand a soft but firm squeeze.

“I don’t need you to be. I just need you.”

Dean’s eyes met yours. You saw the emotion in them. It wasn’t hope, but it was close. The Dean you knew and loved, the one that fought for the ones he loved, was still there, deep down.

"When my time comes aroundLay me gently in the cold dark earth"

“I promised you I’d find my way back to you, didn’t I?”

The time you spent apart didn’t matter. Neither did the darkness that followed him out of hell. What mattered was that he was here. He kept his promise.

"No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[timeless-fanfic]

To Be Posted...

Updated: 4/19/2025, 3:27 PM

The following fics are currently in progress (by request):

Andrew – 13 fics

Big James – 4 fics

John the Baptist – 3 fics

Atticus – 4 fics

Jesus – 2 fics

John – 6 fics

Judas – 3 fics

Matthew – 1 fic

Thaddeus – 2 fic

Nathaniel – 1 fic

Lazarus – 1 fic

Thomas – 1 fic

Yussif – 1 fic

James and John’s Sister – 1 fic

Follow-ups to Already Published Fics – 4 fics

Please note: These will not be posted in this exact order. Since there are so many Andrew requests, I’ll be alternating—posting one Andrew fic, then one for a different character, and so on—until they’re all complete! Any new requests will be added to the list!

[baji-sideblog]

My first yandere boy, I bring him back for my own enjoyment lol.

[blue-arkhamknight]

LAZARUS PIT.

Part #2.

Warning: Some more angst!

(i apologize for the huge wait)

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

Oh his heart. How he yearned for his sweetheart as he laid in bed, indeed sick from the rain. Damian’s skin felt uncomfortably clammy.

He was blankly staring at the TV, a show you liked was playing. He looked braindead and if the scene was taken out of the gloomy context it was almost funny.

To him it wasn’t. He didn’t even think about how he looked. He was demolished. Absolutely and utterly crushed. Cozy blankets were around his trembling body as he fought a cold.

Short gray fur laid next to him in bed, Titus. It felt comforting to Damian in the slightest way. To not be alone, although deep down his whole self needed you. Back in his arms and deeply apologize on how he couldn’t save you— Stop.

Tears threatened to spill as he had to break his own thoughts. Slowly, he moved closer to Titus, sniffing and silently hiccuping, covering his face in his hands as he broke down in sobs.

Titus’ ears perked up, nudging at Damian as he heard his owner’s restless sobs. Embarrassingly enough, the boy had to grab his napkins and blow his runny nose.

“Damian.” Dick called as he opened his youngest brother’s door, his heart ached for the boy. Seeing him so defeated was gut wrenching, seeing how he quickly wiped his face and tried hiding the ache on his heart was even worse.

Grayson sighed, stepping in and closing the door behind him with a click. Damian’s head tilted toward him, petting Titus, but the action was more self calming then just wanting to pet the big canine.

The man sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his little brother with concern. “Damian… Here, your medicine.” it was clear Dick was going to say something else but quick withdrew, giving Damian the pills and a glass of water.

—

After some days, Damian Wayne felt better— From the sickness of course. He decided to do the terrible task of cleaning his room.

We have to remember, you always brought a digital camera with you or just recorded and photographed everything you saw worthy of (literally 96% of those pictures and videos were Damian, he always looked stunning).

While looking through his room, the boy found the camera and it instantly he felt the waves of guilt, sadness, yearn, tears, grief, and whatnot.

Shaky breaths escaped his throat as he gripped on the camera, quickly checking if it had battery. Since it didn’t, he rapidly found the charger and took out the battery, plugging it in.

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

HEYYYYY

this is currently sucking ass so i apologize, im trying to get better at writing!!

i also want to apologize since i may do this a fem reader :)

hope you can enjoy a bit and stick through the updates!

REQUESTS AND SUGGESTIONS ARE VERY WELCOME!!