#trying to get anything done at all would be hell and a half lmao

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

This is just an idea but

What if you made a whiteboard and invited everyone on stream to join it? Just a fun thought is all!

picturing this made me Scream In Fear and also run shrieking into the woods, never to be seen again

[satoruluvies]

jjk men when you call them your husband

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji and sukuna

requested !

wasn't sure if anon wanted an smau or a written one for this so i turned it into a drabble ahahah

gojo: he'd be listening to you yap with an endearing look, half registering what you're saying and mostly just admiring you until that one word would snap him out of his own thoughts. he'd let you continue but then let out a chuckle, not being able to contain himself. when asked why he'd just kiss you on the lips “i can't wait to marry you.”

geto: “how could my husband be prettier than me?” at his geto would just laugh. he would then pull you closer into his arms and utter words of how he finds you the prettiest, most beautiful person to exist. when asked if he isn't flustered at you calling him your husband he'd just shrug “we're basically married already” the slight redness in his cheeks and the tips of his ears with the twitching on the corner of his lips says otherwise about his nonchalant front.

nanami: nanami always knew he would get married to you. but when he heard the word ‘husband’ coming from your lips he still blushes. nanami isn't one to express himself much but he finds himself doing so around you. he'd fix his tie and then mess with his glasses and when inquired about his behaviour he gently caresses your hands, imagining the band of metal to grace your finger that he'd get you soon. “i’m glad we're on the same page about our future”

choso: “husband? are you sure?” you knew what he'd meant by this. he's a half curse and that fact always bothered him but not you. you'd tell him that you didn't care about anything of that sort and he'd cry. choso is a very fragile person and very emotional in contrast to the stoic appearance he has. you adored that part of him so much. “hell we're not even married yet and i’m already crying this much” he'd say between sniffles as you rub his back comfortingly.

toji: you were skeptical about doing this prank on him because he's been married and it was a heavy topic. you did not want to remind him or yourself of it but your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to slip it out anyway. silence followed and your heart sank. you look away and scolded yourself mentally for this. hearing him shift you expected him to walk out but he didn't. he pulls you into an embrace and whispers a bunch of i love yous into your ears. he wasn't a good person particularly but a good husband? he was sure as hell he'd try his hardest for you.

sukuna: “what was that?” you'd hesitate to repeat yourself but his authorative voice would make you do whatever he says. “... my husband” you'd stutter and he'd shake his head. “say that with more pride, i’d like my queen to actually like being my queen”. upon being reminded that this wasn't the heian era anymore he'd speak of the prestige he'd use to have and the privileges that come along with it. you'd be annoyed and tell him to return and fool around with his numerous concubines before storming off. he'd however, would stop you and drag you back “i wasn't done. all that prestige could not compare to a lifetime with you. you'll be my queen, heian era or not.”

it just kept getting longer as it went on lmao

[mournings-stars]

What's ur take on vox aftercare imagines? :3

tell me why i was so in love with this ask, wrote a whole fic and literally forgot to post it omg ANYWAY i love vox with aftercare cus that television does NOT know what he’s doing

yes he’s used to having to reign in val but convincing someone to not be criminally insane and telling someone they did a good job is a tad bit different yk (LMAO)

i doubt he’s ever actually received aftercare or given it before getting into an actual relation(situation)ship so he fumbles with it at first

he’d definitely get the hang of it tho! like i think in private he’s a very doting s/o (in his own way) like he gives you the princess treatment all day every day (as long as no one else is there to see it)

so i think despite that he kinda lacks in the aftercare department cus he literally doesn’t know it exists until you try to initiate it

anyway for this lil blurb my idea was that reader and vox have been hooking up for a while and have gotten closer (it’s not like vox would let just anyone sleep in his bed) so here u go

Vox would really try to give aftercare. Every time since you started spending the night, he’d clean you up and change the sheets. He’d get you something to wear before he took care of himself, and made sure you had anything you could physically need, but that was it. He wasn’t good at the rest of it. He didn’t think to get you tea (especially because he didn’t even like “leaf water”) or a warm blanket, he didn’t think to tell you how he was feeling or how well you did, and he certainly didn't tell you if he needed anything.

No one, before you, had ever even introduced the idea of aftercare. There was a night where you sleepily told him how well he did, and he told you to “go to sleep if you want to stay here tonight,” but you said, “I have to make sure you’re alright first,” like he was ridiculous, laughing as you kissed his shoulder.

“Of course I’m alright… Are you?” He asked awkwardly, thinking you were trying to hint that he’d done something wrong, maybe hurt you.

“Mhm. Just cold.”

“Then… use your blanket?” He pulled his sheets over you as you groaned, shaking your head at him. “What?”

“Nothing… Nothing.” You tucked the blankets over you, turning away from him as you shut your eyes. “Night.”

And it took him hours to fall asleep. Not only was he utterly confused by you, but he had a very needy feeling in his chest. He had half a mind to check and see if he was hard again, because he certainly didn’t feel it, but that was the only thing that made sense.

That is, until he looked at you, tucked into your blankets and finding himself thinking he would be much warmer than some stupid blanket. Why the fuck were you holding on to a blanket and not him—?

And then he had to pause and collect himself because who the fuck gets jealous over a blanket…?

He gently and reluctantly woke you up, feeling bad for it when he watched you blink your eyes open groggily. He came up with something arbitrary, “you’re pushing me off the bed, pretty.”

“Mmm, sorry,” you mumbled and scooted over. He took the opportunity to scoot closer, gently grabbing your waist to pull you against him. You turned toward him, assuming he wanted something else and sleepily bringing your mouth to his neck.

“As much as I like ‘sleepy sex’,” as you called it, “with you, I just want to — hold you.” You didn’t miss the way his screen glitched when he spoke, and he didn’t miss the smile that came to your face before you went back to sleep.

But of course all the niceties were gone the next day when you left before he woke up, which you always did because that was the agreement you had — but surely that didn’t mean things had to be the same in the bedroom.

So he started researching and apparently, “why the fuck is my… partner… being so nice after sex?” Was a commonly searched question in Hell, as it populated almost immediately after he typed “why.”

That led him to trying, really trying, to give aftercare. The first time, you were shocked, telling him you’d clean up, but he insisted and you relented. You let him do what he wanted, thinking he might just be in a mood, but when he very awkwardly asked if you were alright, you realized what he was doing.

“Why don’t I make us tea?” You suggested, getting up from his bed after he’d given you something to wear. “Is that alright? Or, do you want me to keep you company?”

You were much more attentive, and you always knew what to say. That alone made an error appear on his screen, but you didn’t joke or say anything about it. “That’s fine,” he finally brought himself to say.

“Alright. Be right back.” You gave him a smile, gently squeezing his hand as you passed him by and went to the kitchen.

He wanted to tell you to be quick, as he suddenly felt very lonely when he lost the feeling of your hands on him, but he stopped himself.

As if you read his mind, you came back very quickly, also bringing a bowl of fruit with you (and hot water with lemon and honey for him because, again, leaf water). “Blood sugar,” you said, making him laugh.

“So, you like to eat after…?” He concluded, because “blood sugar” was certainly not a valid justification in Hell. You nodded and he did the same in return. “What else?”

“What else, what?” You asked as you sat next to him in bed after setting the tea and fruit on his nightstand, tucking your legs beneath the covers.

“What else do you like… after?”

This time, you didn’t ignore the error screen, taking it as him pushing for too much. “Don’t worry about that — it’s more about what you need… Like, you like to cuddle,” his screen glitched as he cleared his throat, “because you need a little bit of comfort. I don’t need much; maybe, just, something to wear and sleep — but I’d rather not sleep alone.” He nodded along. “I’ll get everything I like; tea, fruit, whatever.” You gave him a very sweet smile, but he understood you were telling him to not ask any more about what you liked — or, he thought he understood that you didn’t want to get personal. “What do you like?” Then you caught him off guard.

No one had ever prioritized what he liked — or, rather, needed after sex before now, and he certainly never wanted to tell anyone. Who knows how they’d use it against him? But you… you just felt genuine.

[the-s1lly-corner]

May we get some general dating headcanons with Ticci Toby Masky and Hoodie please :)?

Dating the proxies

I'm more than sure that I've written these hcs for masky and hoodie before like way back when this blog was first made but ykw imma make new ones.. or not, idk I'm not rereading my old posts LMAO

Characters: Masky, Hoodie, and Toby

Notes: reader is GN

CWs: None

Masky

Semi verbal- he talks every now and then but like hoodie hes more of a listener than anything

Hovers around you when hes home, let's you ramble about what you've been up to because theres no way in hell hes going to tell you what hes done- at least overtime he learns to give you a headsup before he vanishes

It's almost like having a cat tbh...

Very defensive about the mask, he'll pull it up when hes ready..

Actually wait he really is like a cat because it's best to let him seek out touch and affection- he does lean into it if you show signs, though..

Acts of service and quality time, he may be absent for a few days at a time every now and then but he does try to make up for it

Jealous, but not as much as toby- VERY possessive though.. it's almost like a 6th sense when you're in danger or when someone tries to make moves on you.. he almost just.. spawns/hj

Hoodie

Gentle and sweet with you, but very firm when setting boundaries and honors them

More of a listener than a talker, however he does engage in conversations via sign

Speaking of, he's more than willing to teach you so you can better communicate with him instead of having to rely off of writing

Loooves stealing a kiss from you before he has to head out to do something, you usually only ever see the lower half of his face though

Compared to masky hes more likely to take the mask off, though

Very warm! Great for snuggling up to him when its colder out!

Very physically affectionate, loves holding you.. will linger or graze his hands on you as he passes by.. also acts of service- that's another thing he does to show his love!

The least jealous out of the three

Toby

You're definitely his first partner. The nature of his work doesnt exactly leave him much room to interact with many people, and before that he didnt have that large of a social circle

I bring this up to stress that he is very new to this, this is a learning experience for him and.. actually all things considered hes not doing that bad!

He can be a bit of an asshole every now and then, but ultimately hes so hyper focused to make sure you feel comfortable and happy around him, subconsciously he doesnt want you to feel like how he did when he was surrounded by the people in his old life

Very clingy, but he does his best to try to mind your personal space and boundaries, as well as this he tends to be jealous- overtime you do get him to talk about it rather than react or isolate

Hes soft for you, absolutely spoils you and anything ever happened to you he would scorch the earth if it meant making it right

Let's you borrow his jackets, sometimes to his detriment due to not being able to appropriately gauge how cold it is out- though hes naturally a physically cold person in general..

[majimasleftasscheek]

Hihi! Do you have any minedai headcanons? (Idk how to write aAAAAA)

hmmm I had to give this a good think cuz I normally don't obsess about them too much (compared to a certain other pair lmao) but here's what I got 👀

*note! gonna be a mix of silly and more realistic ideas. my interpretation of minedai is pretty unserious

Daigo

genuinely enjoys mine's company, as uptight and neurotic it may be. because daigo was given the chairman position, a lot of people don't respect him other than mine so it's nice to hang out with someone who, despite being overly respectful, is kind to him. he feels a lot at ease with mine, able to be more himself n all that. it's not much but it means a lot to daigo

that said, he totally goes out in his casual clothes when able and is still very goth coded. Mine makes intense but silent notes about every little thing in those outfits and thinks it's very cute when there's little details like tiny skulls n things

likes to do go out spontaneously when he can and takes mine along. mine thinks something like that is way too dangerous for a chairman to be doing but daigo confides that he's not worried if mine is with him (with an ulterior motive to loosen the giant stick up mine's ass to get him to live a little). cue mine choking on his heart

I like the idea of daigo being oblivious to mine's obsessive behavior to an extent. he becomes so used to mine's quirks that he writes it off as oh he's just like that lol. but he's not wholly dumb to it. he'll be lowkey flirty and that's when mine's questions daigo's actions like "why is daigo smiling at me? is he sick? I should call an ambulance..."

genuinely has zero idea what type of things mine likes. tho daigo grew up in a bougie type of life and mine currently lives it, he can assume things like fine arts and fancy shit tho personally he removed himself from that sort of thing as he got older (to avoid being anything even close to his dad lol). comparatively, daigo lives more modestly so gift giving is up to guessing but mine accepts literally anything from him and frankly refuses to give him hints as not to place expectations accidentally

likes to spar with mine and was surprised to see that daigo was decently capable of protecting himself and finds his informal style of fighting very charming. he's seen daigo fight before, but it's a bit of a different intensity when it's just to two of them trying their hardest to impress

has a network of friends/allies like kiryu, kashiwagi, etc that mine keeps a closer than needed eye on. daigo does get frustrated that he has to explain he trusts these people wholly and it's often a point of contention between them

very much likes slow days when they can just chill with each other, however that may be. cuddling is prime even if mine gets mad hot and sweaty so daigo keeps a full body towel handy. it's not unusual for daigo to go out of his way to prod mine for reactions as it's the highlight of his day

Mine

definitely has a shrine dedicated to daigo. for funnies: has weird shit like used napkins, articles of hair, etc just funky stuff someone wildin' would keep. realistically I think he'd be a lil more modest - having photos and baubles, typical normie shrine shit

absolutely has a folder on his phone/computer of "selfies" with him and daigo. most of them are just regular photos you'd find in like newspapers, half of them are blurry as hell, and there's a few he's taken himself but poorly done because he did it under a table or something. and of course there's many photos of just daigo, doing all assortment of things from working hard to hardly working

he's caught by daigo occasionally but mine attributes his behavior to "trying to find better phone signal" as he aims it coincidentally at daigo's spikey heeled boots. even when they're together together, he still does this on the sly

insists on paying for everything whenever they're out but with enough convincing, he'll back down and internally melts when daigo tells him he's just happy to have his company. has a habit tho of "making up" for what he didn't pay for such as ordering lunches n things before daigo can refuse

obvs very violently protective of daigo tho avoids being so in front of him as much as possible. it's very common for someone who's spoken ill of daigo to get their ass beat or thrown into the Tokyo Bay some days later. has a network of people dedicated solely to routing out daigo haters

is often confided to by daigo about the stresses of running the clan and it takes a lot out of mine for him to not be cold and calculating with an answer. has had to learn sometimes people just want someone to listen

at first, mine thought such confiding was some limp dick shit but over time realized that daigo never wanted anything out of such confessions which is unexpected. to have someone be so trusting and vulnerable with him is incredibly valuable

would have "sounds of daigo talking about stuff" recorded and sleeps to it every night. be assured clips of daigo sneezing are in there too

if he was in dead souls, he would be going turbo murder throughout the city just to dent the population of zombies that could even potentially get a whiff of daigo's darkness allure™ cologne. if infected, I imagine he'd have the will to remain loyal cuz the power of simp compels him

[aureliaporter]

sleepless nights

summary: a lack of a certain childe means you can't sleep. how do you deal with it?

a/n: i was in ross with my mum and i heard the song "how do you sleep" by sam smith and this idea literally just slapped me across the face lmao

cw: probably cursing, mentions of unaliving, a fly (🤬), a ginger (childe lmao), gn!reader, teasing!childe (kinda?? i think), clingy!childe, sleepy!childe

TICK. TICK. TICK.

you groaned, rolling over in bed to glare at the clock. the seconds hand, ever unaware of your plight, continued to tick, only adding to your anger.

tick.

tick.

tick.

tock.

the moment the minute hand joined the symphony, moving just a hair to the side to demonstrate the passing of another sixty seconds, you cursed, sitting up angrily and throwing the bedsheets off of you.

tick.

tick.

tick.

you left the room, nearly slamming the door behind you but managing to hang on to your temper just enough not to. you leaned against the door, holding your head. you'd been trying to fall asleep for the better part of three hours, but you'd had no luck.

tick.

tick.

tick.

you cursed again, pushing off the bedroom door to stalk off to the kitchen, grumbling about a certain ginger the whole way. of course he'd ruined you enough to the point you couldn't sleep without him. of course.

..

..

..

at the lack of the ticking sound, you practically laughed in - slightly deranged - delight, slumping against the kitchen island. a fruit bowl was set in the center, sunsettias and apples stacked together in a cylindrical pattern. the lights were still off, but the moon was particularly bright - or particularly annoying - tonight, managing to shine in even past your curtains. but to be fair, they weren't blackout curtains.

bzzt.

bz bzzt.

bzt.

you lifted your head, frustration practically pouring out of you as you saw the two flies buzzing around. that was what you got for opening the windows in the summer.

you kept your eyes on the flies, both landing on the edge of the island nearby. with your right hand, you reached for a rag to whack them with, fingers closing around it before you moved quickly, managing to strike down one of them.

now for the other one.

this one seemed more intent on making your life hell, moving before you could even step towards it. your curses flowed freely as you tried to catch it.

"stay still so i can- archons, let me kill you!" you shouted at the fly, too enraptured in your battle to notice a smirking ginger leaning against the refrigerator.

"oh? and i thought i was the one with murderous tendencies," he teased, taking two long strides towards you and snatching the rag from you. "sit back and let me show you how it's done, comrade."

"call me that again and you can sleep at zhongli's instead tonight."

he merely shot you a grin, then focusing on the fly. he went for it once, twice, thr- and then he was off the rails, whacking the rag against anything in an attempt to kill the fly. you folded your arms, watching him with an amused smile as he finally ran out of patience entirely and summoned his water blades - wades? blaters? - to slice it in half.

silence blanketed the two of you before- "don't think for a second i'm gonna clean up those fly guts," you said, backing away with an exaggerated gesture to the floor. "also, what happened to your trip? i thought you were gone for another week?"

he groaned but obeyed, crouching down with a paper towel to pluck up the fly remains. "well, a certain balladeer managed to solo half the mission after some bloke insulted the traveler - y'know, that blonde girl with the floaty thing? who stopped osial? so we all got to go home early. and i know my darling was missing me, so it all worked out perfectly."

you chuckled, shaking your head. "see, i would believe that, if i didn't get a message earlier today from the fatui - do you know them, by chance?" you teased, crossing the room to the stack of mail and plucking off the letter at the top as he paled.

"wait- (y/n), hang on-" he pleaded, trying to snatch the letter from you.

"to the partner of the eleventh fatui harbinger," you read aloud, smirking, "it is my deepest regret to inform you that we have been struck by misfortune and will be returning a week late. you will be pleased to note that childe is uninjured, and will merely be late. bidding you a pleasant evening."

ajax had an awkward look on his face the entire time, eyes slightly widened and lips parting as he tried to think of a response. "w-well-"

"unless you're not ajax, i'm pretty sure you committed treason to the tsaritsa by abandoning your post," you said, folding the letter again. "you're gonna need a pretty good reason why, y'know."

he groaned, moving towards you with barely a moment's hesitation and wrapping his arms around you, embracing you tightly. "i missed you, okay?" he admitted lowly, squeezing you into him. "i couldn't sleep without you there. pantalone noticed and told me to go back, since a distracted agent is as good as a dead one."

you sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist. "i get it, hun," you said, stifling a soft smile. he might have thought you were just comforting him, but you really did get it. you'd nearly broken the clock in your shared bedroom just from frustration at a lack of sleep. "shall we head to bed, then?"

he didn't respond immediately, nuzzling his nose into your neck as if he was trying to memorize your scent. "ajax?" you asked, squirming slightly at the feeling.

"yeah, let's go," he said, loosening his grip the slightest bit to tug you back to your bedroom. you climbed onto the bed, stifling a yawn as he changed from his uniform to a baggy pair of pajamas, practically throwing himself on top of you with a grunt.

"geroffme," you groaned, trying to push him off. he listened, rolling onto the spot beside you to wrap you in his arms, pressing his lips against the back of your neck.

"archons, i missed you," he murmured, kissing along your skin. "i could barely think of anything aside from you, lovely."

"in the modern world, they call that 'simping'," you said, taking one of his hands to play with his longer fingers, folding them and stretching them gently, entranced. "i was like that, too. thank the archons i had the past few days off work, or i might've broken something."

he chuckled, his breath tickling your skin. "yeah, thank the archons," he said, stifling a yawn against the back of your neck. "'s it okay if i fall asleep now?" he asked, voice soft and cute and making you just want to squish his cheeks.

"you don't have to ask permission to sleep."

"but i wanna.. stay up 'nd talk to you."

"then stay up and talk to me, hun."

"but 'm tired."

you giggled softly, feeling him shift behind you as he spooned you. "sleep now, and we talk tomorrow. deal?" you offered, interlacing your hands and laying them on the bed, eyes tracking over every scar and mark staining his pale skin. beautiful.

"mkay," he mumbled, nuzzling into you. "i love you," he said, words slurring together sleepily.

a dopey grin tugged your lips up. "and i love you, even if you are a ginger."

he didn't seem to hear the second part of your sentence, falling asleep within seconds against you. and, soon enough, you were falling asleep too.

did this whole thing on my phone so very much a chance the formatting looks wonky!! my apologies :(

please take some sleepy ajax fluff this boy has my heart (i say this after reading ajax angst for like two hours today 😭)

anyways!! have a great day/night!! send in what you wanna see and i'll do my best!! also gonna go on vaca soon so dont know if i'll he able to keep up with posting daily but i will make my best attempts 💚✨

[dootdootwriting]

HIHIHI IDK IF URE STILL TAKIJG REQUEST BUT IF U ARE, ATUSHI,DAZAI AND RANPO MAKING READER CRY? (gender neutral or fem is great if that’s okayyy) TAKE CARE 😘💞💓 make sure ure eating drinking sleeping and all that jazz 🫶🫶

featuring: atsushi; dazai; ranpo (separately tw: mild descriptions of violence/injury in atsushi's part, crying, dazai typical suicide jokes/discussion of them in his part, "angel" as a pet name, swearing (from me) type: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort pronouns used: none (no use of "belladonna") (dazai flirts with another woman but god dammit that man is BISEXUAL. reader is gn) a/n: YIPPEEE THREE OF MY BEST BOYS!! and tysm im actually coming down with some kindof sickness my dad has covid so i hope its. not that LMAO but thank you <333 i'm going to bed after i write this!

under the cut for length <3 i may have gotten a LITTLE carried away with dazai DHAGHDG

ATSUSHI

is it even possible for this dude to make you cry, genuinely? he's such a caring boyfriend that he second guesses just about everything he says in case it could somehow offend you

it's partially adorable and partially annoying

so, him hurting you is pretty much out of the question. so how the hell does this sweetheart end up making you cry??

by getting hurt

he gets beaten within an inch of his life in yet another accidental run-in with akutagawa, and you have to drag him out of that situation as fast as you can, carrying him all the way to the ada

kunikida opens the door, notices your tear-stained face first and then atsushi's limp body flung over your shoulder, and calls for yosano immediately. she arrives in under three seconds, scooping him up and rushing him to her infirmary.

and now, all you can do is wait

hours after the incident, after yosano informs everyone that he'll most likely pull through, you try to get some work done. but with your boyfriend having just nearly been killed, it's pretty much impossible.

ranpo is so worried about how distressed you look that he offers you a pocky stick. you accept it and eat it, but it doesn't taste like anything.

your thanks is half-hearted.

you're sitting there in front of your google doc, eyes tired and red from sobbing earlier. there are three words written on what's supposed to be an incident report. kunikida sighs, pats you on the back, and takes your laptop away from you, telling you he'll take care of it.

that's when yosano gently re-enters the main room, calling you over

atsushi is sitting upright in bed, eyes misty. as soon as he sees you, he tries to sit up even more. yosano snaps at him.

the thing you want to do more than anything is jump into his arms and cry into his chest, but you don't want to risk hurting him even more. so, instead, you opt to gently sit on the edge of his bed and wrap your arms around him.

both of you start crying again, and atsushi promises he'll be more careful next time.

DAZAI

oh good lord . what did he do this time

jokingly flirting with yet another woman and asking if she'll do a double suicide with him again? yeah, that'll do it.

as always, his newest mark turns him down, skittering away as quickly as possible. you don't blame her.

"how come you keep asking people to commit suicide with you?"

"hm?" he doesn't seem to understand, flashing you that head-empty smile. he's completely enamored with you, you can tell, but then... why is he still up to his stupid habits?

"i mean, you're with me now. are you still really looking for someone to die with you?"

"well, you keep saying no, so what am i supposed to do~?"

it's a joke, you can tell. it's always a joke, except when it isn't, and with dazai, really, who can tell?

you don't want him to run off and end his life with some lady he met fifteen minutes ago. and they all reject him anyway, but what if, one day, one of them doesn't? would he be caught off guard and admit he was teasing? or would he not even miss a beat and actually go through with it?

the thought of him just leaving you without warning is so distressing, your eyes start to tear up. you thought you were done with this.

immediately, dazai notices. his eyebrows furrow and his expression immediately sobers.

"hey, angel, what's wrong?"

through tears, you have to explain everything to him. how much he means to you, and how little you feel that it seems that he could throw you and the rest of his life away at the drop of a hat. how you can never tell if he's joking, if he means it, if he's teasing. how much you just want him to stay with you and never leave.

he's taken aback. for a fraction of a second, dazai's eyes widen and he's left at a complete loss for words.

of course, as always, he regains his composure almost immediately, pulling you in as close as he can to his chest and rubbing circles into your back.

"i thought you knew you meant too much to me for me to do that," he murmurs, his voice as low and soothing as he can muster. "i'm so sorry, i didn't realize how much this was bothering you. i won't do it anymore, i promise. and you never have to worry about me leaving you like that. i can't just throw all this away! you're everything."

and he holds you like that for as long as you need before taking you back home.

RANPO

this man and his fucking candy i swear to god

it's always a bargain with him. you want a kiss? okay, but you owe him a lollipop. hugs? while he's working? you'd better have a cookie ready.

honestly, it's almost as if he's doing it just for you. like he doesn't love the affection just as much as you do, if not even more

ranpo enters every request of him with the mindset of it being a trade. instead of both of you receiving a kiss, it's your request, so he deserves something in return.

it's stupid is what it is (in a complete contrast to ranpo himself)

"i'm not giving you a lollipop, ranpo. you either get a hug, or you don't."

"fine, i guess i don't then. suit yourself." he spins his chair back around and gets back to typing, making a point of only using his index fingers to go as slowly as possible

"this is stupid, ranpo."

he swivels back around, his eyes open and giving you one of the most piercing expressions you've seen from him thus far.

"stupid? it's not stupid, it's just the way i do things. if you want a hug so bad, go to kunikida for all i care. besides, you should know better. if my own way sounds stupid to you, that means you're the dumb one. i'm just taking advantage of an opportunity; nobody said you had to get all fussy about it. just get back to work and leave me alone."

it stings! i mean, this is your boyfriend, who, despite being selfish at times, is usually one of the sweetest and most caring people you've met. just because of a lollipop? and you're the stupid one?

you feel like crying.

oh. you are crying?

you hadn't even noticed, and you weren't even sure why - this type of thing was usually something you should be able to suck up and give ranpo the silent treatment about.

but you're crying?

ranpo notices from the corner of his eye, and immediately feels insanely guilty

so of course he makes a show out of it.

"wait! there's something wrong! something doesn't add up!"

he stands up on his chair, procuring his glasses from his pocket and flashily but delicately placing them on his face.

"my lovely partner is crying! which can only mean one thing. it seems... in this singular, incredibly improbable situation... i, the world's greatest detective.... am wrong!"

he drops back down to sit cross legged on his chair again, puting his glasses back into his pocket.

"i'm really sorry, i didn't think this would upset you so much. i'll give you as many hugs as you want from now on."

[milkywaydrabbles]

Number 6 stuck in the wall with adrian tepes!

I've never seen that done with him before!

A/N: wait I had so much fun writing this lmao. I don't ever really think about stuck in the wall as a trope but damn it's good. Anyways here's the drabble and I hope you like it mwuah.

CW: doggy, pet names, smut

Stuck in the wall x Adrian Tepes

"Oh fucking hell!" You groaned, trying to concentrate enough to get yourself out. You were stuck in quite the predicament—literally. Recently today, you'd learn a fun new spell that would let you move through walls —almost like your body on an anatomical level vibrated so quickly it let you pass through solids. You were having the time of your life once you learned to control it, jumping in and out of rooms throughout the castle keeping you entertained for hours. It was fun enough, with Adrian being out for the majority of the day helping the village people, it kept you busy. But you got reckless. You started going too quickly through the walls, foot catching on a rug in between walls and you came tumbling down. You braced yourself for impact except it didn't come in the form of a flat surface colliding with your face, no that would be too easy. It came in the form of whiplash as you accidentally trapped yourself within the wall, top half of your body in one room while the bottom half of your body was out in the hallway. And you were alone. "Fuck!" You groaned, trying your hardest to remember the incantation. But you were too fucking frustrated to remember anything at this point. Thank God you had least had the sense to open the door as a just in case. You hated that you needed it.

"What interesting wall decor I seem to have stumbled upon." A familiar voice teased with a hint of a chuckle. This is not how you wanted him to find you. "Adrian, please, I've embarrassed myself enough" you groaned, face heating up out of shame. "You know I'll need a story here darling" you huffed, and told him the series of unfortunate events that led up to you being stuck in the wall. "please, can you read me the spell so that I can get myself out of here?" There was silence, and at first you thought maybe he had left to go and get the book. But then it took a smidge too long. ".... Adrian?" You waited again, before you felt a hand caressing your ass. "I could" he started "but what do I get out of it?" More teasing.

"You cannot be serious right now." Was he being serious?

A light tap to your cheek. "I could help you get out. But that wouldn't be fun would it?" Oh, he was being serious.

"Adrian, honey" you tried to reason "I'll go down on you after you get me out if that's what you want." A pause. And then a hum. And then another, harder smack. "That's not what I want. I think I want you like this." You squirmed under his touch, bracing your hands on the wall as if you would be able to get out. "Adrian.." you breathed out. "Will you let me sweetheart? I promise I'll help you get out...just let me have fun yeah?" You nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you before feeling another smack and you yelped. "Words, baby." "Y-yes, yes Adrian."

His hands started peeling back your pants and underwear, making it a point to drop them slowly. As he pushed them further down he blew on your tight cunt, hearing you gasp from the other side and seeing you rubbing your thighs together. He landed on his knees as your clothes dropped into the floor, not bothering to take them off your ankles. "Look how messy you already are" he cooed, using two fingers to spread your lips apart, seeing you clench. You whimpered, too embarrassed to speak. Adrian always got you so wet so quickly, ready to take him at any point. "Don't worry baby, I got you." And with that he dipped his tongue deep into your cunt. You cried out in pleasure, already trying to fuck back on his tongue to no avail —you really were stuck, after all. His tongue traveled from out of your pussy to tease your clit, before latching his lips on. He moaned around you, loving the way you tasted.

"Adrian!" You gasped, knees buckling from how good he was eating you. He practically made out with your cunt, slapping your ass every now and again. Two fingers teased the entrance of your hole as his tongue flicked the sensitive nub. The thickness and length of his fingers stretched you out deliciously, feeling him immediately finding that spongy part that had you seeing stars. "Will you come for me? I want to taste you" he nearly growled, and you can only imagine how wild he looked right now. It made you gush around his digits. You trembled and clenched around him, inching closer to release. "ah, ah, ah fuck don't stop. Please Adrian don't stop, pleasepleaseplease—" you sobbed, your lover not easing up his brutal pace. One more suck to your clit and you practically screamed on the other side of the wall, tumbling over the edge and riding out the intense wave of your orgasm.

He was ruthless, though, not giving you enough time to catch your breath before you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. "You tasted divine, pretty girl, but I need to feel you fully" the pet name caused a shiver throughout your entire body. "please, Adrian, I need it" you hiccuped, trying to wiggle your hips as best you could. "aww, how can I let my sweet girl down?" He taunted, pushing between your folds and not stopping until his hips pushed against your ass. You both moaned, already dizzy with pleasure. He pulled back to tease your nub for just a moment before shoving himself back in at a brutal pace. His balls heavy with cum slapping against your clit and stimulating you more. "fuck darling, you feel so good" he praised, a hand slapping harshly on your ass before squeezing and spreading your cheeks. His other hand braced on the wall, almost as if he wanted to hover over you. "Your pussy is so good"

You cried, babbling over how good he felt inside of you. His hand gripped at your hips, giving him purchase to continue to slam himself into you. A creamy ring formed around his cock, and the squishy sounds reverberated throughout the halls. You would be embarrassed how sopping wet you are if it didn't feel so fucking good. "you're so wet, such a good girl, all for me" Adrian mumbled to himself, looking at the juncture where his hips met yours. He couldn't contain himself longer, and brought his free hand around to rub at your clit. "fuck, Adrian!" You squeezed him, feeling your second orgasm build up quickly. "Come on, love, give me one more " he groaned, slamming himself to reach even deeper inside you. You didn't even have time to brace yourself before your juices covered both your thighs, trembling and shaking for the second time as you came around his dick. That was enough to throw him over the edge and you felt his hot cum spurting deep inside you, cock twitching in your pussy. Adrian fucked his cum into you with a few more thrusts before ceasing his movements. All that was heard was panting throughout the hallways, both of you spent. "Fuck, that was good" he panted, pulling out and seeing his cum ooze out of your pretty puffy pussy. "Yeah," you agreed, breathless. "Yeah it was."

You pause.

"But really Adrian get me out of here."

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Maniac | König x M!Reader | Part II

Note: Just to clarify, my boii isn’t wearing his helmet in this story, just his good ol’ rag of a shirt on his mighty head. One of my most popular incorrect call of duty quotes makes an appearance here lmao.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting, Knives, Mentions of Homophobia, Unrealistic depiction of KorTac, the Military in general and uhh hand to hand combat?, Injuries, Angst, Slight NSFW, Slight OOC, Reader got a blood kink oopsie, König as well?? Unrealistic portrayal of lots of things

Summary: König’s relationship with KorTac’s local psychopath is something he himself doesn’t really understand. But when an incident happens and a picture of the two is circling around the army base they’re currently staying at, they finally address what is going on between them...

Word Count: 5,18k

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Part I

He doesn’t see Atom for a few days. 

Which is strange, considering that he saw him from afar almost every day in the past but now he’s nowhere to be seen. He can’t feel his presence at all and the attacks aren’t coming. It’s a different kind of unsettling.

Instead, he can sense that something is off with the base in general. After walking out of PT with Horangi and Klaus, they pass a few marines who look at him and then start to whisper.

The other two operators don’t notice it but König does immediately, the anxiety of years of harassment in his youth stirring awake.

At first, it’s subtle. But then after two days, it becomes obvious that the marines are really talking about him, and even his friends realize.

“What the hell’s going on?” Zeus asks eventually when they’re all sitting in the mess hall, eating some sad excuse of what they call fried chicken. He points at König with his fork while chewing.

“They’re talking about you, right? Why?”

The Austrian shrugs his shoulders. “No clue.”

He really doesn’t know. He hasn’t done anything embarrassing and the others haven’t pranked him in a while so there shouldn’t be anything to talk about. Unless...

The image of Y/N licking his own blood with a smirk on his lips comes to mind and he closes his eyes to get that memory out of his head.

Not that he succeeds this time either. In the last few days his brain has run itself stupid with replaying it.

It’s absurd and he kind of questions his sanity but there’s this part in his head that finds the blood-licking extremely hot.

Maybe he got hit a bit too much or Y/N threw him on the ground too often. Or his madness rubbed off. He laughs to himself, forgetting that the lower half of his face is currently uncovered so that he can eat.

“What?” Stiletto asks.

“What what?” He tilts his head in confusion.

“Why’re you laughing?”

He shrugs his shoulder.

“You hang out too often with Atom”, Calisto says, leaning back as she stirs her tea. “He’s rubbing off on you.”

He halts and stares at her. Can she hear his thoughts??

He’s about to open his mouth when Horangi interrupts: “I haven’t seen him around for a while. You two finally buried the hatchet?”

König shakes his head, shoving a bite into his mouth to avoid talking about it. But the others all look at him with expectation, there’s something in their expressions that makes him feel slightly anxious.

“Yeah, what’s your boyfriend up to?” Conor asks, slightly smiling, clearly trying to vex him.

“Oh fuck off”, he mutters with a full mouth, ignoring the eruption of snickers from his friends. His glad that most of his face is still covered, he can feel how his cheeks begin to heat up and he’s sure that his complexion would show it off.

He wonders though. Where’s Y/N?

The question gets answered when they’re on the way to their barracks.

Horangi suddenly pulls König aside after staring at his phone for a bit.

“Dude”, he begins, sounding unsure of how to breach the topic of whatever he wants to talk about, “I think I get why they’re talking about you.”

The tone of the Korean opens a pit in König’s stomach and instead of explaining more, Horangi just gives him his phone, standing awkwardly to the side, while he looks at the screen.

It’s a picture.

The angle tells him it was taken from outside the barracks, the photographer must’ve stood really close to the doorway. Y/N blocks off König’s head but even then it’s obvious that they’re kissing, based on the posture of their bodies.

He stares at the picture, trying to coordinate his racing thoughts.

Who took it? He asks himself barely putting the first few moments after parting lips with Atom together. But then he remembers, there was a marine.

He looks at Horangi, who watches him closely, his sunglasses on his head for once.

König doesn’t know what he should say, if he should explain, how his friend was even thinking about gay people- or in his case bisexual people- but he doesn’t even get the opportunity to open his mouth, because a sudden shout can be heard coming from the left corridor that leads to the gym.

“What the hell, Jackson- grab him!”

The group of KorTac operators all turn their heads, the shout clearly setting off some alarm bells. With various levels of interest, they make their way toward the gym, trying to find out what is going on.

König follows in a slight daze, still holding onto Horangi’s phone.

When they arrive, they can’t see shit at first because the room entrance is blocked by several marines standing in the doorway. Shouts and grunts can be heard from inside.

Someone yelps: "Fuck man, it was just a joke- stop it-!"

König’s eyes go wide when he hears Atom's voice- his tone is furious: "Let me show you what I understand as a joke, you motherfucker!"

There’s shuffling and several people shout: "Get him off!" "Fuck, how strong is this bastard!" “Calm down, sergeant!"

Due to König’s size he can look over most of the marines who are blocking the doorway and he spots the cause of the spectators; Y/N is on top of a marine, holding him in some type of gi choke, while four others try to pull him off the guy.

König recognizes the marine’s face immediately, even when he’s all bloody. It’s the man from the hallway and he understands what’s going on.

He tries to push through the crowd, calling out the sergeant’s name.

“Atom, calm down!”

He manages to make it through and rushes to them.

“Atom, let him go. You’re going to kill him”, he says and to everyone’s surprise, Y/N stops struggling as soon as he hears the Austrian’s voice. They pull him off of the guy.

“König”, he mutters and it sounds almost... relieved?

E/c meets blue. His eyes wander to the white band-aid on Atom’s neck. He gulps.

“Whatever he said, it’s not worth it. Just calm down, he’s an idiot.”

The marine with the bloody nose and face grunts, obviously not liking the insult but he knows better than retorting especially because Atom’s still in close proximity, turning to look down at him with a death stare.

The sergeant seems to contemplate König’s words for a bit. The tension and fury in his body haven’t left yet, he can tell based on the way he clenches his fists.

“That bastard-” Atom begins in a low voice, when suddenly their team leader’s voice comes from the hallway: “What the fuck is going on here?!”

König looks back, his eyes meet Stiletto’s who gives him a thumbs up and he nods.

The murmurs of the people around them stop immediately.

Majka parts the spectating crowd like Moses and he looks at the men in front of him, scrutinizing Atom and then the marine on the ground who’s holding his bleeding nose. He glances at König.

“Atom.” His voice is stern. “Go to my office and wait for me there, right now.”

The sergeant looks at him, his expression grim. “Sir-”

“RIGHT NOW!” Majka isn’t taking any of his bullshit today, he’s dead serious.

Atom looks at König for a moment and then turns and walks out of the room, his head high as he passes the onlookers.

The RS team leader turns around to face the gawking marines.

“Do you have nothing to do?” he growls. They mutter something and he just looks at the door. “Fuck off!”

The KorTac operators watch as they begin to filter out of the gym, the four marines who tried to pull Atom off of their guy also begin to move, one of them helps the bloodied man up but Majka points at him.

“Major Briggs wants to see your ass.”

The marine’s eyes go wide. He stammers a “Yes, sir!” and then hurries out of the room.

When the only people in the room are from KorTac, Majka sighs deeply and wipes his forehead. He looks at König.

“I don’t give a shit about your or anyone else’s sexual preferences. You like what you like, I don’t care but I’m telling you if anyone gives you shit-” the team leader looks at all of them, “tell me or Ridgeback. We’ll handle it. And if any of you have some dumbass opinions about someone’s sexuality, I’ll make sure to beat your ass straight, understood?”

König feels relief wash over him even after being put in the spotlight.

“Yessir!” they all shout and Hutch whistles loudly. “Awe, you care about us!”

Majka clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Yes, I do.”

They laugh and Conor shouts from the back: “Even about the lunatic?”

Their team leader rolls his eyes. “Even him. And now buzz off.”

He makes a shoo-shoo gesture and they file out into the hallway, König following behind the Serbian and Stiletto.

Zeus and Aksel joke around with Majka but he just flips them off and then leaves in the direction of his office. The others slowly make their way to the barracks, talking about what had just occurred.

The Austrian lingers behind the group, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the whole development of the last 15 minutes. Horangi seems to have realized that as he slows down to walk beside him.

“You okay?” he asks him. König shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “The marine- he took the photo.”

His friend nods. “Yeah, I guessed that...” He remains quiet for a while.

“So... Are you guys together then? Did you tame Atom without telling us?” The Korean shows a teasing smile towards the end.

König sighs deeply, the anxious knot in his stomach grows. “No. He just kissed me out of nowhere. He completely surprised me.”

Horangi tilts his head, eyeing him closely, trying to figure out how far he can prod. “So you’re not...?” he trails off.

Ah, fuck it.

“No, I am bi”, he states roughly, louder than he intended. The two KorTac operators in front of them turn around. “What does that mean?” Zero asks.

“He goes for both ladies and gents”, Klaus explains.

Zero nods thoughtfully. “I see. No mercy for anyone, makes sense.”

König looks at Horangi and they exchange eye contact.

His friend bursts out laughing, making more heads turn in their group.

“What?” Zero asks and Klaus just shakes his head, patting his shoulder. König can’t stop himself from smiling either, Zero’s answer was just perfect.

The anxiety in his chest slowly starts to disappear. Yeah, fuck it.

It isn’t his first coming out and he has good friends in KorTac. Worst case scenario, he’ll use the knife skills he has perfected over the last few months with Atom’s training to silence someone. His smile drops.

Atom.

Will he get a disciplinary meeting for beating up the marine?

König knows the sergeant has been warned several times about his behaviour. But Majka’s words from before... He knows that Y/N didn’t just beat the guy for no reason. Will they take that into account?

He doesn’t know and now the anxiety is back.

They reach the barracks and the women split with a “See you later, losers!” from them. König contemplates whether he should follow the others or go to Majka’s office to intercept Atom.

To be honest, he doesn’t really want to do the latter. He hasn’t talked to the sergeant in days and although he had a lot of time, he still hasn’t found the words he could say to him.

He knows they should address whatever that kiss meant but...

He just doesn’t know. Whether Y/N is serious or just toying with him. If he is, König doesn’t know if he would be able to deal with that truth. He feels someone’s eyes on him and he turns to his side, where Horangi is watching him.

“Are you going to talk with Atom about what just happened?” he asks, keeping his voice low this time. But he doesn’t have to worry because the others are walking off, disappearing around the corner.

König bites his lips. “I don’t know... Should I?”

Horangi looks at him baffled. “Why not?” he asks almost incredulously.

“We don’t usually talk”, he mutters fidgeting with the seam of his mask. His friend’s eyebrows almost disappear in his hairline. “So you do what...? Just fight all the time without a peep?”

He clicks his tongue. “No, I mean we just don’t... talk about anything serious. We don’t even do small talk. I have no clue what he’s doing in his off time, where he goes, what he likes to do. He just doesn’t seem like the guy for it.”

Horangi hums, understanding what he’s getting at. “You think it’ll be awkward?”

He nods. Yeah, that’s exactly it. He just can’t picture the conversation in his head.

‘Hey, so why did you kiss me out of the blue? Were you attracted to me all this time or was that just a stupid joke to throw me off my game? Because if so I’m probably going to go dig a hole outside at the obstacle course and kill myself in it. And why did you beat that guy up? Is it because he caught your joke and you’re a raging homophobe or because you wanted to protect your or my reputation?’ Ja, eher nicht.

He doesn’t know how Atom would react. Yes, he did get to know the sergeant better in the last few months, he got to know some of his personality and his quirks. But they’re mostly related to fighting.

König can discern when Y/N is in a good or a bad mood in their training fights.

If he’s in high spirits, the significant grin on his face is almost up to his ears and there’s a glint in his e/c eyes, his eyebrows raised. He trash talks more than usual and almost playfully strikes at him, a skip in his movements and sometimes it’s almost like he’s dancing.

The killing intent in his attacks is there but it’s more like he’s a cat playing with a mouse before biting it dead.

Unlike when he’s in a bad mood. Then there’s no amusement in his eyes, even though he keeps grinning. But the smirk combined with the furrowed line of his eyebrows is unsettling.

Y/N’s posture is usually an indication that he’s pissed. If he is, there’s a certain way he holds himself, the center of his balance low, shoulders tight.

His attacks are ruthless and precise and it always leaves König wondering if this is the time when he finally gets stabbed or cut. Those fights prove to him that there’s some truth behind Atom’s nut job reputation.

More than a few times he has witnessed the other’s temper when Y/N abruptly decides to end their fighting with a quick feint.

“It’s getting fucking boring.” And the next thing he knows a fist is smashing into the mat or wall right next to his head.

But usually, Atom feels better after sparring for a while, as seen by his walking away while whistling, even if he was pissed at the beginning of the fight. As he said, the sergeant seems to release his pent-up stress when they exchange blows.

So yeah... König can read Atom’s mood to a certain extent but there’s not much he knows about his personality besides that. In general, he doesn’t really know the man.

He’s aware of Atom’s exceptional combat skills, whether with a knife or a rifle and on ops he can count on him to carry on even through hell but more than that...

Not in a billion years did he think that he could potentially be attracted to him or other men in general. Okay, he was even questioning women, based on the lack of a reaction when they visited a strip club once on Hutch’s birthday.

But that’s beside the point. He just... König got to know Y/N’s fists throughout the last few months but other than that the man, his thoughts and feelings, they’re all an enigma.

Horangi stares at the pondering Austrian who looks hesitant and he could practically feel the anxiety radiate off of him.

But the Korean knows. He knows something König hasn’t realized yet and basically every one of the others knows as well, after all, they met Atom way earlier than he did.

“I think you should go have a heart-to-heart talk with Atom.”

The tall giant stares down at him.

“Yeah?”

He rolls his eyes and slaps his shoulders.

“I’m telling you there’s this raging sexual tension since you two met and I and the others are so fucking tired of dealing with it so yeah, please go talk about it, for fuck’s sake.”

König pulls a face not believing a word he just said but Horangi can’t see it.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. Wish me luck.”

He begins to walk and he looks back at his friend. The other operator just shows him the middle finger. “Go get your boy!”

“Fick dich!” he replies over his shoulder waving him off.

“Mi-chin saeggi!”

The curses of his friend in his ears, König breathes in deeply and makes his way slowly to Majka’s office. He waits in front of the door for a while unsure whether Atom is still in there with his team leader.

Two minutes pass. Then five. Then ten.

He’s about to finally get a grip and knock when the door swings open and he stands tall, hoping to see Ato- and it’s Ridgeback.

“Jesus! König what the hell are you doing standing so close in front of the door?!” she yells surprised and he apologizes immediately, backing up from the doorframe. “Sorry! I wanted to uh- is Atom still in there?”

She looks him up and down, and an understanding expression grows on her face.

“No, Majka dismissed him already. He should be in the infirmary, he’s supposed to apologize to Mr. fuckface.”

König tilts his head, not quite sure if she’s meaning what he thinks she means. “The marine he beat up”, she clarifies.

“Ah, yeah. That makes sense...” he says a bit flustered. She’s about to leave when she halts and looks up at him, her eyes soft now.

“König, what that guy did? Taking pictures and spreading them around, making hateful comments? I’m not saying that Atom’s reaction was right but I can understand him. If someone did this to my wife... Majka and I are in agreement. And the higher-ups are too. We have a zero-tolerance policy for shit like that and if it happens again, come to us. We’ll handle it. Gladly.”

She smiles dangerously at the end and he nods slowly, a bit taken aback that she just casually dropped her marriage status.

“I’ll see you later, König.”

“Thank you, Ridgeback”, he says after her and she waves as she walks off.

5 minutes later he finally comes across Atom. Not in the infirmary though.

He wanted to take a quick trip to the toilet before the slightly nerve-wracking conversation when he walks into the bathroom and spots the sergeant with his back to him.

He freezes when he sees him and for a few seconds they’re quiet, the only sound is the closing door behind him.

He takes a deep breath and finally speaks:

“Atom...? Can we talk? About the uh- the photo and... that fight just now?”

Y/N is standing at the sink, cleaning up the blood on his knuckles with a towel. He turns to glance at the Austrian. "König", he acknowledges his presence before continuing to swipe at the back of his hands.

His demeanor is unlike his usual self. His posture is slightly hunched over, not standing tall as usual. The usual confidence - Conor calls it arrogance - was nowhere to be seen.

König looks at him, suddenly unsure if it really was a good idea to follow Horangi’s words.

At this moment, he’s not sure whether Atom’s agitated because he can’t see his face. But the tension in his body is telling him yes.

“That fight wasn’t just about the photo, right?”, he asks slowly, watching the sergeant with eagle eyes.

Y/N halts, stopping his mindless wiping of the blood. "Oh? Do I sense some brain cells from you König?", he jokes half-heartedly still standing with his back towards him.

König bites his lip, not liking the tone of the other’s words.

He’s already anxious as is and he feels like the Atom he’s facing right now is unknown territory. He almost feels like they’re back to zero like after their first fight when König believed he was a fucking psychopath. The operator standing at the sink feels like a stranger.

He hides his hands in his pockets, clenching and unclenching them into fists in an attempt to relax.

He waits for the h/c haired man to talk but Y/N doesn’t.

He takes a deep breath and asks quietly: “Why did you kiss me?”

The Austrian looks at the other man, he sees his back muscles tense and Atom puts down both hands on the edge of the sink, looking down. König waits with bated breath for an answer. Instead, he gets a question back.

“Did it disgust you?”

Y/N almost spats the words, they’re dripping with hostility and subconsciously, König clutches the hilt of his switch knife.

“No”, he says carefully but it seems like the sergeant misunderstands his tone and he growls: “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying!” he responds earnestly. Atom looks him in the eyes, then he stares at his hips, realizing something.

“You brought your knife?”, he asks in a low tone, his voice on edge.

König can feel the atmosphere in the room shift immediately and based on the furrow of Y/N’s eyebrows it’s not good.

“I always have it with me”, he explains, “just in case.” You taught me that he thinks. “Just in case, huh... Take it out.”

He looks at him baffled.

“No, why-” Y/N takes a step in his direction, his hand on the sheathe of his Atom Splitter at his leg. “Take it out, König.”

Fuck, he thinks. This isn’t how he expected the conversation to go. Fuck Horangi, man, fuck him.

He does as he’s told, activating the blade and Atom unsheathes his knife, twirling it in that familiar fashion while his significant grin forms on his lips. A shiver runs down König’s spine.

“Can we not do this right now?”, he pleads, holding the knife at his side, clearly not wanting to fight the sergeant. But Atom doesn’t care. He never seemed to care before either. He just attacks. Relentlessly.

By the first blow, König realizes that the other man is deadly serious about it this time. His mask gets cut, and the blade barely misses his cheek. The knot in his stomach coils.

If he’s not careful, he’s going to die. He can see the bloodlust in the e/c eyes.

König pushes Y/N’s blade away with his own. He put a lot of force behind it but the sergeant is unfazed, he attacks from a new angle, stabbing at König’s torso.

He blocks the knife but Atom gets a hit in, punching his jaw.

The bathroom is filled with pained grunts and the sound of punches but all König can hear is his messy heartbeat as adrenaline is pumped through his veins.

What ticked him off? I didn’t want this. That thought spirals in his head. I don’t want this.

Atom kicks his knee, making him falter.

Next thing he knows, he’s kneeling and Y/N’s knife is pressed against his throat. Even through the fabric of his mask, he can feel the coldness on his skin. They both pant. König looks up at the sergeant, his face is blank, the smirk gone.

Atom grabs his hair through the fabric at the back of his head, pulling it back harshly. He gasps alarmed, dropping his knife, and he searches the e/c eyes. They stare down at him, pupils blown wide.

“Y/N”, he whispers. The man begins to smile ominously. “You make my blood boil, König.”

His face changes when he hears those words.

The nervousness of having that knife to his throat when Atom’s eyes look dead like this is still fluttering in his chest. But there’s also something else. A knot forms in his lower stomach and his eyes land on the white band-aid on the sergeant’s throat.

Y/N continues: “Only you get me this excited... Makes me wanna fight all day long. What am I supposed to do?” He tilts his head.

König gulps and watches with eagle eyes how the h/c haired man uses his blade to lift the seam of his mask and flip it over his head, exposing his scarred face. A burst of anxiety and self-consciousness rushes through his veins as those e/c eyes study his appearance. A glint appears in them.

“Do you like our fights?” Atom asks, his voice slightly hoarse as he presses the blade to König’s cheek, tracing one of the pale scars with it.

The tone of his voice is light but he can feel the significance of that question, he sees the expectant look in Y/N’s eyes.

He nods. “Yeah”, he mutters slowly, staring up at him, “I do.”

Atom’s brows lift and his smile widens, showing the white of his teeth and his gums. “Really?”, he prods. He nods again.

He can see Y/N debate something, emotions flit across his face that he hasn’t ever seen before on him and the knot of anxiety in his chest unfurls, making space for something else. Hope, anticipation.

“Atom...” he begins and Y/N takes this as his cue to kiss König without hesitation. It takes him by surprise again but this time he’s prepared to breathe through his nose and he actually responds to the kiss.

Atom’s grip on his hair is tight and he holds his head in place as he practically devours König. The intensity makes him gasp and Y/N uses it to push his tongue into his mouth, exploring every inch mercilessly without allowing any pushback.

The sergeant kisses like he fights. Aggressively and intensely. He loves it. If he were touched carefully at this very moment, he would probably dislike it. After all, the ferocity is what he always enjoys about their fights.

König allows his eyes to close, leaning into the sensation, slowly getting lost, when he feels a sharp pain and tastes iron in his mouth. Atom fucking bit his tongue!

He grunts in protest but the other man doesn’t care at all. They part, their breaths mingling and Y/N groans: “You taste so fucking good, König.”

He looks up at him, seeing the intense desire burning in the e/c eyes and certainty washes over him.

He pushes himself off the ground, forcing the sergeant to let go of his hair. He towers over him and for a second they just stare at each other before König moves, his hands pushing Y/N back until he collides with the bathroom wall.

He dips his head and their lips connect again, the taste of iron intermingling. He can hear the clatter of Atom’s knife on the ground before two hands touch him, igniting a fire wherever they roam his skin.

Y/N tugs and prods at his clothes, pulling his shirt out of his pants to stick his hands underneath, and in the next second König can feel fingernails dig into his back. He growls and the sergeant smiles into their kiss. “’re always so aggressive-” König complains breathlessly.

Atom snorts. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.” His lips trail down his neck, biting and sucking and König presses his thigh between Y/N’s legs in response, getting a low groan out of the other man.

It sends a spark through his body and his mouth twitches as Atom grinds against his thigh. “Y/N-” he warns but he gets interrupted when the flush of a toilet can be heard.

Atom stops moving, his hand halting mid-air, only inches away from König’s belt buckle. “It’s the women’s bathroom”, he says, trying to calm the Austrian down before touching his belt. But it sobers König up a bit and he leans back, stopping his hands.

“We should probably stop here. It would be a bit awkward if someone walks in.”

Y/N clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Let them watch.”

He smirks and they look at each other. König’s hair is absolutely dishevelled, his face red from their make-out session. Atom doesn’t look any better, his eyes still hold the glimmering desire.

He breathes out slowly and begins to smile.

“We should continue elsewhere.” He licks his lips, the bloody taste still in his mouth but unlike before this day he likes it.

Atom follows his tongue’s movement with eagle eyes. “Yeah, we definitely should.” He pauses for a second, disappointment evident on his face.

“I can’t right now though.” He sounds grumpy.

König tilts his head, confused, staring down at him. “Why?”

“I have to clean the bathrooms as punishment.”

He blinks and follows Y/N’s eyes toward the mop in the corner.

“Will you help me?” The sergeant bats his eyelashes like the women who try to flirt with König at the local bars. He laughs, walking backward, putting his hands up.

“I just remembered I have something to do.”

E/c eyes darken. “Come on! Be good and help your boyfriend!”

His heart leaps. “Oh, so we’re boyfriends now? I don’t remember saying yes to this agreement.”

Y/N glowers at him, picking up his knife from the ground.

“It was a joke!” he protests but the man strides up to him, pointing the blade at his throat. At this point, it’s getting old.

“Say it.”

He snorts. Atom stares up at him, his dead expression suddenly looking less intimidating and more so somewhat adorable. He tilts his head, provocatively.

“What?”

“You know what.”

König grins and grabs Y/N’s hand holding the knife.

“I’ll let you be my boyfriend.”

Atom only raises an eyebrow and he guides the sergeant’s hand and knife away from his throat before dipping down again and stealing a kiss from his lips. A soft one this time. One that makes König’s heart swell and flutter from happiness.

Y/N closes his eyes, enjoying the moment and they stay closed even after they part. König coughs, smirking.

“Anyways, I can’t help you with the cleaning sorry.”

Atom opens his eyes wide and a breathy indignant laugh escapes him as he watches the Austrian turn around and leave the bathroom whistling, mirroring the many times Y/N did it to him. Payback’s a bitch, he thinks.

“You forgot your knife! König! Come back!” Atom shouts his tone almost pleading but König is already out the door and he laughs and yells over his shoulder:

“You can bring it to me tonight, mein Schatz!”

___

Translations (freely mostly)

Ja, eher nicht - German: “Yes, better not”

Fick dich - German: “Fuck you”

mi-chin saeggi  미친새끼 - Korean: “Crazy son of a bitch”

mein Schatz - German: “my dear, my love” lit. “my treasure”

[creatrixanimi]

as a submas fan who recently got into hazbin I would absolutely love to hear your au thoughts!!!!

Ok ill have to try to write out everything i've got so far!

So the original premise was that ingo and emmet got mixed up and ingo got sent to hell instead of emmet as an oopsie (emmet didnt do anything overly bad in life but heaven/hell stuff is so arbitrary they probably just made a weird decision somewhere down the line lol) but i thinkkk i have switched it to Ingo gets sent to hell because Volo successfully sacrificed him in a ritual and emmet, while dying in the same place, wasnt actually part of it so normal rules still applied to him. Ingo's soul is all messed up and corrupted because of the ritual which caused his amnesia. Emmet finds out about Ingo being sent to hell after he cant find ingo anywhere in heaven and rightfully gets upset at heaven's lack of action because he see's ingo's situation as a huge injustice. So Emmet's whole thing is basically just causing problems until he finds his way to hell and reunites with ingo.

Ingo's situation is where the fun is lol. So he wakes up after spawning in hell and is just a total odd-ball. Half because he doesnt remember ANYTHING from before he died. Maybe not even his name? Which is weird. And also because he's a total sweetheart. No one can figure out why he's even there because it's not like he's a hellborn so he must have done something to end up in hell. After a brief period of wandering around aimlessly, Lady Sneasler, who is an overlord in this au, kinda adopts him and takes him places because she thinks hes so charming and adorable. Melli is just a guy that hangs around lady sneasler even though he acts like he doesnt like her? She's the poison overlord (kinda like an aqua tofana situation for sneasler) and melli is a poison guy. So they kinda just fall into the same group. So they both become friends of Ingo. After a while of character introductions and some brief fun stuff like Sneasler getting Ingo to do all kinds of fun stuff he probably wouldnt do on his own (like the clubbing thing lmao) Ingo has his first blackout, probably triggered by some sort of memory thing, and its kinda terrifying. When he has those blackouts he shifts into his full demon form and his power goes haywire causing a lot of destruction. Its a huge shock because normally regular sinner demons dont really have much in terms of inherent power and also because Ingo cant actually use his powers while conscious so there was no sign of him being capable of that level of chaos. Anyway, after he has his little blackout his body sustains damage from exerting that kind of power and is kinda down for the count for a while afterwards. His story from there on is figuring out what is going on with him and trying to stop those blackouts before it either destroys him or a good chunk of the city, whichever comes first lmao. Sneasler is kinda just there to reign in ingo and melli she just loves a good show lol Melli is kinda where i wanna connect it more to the existing hazbin characters/storyline. Because this is lowkey more of a crossover. He accidentally becomes charlie's new pet project which no one is a fan of 😂 melli did not volunteer for this at all but his character arc is learning to make friends and care about other people after pushing people away for so long because he's a huge ball of self-hatred. He's kinda perfect for the "i can fix him" thing the hotel is all about. SO he's stuck learning to become a better person and being the narrative connection back to the core of the actual show lmao. Not sure if they ever even stay at the hotel. Maybe ingo and melli could flip flop between sneasler's place and the hotel. They dont actually have places of their own so its one or the other. In terms of intra character interactions i think its like this (this is prolly set post-s1 so no sir pentious): Charlie: thinks ingo is nice, wants to fix melli and is working with ingo to do this. Her relationship w sneasler is similar to rosie in my head. Alastor: finds Ingo somewhat threatening because Ingo can read him like a book. would otherwise find him pleasant but because he has a hard time keeping up his mysterious scary image around him he avoids him if possible. Ingo really likes him because "he reminds him of someone but he cant put a finger on it", will teleport away if melli is in the vicinity, finds sneasler charming. would gossip with her 10/10. When emmet shows up they try to kill each other which is entirely unsurprising. Everyone else in the hotel is more or less "theres something not right about that ingo guy but he's nice enough i guess", "FUCK melli get him OUT OF HERE", and "lady sneasler is chill" and when emmet shows up theyre just like "oh this explains why he likes alastor so much. Now theres TWO OF THEM." I would like to develop the other character's opinions on the situation more but this is getting. so so long. misc other character stuff: 

Lady sneasler still has sneasels, usually 3 of them. they just have tiny wings and horns but otherwise look like regular sneasels. No clue what their deal is they just exist. 

Rosie and Sneasler get along great. they are kinda similar but fill different power-niches in hell. 

Rosie finds ingo SO charming. She loves his odd vintage flair despite literally dying like. in the 2020s lol. He's very popular in cannibal town because he's a train freak and edwardians love trains. He takes the cute edwardian cannibal kiddies on train rides.

im not really sure what goes on with emmet in this au i just know he's having a shit time of it and eventually finds ingo. I havent decided if he actually falls or just leaves heaven because it sucks and no one cares enough to stop him. Also only slightly related but i actually have a voice-canon for him which is will wood which works great for this au lmao. Also emmet plays killer jazz piano and alastor is so mad about it because its actually good.

emmet and alastor dont really have all that much in common besides the smile thing but its just enough for them to beef over it. really its a similar feud as alastor and lucifer, alastor sees emmet as a threat both because of his power and the smile thing and emmet doesnt like that ingo is following alastor around like a lost puppy. emmet is def way less mysterious, he's just pissed that his brother is suffering even if ingo doesnt seem to notice his own problems.

volo doesnt really come back up in this au because he's still alive. just imagine that akari is kicking his ass in the living world or something lmao. 

i cant decide if pokemon exist in this universe. It would be funny tho to have chandelure exist in a world where souls are like whole ass people who can die for a second time. worlds nicest guy's pet lamp eats people until theyre perma-dead for breakfast.

Elesa (and probably also drayden and iris depening on your headcanons) are very sad :( i like emmet/elesa so it makes it extra hard on elesa tho. there is no solution for this.

not sure what the arceus situation is here. hazbin as far as i know doesnt have a canon god design so for all we know god could be a dumbass llama i guess. its doesnt really matter besides stylizing volo's ritual

[prfctparis]

I’d Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) CH4

AO3 Link / One / Prev / Next / Masterlist

summary:

Danny Fenton was adopted at age ten, with little to no memories about his former family. At age fourteen, he died yet lived and those memories began to return. He didn’t do anything about those memories – didn’t plan to, at least not yet – but then he got captured by the GIW, saved by his friends and someone who might be his sister who he only somewhat remembered, and taken to Gotham to, apparently, his biological father for safety until further notice.

Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.

a/n:

i am so sorry for such the long wait!! but here’s ch4 finally lmao hope you guys enjoy :)

warnings for entire fic:

canon-typical violence of the DC variety; angst; memory loss/repressed memories; do i need to say major character death(s) or is that just a given for this fandom; questionable parenting tho every parent is trying to do good & care for the kids; implied/referenced past child abuse bc of the child assassin backgrounds; pls tell me if i missed something

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: Alfred tells Bruce of Danny’s injuries, but nothing in explicit detail

CHAPTER FOUR —

Tonight did not go the way Bruce thought it would.

The day started out peaceful enough. For his family, that was. Tim had stayed the night after patrol rather than heading back to his place in the city, so he and Damian, both half asleep still, had gotten into a snarky quarrel about cereal bowls, of all things. Apparently there was favorite bowl; it was the perfect size and depth. Damian woke up first, grabbed it, and Tim became grouchy when he discovered that.

Bruce had then taken the bowl away when they wouldn’t stop arguing about it, handed it to Duke who had entered the kitchen at that exact moment, and continued on to get a plate of French toast that Alfred had made and a large mug of coffee. He dutifully ignored his sons’ complaints while his other son just went along with what had just happened.

Then Alfred took Duke and Damian to school, Stephanie appeared out of nowhere to drag Tim into helping her study for college finals that were coming up, and Cass regularly sent him pictures of Hong Kong as a means to let him know every thing was going smoothly for the case that had lead her back over there. Bruce called Dick during his lunch hour at WE, tried to get out of an afternoon meeting only for Lucious and Tim (who was now only a partial shareholder instead of the majority shareholder, since that went back to Bruce) to drag him to it anyway, and told Jason that he might have found something to aid him in one of his cases through e-mail because, once again, Jason had blocked his number.

Bruce had no idea what warranted it this time, and he was hesitant to ask.

All in all, it was a normal day. He might even describe it as a good day. So, of course, he expected patrol to be hell. Maybe a breakout of some sort; an intense hostage situation; one of his children getting majorly injured again; a near death experience or two. Possibly more than one of those, or even all of them. That was what Bruce Wayne – Batman – expected.

Not this.

Not Damian having two secret, older, biological siblings.

Not a group of kids in their late teens obviously on the run, brave faced but scared.

Not a daughter finding him on a random roof on the verge of a panic attack, brave façade crumbling with the fear her brothers weren’t okay.

Not a son no older than eighteen having been vivisected by someone Bruce has yet to find out, and warranting Alfred to perform emergency surgery on him.

After Damian, Bruce swore he was done. No more kids for him; the children and pseudo-children he had were enough. The amount of love he had for them was immeasurable, and with them – because of them – Bruce had a mountain of happiness in his life among all the other shitty and dark valleys of depression and torment.

Now he’s learned Talia had lied yet again.

First, about having a miscarriage back when she had been pregnant with Damian. Second, about how before that, from their first meeting five years prior, she already had twins.

His twins.

Damian had also lied, yet he had been told to do so and promised to by his older sister herself. And he had no idea why.

It occurred to him, then, that Jason knew as well. He recognized Damian’s sister on the roof.

It hurt to know that they knew yet didn’t tell him. Everything about the current situation hurt, if he was to be honest.

“My name is Athanasia al Ghul,” Bruce’s daughter, introduced herself as he helped clean, re-bandage, and stitch her injuries. “My twin– our brother… He was born Dányál al Ghul, but he got adopted when he was ten. Legally, his name is now Daniel Fenton. He goes by Danny most of the time.”

It was surreal. Bruce had to keep himself from questioning her until he got answers – about her, Danny, why Talia never mentioned either of them, why Athanasia told Damian to keep them a secret, what and who they were running from and why, and tens of others. It wasn’t hard to do, but the urge was still there.

Making sure his daughter (he had another daughter) got some much needed medical attention took precedence over that.

For now, he would merely let her speak to him on her own terms.

“Do you have a preferred name you go by?” Bruce asked, because his eldest went by ‘Dick’ and Tim hated it when ‘Timothy’ was used and Steph only let ‘Stephanie’ slide if the person was a stranger and Cass didn’t care one way or another, but she did seem to like when the family used the shortened version of her name more. If Athanasia wanted a specific name or nickname used, he planned to use it.

“My brothers called me ‘Ana’ sometimes,” she said. “Hardly anyone else calls me that, but I won’t mind you do, too.”

Bruce nodded and smiled. He finished bandaging the newly stitched up cut on her thigh as he said, “I will be sure to remember that, then.”

“I still will if you want me to,” Damian spoke up immediately from the other cot he sat on. His foot was propped up and an ice pack laid on his ankle, curtesy of Duke who had brought it over a few minutes ago; he seemed to want to stay, but got dragged away by Jason almost immediately.

What his youngest said took Bruce by surprise. Damian wasn’t the type to use nicknames or shortened versions of names; the exceptions were probably Jon Kent and Maps Mizoguchi. And, now, apparently the twins.

And he offered to.

One corner of her mouth twitched up before she smothered it, going for a neutral expression. Bruce still saw something akin to happiness and relief in her eyes as she nodded. “I wouldn’t mind that at all,” she said, “As long as I can still call you ‘Dames’.”

Damian pressed his lips into a thin line to lessen the size of his smile that he then twisted in a faux frown of annoyance. “If you must.”

Bruce refrained from reacting to that. He knew that Tim tried to call Damian that once, and his youngest son had a very sudden, negative reaction to it. Tim went to Bruce later that day, guilty and frustrated, because he didn’t mean to upset Damian and now they were at odds again; Bruce only got the story out after a spar.

It certainly made some sense now, why he had reacted like that. And also why he was more tolerant of ‘Dami’ than everyone thought he would originally be, back when Dick first started using it.

…A lot of things about Damian made sense now.

Bruce wondered often about how Damian, an apparent only child, grew accustomed to older brothers and a sister rather seamlessly. Well, after he stopped attempting to murder Tim, of course; and after he stopped insisting that he didn’t have siblings, that he was the only blood son and therefore superior than the others.

(He still occasionally pulled the blood son card. More so now to annoy the others, than anything.)

He grew accustomed seamlessly to the others because of Athanasia and Danny. He had always been the youngest. He was used to nagging, protective, annoying older siblings already.

It made Bruce emotional in so many ways.

The next fifteen minutes or so were spent in silence as Bruce finished tending to Athanasia’s wounds. When he got done, he stepped back to give her space as he picked up everything he had used.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked her.

“No,” she said. Athanasia almost sounded confused on why he asked, and Bruce sincerely hoped he imagined it. No one of any age should be confused when asked that. “Thank you, Batman.”

“Of course.”

Footsteps, hesitant and soft, grew close, catching their attentions. The redhead, Wesley ‘Wes’ Weston as he introduced himself as earlier, stopped a few feet away. His posture and the way his hands sat in his pockets said casual, but his muscles were tense and his expression held exhaustion.

“Wesley,” Athanasia said as a greeting.

Wes half smiled. “Hey.”

Bruce frowned a little. “Is everything okay?”

The teenager nodded. “Oh, yeah. Um, the others just want to talk about something as a whole. I came to get Ana.”

Bruce saw Damian straighten just the tiniest bit in his peripheral.

Athanasia began to get out of the cot, but Bruce held out a hand. She froze, so he kept his hand in the air rather than placing it on her shoulder like he was about to. Then, lowered it.

“You need rest. I’m sure the conversation can wait,” Bruce said to them.

Wes shook his head. “It can’t. It’s important.”

“Talking does not require extensive body movement,” Athanasia said. “And I’m sure Wesley is right about the importance. I can rest later.”

“You need rest now.”

Athanasia stared him dead in the eye and got out. She stood in front him, back straight and no sign of discomfort or pain.

She was tall for a girl, he noticed for a second time that night. Maybe a bit taller than Tim, if not the same height, but still shorter than Dick. The way she stood reminded him a lot of Talia, but that defiant look was something Damian definitely learned from her at a young age.

“I’m eighteen – an adult,” she spoke in Arabic, and that fact made his heart hurt. “I know my own limits by now. I will rest later.”

She then pivoted on her feet and walked off. As she passed Wes, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to drag him along. Other than a slight noise of surprise at being forcibly turned around in the opposite direction, the boy didn’t seem that fazed.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed behind the cowl at him as Wesley casually grabbed Athanasia’s hand to remove her grip. Her fingers twitched, almost holding his hand instead, before she pulled away and quickened her pace.

‘Acquaintances’ she said.

Damian huffed. “I don’t like him.”

“Hn.”

Alfred stepped halfway out of the curtained off area and requested his presence. A surge of panic washed over him and he walked over, telling Damian to stay put. Whatever Alfred needed, he hoped it was better than all the negative thoughts now plaguing his mind.

+++

Athanasia ached – for multiple reasons.

The soreness and pain was finally, truly settling in post-fight. With the adrenaline gone, and now able to relax with Danny being taken care of, she was way more aware of what hurt and what didn’t, except for the number areas where Batman had to do stitches. She probably should have asked for Tylenol or Ibuprofen. She didn’t.

Then, there was Damian. Her baby brother. She said that he was still short earlier, and he was, but he had also grown so much. Watching him from afar when she visited Gotham kept that fact from settling in until now.

He wasn’t the tiny, baby faced nine year old anymore. His hair used to be medium brown and wavy, but over the past few years it’s gotten a few shades darker and now the strands curled like her own. His limbs were lanky as he began to enter his teenage years, the baby fat was disappearing, and he was much taller than a nine year old. He stood and had the mannerisms and forming attitude of any other 13 year old.

Dányál was whole entirely different type of ache from realizing Damian had grown and the pain of her injuries. It was tangled up in anger and fear. At the GIW and Ra’s, and what they did to him.

She almost felt ten again, following the servant in the shadows to the Lazarus Pits. Except this time, there were no pools of bright green liquid to heal him to assure survival. Just the talented Penny-One, Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of Wayne Manor and doctor of the Batcave and a pseudo grandfather to many.

And her father… He was kind and gentle in a way she hadn’t expected. Yes, Jason said he was a good man, but she honestly never was able to picture it. Batman? The man who took down criminals nightly? Gentle? It was jarring, but not completely unwelcome.

It hurt knowing he was like that, and Mother kept them at the League of Assassins. It hurt that she now knew Jason spoke the truth, and Mother knew too, and even after Ra’s ran a sword through her son’s chest, she still kept them there. That she didn��t have her servant take her and Damian, too, and rather acted as if Dányál had truly died.

It hurt because she still didn’t believe it. Obviously he trained with the other members of the family, but all Athanasia was able to picture were the training tactics and punishments of the League. Batman trained with them, years ago, after all. Who’s to say he didn’t use the same ones on his kids?

And then there was Wesley. No one knew about Wesley. Not even the rest of Team Phantom. She even kept herself from thinking about it until the mission of finding and saving her brother was done.

Manson and Foley were the first members of the team she’d met – technically. Wesley Weston wasn’t a member when she first visited Amity Park and met him. They grew close; then Athanasia panicked and ran away left town, only to come back when the GIW took over. She felt bad for leaving him, truly, and she didn’t understand why he didn’t seem to be as angry as she thought he’d be.

There were so many aching emotions within her. It was almost overwhelming. Athanasia wanted to rest; she knew her father was right that she needed to. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Gray and Wesley needed to get back to Amity Park to get Ellie, and then figure out a way to get to Jazz Fenton, or at least somehow inform her of everything that happened.

They needed to figure out what, exactly, they were going to tell Batman about Dányál and literally everything else.

Athanasia sat down where the others had gathered – far enough away so they wouldn’t be heard, but still seen – and made short eye contact with Wesley when he sat in the only free spot beside her. They both looked away at the same time.

Gray and Manson had their own share of fresh bandages, but hardly the amount Athanasia had. Foley had one. A lucky shuriken cut his bicep and an ectoblast singed the bottom hem of his shirt, but other than that he was fine yet exhausted. Wesley was the only one injury free.

A pack of water bottles sat on the edge of the table. Everyone already had one when she got to the table. Foley was the closest to the pack, and he took one out and rolled it over to her without a word. There was a bottle of migraine medicine by Manson’s elbow where she was laying her head down.

“So,” Gray began to start the conversation. “Batman. I thought you were taking us to your dad?”

“I was, but I knew he would bring us to Batman anyway, so when I spotted him I decided to cut out the middle man.”

“Are you sure we can trust him?” asked Foley.

Athanasia nodded. “As a member of the Justice League, I fully believe Batman is trustworthy.”

“Exactly,” he sighed. “He’s a JL member – a founding member. In hindsight, it’s a good thing they have never visited Amity because that would risk any of them getting possessed, but not one member has checked on our town.”

“Well, actually,” interrupted Gray, “there was that British dude in a trench coat, remember? He smoked a lot. I think he mentioned a…Justice League Dark, or something? It was two or so years ago, so I’m not really sure.”

“Oh him!” Foley started laughing. “Oh, Ancients, how did I forget? Danny scared the shit out of him!”

Manson didn’t move, but she did snort amusedly. “That was hilarious.”

“So… What are we telling Batman?” Wesley asked when the laughter died down.

“Not everything,” said Manson. She finally lifted her head, and placed her hands around her eyes to block out some of the light. “For one, we need to figure out if he knows of the Anti-Ecto Act. We need to explain what’s happening in Amity Park, too. As for everything else… Danny should be the one to explain his powers and everything. Not even Athanasia knows it all.”

It was true. It annoyed her. She knew he had to have gotten the powers somehow, but Danny’s friends were tight lipped about it. All she knew was that Danny had ghost-like abilities, could change his looks, and also had whatever an ‘ice core’ was. She shouldn’t know about that last one, but she overheard Foley and Manson talking one night.

By eavesdropping she had hoped things would begin to make sense regarding her twin’s powers. Rather, it did the exact opposite.

“Batman will dig for answers,” Athanasia warned them. “He’s a detective – a good one, possibly the best in the world.”

Manson frowned.

“Then we give him enough info to keep him happy until Danny wakes up,” Foley said. “Then, he can make the decision on telling Batman everything else.”

“What about the others?” asked Gray. She looked at Athanasia. “Batman, sure. But does that include Robin? I saw you with them both earlier.”

“Robin is as trustworthy as Batman. All of the Bats and Birds in Gotham are, including Nightwing in Blüdhaven.”

“You sound so sure for someone who doesn’t know them personally,” Manson said.

Athanasia raised an eyebrow. “I never said I didn’t.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You never said you did, either.”

“Sam has a point,” Foley said.

“About what?”

“You never said if you did or didn’t know these vigilantes personally. You said you were taking us to your dad, and we’re here instead.”

Athanasia’s brows knitted together. “I said my father would have brought us to him, anyway. Why does that matter?”

“Because you said nothing about him in the first place.”

“Why does that matter?” she repeated. “Where do you think we would end up taking Dányál? Certainly not Arkham.”

“I don’t know, but it would be nice if you told us things,” he said, tone turning frustrated. “Like, who was the old dude you wanted to avoid?”

“That isn’t important right now,” she forced out. She knew she had to tell them about Ra’s, but she planned to do that later.

Manson scoffed as Wesley hesitantly said, “Well, no. It kinda is.”

“You mood completely changed when Tucker mentioned him on comms,” Gray said.

Athanasia drew in a deep breath through her nose. “That is not,” she spoke slow and low, “important right now.”

“Like hell–” Gray began.

“Why does it matter right now?” she stressed. “Can we focus on what is happening right now?”

“Whoever the fuck the old man is who came out of the room where they kept our best friend is isn’t important?” Manson asked incredulously.

“For now, yes!”

“How?! That makes no sense!”

“It really doesn’t make sense,” Wesley agreed, with Gray nodding along in agreement.

“C’mon, Ana, just–”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped at the other boy.

Taken aback, Foley frowned. “But Wes calls you that?”

Athanasia shrugged. “I knew him before you guys,” she admitted after a beat of silence.

His eyes, along with Manson’s and Gray’s, went to Wesley.

“It’s true,” he said with a nod.

Gray leaned her forearms on the table. “So, did you know about the assassin thing?”

“No.” Wesley’s tone wasn’t exactly clipped, but it was clear that he wasn’t happy.

Athanasia held back a grimace.

Gray’s eyes flicked between them, and a spark of realization flashed in her eyes. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ and she nodded slowly. “Well,” she said, somewhat awkwardly, “have fun talking that out.”

She crossed her arms and shifted in her seat. “Can we get back on track? Please.”

“That old guy–”

“Say it one more fucking time, Manson, I swear,” she snapped.

“Or what?”

“I will make that splitting headache of yours literal.”

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Everyone looked in that direction, and Athanasia was mildly surprised to see her father’s most recent foster kid standing there with a silver tray of sandwiches. He wore a t-shirt and basketball shorts and shoes, and had on a the helmet from the Signal suit. She knew he wore a domino mask earlier, so he must have switched one for the other when everyone else was too busy to notice.

“Athanasia, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, that’s me. You’re Signal.”

Signal – or rather, Duke Thomas – nodded as well. “Yep. Hood said you guys might be hungry so he snuck off and made these real quick.” He set the tray on the table.

“Oh,” she said, still a little surprised but pleased, because honestly Jason made some of the best food. “Thank you, Signal.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Wait, Hood?” Foley choked out. “As in, the Red Hood?”

When she and Signal both nodded, Manson sarcastically said, “Oh, so the one you do know personally is the Ancients-damned crime lord. Great.”

“Why is a crime lord working with Batman?” Gray questioned.

“He’s a Bat,” Signal told her. “And these days, he’s more an anti-hero.”

“Former crime lord, then,” she said. “That’s suspicious.”

“Not if they’re family,” Wesley said

Athanasia looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Signal just stared at him and didn’t make a sound. When he noticed, Wesley shifted in his seat, seeming a bit awkward and uncomfortable from Signal’s stare.

“How do you know that for sure?” she asked him.

Wesley shrugged. “I don’t, it’s one of my theories. I’m not sure if it’s an uncle-nephew thing, a father-son thing, or pseudo family thing, or a brother-brother thing, or what, but I believe it’s something along those lines. Otherwise, why isn’t Batman treating Red Hood like any other criminal, like Bane?”

“Hood is nothing like Bane,” Signal stated. The corners of his mouth had turned down into a frown, and Athanasia noticed the defensive and protective undertone.

Honestly, she almost said the same thing in the same way.

By the way Wesley’s eyes widened, he noticed Signal’s tone, too. He raised his hands. “Hey, man, I didn’t say he was. That’s just the first criminal who came to mind!”

Signal stared at him for another second, visibly unnerving Wesley even more, then finally looked away. “Anyway. Eat the sandwiches if you’re hungry.” Then, almost resigned, “If you need anything, please tell me. I’m stuck babysitting to make sure Robin doesn’t walk on his ankle, and that kid is borderline grumpy on good days.”

Athanasia smirked. “Good luck.”

“Ugh.”

When he walked away, Wesley spoke up again. “My family theory is growing.”

“Please don’t start trying to figure out their identities,” Foley practically begged. “I’d like to stay on their good sides.”

Silence.

Foley sighed.

“Seriously, Wes?” Gray complained.

“We can talk about Wes’ obsession with secret identities later–”

“It’s not an obse–”

Manson cut him off with a glare. “Later,” she emphasized. “Batman. GIW. The assassins. What and how much are we telling him?”

Much to Athanasia’s relief, she didn’t try to bring up Ra’s again to get her to explain. Her shoulders relaxed at that, and conversation finally got back on track.

+++

Much to Bruce’s short lived relief, all Alfred needed him for was to give him an extra set of hands to apply bandages to the teen. They were almost done. It took longer than Bruce liked, simply because he had so many injuries, old and new.

Alfred finished wrapping bandages around the boy’s torso. Gently and carefully, Bruce laid him back down, having been holding him up to make things easier.

He stared down at Danny. Even under anesthesia from surgery and with a safe amount of morphine to ease the pain, his face was still slightly pinched in a way that told them something still hurt. Bruce wished he knew what else he could do to help him. His kid.

Danny and Athanasia, he thought. Another son, another daughter. One who had one giant wound on his chest and other smaller ones littered about, one who had defensive and offensive injuries and bruises.

He almost lost another son tonight. He didn’t know Danny, didn’t even know he existed until a couple of hours ago. It still hurt. Still settled an ache in his heart – for him, Athanasia, Damian, and the other teenagers.

“Whoever did this…” Bruce began, anger seeping into his tone. “Who would vivisect a child?”

“I’m afraid, these days, that list is longer than any of us would like, Master Bruce,” Alfred said.

Bruce pushed back the cowl and rubbed his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb. “This is…” He had no words. With a sigh, he dropped his hand. “How bad is it, really?”

There weren’t many times Bruce could count on his hands where he saw Alfred look so devastated that he was near tears. To see it now, Bruce almost retracted his question.

“He had internal bleeding that I had to stop. Multiple broken ribs. Broken sternum.” Alfred hesitated. “Misplaced organs that I had to put back.”

Bruce shut his eyes, and backed up to fall into the chair behind him. He leaned back, hand over his eyes. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Anything else?”

“Master Bruce–”

“Anything else?” he repeated, firm.

Alfred sighed. “He has bruises and cuts on his wrists – signs of a struggle against cuffs of some sort. Burns from something I am unsure of. His right forearm is fractured; we will have to call Dr. Thompkins to get it properly taken care of. Until then I placed a splint on it. He has other injuries, but those are superficial and nothing to worry about. If he is anything like anyone else in this family, he will make a miraculously full recovery.”

Taking in the information, Bruce rubbed at his temple, then looked back at Danny. He was pale from blood loss, and from where Bruce sat he couldn’t see the splinted arm but he did earlier.

The heart monitor beeped slower than an average human. It set Bruce’s anxiety off, afraid that at any moment it will slow down to a complete stop.

“There is…another thing that has my concerns,” Alfred spoke as he began to clean the area.

“The Lichtenberg figures.”

“Yes.”

Bruce noticed them when he first began helping Alfred. It was hard not to see them. The ones on his back started at the base of his neck and went all the way down his spine. Most branched off into faint, small lines that followed the nervous system of the body, and quickly faded out; a few went up towards his hairline. But there was one figure that branched off, that stayed prominent like the one down his spine; it went across his shoulder blade and down his left arm, not stopping until it reached the palm.

“They are old, from what I can tell,” said Alfred. “A few or so years, perhaps.”

Bruce brows lowered. “Lichtenberg figures disappear after a few days.”

“Not these.”

Bruce sighed.

The Lichtenberg figures. The horror of what happened and who did it. The Lazarus green on both twins, and Danny’s bandages. The secrecy of the twins.

Bruce had so many questions. He needed answers.

“Might I suggest, Master Bruce, that you wait to interrogate the traumatized teenagers?”

He stilled from where he stood back up. “We need answers–”

“And we can get them once everyone is well rested,” said Alfred. “We have no idea how long any of them have been awake, or where they even came from. Ask questions now, and you will have five exhausted and frightened teenagers giving you the hardest time of your life.”

Bruce thought back to when they first got to the Batcave. Of the persistence and stubbornness, and blatant refusal to let the adults take over. He admired their loyalty and want to protect their friend, but he did not want a repeat of that tonight.

“You’re right,” he reluctantly admitted.

“I often am, Master Bruce.”

“Hey.” The curtain moved. Jason poked his head in. “It’s just me,” he announced. “Gave Duke a tray of sandwiches earlier to give the kids. They have water, too. Need me to do anything here?”

Alfred looked down at the bed Danny was on; Bruce did, too. The sheets and mattress were stained from the impromptu surgery.

“A little help cleaning up and moving Master Danny to a new bed will be much appreciated,” said Alfred.

Jason nodded, then backed out with a, “One clean medical cot. Got it.”

That left Bruce and Alfred to continue cleaning everything else. The former tossed away the old bandages, dirtied thread, and alcohol wipes; the latter picked up the medical equipment that had been used and placed them in a plastic tub to be washed and disinfected later. Jason quickly came back in rolling up a clean bed, and they carefully moved Danny from one to the other.

Silence fell as Bruce began to check that the IV was still secure after all of the moving.

“So,” Jason said, Alfred leaving to put everything away, stained bed included. “Danny, huh.”

Bruce hummed.

The quiet turned tense between them.

“Hell, old man, just go ahead and ask.”

With crossed arms, he looked at his second son. “You knew.”

“Not a question, but sure. Whatever.” Jason motioned to Danny. “I didn’t know about him. Hell, I didn’t even know about Damian until he came here.”

His eyes narrowed a little. “But you knew about Athanasia. You recognized her on the roof.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, carelessly. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

“For how long?”

Jason didn’t immediately answer. “I don’t know, B. I guess I was sixteen?” He crossed his arms, too. “She looked, maybe, a little younger than Damian is now.”

“So you met at the League.”

“Eh, sure… It would be more accurate to say she found me, and randomly appeared like the fucking Ghost Christmas Past or some shit.”

“And you never told me.”

“Jesus. No.”

“Why?”

“No more dead Robins. No more child soldiers. No more kids dealing with your shit,” said Jason. “Take your fucking pick.”

“They aren’t Robins, Jason, and they definitely are not child soldiers because of me,” Bruce snapped. “They are my children, all of you are, and I didn’t force any of you to do what we do. I wouldn’t have forced Athanasia to become a vigilante if she didn’t want to, if she came here with Damian!”

Underneath his domino mask, Bruce knew Jason was glaring at him. “Are you going to hound Damian like this? He didn’t tell you either!”

“Because he made a promise that he wouldn’t! You didn’t! Six years, son–”

“And she’s been visiting Gotham for two!” Jason yelled.

“What do you mean?”

“She already knew you’re her dad; don’t ask me how because I don’t know. But don’t you think she would have come to you if she wanted you to know?”

Bruce faltered for only a second.

It was long enough for a small projectile to hit him in his temple before he could form an actual response to his son. He flinched from the impact but caught it – a rock from somewhere in cave – and heard Jason begin to chuckle before he also got hit in the side of the head with another rock.

Having slipped into the curtained off area while they argued, stood Athanasia. A few more rocks were in one hand and Bruce had no doubt she would throw another one if she felt like she needed (or wanted) to.

Her expression was a guarded.

Jason glared at her. “What the hell–”

“The others want to speak with Batman. In case you forgot because of your aging mind, I didn’t tell them your identity, so I suggest you put the cowl back on before you walk out.” With that, she ducked out, not waiting for either of them to speak.

There was a beat of silence.

“Insulted by a new kid in under two hours,” said Jason. “That has to be a new record.”

“No,” Bruce denied gruffly, “it still goes to you for calling me a ‘big boob’ and hitting me with a tire iron when stealing my tires.”

“I wasn’t your kid then.”

“Hn.”

Jason exasperatedly sighed. “You’re impossible.” He walked out without another word.

Bruce put on the cowl, but didn’t leave until Alfred came back, wary to leave Danny alone. When Alfred assured him that he would alert them if needed, he left and made his way to Athanasia and the other teenagers.

He wasn’t surprised to see Damian already there. Either Athanasia got him or he forced Duke to help him; whatever the case, he and Duke now sat at the table with the others, while Jason stood off to the side against a nearby cave wall. His helmet was back on, and he watched the group with crossed arms.

He pulled up a spare chair and held laced it between Athanasia and Damian. He had barely sat down for longer than a second when the girl who introduced herself as Valerie Gray spoke up.

“We need to leave.”

“No.”

She reeled back, shocked. The others stared at him with either incredulity or anger. Tucker Foley froze with a half eaten sandwich hovering in front of his mouth, and Sam Manson looked ready to argue.

“Um, yes,” Valerie corrected. “You can’t keep us here, we aren’t prisoners. We brought Danny here for medical attention, and now that that’s done, Wes and I need to head back to Amity Park ASAP.”

“I can’t in good conscience let any of you to take another trip somewhere,” Bruce told them. “I’m not keeping you as prisoners. You need rest. All of you.”

“We can rest later,” Sam argued. “We don’t have time to just- just sit around and do nothing!”

“Resting isn’t doing nothing,” he said. “It’s making sure you don’t push your body and mind too much so you can work more later.”

“We don’t have time for later.”

“With all due respect, um, Batman, sir,” Tucker began nervously, “Sam and Valerie are right. We have a lot to do. This has already gone on for long enough.”

Underneath the cowl, an eyebrow raised. “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

The group hesitated.

“There is a secret government organization tormenting a subspecies of humans and metas,” Athanasia explained. “The organization call themselves the Ghost Investigation Ward.”

“Ghosts,” Bruce repeated.

The teens nodded.

Duke ‘huh’ed, as if he was piecing things together in his own head.

“Ghosts?” questioned Jason incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “There are literally aliens on this world, a dude with a magical ring, an Amazonian woman, a gene in human DNA that gives some of us powers, heroes apparently die and come back to life on the regular, a bunch of other shit, and you’re seriously questioning ghosts right now?”

“What do you mean by ‘tormenting’?” Bruce asked before Jason could properly respond. “And why?”

“Ghosts, or anything paranormal, aren’t seen as good or friendly beings by them,” Tucker said. His eyes became downcast. “They aren’t even considered beings. Or sentient.”

“The GIW are ghost hunters,” Valerie explained. “And over the past few years, they have taken an interest in our town, Amity Park, because of the extreme amount of paranormal activity and ambient ectoplasm we have. Usually our local ghost vigilante takes care of them, and it’s never been that big of a deal, even though they have always wanted to catch Phantom and do Ancients know what. He’s always been able to stop them before anything got too serious.

“Honestly, we didn’t take them that seriously when we probably should have. We call them the Guys in White, because they’re like a lame, evil, paranormal-obsessed version of the Men in Black. Even though they did have bad intentions, they’ve never been successful. But last October…”

“They aren’t so lame anymore,” Wes muttered.

As Bruce quietly took in and filed away the information he just got, Damian gave them a somewhat judgmental look. “You underestimated them. That can very well lead to a deadly mistake,” he said. He glared at them under the domino mask. “It almost did.”

“We know,” Sam responded, sounding equally frustrated and solemn. “They are a government organization that got bested by a group of fourteen year olds when they first came along. What were we supposed to think? They have been getting better over the years, but so have we. We have always taken necessary precautions and we had plans for potential bad outcomes because Danny was insistent on that. But they stopped coming around for some time. We stupidly believed they’d given up on us. Then the Guys in White finally showed their faces again, and we weren’t as prepared as we should have been.”

“It’s why we need to get back to Amity Park,” Wes said. “They put us under martial law and we need to get in touch with another friend of ours.”

Bruce took in what they said. He still had a bunch of questions alongside new ones that he wanted answers to ASAP. Alfred was right, though; questioning them right now – let alone letting any of them leave to continue on their mission – wasn’t a good idea.

This was a group of eager, stubborn teenagers whose town and best friend were in danger. He understood their urgency to keep going, and he told them as such. “But it will do no good for anyone to run yourselves to the ground. I’m even willing to help and hear the full story of what happened, but not until each of you get some much needed rest. That’s final.”

“But–”

“Batman, you don’t understand–”

“Running on fumes will get you no where,” he spoke firmly and loudly. It was the same tone he used on his kids, both in and out of suits, when they were misbehaving or did something they shouldn’t have. “It might even lead to another almost deadly mistake. You all need to rest. You can either stay in a safe house, or I can get in touch with Athanasia’s father and see if you can go there if that’s what you want.”

“What if we want a hotel?” Sam asked with a glare that hard to tell if it was from anger at him or the migraine she had.

“I won’t let you,” he bluntly admitted. “A government organization is after Danny and you guys by proxy, for reasons I don’t know. It’s either a safe house, or Athanasia’s father’s home that I have personally created a security system for.”

No one responded. A short silence fell over them.

Bruce decided to stand up. “I will let you guys choose. I need to check on my partners out in the field.”

[melancholysway]

TMNT Imagines: Guide to Being their Friend!

What the title says 😎but no this is the guide for being each turtles friend!

Leonardo

Being Leo’s friend entails that he’ll have someone level headed to talk to. I feel as though all versions of Leo needs a friend to match his energy.

2007 & 2003 Leo would seek to talk to his friend when he needs a break from being the leader. He holds a heavy burden on him, and sometimes, he needs a cleanse; has to let loose for a bit, Ya know?

That being said, try and get him out of his comfort zone! Invite him over to hang and have him dance! He’ll feel weird at first, but he appreciates that you’re actively trying to get his mind off of the heavy burden he carries constantly.

2012 Leo: watch Space Heroes with him, please. His brothers (Raph) clown him so much, he would love to have a friend that shares the same interest.

Rise!Leo: be chaotic with him, ALL THE TIME! Seriously, go out and do some spontaneous shit with him, see where his portals can take you both, anything! Make beats together, he seriously doesn’t care as long as it’s a vibe.

All this being said, all versions of Leo would appreciate a friend who can listen to his problems. To hear where he’s coming from, ya know? If him and Raph argue or there’s tension, listen to him. A lot of the times, he thinks he’s not doing enough. That he’s failing at being their leader when something goes wrong.

“Leo, as your friend, I can tell you firsthand that nobody could do this leader thing as good as you can.”

He likes to hear that. That SOMEONE appreciates and sees his efforts! So please, give him a good pep talk when he needs it!

Raphael

Okay, guys.

Raph is not just some fucking asshole who goes around raising hell in every room he steps in.

He doesn’t constantly fight or argue with Leo, and I hate that sooo many fanfics write him this way, fr fr

I 100% believe Raphael is just a guy, just a fuckin guy yall

He’s more glass half empty a lot of the times, and he’s most definitely blunt.

I believe Leonardo is the most skeptical member of the team- he doesn’t trust so easily, not to say Raph doesn’t.

However, when you start to come around the lair often, and even hanging with his brothers, who is he to shut you out? You haven’t done anything to him, or treated him badly. He’s definitely laid-back, does his own thing, minds his business, you get the idea.

Tell him all your jokes, seriously- this turtle needs a friend with a sense of humor. To hype him up, or to be his spotter, anything! Even if the joke is shit, tell him, the worst he’ll do is straight up tell you that it wasn’t funny LMAO

If you don’t like people telling you the truth and being honest, STAY AWAY FROM RAPH!

He will NOT sugarcoat shit for you, he will tell you the cold hard truth. If you don’t like this, your loss.

Everyone needs someone like Raph in their life- to really slap them in the face with reality! He WILL call it like he sees it. His delivery is always sort of harsh, but it comes from a good place. He lets you know that after.

Since it’s a platonic relationship between friends, get ready for him to tell you about the women he found attractive while on patrol.

If he does wind up getting into a relationship with a girl, he will have to explain to her that the friendship you both have is important to him, especially if you’re close enough to be considered family. Family always comes first for Raphael.

Really needs you to tell him about himself sometimes. He doesn’t want a friend that’ll lie to him, even though he probably won’t like what you have to say. If him and Leo get into an argument and he’s at fault, let him know. Don’t always take Raph’s side, ESPECIALLY if he’s wrong. He’ll be mad, but give him a few to cool off and realize you’re right, you always were. You come from a good place, and he remembers that always.

He’s definitely misunderstood- but a lot of the times, he hides his emotions, because he doesn’t wanna seem soft. But, we all know this, especially 2012 Raph! He hates looking weak, but we see him continuously care for his brothers.

Same with 2007 Raph, I honestly don’t know why people write him to be such a bitch, ie; doesn’t care what anyone has to say, rude to his brothers all the time, etc etc. they take ONE of his toxic traits and RUN IT TO THE GROUND YALL

If he’s comfortable with you, he will show his soft side, he just doesn’t show it to his brothers- especially Mikey.

Always reliable, if you need him, he’s got you. He’s 1000% a loyal friend, and hopes that you trust him enough so he can possibly open up to you. It takes a LONG time to get to this point, though.

Really loves to rendezvous, 2007!Raph loves a good bike ride to nowhere, and he won’t mind taking you with him. This goes for all versions of Raph- go with him to do absolutely nothing! Except if he wants to be alone. Hang out with him while he’s working out, or go on a bike ride with him- a lot of the times he just wants someone to appreciate the city lights as much as he does.

I also slightly headcanon that he’s chiller than the other turtles tbh.

Donatello

Oh Donnie

First off- he loves to talk. DEPENDING on who he’s talking to. He really can’t hold a conversation with Mikey, so.

But, if you’re his friend, be ready for him to talk a lot, especially once he’s comfortable around you.

If you’re into the same sciency shit he’s into, he’ll be over the moon! He can’t really converse with his brothers or Splinter about it since they can’t understand what he’s saying half the time.

A lot of the times, he really just needs an outsiders ears. Someone that’s not his brother or Sensei. He wants you to give him advice that’s in his best interest.

If he’s crushing on April, he will ask you for advice. Please be careful of how you speak to him, he’s not like Raphael.

You shouldn’t sugarcoat anything with Donnie, do tell him how it is, but be gentle, and use your words WISELY. Do NOT say anything that will hurt him. Use a gentle tone, please.

If its 2012 Donnie & he’s showing you that music box he made for April, please let him know what you think of it.

“I really like the effort you put in it Donnie, but don’t you think it’ll be a bit much for her? What about something smaller, like making her a bracelet?”

Like this. Do not bring him down! Any version of Donnie, don’t bring him down! He already has issues with self-confidence, always keep this in mind!

He would really enjoy if you could help him out on some of his inventions, he gets someone to talk to, and someone to be his helper! It’s a win-win for him

Please, make him food! Bayverse Donnie specifically! But, any version of Donatello, please make the turtle food. Slip out the lab when he’s working on something, and instead of heading for the pop-tart box, make him a quick sandwich with lots of greens, something that’ll taste good & boost his energy! He’ll munch at it while he’s working, but he will always let you know he appreciates it.

“Thanks for always helping me reach my daily caloric intake, Y/n.”

Michelangelo

First off, you better have some free time in your schedule!

Mikey really loves people, he’s the most sociable out of the four, and he’s a party dude! So please, hang out with him! As his friend, come down to the lair whenever you can to visit!

Play video games with him, go searching for new comics, discover new parts of the sewer, anything!

I think he needs stimulation a lot of the times, and a great way to do this is to embark on different adventures with him. Shit, steal the shellraiser and go on a drive through the city (don’t let him drive, he can be a passenger princess.)

He will always be doing something, and he’s always random- always expect the unexpected with him.

You have to be patient with Mikey though, he might have your brain going 1272626 miles per hour when he’s excited about something, but let him! He’s excited about what he’s talking about, don’t shoot him down.

Have Mikey train you on occasion. It’ll make him feel that he’s doing right by helping a friend! It’ll also make him feel good about his skills, and that he can even teach someone!

This goes for any version of Mikey- help him find new hobbies! He already skateboards, dances, cooks- try some art! Bring over some paint and canvases and go at it together. He will appreciate that you’re taking the time as his friend to get his hands on some things he’s never tried before.

Also, his cooking! 2012 Mikey especially, get him a cookbook, PLEASE! If you’re going to the Lair, bring over some new ingredients for him to use, or better yet: invite him over to chill and watch a movie! You guys can fuck around and make something yummy! Try and get him to have something not related to pizza, expand his palette. He probably will be picky, but whatevs! He’ll find something he enjoys.

Masterlist

[riddle-me-ri]

A/N: let's goooo, here's the Mad Hatter edition of "readers ignoring *insert rogue*'s affection" series...thing lmao. I will say out of the three rogues I've done of this (including this one as the third) I've never been more imperative that you don't pull this kinda thing on them...just...10/10 DON'T recommend folks.

Reader Ignores The Mad Hatters' Affections

Arkhamverse Mad Hatter: 

Oh? What’s this?

You just must be distracted.

Jervis will wrap his arms around you, giving a notably tight squeeze.

You still seem to ignore him steadfastly.

He’s growing confused. 

If not frustratingly confounded. 

It would be wise you drop the act now…please

Tell him you felt funny or something made you confused.

I don’t think he’ll understand or appreciate the idea of you “teasingly” ignoring him.

Assure him that it won’t happen again and everything will be right as rain…

I advise you not to do it again in the future.

BTAS Mad Hatter: 

Immediately knows something is off. 

Time and time again, you’ve always reciprocated his affection in your own way.

For you to cease them completely…is strange. 

He asks if he did something wrong or if someone upset you.

You shrug it off and say no. 

This further confuses and upsets Jervis. 

He wants to fix it, he has to fix it. Whatever it is. 

For once he’s not alone, he has someone and now they’re not returning his affections-

You notice his brain starting to turn and turn out of control. 

You get it to stop by kissing his cheek, and immediately apologizing. 

Jervis takes a sigh of relief when you explain you were just curious, but please..

Please don’t do that again. 

TNBA Mad Hatter: 

Like BTAS, he’s practically concerned from the get-go. 

Jervis is wracking his brain on what he may have done wrong. 

When you say it’s not him, you’re just not feeling it…

What the hell does that mean? You-You don’t love him anymore? 

Jervis wasn’t sure if he could live with that…

In fact, he knew he couldn’t. 

You didn’t truly realize the impact of your excuse until you saw how Jervis’ face fell. 

From concern to complete despair. 

You jump to action by wrapping your arms around him and kissing his cheeks. 

You apologize, explaining you were just pulling his leg. 

A wave of relief washes over him, he’s quick to return your embrace. 

But not before begging you not to do that again. 

Gotham Mad Hatter: 

Is likely to believe you’re teasing at first. 

Doesn’t get incredibly upset.

At first. 

Jervis will give you a moment to come to your senses. 

When a moment has passed and nothing has changed. 

He’s fuming on the inside, but tries to keep his cool. 

Hopefully at this point you see him start getting impatient with you. 

Jervis is trying his best to keep it together, but he craves your touch and attention. 

You’re being awfully cruel…and he’d hate to have to be cruel back. 

All tension is relieved when you wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. 

When you implore you were just teasing, he shakes his head. 

He advises you to never, ever tease him like that again…or else. 

HQ:TAS Mad Hatter: 

Likely checks to make sure it’s not his hygiene causing your apprehension. 

It’s not his fault, he’s never had to think about things like; breath, body odor, and things like that. 

But he definitely considers them more now…or atleast makes the effort to. 

When he rules that out…now it’s a matter of wondering if he forgot something. 

It wasn’t any of that, you just kept ignoring him or giving half answers. 

Jervis grows absolutely frustrated.

When you hear blood-curling screams from men in rabbit masks is when you decide to give in. 

Jervis is almost hysterically elated when you explain it was just a joke. He’s jumping up and down, ecstatic to have you back. 

Joker’s Asylum Mad Hatter: 

Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

Yeah, he’s in full panic mode.

He’s messed up somehow…he was so sure he would!

He always does! He can never have anything good for too long!

Out of all the Jervi, highly suggest you do NOT do this to this one. 

Before you know it, he’s grabbing his hat and making tea, he’s spiraling. 

It takes all your strength and might to break through to him. 

Hold him, kiss him, reassure him, and promise him that you will never deny him affection ever again. 

Secret Six Mad Hatter: 

Well, that’s just rude. 

You know you’re lucky he’s even paying attention to you. 

Besides you don’t always wear a hat, yet he always makes sure to acknowledge you. 

You ignore him the first few times, and he’s quick to ignore you too.

However, he doesn’t hide the fact well, that he’s really hurt by it. 

After years of thinking he’s finally found a partner and you decide to be reserved for some odd reason or another. 

Realizing how far out of control this went, you were quick to set the record straight. 

Jervis at first didn’t want to give you the time of day, why should he? You hurt his feelings!

Yet, he is curious…

When you tell him it was just to see how he’d respond, he’s rather clueless. 

What kind of cruel joke was that? Absolutely maddening you can be sometimes. 

All is well when you kiss him full-heartedly on his lips, but he still plans on getting back at you somehow.

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

Chunky!Krogan Lore

@duoatomica hehe

And @ziggityzigg , my other chunky!Krogan lover lol

Krogan is 27-30 at the current timeline of this au, depends entirely on the story, and in fact the roleplay this takes place in. It means that this au takes place 4-7 years after Race to the Edge, 3-6 years after How to Train Your Dragon 2 and about 2-5 years After THW.

For more Context of the state of the world:

in this AU The dragons never left. Because the third movie’s ending is STUPID AS FUCK and I will die on this rock.

Viggo Grimborn is alive and well.

Drago is fucking dead as hell lmao. (Krogan also does NOT know this.) Grimmel was the person they faced in the time frame of what would have been the second movie as the main villain and ended up falling to his death where he broke most of the bones in his body upon contact with the water.

Night Furies are also not extinct because Grimmel is stupid and definitely did not kill every single one of them because he is LITERALLY JUST A SINGLE GUY.

Anyways! The background:

________

Krogan managed to escape Drago Bludvist at the age of 23. He spent about a year and a half running around trying to figure out what, exactly to do with himself, considering the fact that he was, for the first time in his life, truly alone. During this time, doubt began to creep into his mind, about the fact that he was worthless by himself. That without someone to aid him or guide him, that he was incapable of being useful or worth anything.

Krogan decided to settle somewhere in a forest. There was a village nearby, however he tended to ignore the village in favor of teaching himself how to build things. It put his mind to work and distracted himself from his… entirely unwanted thoughts. Over the span of a few months (with a bit of struggle and intense anger at initially being unable to figure it out, Krogan was able to get the frame of a house up. It wasn’t much, and it was starting to get cold, but he continued to work on it, collecting mud and bricks and wood to his best ability to build the walls and the roof. When he was finally satisfied, he moved on to building and sculpting doors and everything else he needed.

Getting glass was quite surprisingly… not very hard, at least for Krogan. All he had to do was collect sand and throw it in the kiln he had been using to heat his home. and when he was done, he would simply shape it into panes with his bare hands. For whatever reason, he simply thought his skin was far more heat resistant to fire and high temperatures due to the amount of time he spent around forges and dragons. He has a few burns, mostly from Deadly Nadders, however most fire really did not phase his skin very much. In fact, this was incredibly useful for how he made his windows, and how he began to fire the mud bricks he used for his fireplace, as they are both hand sculpted. In several of the window panes there is a clear imprint of some of his fingerprints, permanently there and lovingly crafted into the very glass itself.

As time goes on and the structure is built, Krogan continues to try and distract himself from everything else that was raging in his head, as well as the… other habits he has began to pick up, because of the fact that simply burying himself into his crafts of painting and building and chopping wood for more projects and crushing up beetles and flowers and other items to make pigments for his paints just was not cutting it anymore. And it hadn’t been, not for a while. They did not stop his thoughts. His thoughts of horrible hatred and terrifying pain and fear. That he was useless. He had no direction. That he needed anything and everything to be perfect otherwise he had to start all over again in ripping everything he just worked on apart, nail by nail. It was probably what lead to his home becoming such a large part of him, a perfect getaway where he could just do whatever he wanted within it. Staining wood, making furniture and building a home for himself. Most every inside wall at some point has been painted over with some sort of mural and then repainted again and again according to Krogan’s whims and trying to “fix” things about himself and his so-called work.

About two and a half years in, Krogan gets into a fight with a man in the middle of the streets of the town and ends up getting a new, deep cut in his face that ends up scarring and damages his right eye enough for a cataract to form. Due to the fact that he does not inherently want to go back to killing people (even though he does end up killing the man), he faints and wakes up being cared for by the town’s healer, a nice woman who he quietly pays for her time and resources, and quickly escapes back home, despite her efforts to try get him to stay and heal because of his injuries and her fear of a concussion.

He ignored the fact that binge eating and alcoholism were beginning to affect him. It really wasn’t a big deal after all. He hid the changes to his body, hid them from the world, despite the fact that on all other accounts, he had become a complete hermit, spending his time toiling away in his garden, and only really coming out of the cove to collect booze or seeds for the garden that was beginning to grow far too sizeable for he himself to use all of the products… at least the ones that were not turned into paint, or the fibers of the plants into more canvases for his work. More books, more journals to stuff even more knowledge into them.

His drunken binges sometimes ended with over thirty pages of sometimes… blatant nonsense or just awkwardly scribbled notes wallowing in his own self pity and hatred. It wasn’t like he went through and re-read any of his own work half the time, anyways, unless it was specifically to study whatever bug or animal he had recently discovered or written about. Exploring the forest surrounding the cove, he came into contact with plants that he noted down, and even if they weren’t entirely important in their usage for medicinal purposes, he’d note down their location if he found them interesting enough to come back for seeds from them.

Around this time, he’d continued to make himself new clothing in between everything else. Hunting, fishing, skinning animals, killing the occasional raven for its feathers to sell to merchants in the town. He was still wary of the faces that would stare at him as he came into town, their voices seeming to multiply and expand into a hoarse sound of racket and laughter at his mere appearance. He had begun to stop ignoring his appearance. He’d changed, of course, he knew that, his hair was growing longer, more unkempt, and his mind was desperately screaming for more release. More time.

The dome was constructed about three years into all this. By this point, the mania is beginning to fade, if albeit slightly, however he still doesn’t understand the manner of his thoughts. His needs, his wants. He is still, for the most part, entirely reclusive, not preferring to appear in town unless he needs to sell something, due to the anxiety that rages on in his body towards his self image. Mirrors are for the most part, removed from his home. He doesn’t need reminders as to what he looks like constantly staring at him in the face. His ability to sew has gotten better, and he has started to make himself increasingly more complex outfits and clothing whenever he can, in between the bouts of being drunk, though the need to binge has been waning. Alcohol does everything the food does, if not more with the extra, happy buzz it gives him. It is not true happiness, of course, but it definitely does the trick to make people think he is okay.

And he is completely fine with that.

(Mainline lore coming up)

Viggo Grimborn arrives at Krogan’s home unexpected. He practically lets himself in, and during this time he has been searching for Krogan. He doesn’t know WHY he wants to see the man considering the fact that last they left off, it wasn’t exactly on the best of terms, and he is entirely 100% not at all shocked at finding out that Krogan is very much 100% not thrilled to see him in any way shape or form.

Of course Krogan has changed since the last he’s seen him, but Viggo finds everything about the changes endearing and alluring. It still looks like His Krogan, but slightly different. And he is fine with that. Of course he really does not understand the turmoil Krogan is going through, especially with the extreme depressive episode he’s in, so the… particularly disheveled state of Krogan’s home is unsettling, considering he knows Krogan to be an incredibly neat individual.

Krogan doesn’t take his jabs to heart of course, he has too many other things already on his metaphorical plate, and Viggo can’t help but wonder what some of the frustrated looking paintings scrawled across the walls on canvases that are scattered in their nature, mean. He is allowed to stay, for the time, Except he really doesn’t get to talk to Krogan about… anything. The man doesn’t talk to him, if only in the way of grunts and moderate insults, which, fair enough, Krogan must seem to think Viggo hates him, based on their last interaction, but it feels so hollow and empty to watch his… friend spiral the way he is.

And Viggo doesn’t mean to snoop. He doesn’t try to, but Krogan is… kind of a mess at this point. It isn’t his fault that he stumbled upon the piles of discarded, unfinished paintings that were depicting Viggo himself, and in quite a few of them, there is another man, of whom he can only know is Krogan. He would have had a more solid idea if the faces of the portraits hadn’t been burned out and smudged with charcoal. Even the seemingly newest one, they all depict Krogan as having the body he used to have, even though… according to Krogan’s notes that have been seemingly drunkenly scrawled across the backs of some of the later portraits, that is not what he looked like. The hatred that bled from the words of a man who had always seemed to hate himself, seemed to bleed and boil over into pure self loathing and disgust at “everything he had become.”

Though Viggo was most concerned about how on the last one it mentioned the fact that Krogan had started to harm himself again. He decides to try and shove these discoveries away, and the keyword is, most certainly the fact that he does, absolutely try to do so, though he had no clue how long Krogan had been looming behind him, watching him from the doorway, because it was really only once he heard the man approaching him, was the time that Viggo had to try stuffing the portraits away into a drawer where they had been haphazardly hidden away from prying eyes.

And it was then that Viggo noticed the bloodied bandages that clung to Krogan’s arms. The ones that were kept hidden under long sleeves for the most part. He knew. Viggo knew Krogan knew.

Viggo didn’t have any sort of problem with Krogan’s odd… obsession, over him, but the way Krogan just… stared at him with eyes that weren’t entirely there, like he was looking through him rather than at him.

He wants to help Krogan. Because the expression fills him with dread. He can understand, slightly, why Krogan has changed now.

But he didn’t want to spook him more.

And at the same time, it is no better if he leaves him to rot all alone, filled with hatred and anger towards himself. Viggo knows what that can feel like. It hurts. And he could never wish it on the man that… he finds he still loves very dearly.

His only uncertainty is if Krogan feels the same as him. And, if he will even let him inside his mind, to begin with.

[eggtartz]

Watching football together with Mikey?!? Yn is Brazil supporter idk what Mikey will support but a game night together

a/n : i know nothing about football lmao anyways thankyou for requesting anon 🫶

: slightly suggestive

masterlist

"there's five more minutes until the game starts sit down bubs" mikey patted the couch while arranging snacks on the table while the television was airing an advertisement. today was the day where your favorite team from Brazil is going to compete with Argentina, mikey's favorite team.

"the popcorns almost done, do you want them extra caramelized mikey?"

"hell yeah!" all these snacks would definitely give both of you an intense sugar rush so you'd two be able to watch the game until it ends.

after settling down, the match finally started with both teams singing their anthem and shaking hands.

"im actually nervous for this game"

"huh? why's that?"

"i had a bet with kenchin who would win the game, loser gotta take a video of them making out with their partner and show it to the others"

"what the- what kind of bet is that?"

"well, we were kinda drunk when we were betting that so-" you looked at mikey who was fidgeting with his shirt, unwilling to look at you back. don't get him wrong, he really loves you and the other members know that but he's shy. like shy, shy.

"you don't want to makeout with me mikey?"

"what? of course i do, it's just there's need to record it and everything and show it to others like i don't-" mikey stopped his rambling when you shushed him as the game start when the first player kicked the ball.

after thirty minutes, the ball was kicked into the goal, winning a score to Brazil. you screamed in excitement, jumping around the couch. mikey grew anxious because the first half time was spent with 1 againts 0 with Brazil winning one point. if Argentina somehow doesn't shoot a score at the second half, he's doomed.

"i need to go to the bathroom be right back!" mikey stopped stuffing his face with popcorns and took out his phone. "oi kenchin, the bet's off! bet's off!"

"what's wrong huh? scared you're gonna have to makeout with y/n? c'mon mikey it's not like you're gonna do a sex tape or anything"

"shut up kenchin! bet's off im telling you"

"nah bet's still there, see you tomorrow when they win though. bye mikey~" mikey gritted his teeth when the line went dead

when the second half started, the both of you were on the edge of your seat as there were so many close calls where the ball almost went in the goal. mikey almost tripped the bowl of his popcorn when Argentina shoot the ball but hit the pole instead. you two weren't even talking to each other, being too focused in your own world.

"that was so close! is there's a extra time? i hope there is"

"yeah there's ten minutes extra time"

"cool! i need them to score just one, just one!"

"you don't want to kiss me that much?"

"STOP IT Y/N" mikey can't look at you, not when he's so embarrassed like this, face flushed and ear red. five minutes remaining and finally Argentina scored a goal that mikey accidentally tossed the snacks he was holding and ran across the living room, screaming. "finally!"

you weren't even mad that he's acting like this, you thought he was cute even how he didn't wanted people to see you two kissing. you called him to sit back and pulled his hand. "you're so cute you know that mikey?"

"i mean, i know-" his words stopped when you kissed him gently, you were trying so hard not to straddle him. "y/n, we- um"

"you know, the match's over. wanna clean up and do something else?"

"yeah! we should clean! then sleep! we should sleep y/n!" he said while rushing to the kitchen with the bowls of unfinished snack in his hand. you silently giggled, content that you are able to fluster your boyfriend.

[cowboy-garfield]

wait, have you ever seen the larry evidence? these men are still writing songs about each other and fake dating women?? even if they’re not together now, they’re closeted. many ex-boy band members have come forward with their own experiences of being forced to hide their sexuality (i.e., lance bass, ricky martin)

LMAO IS THIS A TROLL ARE Y'ALL FUCKING WITH ME... this is one of my friends isn't it hsjdkghsk /j

Dude I hate to break it to you, but you've picked the wrong Rango to tango with. My irl friend has been studying the larrie conspiracy DEEPLY for more a year now out of morbid fascination, and I've been along for the entire ride. We're losing our shit on the phone as I type this. I made that brba post referencing the black mold thing before it even broke 200 notes. I know about your rainbow bears and tattoos and babygates and 28.

If you've got something to throw at me, give me your best shot. I'm already in the belly of the beast with your so-called "evidence." And I've never seen a bigger crock of parasocial copium and sunk cost fallacy in my LIFE.

Genuinely idk if this is someone fucking with me, but if you seriously obsess over and speculate and state personal details about real people as if they're factual... then you seriously need to reevaluate your life. Not only is it unhealthy, but it's just weird as hell.

You don't know these people, and they don't know you. They're grown ass multimillionaires who can do whatever the fuck they want.

Hell—they've been involved in WORSE scandals than if they were merely to come out, but y'all probably wouldn't acknowledge any of that to save your life—because then they wouldn't be your little victimized uwu boys. The victimization angle is very important to the agenda I've noticed, because if you tell yourself you're always on the defense (or that someone else is attacking you/whoever you're shipping), you're free from having to self reflect. You're the victims, so why would you need to?

Here is the real kicker though. The real nitty gritty. Even if it came out that these guys WERE closeted, it would still be weird and unhealthy!!

It's genuinely difficult for me to even say any of this, because I've seen the decade-long trips these people go on, and i know how insanely detached from reality they get. But in the simplest terms, it's not your fucking business.

Loving someone's songs, being a fan, buying their merch, streaming their music, or hell—even just liking them as people (which is fine within reason, just like anything)—none of these are qualifiers that give you permission to speculate the details of someone's personal life. There are no qualifiers. At all.

Everyone is entitled to privacy, and no amount of fan devotion gives you a magic coupon owing you those private matters. It doesn't even give you the right to speculate on them. Re: the Heartstoppers actor outing incident. You are not a special fan, and you are not owed anything. Especially when there are thousands and thousands of people who also think they're special fans who just "really get the guy."

Even if that's not what this original ask was specifically saying, that's what the whole culture around this bullshit claims. It's implied. "I'm in the special secret circle of people who know what's Really going on! God our boys need us to support them through this separation so bad :'( It must be so hard for them, I can't imagine. Thank god I'm the one seeing their Obvious signals. Thank god they have me. Those non-believers are just homophobic sheep; I'm the only one who really cares."

The only thing you people have done for them (other than adding half a decimal point to their mountainous bottom lines) is ruin their friendships and lives.

Try to imagine having every minute detail of your life documented and analyzed by people you don't know. Imagine all this invasion is being used to prove a lie about your intimate personal life, which you cannot make them stop believing because of the narrative they've already committed to. Imagine your every denial being 'just more proof.' Imagine your child, girlfriend, wife, being sent death threats daily for years. Imagine having everything from your body language to your cousins' instagram likes to your fucking shopping clothes be scanned for "clues." Everything.

Now imagine that same ferocious invasion extends to every friend, partner, family member, and random ass person you stand next to for five minutes--everyone you will ever meaningfully interact with. That's the fucking pain of theirs I can't imagine; not some made up fucking ship fic about how "the big mean suits are keeping the gay babies down ;("

I can't imagine it. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. And I honestly admire their decorum about it. Because if I was in that position long enough to not lose my fucking mind, you bet your ass I would go harder than this:

But who am I kidding. All these sources are just more false flags from HQ, aren't they? When you invent a boogeyman who doesn't exist—when you craft an entire fanfic ARG out of normal, meaningless occurrences—anything can just be waved offg. Anything can be proof, and anything can be lies from management. You're forever liberated from the shackles of critical thinking! How convenient.

I understand that this is a novel and a half for one ask, but don't mistake that as investment in convincing you. I fully realize I sound just like a redditor, but after more than a year of seeing this batshit, that brain fungus meme blowing up out of nowhere and bringing larries right to me? Oh god, that's ambrosia.

I have been confused, fascinated, and disgusted by this fandom for ages; it's like watching a car crash. Despite the length of this, it's never been worth my time enough to start fights with random blogs though. Most are so removed from reality that arguing would be pointless anyway; can't fight delusion with logic. If that worked, none of this would be happening in the first place. So having the opportunity to rip into this shit when it's been doordashed right to me is like crack. With a laughably confident ask to boot.

This isn't me being a tryhard; I know that so many Larries—especially the oddly large demographic of 30+y/o women—are beyond hope. They've put years up to the double digits into this narrative and likely had it impact their life negatively, which tends to happen when you obsess over a conspiracy. To admit defeat now—to accept reality; boring, thankless reality where they aren't the victims with a promised happy ending—would probably break their brains in half. (Not to mention the toxic hazing, doxxing, elitism, and witch hunts that occur in their own fandom. Don't think I don't know about that shit either.)

I say this with hedonistic glee: I wrote this shit for fun. I could have been working on final projects right now, but I wanted to do this instead. It's not so much wanting to be rude to you in particular as it is me ripping into HL fandom and celeb conspiracists in general. Sorry that your ask was the sacrificial lamb, anon, but I would also like to thank you for being on anon so I could go off without fear of people coming to harass you. If you're a naive fan who got indocrinated by other fans, sorry for the rude wake up call I guess, but tbh I'm not really holding my breath.

And let's knock out some allegations before they even start, shall we? I am not a homophobe. I am not saying celebrities aren't pushed to act a certain way or that abuse doesn't happen in the entertainment industry. I don't care about 1D (hell, half the time i can't tell them apart). RPF is at best, fucking weird and at worst, actively harmful. I think 1D's music is mid. I don't think their relationships are fake, nor do I think that WHOLE ASS CHILD is some random hired actor. As a lesbian, that guy couldn't be the janitor of the lesbians let alone the king. Fucking nobody irl talks about these guys. If they came out, it would be old news within a week. There is no Qanon-esque day of reckoning where they're going to come out and shut up all the #haters. There is no storyline; real life doesn't have those. Homophobia is bad, obviously. Regardless of my opinions on their music or crummy things they've done (which I don't even know much about since I don't care abt them aside from the Larrie craziness), I hate that this toxic fan bullshit has affected them negatively and that goes for any celebrity. This is a wider problem than just the 1D crowd; not even gonna touch beatles, tswift, or kpop. Reality has no clues like a fucking Columbo episode. Lastly, y'all aren't even special--said friend has unearthed at least five near-IDENTICAL rpf shipping conspiracies in everything from fifty shades of grey to olympic ice skating. And those aren't even gay, but they still give their fans secret symbols that they're being kept apart for Some Reason through clothing and special numbers.

Anyway. It's finals week and I have life shit to do. Larries, feel free to file this away in your 'Naysayers Who Will Be Proven Wrong Someday!' hoard. Briefly entertaining a reality where they do come out, guess what: I still don't give a shit. They're just two rich white dudes who make top 40 pop songs. Toxic parasocial fan behavior like this would still be just as weird and shitty as it is in our actual reality, where these guys have never openly declared dating anyone but women and verbally detest this shipping behavior.

I swear to God, it seems like most Larrie shippers don't even like the men that actually exist. That's the rub, isn't it? Reality sucks, but fantasy can be whatever you want it to be. All the things you like about these guys are authentic, and all the things you don't are just manipulation tactics by the puppetmaster marketing team. Forget the fact that they're fucking human beings and not dolls for your amusement or comfort.

You have no idea if they're fake dating women. You have no idea if they're closeted. You have no idea if the generic ass love songs they write are about each other. The truth none of you people realize is that you're probably never going to know, and if that just eats you up inside—good. That's your common sense trying to chew its way out of the cage of confirmation bias you locked it in.