Inboxoverlord72
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Tony's a brat. It's just the truth. There's always that voice in his head that tells him to push, refuse, disobey. And that means no dom has the time or patience or skill to take him down into the subspace he craves.
That is, until he meets Steve Rogers.
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Bookmarked by Inboxoverlord72
10 Aug 2026
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[Sokka is five when the first mark appears.
It writes itself in a deep red like a wound, as if someone had carved the word “nonbender” in a messy font across the knuckles of his left hand, as if it was handwritten with a knife.
When he asks his mother, as she applies salve on Sokka’s knuckles, she sighs deeply and says nothing for a few moments.
“Sometimes, spirits don’t make much sense.”
Sokka has yet to turn thirteen when he wakes up screaming in pain, about ten soulmarks all over each other between his left shoulder and his ear, red and vivid like burning flesh. Among the few words that are somehow possible to read out of the disastrous scribbling, “disrespectful” and “coward” and “burned” and “sorry sorry sorry” are the ones that stand out the most to Sokka. He thinks, at the tender age of twelve, whoever did this to his soulmate will be sorry too, one day.
A month after Hakoda leaves him with the job of the protector at the age of thirteen, Sokka realizes, with a bitter taste in his mouth, that he’s got more soulmarks than his entire village combined.]
Or, to have a soulmark is to carry the vilest things that your soulmate believes about themselves on your skin.
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Bookmarked by Inboxoverlord72
21 Apr 2026
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The door shut behind him, and if Dick had been paying attention to anything other than the small crate and the relief at Tim and Damian's voices fading, he might have heard the hiss of air escaping from the cracks in the walls. He might've thought to grab for the rebreather in his belt.
He didn't, though.
Or
Dick gets hit by fear toxin while searching a warehouse with Tim and Damian, and in his hysteria he mistakes them for a threat.
Bookmarked by Inboxoverlord72
08 Mar 2026
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Shane Hollander knows he’s not a small guy. Years of hockey and workouts have built up his muscles, and lucky genetics from his father’s side places him just shy of six feet. He’s checked hockey players half a foot and several pounds more than him, knocked Scott Hunter into the ice in the one fight he’s ever actually thrown hands in. But as much as Shane loves the game, the fast movements, passes, and team camaraderie, there were times where he could only feel regret at following the path of athletic fame. He puts on the media smile he practices in the mirror as he brushes his hair each day, uses the bright lights of press conferences to erase his view of the audience, and keeps his answers simple and focused on hockey.
The number of people outside the arena still makes him feel crushed in on all sides, small. Eyes trained on his face, cameras flashing, pens and cell phones being passed into his hands. The itch of it all settles under his skin.
@OttawaPoliceDispatch: Police have been dispatched to a house alarm in Galetta, On. Possible break in, destruction of property.
@OttawaOfficialPoliceDepartment: Recent Missing Persons Report filed for Shane William Hollander at 9:25 pm
Epilogue: 3/1
Series
- Part 1 of 1100200's Hollanov Fanfics
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Bookmarked by Inboxoverlord72
24 Feb 2026