#but i can't ask for shit cause trauma

[junkdaw]

god i want someone to lay on top of me not in a sexual way but in a im touch starved and like weighted blankets kinda way

[caloboletus-rubripes]

hey how do you forgive yourself for doing something something you feel is irrevocably embarrassing even though you know you can do anything you want forever

like how do you unlearn that shame

[dumbdiscodragon]

Anyway if one more mental health professional asks me "oh you have trauma? why?" within 5 minutes of meeting me I am going to start flipping tables

[piplupod]

i figured out the cause of my inescapable uncontrollable irritability lately but man. that was the one vitamin supplement that was even somewhat helping with my sleep anxiety 😭😭 but it's fucking me over in terms of mood all day so I guess I just have to go back to being absolutely terrified of sleep fnfkfl i hate it hereeeee

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I mean I'm not goin back to him I'm not(!!!) but at this point I got no idea why

Literally just screaming into the fucking void

He already broke me to the point where all the shit he's said are my only core beliefs n even if I try to shut down the voice in my head repeatin it all I still believe every damn word

So no matter how long I cut him off for it's always there just the same. But no one else can always be there to make it go away. W/ him I at least go from a total waste of oxygen to the one thing I'll ever be any good for. It's an upgrade I can almost live with.

So what's the point? What do I or anyone gain from me stayin away?

I've been tryin so fucking hard n it's just not getting any easier. I don't know where to put all this fucking self loathing, I can't keep pouring it onto other people. I always need to keep so damn much inside n some of it still spills out n that's already bordering on too much. I don't wanna be a burden. I know everyone is, to some extent, but not like this. Not all the time. Plus they have something to give in return, I only have things no one else wants, just Val's happy to take em if offered.

I still feel the pull all the fucking time. It's like the chain he used to have around my neck but I know he's not doin the pulling, he doesn't care if he has me or not anymore. It's all me now. I'm the one who keeps wanting to go back. The rational part of me is screaming no cause I know he'll just hurt me n find new ways to cut even deeper but. What's left that he hasn't already done?

Maybe this time he'll make the feelings n the noise go away. Maybe this time he'll make it all quiet.

[thesealfriend]

if ur curious about why i'm being Like This over the next few months btw your best bet is just to spin the wheel because the winter season sure is a doozy

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[astonmartinii]

witchy business | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: reader x oscar piastri

oscar's gf is a lil kooky but she puts solstice to good use and mainfests some luck for her bf

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 31,094 others

yourusername: you're not really sisters if you've never done a ritual together ...

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user1 she's so mother

user2 i can't wrap my head around how her and oscar came to be but i love it

oscarpiastri don't have too much fun without me :(

yourusername tell your team to take out the no ritual clause from your contract i swear they're safe landonorris i heard your latin once IT IS NOT SAFE yourusername falsehoods !!

user3 does this girl have a job or is she just cosplaying ahs coven full time

yourusername i'm a florist, do you want my social security number and tax returns too?

danielricciardo any way you could like turn me into a real honey badger for a couple hours that sounds fun?

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 490,568 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: some time off well spent with my love

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user10 i am once again asking - how did this happen?

user11 it's actually a really cute story they apparently went to school together and she still does a weekly bouquet for his mum and grandma. they're og sweethearts all that opposites attract jazz

landonorris don't even get a photo credit with all the trauma i experienced for that pic

oscarpiastri bro you barged into my room and took a photo? landonorris i didn't see any sock on the door oscarpiastri it was my own house?

yourusername i love every moment together with you

oscarpiastri that sentiment goes both ways xx user12 god i am so alone

f1teaandgossip

liked by 14,098 others

f1teaandgossip: with lando and oscar being reported as frustrated, how long do you think it'll be until they're linked with moves elsewhere and do you think the updates will improve the car?

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user15 they don't deserve this

user16 i don't wanna be that person but this is karma for what they did to daniel

user17 i honestly think magic might be our only chance

user18 @yourusername pls work some magic

yourusername on it 🫡 user19 now that's my favourite wag

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 58,451 others

yourusername: the full moon is here and i'm bringing some luck to my baby

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user20 mother is here to save the day i know that's right

landonorris if this works i'll never say you're scary ever again

yourusername *when it works have some faith in the moon lando landonorris yeah i don't think i wanna mess with the moon

user21 that moment when the mcl60 is so bad that you start to believe in witchcraft

oscarpiastri i love you so much (p.s. thank you to the girls as well, i'll cover the next candle order)

yourusername i love you too honey - we're rooting for you yourbff1 we love you oscar yourbff2 i don't understand your sport but i love the wages cause candles !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc so are you adept in curses? asking for a friend....

maxverstappen1 sure. yourusername i don't (but i can give you a good luck crystal) charles_leclerc i'll take anything at this point

mclaren

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 808,458 others

mclaren: WOOOOOOOOOOOO WE TAKE A 2 - 3 FINISH IN HUNGARY 🇭🇺 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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user26 i am bamboozled

user27 so .... it worked?

landonorris i have never said a bad word about y/n's hobby NEVER I LOVE YOU Y/N AND I LOVE THE MOON

oscarpiastri she's still MY girlfriend mate landonorris i am aware i am merely stating my appreciation for her

user28 i know the team just finally got their shit together... but YAAAAS WITCH SLAY

yourusername so so happy for you guys

oscarpiastri i love you so so so so much xxxxxxxx

user29 y/n is my driver of the day

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 68,349 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: i love you so. forever proud.

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user31 fave couple FOR REAL

landonorris fine yall are so cute

oscarpiastri finally, only took a few months

user32 i need something like this in my life

oscarpiastri i love you more.

yourusername anything for you. even asking the moon for help with cars.

danielricciardo once again i am asking to be turned into a real honey badger for a couple hours

maxverstappen1 i think it's time to give up danny

note: idk what this is but lol i had fun - i shall get to the requests next, hope you enjoy !!!

[blackbirdsblackberries]

What about reader x yandere bat family (platonic) but reader gave up on the family super fast like damian joined the family attacked the reader with the sword reader got hurt next time damian tried it he got throwen into a wall by reader with reader saying that is it I am leaving this shit family and sure jason might be bat mans greatest failure am I (reader) bruce waynes greatest failure!!!

Ahhh! I love this, I would honestly do the same as well! Like you neglect me then don't discipline your newest addition when he attacks me??

It has been six months since you left the manor, what did they expect? Honestly you were only waiting until you turned legal age to move out. Though you wouldn't lie and say you were still clinging onto the hope that they'll love you.

You've left your angst behind, what good is hating someone who doesn't remember you exist? You've made peace with it, you know you're loved by friends and the people who truly matter.

Saying that, it is befuddling when you hear a knock on the door at two in the morning and it's Red Hood there with take-out from Batburger. You aren't surprised or concerned they found your address, they're world's greatest detectives for a reason after all. If anything you're confused as to why one of them pays a visit.

Red Hood had taken your silence upon opening the door as a welcome and limps slightly into your apartment and collapses on the worn down couch. All while you stand at the open door, flabbergasted. Whether it's at the nerve of him to invite himself in or at the fact he's hear, injured, in costume and has take-away like it's an average night you can't decide.

You settle with both.

You hear him grunt and you quickly close the door and walk over to him, eyes narrowed. He looks at you, judgmentally. His helmet thrown into a corner of the room and a burger in his hands. Some of the sauce drips onto the couch and he swipes it up with his hand.

"You look like shit." Is all he says and you have to refrain yourself from punching him. If anything he looks like shit! You just woke up!

"What are you doing here." You ask, you weren't going to get into a petty argument over a comment from a stranger you once knew.

"Takin' ya back to the manor, duh." He says as if it was obvious and he takes another bite of his burger. You blank, what does he mean by that? Is he serious? Does he actually believe you want to go? Maybe he has amnesia and thought you two got along and you didn't blow up at the family and slap Tim? Either way you can't let him continue thinking like that.

"No. The fuck is wrong with you? Why would I go to a stranger's place?" The last part causes Jason to snap his head to you, his eyes narrowing.

"Strangers? We're you're family." You scoff at that, how much head trauma does he have? "Absolutely not. Do you not remember the whole blow up I had a couple months ago?"

"Mistakes happen."

... What? Mistakes happen? It wasn't a mistake! It doesn't matter how he meant it. Neglecting someone for most of their life isn't a mistake. That person then blowing up and leaving because they were mistreated isn't a mistake.

"Excuse me? Mistakes happen? Fucking get out of my apartment!" Okay, you lied earlier, you're still in your teenage angst phase - though it's definitely justified.

Jason sighs as if he's talking to a toddler who wanted a toy they couldn't have.

"Don't be so emotional. Your blow up earned our respect and we want you back. We let you play pretend for a couple months and now you need to get out of fantasy land and return home to your family."

Your jaw drops, what else could it do? You just heard the most insane thing come out of a stoic man's mouth. He was completely serious. Delusional. Utterly delusional.

"You prick! I don't think you understand. You guys fucked up and I don't want anything to do with your family- hey! Listen to me you zombie!" Jason was back to eating his burger, ignoring you. He throws a wrapped burger at you and you fumble with it.

You bite the inside of your cheek, he's more of a child then anyone you know! You throw the burger back down onto the table and glare at Jason.

"You don't get it. Of course you don't. Batman failed you, someone who you had a "co-workers" type relationship. You are Batman's biggest failure. But Bruce, he failed me. I am his biggest failure. I was forgotten about, looked down upon, left out, I suffered. And you know what's amazing? You were able to get revenge and end up loved but me, I couldn't get revenge, I'm not a villain of any kind! You say you and the family respect me so act like it and leave me be. I want nothing to do with any of you guys. Get out of my apartment and never return-"

Before you could finish Jason stands up and heads to the bathroom and takes a medkit out. You narrow your eyes, your fists clenched into balls and frustrated tears start to build in your eyes.

"Heard ya loud and clear so don't throw a tantrum! Just found it dumb how you think that." He states as he walks back to the couch and opens the medkit. "Now, care to tend to your older brother's wounds?"

You want to scream, cry, curse and stab this man in the face a million times. Instead you walk over and grab out disinfectant, you hate that you're doing this but you won't let him get an infection from his wounds.

You start to tend to his wounds and he speaks up again. "I get it. I do. We fucked up and it affected your childhood, we all had it rough and you didn't deserve that. But, give us a chance, you're a Wayne by blood, you won't be able to stay away from Gotham so why not live nicely in the manor? You could finally have what you wanted, you could finally have a family."

"Three big brothers, two younger brothers, an older sister, a dad! Don't you want to be loved by us? Don't you want our protection? We went through your diaries, we read every word. How you wished you could go to one of our rooms when you have a nightmare, how you wish for movie nights, how you want to be able to call us your family. Let us show you we had a change of heart, that we do want that with you now - that we always did but couldn't see it. Let us be your closest group-"

You slap him. What else was there to do? Tears pour down your cheeks.

"I thought I told Alfred to get rid of them..." You mutter. You never planned for them to read your diaries, to know your wants.

You hear Jason sigh before the sound of him pressing a button on his communicator, it's the last thing before your vision fades to black. He wishes he didn't have to resort to using the sticky device he stuck to your shirt when he threw the burger but it was clear you weren't listening.

Waking up with a pounding headache and no memories of last night is usually something that happens when people get wasted but you don't drink - you're underaged.

You groan as you open your eyes and take in your surroundings. It's a fancy bedroom - too fancy, too big. There's a picture hung up of the Wayne family with a picture of you taped to it to make it seem like you were in the picture.

You immediately panic and sit up, the bed is too big, the lights are too bright, the whole room is too much. You stand up and make your way to the door and put your ear against it for noise. You hear footsteps approaching and run back to bed and pretend to still be asleep.

The door opens and you hear a deep chuckle - Bruce's chuckle. He stalks over to the bed and gently runs a hand through your hair.

"Honey, I know you're awake. Don't be afraid, Dad's here now..." He coos. You open your eyes and move away from him, he frowns and sighs slightly. "I'm sorry, I know we should have gotten you back home sooner you just looked like you were having so much fun..."

He was acting like you living on your own was just a play-pretend? That you genuinely did it for fun? What is his problem?!

"Let me go! I swear to god Bruce, if you don't let me go I'll claw your eyes out!" You yell, Bruce tuts and shakes his head. "It's Dad to you. Now stop throwing a tantrum and come along, brunch is ready - you slept through breakfast."

With that he pulls you up from the bed and gently rests his hand between your shoulder blades and leads you downstairs to the dining room where everyone is; The head of the table reserved from Bruce, on the left it goes Dick, Tim, Cass and on the right it goes Jason, Duke, Damian, other end of the table.

You're led by Bruce and sit at the end of the table next to Damian who doesn't look at you and Cass who stares at you intently.

The stares from the others makes you want to vomit. Dick looks at you with pure adoration like he's looking at a defenseless puppy, Jason looks at you like how you'd look at a cute video of an animal, Tim looks at you calculatingly and Duke looks at you with a faint smile, his eyes a mix of emotions you don't want to decipher.

When Damian finally looks up it isn't with an irritated look, it's one of protectiveness, possessiveness and something akin to anger and guilt mixed together.

Clearly you've somehow imbedded yourself into their hearts, or atleast a version of you they created in their heads imbedded itself into their hearts and they weren't going to let you go any time soon.

[rileyslibrary]

“A barista?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I used to pretend play with my parents.”

He looks at you with one raised eyebrow. Confused. He surely knows what pretend play is; it can’t be.

“Y’know, taking their orders, then pretending to be making coffee and serving them.” You elaborate.

“Ah.” He nods.

The question was, “what did you want to be when you were young?”. You asked him, but he diverted the question back to you. He said he had to take watch while you two were sitting on the roof, waiting for the target to appear.

“What about you, Ghost?” You ask.

“Don’t know, kid,” he says as he looks through the sniper scope, “can’t remember much from my childhood.”

Of course, he doesn’t. Trauma does this to you. It doesn’t erase memories, but it suppresses them. Like you’re throwing piles upon piles of clothes in a closet. Only to find that its doors won't close one day and all the dirty, unorganised garments would come crashing down on you.

“Alright,” you say, “what would you like to do for a living if you weren’t doing this, then?”

He shifts from the scope and stares at the horizon. He’s thinking. Like nobody has asked him before. That or he never planned for the future. That’s what this job does to you.

He tilts his head back to the scope. “Open a pub.” He finally replies.

“Didn’t you role-play something like that with your parents?” You ask.

You know you’re approaching a dangerous territory in that brain of his, full of mines that they’d be best left untouched. But talking about you past is a good thing, especially when you’re with Ghost. You’re sorting out your mental closets together, cleaning them out and organising your thoughts like folding clothes on Spring cleaning day.

“My father was already a drunkard, darling,” he explains, “didn’t need my help with role-playing pub with me.”

You shrug. “Would you like to take my order as a practice?”

“Go on.” He says in a low tone.

“A glass of Sauvignon Blanc, please.”

“Sorry, love, we don’t sell shit like this here.”

“Ghost!” You laugh, “you can't talk to your customers like that.”

He huffs, but he’s enjoying it. He brings his hand towards you, his fingers pinching on a stem of an imaginary wine glass. “There you go.” He says, still focused on the scope. You touch his hand so he can sense that you’ve accepted the glass and thank him.

“Maybe we can combine the two ideas,” you contemplate, “a coffee shop by day and a pub by night.”

He lets a light chuckle. “We’ll need a license for the pub,” he explains, “sort of a pain in the ass to acquire it.”

“So you’ve looked into it, I see.”

“A couple of times,” he admits, “can’t live like this forever now, can you?”

You sigh and nod in agreement. “I’d visit your pub, Ghost.”

“Sure, as long as you pay for your drinks.”

“Of course, I will.”

“You sure?” He asks, “cause you didn’t pay me for that wine.” And extends his hand towards you.

You smile and place imaginary money in his palm, and he grasps your hand.

“Promise me,” he says, “that you’d leave this job while you’re still alive and jolly.”

You look at his hand with your mouth open, but no words come out. He squeezes your hand, begging for an answer.

“I-I’ve got nowhere else to go, Lt.” You manage to utter.

“Sure you have,” he says, “a whole life ahead of you.”

He lets your hand and grasps the rifle.

“Will you come visit my coffee shop?” You ask.

“If I’m alive till then, I promise I will,” he replies, “now get ready; our target’s approaching.”

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

There's an anger in me (I think I learned it from you)

hope here needs a humble hand - series masterlist here

pairing: platonic bruce wayne x reader, platonic dick grayson x reader

length: 1.9k

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

warnings: reader and dick get into a fight and dick is so mean. reader definitely has trauma and issues but Good Dad Bruce Wayne is here so it's fine and also Big Brother Dick in the end

a/n: I'm not a dick grayson hater but I do think he'd be the biggest bitch and say the meanest shit in a fight. anyway life is kicking my ass so bad rn so idk if this is even any GOOD but you can have it <3

Alfred sighs to himself, a disapproving sort of frown finding its way onto his face as he listens to your raised voice, you and Dick butting heads again. It's not uncommon for you to find reason to argue with the others, but it is tiresome - frustrating to him that you can't seem to lay down this constant fight of yours that you live with.

And Dick? Well, as he spits an insult back and you and you shove at his chest, Alfred idly thinks that maybe he's your worst target so far. Dick Grayson may be kind under typical circumstances, but anger like this brings out the worst in him.

"At least Bruce wanted me," he snaps at you. "You just shoved your way in."

That doesn't just stop you, it stops everyone in their tracks. It especially stops Bruce, who had come into the Cave when he'd gotten word from Alfred about another fight. And there's just… silence at first. You, staring up at Dick with wide, hurt eyes while his anger slowly melts, regret replacing it.

"Hey, I didn't mean -" but you don't stay to listen, fleeing past Bruce and out of the Cave, despite his calls of your name. You don't stick around to hear the way Bruce rips into Dick about it, berating him for even suggesting such a thing, before he follows you up to the Manor. 

Alone in your room, with the walls closing in on you and your lungs squeezing painfully, your breath catches as you hear footsteps approaching. Bruce's knocks on your door are as gentle as the way he calls your name, asking you to please open the door.

You don't.

How can you? He's right, he's right, he's right - Bruce didn't want you. How much trouble have you caused since you got here? - too much, your brain supplies. And Dick is right, Bruce didn't want you… he couldn't have. You, with your headstrong determination, pushing your way into anything and everything that you'd ever wanted. You, with your heels always dug in and your arms always crossed and your shoulders always squared. How could he possibly want that?

You pace behind your locked door, pulling on your hair as your breath quickens, words you've heard a million times running through your head.

Spoiled, selfish, stubborn -

Bruce's voice on the other side of the door isn't enough to drown it out, his promises of, "I love you, we all love you. Dick didn't mean that, and he'll apologize to you when you're ready. Please come out, sweetheart… I love you, and you have always been wanted by me. You've always been wanted by this family."

You stare at the door as if glaring hard enough would make it soundproof, your breath still coming out in short little gasps as you clench your fists, nails digging into the skin of your palms. You watch through blurred vision as Bruce's shadow shifts and darkens under the door - you watch as he settles on the other side of the wood, determined not to leave you to do this alone.

"You come out whenever you're ready, sweetheart," he says gently. "I'll be here."

You scoff, turning abruptly away from the door - away from him. He won't stay - he won't, he won't, he won't -

"I won't leave you." Bruce's voice is heard again and you squeeze your eyes shut. It's like he knows, and you can't figure out how, can't fathom the idea that he really has been paying attention all this time, that he knows you and your ticks and your traumas. You curl up on top of your bed, determined to just shut down until it's all over - until he gives up and leaves you be. Maybe then you can leave, too - leave for real. Maybe it would all be better if you slipped out quietly, off into the city, into someone else life and away from this one. Maybe there really wasn't room for you in this family.

When you wake later, the first thing you're forced to notice is the throbbing behind your eyes and the light that streams in through the window, the sun beginning to set and bathing you in a halo-like glow. Sitting up, you notice a shadow still stationed on the other side of your door, having stayed, unmoving, for as long as you'd been hiding. 

Getting up slowly, you make your way to it, sitting down with your back against the door and letting your head thump rather loudly against the wood of it. It's only then that Bruce moves, shifting on the other side. You clench your fists on your lap as words get caught on their way out. I'm sorry, I love you, thank you for staying.

"Why are you still there?" Is all that ends up coming out, the words harsh as they cut through the air. You flinch at hearing them, your own voice hatefully foreign to you.

"Because I love you," Bruce says simply, like it's such an easy thing. "And I promised I wouldn't leave you." You sit still after that, turning what he's said over in your mind again and again and again before standing abruptly and wrenching your door open, relying on Bruce's reflexes to get himself up and standing by the time you do.

Fortunately, he's always been a little faster than you, always a little better. By the time you're looking at him, he's standing in your doorway, his shoulders slumped as he slouches down to look you in the eye. He's making himself smaller, you realize, something that feels like regret eating away at you. He's making himself small and it's your fault. 

But Bruce isn't looking at you like he blames you, and the way he ever so gently puts his hands on your shoulders and presses a kiss to the crown of your head speaks only of love. Only of forgiveness. You stand straighter when he does, a silent urge for him to do this same - for him to be tall for you. Maybe then, you wouldn't have to be.

"It's true, though, isn't it? You ask, something pained in your voice that you can't quite hide. 

"It's not." There's a way he says it, like it's written in some holy text somewhere and he's promising it now because faith demands it. "You are always wanted here. And you always will be."

"What if I never believe that?"

"Then we'll keep telling you." You shoot Bruce a look at his assuredness, one that just makes him smile down at you.

"Even Dick?" You ask, uneasiness finding its home in you despite your clenched fists and set jaw.

"Especially Dick, he answers easily. "I'm sure he'll spend a very long time trying to make up for this. He never means it, you know - there's this anger in him that he can't quite shake sometimes." Your shoulders slump at his words and you drop your chin, eyes trained on the floor.

"Yea," your voice is bitter. "That, I understand."

You find, later that night, that you wish Dick didn't care quite so much. Your mask covers your face, the hard set of your jaw and the annoyance that pulls down your brows, but in the faint moonlight of the docks, you're sure Dick can see the taught pull of your shoulders.

Thank god it's a slow night, you find yourself thinking as you perch on the edge of a rooftop, kicking your legs over the edge. You know he's around, watching and waiting and trying to find a moment to approach you. You think you'll have to find the moment for him when Nightwing finally sits next to you, his movements silent and slow. He looks at you long and hard, his own eyes hidden behind his mask as you stare out at the water, waiting for him to decide how this will all go.

"I don't always say the right thing," is what he ends up confessing. "And it wasn't fair for you to be on the receiving end of that. I'm… sorry."

"I started it," you say simply. "You shouldn't apologize for biting back."

"No," Dick says carefully, tapping his finger on his thigh. "But I should apologize for how I did it." You look at him, then, eyes searching his face and cursing the masks you both wear, layers of protection against anyone who would try to know you.

"Did you mean it?" You finally ask. "Is it true? Because if it is… if it is, then you should only apologize for lying to me up till now."

"It's not," Dick answers, and there's something in the clear ring of his voice that reminds you of Bruce. Your lips twitch into a smile as you think of how unhappy he'd be to find that out. "Things with Bruce and I… well, I'm sure you know they weren't always good." 

"I don't actually know everything," you huff back. "Even my eavesdropping has limitations - especially with all of you. You're a lot harder to hide from than everyone else." Dick grins at that, a self-satisfied sort of thing that makes you regret speaking.

"Well, it's lucky, I guess," he goes on. "The Bruce you know now - he's a lot better than he was in the beginning."

"Don't you think we all are?" You ask before you can stop yourself, eyes snapping back out to the water as you desperately try to close yourself off from him, heart hammering at the response you're sure to get. There is no part of you that's getting better. There is no part of you that can be good. But Dick just readjusts how he's sitting, sliding closer so that your shoulders bump and he can tap your hands with his own, a silent chide for the way you twist your fingers nervously.

"You're right," he says plainly, and suddenly you're glad for the masks. You're not sure what would happen if you looked over and saw that big brother, sick-with-pride look he's so fond of. "When Jason came along, it felt a bit too much like being replaced. I know it was a long time ago, but… maybe I still feel it a bit more than I should - whenever anyone new comes along. It's not your fault… it's not your fault and I'm glad you're here."

You sigh at his words, tipping back until you're laying on the rooftop, your legs still kicking over the edge as you pretend to look up at the stars, blinking tears away rapidly behind your mask. You're sure he knows, but you're also sure he's too kind to say anything, laying back with you and interlocking his hands behind his head to lean on.

There's a lot you think you should say right now. I'm sorry, I love you, thank you for coming back for me. Thank you for not leaving me behind. Thank you for not giving up on me. 

"What are you hanging around here tonight for, anyway?" Is what comes out instead, but you find you aren't so bothered by it this time.

"Want me to stick around? Finish your patrol with you?" Is his only answer. You huff.

"I don't need help taking care of the docks. I've been doing that longer than I've been involved with you idiots." Dick laughs, loud enough that you groan and roll away from him, standing up and crossing your arms. 

"Well, you never know, then," he responds easily as he swings himself to his feet. "Maybe we could learn something from each other."

"Fine," you snipe back, but you can't help the way you bounce on the balls of your feet, a weight you hadn't realized you'd been carrying starting to lift. "Maybe we can."

[cosmic-espero]

I can't stop thinking about how Ryuji literally suffered a life altering injury (that clearly causes him chronic pains) and complete social isolation because of Kamoshida and yet he still:

Feels unsettled by the idea of potentially murdering someone, no matter how much they deserve it, and

Puts literally everyone's trauma with Kamoshida before his, including the track team that did not hesitate to dump him the moment he became (in their eyes) dead weight.

And this isn't even the only time this happens- Ryuji constantly treats his traumas, no matter their nature, as less important than others'.

His father's abuse and consequent abandonement are mentioned like once, and through the game Ryuji repeatedly puts himself in physical danger and dismisses his safety as lesser for the sake of others, to the point it's literally a pattern.

Examples of this behaviour include:

Trying to distract Kamoshida's guards to allow Ren to run away (and we're not getting into how this mirrors Ren getting into trouble to save a woman he doesn't know, nor how he will do this again by awakening Kidd specifically to save Ren and Morgana)

Willingly going back to the metaverse to try and save the volleyball team, and then putting himself under the spotlight in the real world by openly asking them to testify against Kamoshida

Dismissing his pain when his leg gives out under him while they're running away from the collapsing castle

Offering to stay still as the track team beats him up, willingly accepting the scapegoating and believing himself to be actually responsible

Jumping in front of a taxi to run to the rescue of a girl who had threatened to get him into legal trouble unless he helped take a mafia boss down

Choosing to put himself in danger by running to unlock the safeboats on Shido's sinking ship, only to make fun of the team for crying for him (does he not get why they were crying, or does he think his death isn't worth crying over? A question that makes the out of character and entirely unfunny scene where the girls beat the shit out of him even more heartbreaking)

Saving Ren and Akechi (a guy he openly hates) by refusing Maruki's reality and shielding them by taking a hit in their stead

And I might be missing something because I just. Listed these points off the top of my head. His entire character (despite the way the game semi-regularly tries to slander and mistreat him for the funnies) is centered around self sacrifice and he isn't even an adult yet.

I don't even know where I'm going with this. It's just... Ryuji, man.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I guess maybe cause we have a lot of the same issues & he was around recently before I started fronting, but I think about Loki a lot sometimes, n how drastically he changed during the time he was co-host.

How desperate for connection n approval he is, when like me he's also just. On a different wavelength than most people around us. Never could figure out the problem but he used to be so much more likely than the rest of us to try n take interest in other people's interests, to go out of his way to do things for em, but somehow just mostly got it wrong n was met with criticism instead. Or ignored, but that's also what happened when he (at least as far as we could tell) got it right. I'd get it if it caused more work for the people instead of being helpful, but it was always useless at worst?

Like idk maybe him pointing out the things came off as him...expecting praise for some very basic or low effort things he did or something? But it was never about that, he just wanted to be seen. He was just as if not more content seeing people even a little bit happy about it than he was being thanked. He just wanted the connection.

He burnt out n stopped trying pretty fast. He doesn't do things for others anymore. He might, if he's directly asked to n given enough info that he trusts he won't fuck it up somehow, but it goes to the absolute bottom of his priorities. He doesn't try to strike up conversation, definitely not about things he's not into but the other person at least was at some point. Just...doesn't try to connect. His life's on a parallel line to anyone else's n sometimes there might be a brief, coincidental overlap but it doesn't mean much anymore.

I more or less started out from that point. Maybe that's partially where this constant fucking feeling of isolation came from. I don't like being asked to do anything. I'm hyperaware of being ignored n what kinda topics that happens with. I face everything n everyone with the assumption they don't care about anythin I have to say unless it's in (the right kinda) response to what they're saying, though even then I need to learn to cut it off at one or two sentences. It's supposed to be a reply, not a conversation. That when people speak to me they want to talk to me, not with me. Acknowledge it to show you're listening n invested but don't take up time. Which...funnily enough is exactly what Val's always told me. I kinda hate how my ADHD tendency to ramble still gets out of hand all the damn time n I only catch it when it's too late, n how my natural way of processing things is by talkin about em.

I mean. I'm assuming there's gotta be somethin that I'm reading wrong in the situations. Somethin that makes what I say or do weird n I guess off-putting. It's not a new problem, it's (part of) why we never had that many friends n when we did they usually got sick of us after a couple of years. But no one will tell us what it is n after over 20 years of tryin to crack it we're just fucking tired. I know it's some kinda personality disorder + neurotype + trauma combo but it just doesn't feel worth it try anymore when it takes so fucking much energy to try n get it right just for the Russian roulette of havin either a genuine interaction or a new step in my downward spiral. I just got no way to know which one it's gonna be til it happens n a lot of the time I end up wishing I didn't take the risk. I'm too fucking fragile for it.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Scars.

Pairing: Astarion x reader Genre and warnings: angst, lots of it, hurt barely any comfort, allusions to sexual assault, past trauma, graphic description of torture, kidnapping, blood, violence, set in act 3, mention of death. Notes: not proof read ngl, i wrote it after dreaming it, and i didnt even wanna read it again, i cried like a bitch cause it’s kinda like…. past experience projected? just yeah dont ask if im ok after writing this, the answer is no lmao... also just a side note since it’s the first time im posting on this profile, but english is not my first language so please be mindful about it. Edit 10/06/23: i finally went through it end edited it.. i hope i catched all the errors cause idk if i'll ever be strong enough to give it another read ahah

Getting so close to someone meant so much for Astarion, and the more he cared, the more new fears would swim through his brain. 

Since you arrived in the lower city, and his bed was no longer cold at night, a new nightmare snuck in.

The idea that Cazador would be able to get to you, and weaponize you against him, made his cold blood run even colder. Several nights you woke up to a trembling and sweating Astarion, as he was begging for mercy. He never explained too much about these nightmares to you, just letting you know it was about Cazador again and again, but he left out the haunting possibility of you getting hurt because of him. On the other hand you believed it was because you were getting so close to the Szarr palace, and Cazador knew about it just as much as Astarion did.

It was the middle of the night when the sound of a broken glass stirred you awake. You looked around you, Astarion still deep into his meditating state, while the others were asleep as well, none of them reacted to the sound like you did. Maybe you just had a light sleep, you thought, and someone in the tavern dropped a few glasses or something. It was when hands gripped your wrists that you jolted up, looking behind you. It was too dark to see, and all you could spot were the deep red eyes, like Astarion's, though they lacked the warmth of his.

A shiver ran through your spine as you realized what was happening, but when you tried to call for the others, you realized how deep in shit you actually were: no sound would leave your lips, like you were silenced.

"There's no need to be afraid, Tav." A deep cold voice whispered so close to your ear. "They can't hear you".

The voice chuckled at your failed attempts to call for Astarion, Karlach or anyone, as tears were starting to pool at the edge of your eyes.

Another pair of hands took hold of Astarion, magical shackles fastened around his hands and feet, just as they did to yours, and then they started dragging you both away.

The deep voice spent the whole travel taunting you with stories of Cazador, how cold blooded he was, and just how much he enjoyed torturing his victims. From one point of view you were already accustomed with such stories about him, but from the other, the idea of Cazador getting hold of Astarion again, made your blood freeze again. You were not going to let Cazador hurt him again. You were set on the idea.

When you reached the corridors of Cazador's palace, the silencing spell finally wore off, though Astarion was still not moving. Terror flashed through your eyes as you wondered if they had already…

"What did you do to him?!" You breathed out as you tried so hard to keep your calm in front of the spawns that were dragging and pushing you through the dark hallways.

The spawn scoffed as he pushed through and through.

"Don't worry, he's not dead" You could feel his eyes rolling at the question, like it was some dumb question you should have known the answer to. "..yet" he added at last.

You couldn't stop your mouth from twitching, between the state of rage that was slowly building up, or the terror of them hurting Astarion.

"What's going on? Can i know that at least?" You wanted so bad to cast a spell on him, charming him into freeing you, but without the use of your hands, you were useless.

"Cazador wants to give you a warm welcome into Baldur's gate" He giggled, as the smell of old blood mixed with the sour taste of the bile threatening to spill from your lips, and you couldn't hold it anymore, and your feelings started spilling out.

You couldn't help then to try and get Astarion free at least. You wanted to shake those hands off of you, to wiggle out of the shackles that bound your magic, but no matter how much you tried, you were like set in stone, unable to do anything but move forward, shed tears, and talk. Or more specifically, beg.

Beg them to hurt you, instead of Astarion. 

Beg them to keep you here, and let your star free.

Beg them to turn you if needed, but spare Astarion's life.

Anything, if it meant not hurting the man that stole your heart with a dagger to your throat.

Quickly you were tossed in a cage, adjacent to Astarion's, and locked in.

The shackles that bound your feet dissipated, as the cage started ascending upward.

It halted in front of an altar, you guessed, that directly faced into the chasm you ascended from. Other spawns, around twenty you were able to count, started taking seats around the edges, sitting all in religious silence on their knees.

Astarion was still passed out, cradled on the floor of the cage, both restraints still tightly bound to him.

"Please, please, please" You cried out as the last bit of your strength was going to be dedicated towards trying to get Astarion free, far away from this place. "Let Astarion go, i beg you" You repeated your plea again, as you saw all those spawns stir from their seats, they wanted to turn their heads, to face whoever was foolish enough to beg Cazador for mercy, to trade spots with Astarion.

Everyone in that room knew what was going to happen, he was going to show them what happens when you disobey, when you run away thinking you can escape him. Instead you were so foolish and blinded by love, that you wanted to take Astarion's place, unaware of the extent that Cazador would go to. Yet you didn't stop, you kept begging and begging until a voice, the voice, echoed through the altar's walls.

"Tsk you just gave me a wonderful idea" the man hummed as his scepter started glowing, and Astarion started stirring awake, he looked around him, his tired eyes quickly widening as the reality around him had set in his mind.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch" Astarion growled as he stood up so quick, and gripped at the iron bars separating him from Cazador. 

"Touch her and I swear I'll spill your guts right here" He spit out of the cage, a symbolic spit cause you were too far away to reach him.

"My, my, our dear Astarion has forgotten all the manners" He cooed as his lips smacked together, his voice so honeyed it was bringing you to the verge of vomit.

You wanted to reassure Astarion, let him know that you were going to do your best to free him, that you were both going to be out of there alive soon, but could you? Could you lie so much to the man you loved? Words were stuck on your tongue, making your throat drier and drier.

You guessed you zoned out for a few seconds as your head was flooded with thoughts, missing the hate Astarion was throwing at his master.

"Ah sweet Astarion, your dear Tav has given us a great idea though, it would be a shame to let it go to waste" He hummed, as the staff light up again, the lock on your cage fell down the chasm, as your trembling body was slowly being dragged out of the cage by magic.

"No, no, no, no" Astarion reprated as his eyes locked on you, falling on the long streaks of tears running down your cheeks as you tried to offer him a sad smile, your lips muttering an "it's going to be okay" while his body was about to give in to desperation, loud sobs echoed from him, as your heart broke at his sight: he was barely standing up now, his hand gripped tight as he screamed through the hall to let you go, to not hurt you, to stop. "This is just a nightmare" He fell on his knees as you were slowly dropped on the cold floor, barely keeping your head up as you realized you were still in his shirt, the one he loved on you.

"Oh dear Astarion" Cazador cooed again as he kneeled in front of you, his cold fingers getting ahold of your chin, to tilt your head towards his. "This is not a nightmare, this is real" His words were like cold daggers through your chests, you knew that whatever was going to happen, it was not going to be fun.

Before you could say anything, Cazador's hand slipped to your waist pulling on the shirt as you flinched away, disgusted by the touch of the vampire in front of you.

But he didn't care, he was swift in removing it, leaving you bare in front of dozens of eyes.

You could hear the rattling coming from Astarion's cage as he attempted to break free over and over again while his chest was about to explode.

He didn't have the right to undress you in front of everyone, he didn't have the right to touch you at all, not when he prayed every night to have the chance to see you bare, to hold you. His thoughts were swinging back and forth between desperation and deep seethed rage.

"My, my I can see why our Astarion has fallen for this little creature" Cazador's compliment almost made you retch as you stumbled back a little. "She even puts up a fight" He chuckled as he lunged forward just enough to grip at your wrist and whipping you on your feet.

Every inch of your skin was visible to everyone, from the battle scars you got through the years of adventuring, to the teeth marks on your neck, down to the stretchmarks that lived on your hips.

A shiver ran through your spine as Cazador’s fingers grazed over the two marks on your neck. “Mh, your blood seems to be sweet enough, right Astarion?” His cruel words hit Astarion through the chest. He was one word away from a breakdown as he couldn’t do anything but witness his nightmares coming alive, not his Tav, not when he would be so careful to cradle you and comfort you to his chest whenever he'd drink from you.

Whatever he was screaming was incomprehensible to you, as all you could feel was the way Cazador gripped and pushed you towards a plush chair, where he sat with legs wide open before dragging you on his lap. You felt so nauseous as he bent you towards the arm rest, making you face the cold grey floor.

You wanted to hear the taunting explanation of what he was going to do, but all the sounds were drowned by the thrumming of your chest and the desperation in your own thoughts, repeating over and over that you were going to find a way out, trying to convince your brain to shut off and dissociate as you were there, like you were just in a nightmare, and you’d be awake soon.

All you could gather was few words like “knife”, “mark”, reminder”, and then “Astarion”. He was torturing him through you, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The worst part in this, was that you were the one that gave him the idea, cause you wanted him to free Astarion, and instead he let it all out on you instead than on your Aster, as a punishment for you both. You cause you were so careless to offer yourself though you didn't know the risk, and Astarion for being reckless and disobedient. Right there, as the dagger pierced your spine, you regretted not whispering Astarion how much you loved him, while you were tight against his chest, when the world around you was asleep, and you had a corner of peace. You always knew what you felt for him, from that moment on the beach, at the shipwreck, and yet you just wanted to tell him in the right moment. But what was the right moment? You might never know, as a broken scream broke through your lips, salty tears flowing free, so much that you thought for a moment that you might have died of dehydration, if the knife wasn’t going to do it first.

He carved and carved over your back, intelligible lines and symbols as you finally understood what Astarion meant when he told you how he got his scars. How gut wrenching the pain was as he couldn’t move, and how Cazador didn't allow a break, and retraced the lines that were wobbly if he moved too much.

“You know?” Cazador asked, as everyone’s eyes were on what he thought was a work of art, your carved skin, while Astarion’s plea echoed over and over in the room. “Our sweet Astarion used to whine just like you” He hummed. “Just a pathetic little child” He spit out like venom as you could barely breathe out few words along the lines of “you disgusting monster”, though you were not sure you actually let them out until, Cazador’s laugh filled every corner of the disgraced altar. Your tadpole writhed as another line was cut at the height of your hips, before, Cazador started retracing the lines and pulling away the skin, exposing the deepest layers of your flesh, the pain was so deep your vision blurred, and you were so close to passing out right there.

You don’t know how long you sat there, you slipped between pain and numbness as Cazador slapped you back to consciousness whenever you'd slip away, you had to endure the agonizing scarring and remember every second of it. He decorated with bloody lines almost all over your body.

You didn’t know what was worse between laying on the raw scars of your back, seeing your own skin being peeled away or the cries and sobs coming from the man you loved. You had to find a way, you couldn’t give up, you couldn’t allow this monster to walk the earth again. You had to do it for Astarion.

You were not sure when he dropped you on the floor, your body barely able to hold itself together as finally you could look around you and towards Astarion. Every face around you was stoic, like they were used to witnessing such spectacle, and they knew what was going to happen next.

You wanted to reach for Astarion, to take him away from the revolting scene in front of his eyes, you wanted to take away his pain, give him the last bit of hope you had, but when you were about to link your tadpole to his to do it, you hesitated. Connecting your minds meant he would feel how dirty, wretched and lost you felt, along with the gut wrenching pain ebbing through your body.

You could barely make out the words Cazador said as his nails dig through your skin again, even when he pulled your eyes to his you could barely read his lips as he said words you just wanted to cancel from your brain. A broken sob regurgitated from your throat as he was going to take the last thing you had. You just had to let your brain go, right? To ignore the teeth dipping in your throat and the putrid hands slithering down your skin, taking away enough blood to barely keep you alive as he took you in front of everyone.  It was no longer just physical pain, it was the way you felt your own body being stolen away and used in way no one ever dared before.

Numbness was all that was left of you after a while, of your barely beating heart while more hands crawled their way through places were you never wanted anyone to touch, then, in that moment, you realized you were free of your shackles, because you were so drained and broken that you could barely do anything. You could barely by aware of your surroundings, of how many bodies were preying on you, as you could barely manage to move inches.

Your vision was all but clear, you could make out the outline of Cazador as he was buttoning up his blouse again. Then you could see Astarion, still caged, struggling to stay sane as he wanted just to take you away from the monsters abusing of you, abusing of the fact that you were powerless in front of them. His eyes were a bloodshot, he was so hurt that he resorted to supplicate for mercy, to let you go and just kill him, whatever that could stop the agonizing pain. You didn’t have much strength left, maybe if you put all of yourself, you could muster two spells before passing out again. 

It took all you had to even raise your hand towards the lock that sealed Astarion’s crate, you mustered all your willpower to cast that knock spell, just enough to let the damn lock fall down. Astarion instantly turned to you, to your teary form still being touched by unworthy creatures, noticing how your hand barely held up, as you tried to cast one more spell, just for him, before another broken scream echoed in the room, bouncing from wall to wall till it reached Astarion's core. The kind of scream that should never be drawn by someone, nevertheless by you.

The radiant dagger materialized in his hands, and for a moment he didn’t notice it as he was fixated on the broken look on your face, encouraging him to end his master, although you suffered right there, paces away. “I love you” You mutter barely, you wanted to let him know before you could draw your last breath, then everything blurred.

Everything was muffled, you couldn’t see what was going on around you, you just felt all the presences around you disappear, while Astarion’s voice was crystal clear through the excruciating pain.

"I'll kill you, then I'll bring you back, and kill you again.” He shoved Cazador on the floor, just like he did with you, to remind him how he hurt you, how he used you, how he touched the only person he should have never laid hands on. “I’ll do it over and over again until you have suffered a tenth of what you did to her. Then I'm going to gut you one more time, and paint this shithole with your putrid blood. The halls of this place will reek with your disgusting blood, to let the whole city be aware of your death and from which the hands it came from” His hands were shaky, but he had to do it. For him, but mainly for you. All that was left of him was you, and nothing could ever be enough to vindicate you.

The shiny dagger stabbed over and over again through Cazador’s chest, while Astarion cursed him, every thrust of the dagger through the heart earned a new mocking insult, a new reminder of what he did, while all of Astarion's anger was channeled into annihilating him.

You just laid there, all you could do was listen to the grunts and the hate slipping from your lover’s lips as he dipped that dagger in the gutted body. You didn’t even realized when he dropped the disemboweled body on the marble, you weren’t even sure you could breathe, at that point.

A pair of shaking arms wrapped around your drained body, Astarion’s shirt was used again to cover your skin, as he picked you up, trying to be as delicate as possible. His salty tears fell over your body as he carried away from the nauseating scene, you frail body barely shivering, and your chest barely moving. He was muttering something to you, but everything sounded foreign at your hear.

He had to move quickly, find Shadowheart or Halsin, or anyone to heal you, to keep you alive. It was in this moment that he wished he could beg a deity to keep you alive, but he didn’t trust anyone else to tend you. He needed to rush outside of this place and get you to safety. 

He didn’t expect to see everyone outside the locked ballroom door, as they fumbled to open the door. They were taken by surprise at the sight of Astarion cradling you to his chest, all covered in blood, while his eyes were a pit of pain and tears.

Shadowheart didn’t hesitate to heal you right there before they all guided you towards the tavern you've been resting. They all offered to carry you, to make Astarion breathe a bit while on your way back there, but he refused. “I can’t..” He mumbled. “I don’t want..” His voice was just a whisper, broken. “I need” He wanted to break down again with you in his arms, but he had to lay you down first, to let you rest in a warm bed, he had to bring you to safety again, away from anyone that could pose any harm to you. He needed to see that smile again, cause no power flowing through his veins could have replaced you. He failed you once, he was not going to do it again. You saved him, twice, he had to do it just once for you. He had to thank you, and he had to tell you how much he loved you.

[shutuperce]

your fall 2023 byler reading list 🍂🍂

BIG BYLER FIC REC DUMP cause i haven't been writing a lot but i HAVE been reading and y'all need to read these! hope u enjoy as much as i did <3

got your spell on me, baby - @astrobei -Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 7,919

TW: none

'To be fair, Will’s costume is great, now that Mike knows what it is. And, okay, wait-

“Oh, this is so good. This is so good.” Max points at Mike, wheezing. “Because you’re dressed as-”

Will’s still looking straight up at the sky. The length of his neck is very, very flushed. Mike can feel his entire face going redder than Vader’s lightsaber. He clenches his hands into tiny little fists, and says, around a groan: “I’m not Han Solo, guys.”'

THE halloween byler fic. the party at college, bi lucas sinclair content, halloween party shenanigans.

these nerds, using star wars to flirt 🙄

background lumax & their amazing couples costume, el & will power sibling duo!!!

bowie references to heal the soul

all in all one of my favourite getting-together fics for this time of year :)

what a match: i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet - @perexcri - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 28,150

TW: guns, blood, gore (just demodogs though no human gore)

'One month ago, if you had asked Will Byers what he’d do if Mike Wheeler threaded his fingers through his hair, looked him dead in the eyes, and started leaning in for a kiss, he wouldn’t have said this.

He wouldn’t have said he’d be staring right back into those yawning dark eyes, one hand on Mike’s waist, the other against his cheek. There wouldn’t have been any lightning in his veins or blood rushing in his ears.

He wouldn’t have said that Mike Wheeler would be tilting his head in the opposite direction, eyes widening just the slightest as if asking permission, his mouth slightly parted.

He wouldn’t have imagined it at all.'

SO SO GOOD. apocalypse post s4, background jancy and platonic stobin, interruption trope x10000 so it's SO SATISFYING at the end.

WILL WITH A GUN.

jonathan & mike solidarity <3

all in all amazingly well written mike and will being blushing messes. love them. fluff in the apocalypse.

take my hand, wreck my plans - @parkitaco - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 6,297

TW: discussion of past trauma

'"I am not taken," he says out of habit, even though he kind of is. He and Will aren't together - he blushes at the thought - but they do spend an awful lot of time together, and Mike doesn't ever find himself wishing he was anywhere else. "Will and I are-"

"Ooh, I didn't even say anything about Will!" Max crows. "Oh, this is excellent."

Mike hides his face in his hands even though she can't see him. "Oh my God. Can you put Lucas back on, please?"

Max cackles in to the receiver, the sound fading as Lucas presumably wrenches the phone out of her grip. "We gotta go, Mike," he says, laughing a little. "Max has class and I'm driving her."

"Tell her she's the worst," Mike grumbles, fiddling with the phone cord.

"Say hi to Will for me!" Lucas sings, and hangs up before Mike can protest.

Mike groans and flops back on his mattress. It's going to be a long year.'

part of a series!! byler college au, friends-to-lovers, background party friendship, AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES??

taylor swift title... do u really need any other persuasion

the whole series is just AMAZING. mike & will getting a break, living together at college and figuring shit out <3

i might be hoping about this - @astrobei - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 15,321

TW: none

'Will lets out a small squawk as Mike’s hand— his very cold, very freezing hand— finds its way around the blankets and under his sweater. “I’m sick, you weirdo,” he says, half-laughing into the side of Mike’s head, “I have a fever.” 

“I don’t care,” Mike mumbles, “you’re warm and I’m cold. This is nice.”

“You’re going to get sick,” Will tries, for the umpteenth time, but it’s pointless. Mike Wheeler is stubborn and hardheaded and he never does anything halfway— not even this.'

established byler at college!! so yeah i have a love of college byler and this is one of my top fics for sure. 2nd astrobi fic on this list because i love their writing <3

will gets sick, mike takes care of him. need i say more?

silly goofy guys living together & doing silly goofy domestic shit

this fic makes me SOFT.

accidentally on purpose - @itsromeowrites - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 5,019

TW: none

'It starts out with a kiss. An accidental kiss. Because Mike is sleepy and Will is pretty, and who can really blame him? And then there's another one, just as accidental. But the third? Well, that may be a little more on purpose.'

literally smiling so hard at this fic. like hello. soft secret boyfriends and loads of party content, all the kids are okay <3

established byler, how the party finds out. all fluff all the time. jonathan attempts the Talk. mike has no idea what's going on. et cetera.

background lumax, lucas & dustin being lil shits together, and el using her powers to cheat at splashing games. all in all a good time!

and if I get burned, at least we were electrified - anonymous - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 14,958

TW: none

'“I’ll leave you be until lunch,” Max starts negotiating, nodding at him as if that’s a good deal. Which—considering it's Max, it is, but Mike doesn’t want to give in just yet. She sighs. “I won’t laugh about the sweater anymore. Or the weak disposition that gives you stupid allergies all the time.”

Mike’s frown deepens, but she wasn’t as mean as she could have been, so he’s gonna take it. He needs to get this out anyways, or he’s going to keep running in circles as if stuck in a hamster wheeler—an accurate representation of his brain when it comes to Will, really. He presses his lips together and tries to figure out a subtle, non-funny way to say it, but he comes up blank.

Fuck, whatever: “I almost kissed Will. Again.”

Max actually has to cover her mouth with her hand, disguising a worryingly loud snort with a cough. The teacher turns their way and stares, then goes back to explaining the exercise on the board. Mike scribbles it down while Max gets herself under control.

Screw his life.'

senior year, post-vecna. the party being friends but also little shits to each other.

madwheeler bandmates!!!

will steals mike's entire closet

they are Dumb Idiots who are mutually pining from afar

and other lovable tropes. takes place in november so good fall vibes :)

[abookloverlmao]

When you’re lost in the darkness look for the light—

warning: father-daughter relationship, mention of death, depression, school shooting, swearing, heavy topics, blood, kidnapping, reader is 19 years old or early 20s, family loss, trauma, ANGSTY!

My birthday passed and I miss my dad and love Price so here you have this angsty piece, grab tissues, you have been warned!

🤍

Price is a father- was actually.

Father of 10 year old Ruby who passed during a school shooting, did it take toll on his life? Yes... yes, it did.

Did he get married and have another kid? absolutely not. Always just a one night stand.

Price never thought he would have a kid, hell even handle one ever again after his was gone, his sweet Ruby– until.

A sarcastic and violent fourteen year old holding a sniper gun and hidden away from the world in a cabin a little away from the base that was attacked appeared.

At first like a pain in the ass but as times went by, she became the rest of his uncompleted soul, like the light in his dark life.

From being a smartass to him, to being a soldier under his wing.

And being a soldier under his wing means getting into trouble sometimes and getting yelled at by him, he didn't want to lose the one girl who like his Ruby.

After almost getting shot, she found herself in Price's office listening to his scolds, staying silent and moving the pen across the paper knowing better than to argue back.

“I know I ain't your damn dad, do I need to tell Ghost to always keep an eye on you because you can't take care of your own self?” He sneered causing her to stop and look up, giving him a frown.

oh…

it was always her saying that she knows he’s not her dad sarcastically just for him to retort back a “do you?” but she never thought it will be the other way around.

she stayed silent before opening her mouth to murmur a small “do you?” now that made him freeze.

His gruff demeanor softened a little but then hardened and he scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

“I…” he started, Price's brow furrowed, and he leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples, "Don't get all sentimental on me, kid," he grumbled, his tone gruff.

“I ain't got time for that shit. Just do your job and stay out of trouble, understood? you need to start acting like a grown ass,”

But despite his harsh words, there was a subtle warmth in his eyes as he looked at her, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between them.

Y/N did nothing but nod and huff sinking back on her chair, “fine.” he glared at her, “understood?” he repeated again causing he to stand up and walk towards the door.

“understood, old man, but if anything ever happens to me then just to let you know I did it like a grown ass. I’m a woman now, ain’t asking for help ever again,”

Price watched her leave, a mixture of frustration and affection swirling within him. He let out a gruff chuckle, shaking his head as he muttered to himself, “Stubborn little shit,”

he knew she liked him too much to stay angry at him, hell he saved her ass too many times and she saved his soul, she always came back to apologize for being stupid but this time she did come to see him before heading out with a boy she met a year ago.

a fling.

Price met him, but didn’t trust him, hell he hated the thought of the girl he raised meet a guy- well at least he watched her grow and become a woman not like his… never mind, Y/N will always remain the sarcastic fourteen year old to him.

his little shit who called him old man.

his light when he’s lost in the darkness.

Y/N knocked, peeking in, “hey… i’m heading out with Alexei to the cinema, just came to let you know,” she said with a small smile walking towards his desk.

Price looked up from his paperwork, his expression unreadable as he met her gaze, “Going out, huh?” he grunted, trying to mask the twinge of unease in his chest.

Y/N nodded, her smile faltering slightly under his scrutinizing gaze, “uh huh, just thought I'd let you know,” she replied, her tone casual.

Price's jaw tightened as he studied her, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, "Be careful," he finally muttered, his voice gruffer than usual.

Y/N's smile widened, genuine gratitude shining in her eyes, the childish twinkle he bought back after horrible shit with her abusive asshole of a family, “I will, cap. Promise.” everyone knew the; don’t promise something you can’t keep, rule.

As she turned to leave, Price couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach. “and kiddo?” he called out, his voice softer now.

She glanced back at him, a question in her eyes.

“Come back in one piece, back to me, alright?” he said, the vulnerability in his voice betraying his tough exterior.

Y/N's smile softened, a flicker of sorrow crossing her features, “always do, old man,” she replied with the brightest grin, she then stopped by the door.

“hey John… look, i’m sorry for being a bitch with you earlier when you’re just trying to look out for me, and you know that I love you right?”

Price's heart skipped a beat at her words, a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find the right response. "I know, kiddo," he managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. "And... I'm sorry too. Just... be safe out there, okay?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I will, John. I promise." never break that rule kids. 

With one last glance, she disappeared out the door, leaving Price alone with his thoughts and a gnawing sense of dread that refused to leave him.

But despite his fears, he couldn't shake the feeling of love and pride that swelled within him for the young woman who had become like family to him.

“give me a call once you’re there!” he called back loud enough for her to hear and make her chuckle.

–•–•–🤍–•–•–

first call was right before the movie, Alexei said hello, but now it has been 3 hours with no response from her.

no movie is 3 hours… especially not Romeo and Juliet.. Price searched up the timing of the movie of course, his paranoia ate him alive, but then… it went to 48 hours of no news from her.

he looked everywhere for her, yelling for the cops to search for her and his crew, driving around and hacking her phone just to find it in a car abandoned in an alleyway.

not a sound, not a sight of her, she just… vanished– no way was his Y/N running away, she was happy with him, Price can feel himself losing his sanity minute by minute, cops looked everywhere around, his crew asked, searched, he looked even in the woods under the rain.

until 71 hours later, 2 days and 23 hours later… he got a call from a random number, Price stopped his crews and put his phone on speaker, “hello? kiddo? is that you?” he started but was cut off by ragged breaths, like someone was shot in the lungs or was badly hurt.

“dad?” she started between heavy yet rapid breaths, “Y/N?” Price's heart raced as he listened to her ragged breaths. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

for the first time she called him dad and it wasn’t in a sweet way, it was filled with fear like her life depended on it.

Price's voice shook with worry as he waited for her response, his crew hanging onto every word, “I’m in trouble, Dad,” Y/N gasped, the sound of fear evident in her voice. "I don't know where I am... They took me... I'm scared."

static can be heard in the background like shuffling causing him to wince and push the phone away from his ear.

Price's mind raced, his hands trembling as he clutched the phone. “Y/N, stay calm, baby girl, We'll find you. Tell me, can you see anything around you? Any landmarks?”

Y/N's voice was strained, “I-I don't know... look, Alexei is with the Russian gang, he’s a spy, he has always been- I shouldn’t trust him, hack this phone, and his real name is Dimitri Smirnov, was in jail for 3 years because of “you” apparently, I managed to knock him out but please for the love of god…” she took a deep breath, oh so shaky, it’s like her soul was slipping away by the second, after each inhale.

As her voice trembled through the phone, each word seemed to carry the weight of her suffering.

Her breaths were ragged, shallow gasps punctuated by the sound of her struggling lungs. Pain dripped from her voice like blood from an open wound, seeping into the airwaves with every strained syllable.

well she was bleeding from the side, hell she was bleeding all over in this random ass cabin freezing to death and holding her side for dear’s life at the corner with his phone in hand as Alexei laid unconscious– or should she say Dimitri, hell she couldn’t even move to kill him, the chains did hurt like a bitch.

“I want to go home… cause i’m fucking bleeding out and I don’t know if I’m living, please Price, please… just..”

yeah she’s dying, definitely dying…

her essence fading like a flickering flame in a gust of wind, voice trailing off in the distance same way her essence did…

The static in the background mingled with her gasps, a cacophony of agony and desperation that echoed in Price's ears like a haunting melody.

he won’t forget this- ever, whoever in the heavens listening to him and watching over him seemed to like the sight of his suffering, hell he knows he won’t ever forget those ragged breaths of hers.

it will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“come take me home,” her voice cracked with anguish, the weight of her words bearing down on Price like a heavy burden. It was a slow, agonizing descent into darkness, her lifeblood draining away with each passing moment, leaving behind only the hollow echo of her pain.

with that the line cut off, Price barked orders, tracking down her phone, and as soon as Gaz found the location they were off.

a haunting location, a house in the middle of the woods, burning from the inside.

Price froze, but then in a second, he raced towards the back of the house where the fire still hadn't reached the spot, kicking the door with all his force with his men behind he could feel his heart hammering as his eyes moved around in desperate search of her.

as soon as the door opened a sharp whiff of smoke hit his face, causing his eyes to squint and become watery, he coughed a little but that didn't stop him from moving in, calling out her name.

but then Ghost called him from one of the ends of the hallways, "hey cap! You might wanna see this!" he said through his mask causing Price to walk towards the man who pointed at the chains on the ground leading from the kitchen all the way through the fire and to the attic room.

Price's heart sank as he followed the trail of chains, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened to her. The flames roared behind him, threatening to engulf the entire house, but he pushed forward, determined to find her.

fine running through fire was a stupid idea but he wasn't burned or caught by the fire surprisingly, instead, he walked down the stairs but Ghost was quick to catch up stopping him from doing anything crazy when the door to the attic room opened.

"get out of my way, lieutenant," an order.

"let me check first," was all Ghost said before the masked soldier reached the entrance to the attic room, it wasn't locked... Simon took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he might discover inside, preparing for the worst.

gun in hand, the other reaching to push the door so slowly so he could sneak in just in case the "killer" might be by the door ready with a gun or a knife or even a brick.

however, the scene before him sent pure fear through his veins, horror gripping him alive, the room was dimly lit by the flickering flames, casting eerie shadows on the walls but the air was heavy with smoke and the acrid smell of burning wood.

and Simon was never one to be easily shaken.

he even forgot to point the gun around just in case of an attack, his eyes landing on the body in the center, empty eyes staring right back at him, barely blinking.

Ghost wanted to throw up, for the first time ever after millions of missions, he wanted to throw up at the sight, not at her... but the state she was in.

On the ground, beaten so badly, covered in blood from head to toe that he couldn't even recognize her features until his eyes landed on the earrings, twinkling, but with drops of blood still.

his breath hitched the more he took her in, the once nice shirt she wore ripped at the sleeves and top, barely warming her up, a hand chained while the other was on her side, ankles on the other hand both were chained keeping her from moving.

a bloody golf bat by her head, the hair she straightened, now curled and damp, spreading around and dirty thanks to the thick pool of blood— a bloody golf bat by her fucking head- the fucker had beat her to death until she was paralyzed with a fucking bat, not only that, but she was either shot or stabbed to the side.

her breathing- oh her breathing was- ragged, her cheek pressed to the ground and eyes staring right at his slowly losing the sparkle of life, slowly, god he couldn't imagine the excruciating pain she was in if her eyes were still open.

tears racing down the side of her face, pushing some of the drops of blood away.

Ghost's heart clenched with a mixture of rage, sorrow, and helplessness, and finally, he knelt down beside her, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her cheek, feeling the warmth of her fading life, blood coating his gloved fingers as soon as he reached for her.

The weight of the situation bore down on him, and he struggled to breathe, his body shielded her face from Price who would probably drive himself to madness if he saw her.

his daughter-

"Stay with me," Ghost whispered, his voice choked with emotion, "We're here now. We'll get you the help you need. Just hold on. Price is here- John's here..."

she tried to open her mouth and whisper something but only her fingers twitched and her lips parted, words turned into nothing but rough breaths.

"Lieutenant?" oh shit- oh no what should he do, Price was calling out for him, what should he fucking do? no response. he just.. stood and took a step back.

Price frowned, eyes moving to his gloved hand, a drop of blood, thick and so red landed on the wood, but when Simon didn't respond to his call only stared at the body.

He moved to the side, but then his breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in disbelief and horror they almost popped out. His mind struggled to make sense of the unimaginable truth before him.

It was his little shit lying there, battered and broken, her fragile form barely recognizable beneath the blood and bruises. The world around him seemed to blur as he fought to comprehend the magnitude of the atrocity committed against his precious girl.

Every fiber of his being screamed out in agony, and he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest.

and he moved, running to her side, collapsing on the wood, and reaching for her, taking his sweet Y/N in his arms, he held her against his chest and he swore he could see the way her eyes lit up as soon as she was in his arms.

Price could barely recognize her features, so he reached a shaky hand to brush her hair away from her face and with his sleeve, wiped the blood away carefully without hurting her even if it was painful even holding her, she didn't wince, but just stared, relaxing in his arms, breaths still fast but they slowed down as her fear evaporated like it was never there.

and she opened her mouth, mumbling the tiniest, "Hi old man..." Price almost sobbed at that, tears threatening to spill, yes he was emotional, for fuck's sake, "Hey kiddo... you're fine, just, try to talk to me we'll get you help," he whispered holding her, supporting her head like she was a baby instead of an eighteen-year-old woman.

He reached to push the strands of curls that clung to her bloody face, revealing a glimpse of her delicate smile. It was a bittersweet sight, pain, and fatherly love together.

With a trembling voice, Y/N managed to utter a few more words, her words barely audible, but Price leaned in closer, desperate to catch every syllable.

"come on, captain, scold me, it's better than this look," she whispered between ragged breaths, her voice weakened by the ordeal she had endured, tears streamed down Price's face as he listened to her brave words.

He couldn't fathom the depth of her courage and resilience in the face of such brutality. His grip tightened around her gently, as if trying to transfer his strength to her fragile form.

"I'm not scolding you at all, kiddo, never again," he said, he promised– as if that would make her stand and heal.

it won’t. it certainly won’t.

her vision grew blurry, the body heat slowly vanishing and colder then ice, black spots surrounding her vision, she didn’t know what to say.

"you’re my home, old man…" she whispered feeling her eyes flutter on their own, she wasn’t controlling her body, Price noticed and tried to shake awake talking about how she shouldn’t leave him or whatever, she couldn’t hear a single thing as peace slowly washed over her.

with weak knees she pushed herself using her tiptoed closer so her face in buried in his arm and his scent greets her into a warm embrace.

"no no no no- kid. stay awake," she would’ve laughed, joking about how he gives her orders even when she is on the verge of death.

"you’re my kid… you’re my home," he whispered both to her and to himself, so he doesn’t lose his sanity, to convince himself, he shifted so he will hold her in his arms into the tightest hug while her body is growing limp.

her breathing were ragged and as soon as he shifted and held her head against his shoulder, holding her head, it slowed down… and then stopped.

just stopped.

Price was frozen, heart shattering into so many little pieces, "Y/N? kiddo?" he asked shaking her a bit but as he glanced to the side, her eyes emptily staring up, lifeless, twinkle no longer there, no breathing escaping her mouth or nose, lips parted, head falling back, he knew.

his Y/N was gone, his sweet baby girl, in his arms, her bloody hand holding on his sleeve like it always did loosening and falling limp on her side.

Yet another soldier, yet another daughter vanishing from his arms and his life like a dying light, like a dying star, like dust in the wind.

well that’s life… ups and downs. never make promises you can’t keep kids.

Never

***

I hope you enjoyed it guys!! edit is shit but the story ruined me! please let me know what you think🤍