#mmmm angst...

[teiasviago]

BRIDGERTON 3.08 | “Into the Light”

[sp00ky9]

Wolfwood/vashwood animatic!! Trimax implied spoilers ahead u have been warned

[locosquif]

Did I cook

[kankri-vantas-alter]

Tw :gore , blood , horror

Idk what gif i like more honestly but i love this horror game its not. Boring at least. And i love. Story telling like. The one in the game -🕳️ folykl

Honestly this looks. Okay in my opinion but i don't know really. Might hate it later

Art is not mine all credits go to respective artists

[signanothername]

Emotional numbness

I like to think that stage 1 killer is either on the verge of a break down 24/7 or completely numb due to the emotional stress and struggle with knowing what’s real and not

And well, it only puts more stress on him cause Killer really fears the thought of losing his ability to feel anything at all

[phantomskeep]

The Early Bird Gets The Worm - Chapter 2

The Early Bird Gets The Worm

Chapter 2 -  A Bird, a Babe, and a Butler All Walk Into a Cave

Written by @agent-sushi-fbi & myself uwu

Read it on AO3 here!

Masterpost | Chapter One | Chapter Three

When Danny had first ventured into the darkened alleyways of this dirty city, he didn’t expect to run into some weirdo in a skin-tight black and blue suit. Fellow dumpster divers? Yeah, sure. He figured that fighting off a family of possums was normal when scrounging around for any scrap of something to fill his stomach.

He didn’t even know where he ended up honestly. Danny got a headache anytime he thought too hard about the details of where he was or how he got there or even who he was. He knew his name was Danny. He knew he was small (he had looked in a mirror, thank you, but it felt wrong somehow, like a funhouse mirror upside down) and he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be small. But thinking about stuff like that hurt a lot–kind of like a metal fist bashing into his skull.

Danny wasn’t really sure how he knows what that feels like, yet he was sure that was the best comparison.

What he certainly wasn’t expecting at tonight's garbage dump feast was being kidnapped by a vigilante. Was it really kidnapping though if he kind of went along willingly out of pure curiosity? 

Although, man, was he glad (not that he'd ever admit it out loud) that this random vigilante decided to kidnap him tonight. After Nightwing had bundled Danny up onto his motorcycle once their meet-up with Batman was done and peeled out of the inner city of Gotham, the bird-themed hero brought him to a hidden entrance in the hills that led to a literal cave. He had watched when they pulled up as a reinforced steel panel lifted into the rocks above their head, leaving a gaping maw that Nightwing just zoomed into. Lights activated with motion sensors as they sped into a huge room that was full to the brim with gadgets and computers that lit up at their arrival. Danny could only stare in awe of how awesome and improbable it all seemed.

Seriously, how crazy were these Fruit Loops?

The man had started explaining some boring stuff about the cave when they arrived, but the massive freaking T-rex had immediately caught Danny’s eye and he stopped paying attention to Nightwing. It was like a switch was flipped, his cautious suspicion he’d been holding onto was thrown out the window, and now all that he could think about was flying himself up to the giant dinosaur and touching it. Danny was sure if you looked at his face at that moment, there was no other thought behind his eyes beyond must touch right freaking now.

Nightwing must have sensed the gremlin energy pouring off of him because next thing Danny knew, the collar of his jacket was being grabbed before he could move from his spot at the entrance. He pouted up at the man, demanding with his eyes that Nightwing let go so he could play on the dinosaur like he was a kid. But wait, maybe he should say because he’s a kid? He is a kid right, being all small? But he still wasn’t sure if that was correct. He mentally shrugged and thought: Eh, who cares? All Danny could see was shiny scales glinting in the fluorescent lights lining the cave.

And Danny? Danny was but a simple man (boy…maybe a crow?). He sees a shiny thing and must have the shiny thing.

“Danny, don't even think about it,” Nightwing intoned. He gripped Danny's jacket a little tighter and pulled him closer to the man's side. He totally did not pout at being squished into the vigilante. One hundred percent, no siree. No pouting here.

“Think about what? What are you thinking that I'm thinking?” Danny shrugged, acting casual while his eyes flitted back and forth between the vigilante and dinosaur. “There's no thoughts going on up here, I can promise you that.” He knocked on the side of his head to prove his point, but Nightwing looked unimpressed.

“Master Nightwing, I presume you brought this child back to the cave for medical attention?” Danny's nose bunched in confusion as he heard another, older and British, voice enter the chat. He turned his head around, looking for the source and spotted an older guy in a butler outfit paired with a mask, much like Nightwing’s, appear around the corner.

“Agent A! Good timing!” Nightwing jovially responded, yanking Danny around like he weighed nothing (shut up, he was a BIG MAN!) and presented him like a scrungly, dumpster-infested gift to Agent A. Danny crossed his arms and attempted to sit criss-cross while hovering in the air in response. He hoped it showed both men how displeased he was being carried around like a kitten.

Agent A only raised a single eyebrow, humming as he set down the tray he had been holding on a nearby table. Danny felt a little awkward at the look, like the man was able to be disappointed in him for nearly trying to be a brat and was waiting for Danny himself to realize it. 

“Hmm, well Master Nightwing, would you be so kind as to introduce the young Mister to me?” Agent A's attention (thankfully) shifted to Nightwing and Danny huffed a near silent breath in relief. 

Danny shifted uneasily, eyeing the new person. “How do I know you’re not some sort of government spy trying to steal my spleen?”

Nightwing let out a tired sigh, patting Danny’s greasy hair with his free hand. “This is Danny, he’s in need of some medical attention like you said. Starting with an attitude adjustment, I think.”

The young boy spluttered, smacking away Nightwing’s gloved hands. His feet dropped to the ground as he glared up at the vigilante who had finally decided to let him go. “I am perfectly fine, thank you very much! You’re the one who kidnapped me, so what kind of attitude should I have in the first place?”

“You came with me willingly!” Nightwing cried out, throwing his arms over his head in exasperation.

“You bribed me with sandwiches! I see no sandwiches here!” Danny rebutted, tilting his chin up and moving around like he was towering over Nightwing (he decided it was best to ignore his current height).

“Danny, you’ll get your sandwiches after Agent A and I check you over--”

“You’re a dirty liar and I hope you know that I will haunt you in your nightmares.” He squinted his eyes at Nightwing and Danny made a mental promise to himself to follow through with the threat…whether he knew how to do it or not. He would figure it out though if he didn't get the food he was supposed to be shoving in his mouth right about now.

Nightwing just sighed, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Okay, kiddo. Whatever you say, I'm too tired to argue.” Danny pumped a little fist in the air at his win.

A small cough caught the quarreling black-haired duo’s attention. They both shifted their gazes back to where Agent A was watching them bicker. Danny resolutely ignored how they acted in sync and shifted a few inches away.

“If it may please you, Mister Danny, while Nightwing gets you set up in the medical bay I can make you a few simple sandwiches.” The older man turned a pointed look towards the youngest present. “Are there any allergies or preferences that I should be aware of?” When Danny shook his head negatively, Agent A turned to leave for…wherever he had spawned from before.

“Thank you, A.” The vigilante called to his retreating back before starting to herd Danny over to a well-lit corner of the literal freaking cave with actual bats. He still couldn’t get over it.

Danny glared up at Nightwing, eyebrows scrunched in a face of pure childish pout. “I would like to state that I am doing this under heavy protest.”

“Duly noted.”

The medical bay was stocked full of random bits and bobs of probably important looking equipment. From IV lines to a full x-ray machine, Danny had to take a moment and question just how loaded these guys must be to have this stuff at the ready. None of this looked second-hand or even well-used to his untrained eyes, though he couldn't remember if he really had much of a reference for this stuff. As he was ushered onto a cot, Danny couldn’t help the shiver of fear involuntarily creeping up his spine as he sat down.

Watching Nightwing move around brought a thin feeling of panic racing through his veins. The sterile smell, brightly unadorned walls, and the constant hum of devices plugged into every outlet. There was a mayo cart near the end of the cot he sat on, not much on it but Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from the larger-than-they-should be tweezers and the forceps peeking out from under the sheet covering it. 

“Alright, Danno, we’re just gonna check you over real quick,” Nightwing told him, bustling around the small space comfortably. Danny felt like he couldn't breathe at the nickname for some reason he couldn’t recall. But that wasn't right? Because he was pretty sure he didn't have to breathe, which is wrong because a human should be breathing, right? He raised a shaky hand to his chest and yep, it was definitely not moving. Danny had stopped breathing at some point without realizing and it wasn’t affecting him, which was weird. But he still hadn't stopped watching the gleaming silver taunting him as though the instruments would start moving on their own towards him. So, he couldn’t bring himself to care about his own unnaturalness. “Now, I'm not the one with a history of medical care and knowledge. I know more than most. but I’ve only got enough in this old noggin for some basic first aid. Agent A will be the one actually looking you over in a bit.”

Nightwing continued to chatter on, but Danny couldn't bring himself to focus on his words until the man stepped in front of the instruments, blocking them from Danny’s line of sight. He sucked in a sharp breath for the first time in minutes, but Nightwing didn’t act like he heard him as he reached over to remove Danny's jacket. 

“Now, real quick I'm just going to do a surface check,” Nightwing rubbed Danny’s hands between his own rapidly. “Jeez kid, you're like an ice cube! We'll get you some warm clothes after we make sure you don't have any injuries. I'm gonna look for any bruises or cuts or anything broken so I can bring it to A's attention. Okay?”

Danny didn't respond. His eyes had started scanning the room and landed on a tiny centrifuge on the counter a few feet away. It looked off, it wasn't spinning at least, but the sight of it caused questions to blur in his mind. Were they going to take his blood? Why would they do that? Lots of reasons he knew, but couldn't name a single one. Why couldn’t he think of them? Would anything happen if they did take his blood? Why was he worried? Was there something that Danny should know, should remember, that he just couldn't? It was important, it had to be important! They were important, they were terrifying, they were his everything, they were his end–!

He felt his mind screech to a sudden halt, narrowing in on the blinking red light of the power button. The centrifuge just taunted him innocently as his mind panicked. Danny felt his chest going up and down, but his lungs still felt empty while his heart beat so fast he could feel it in his throat. He could hear his own heart beating. 

What if he was some kind of monster behind his memories? What if Nightwing and Batman arrested him, handed him over to someone? No, no, no! He couldn't let them! He couldn't go back, not to that place or to them--they hurt him, there was no way he'd go back! Danny refused to be sent back to the—!

Suddenly his thoughts stopped. Danny felt light-headed, all of his questions still swimming in his mind, but not as loud. He felt…calmer, but not at the same time? Who was he thinking of? What was he about to remember?

“Danny? Danny, bud, you alright there? It's not normal for you to be so quiet.” A voice spoke next to him, low and anxious but Danny's mind didn't really register it was Nightwing. He just sat there, his limbs heavy and eyelids sinking in exhaustion. He's not sure why he's suddenly so tired, but he felt his mind drift to the thought of flying through the skies with a blue shape holding onto him tightly–laughter chasing them in the wind.

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

To say Dick was panicking would be an understatement…He was absolutely losing his shit. One minute, Danny was perfectly fine (if a little bit nervous) but the next he was dissociating and hyperventilating! But without the very important part where he breathes! His little chest was moving up and down rapidly, but there didn't seem to be any air coming in or out of the boy.

“Danny? Danny, bud, you alright there?” Dick smiled, hoping it was a bit comforting. “It's not like you to be so quiet.” He spoke in hushed tones, but hoped that his goading brought the boy back to his former spunk for even a moment and snap him out of his altered mental state. When he got no response out of it though, which worried Dick even more. 

When Danny’s eyes had rolled back into his head and he passed out, just as Dick was reaching out for him? He felt his heart stop. But when Dick barely managed to catch the small boy before he fell off the cot? That was the final straw. He quickly cradled Danny in his arms and faced the main portion of the cave.

“Agent A! I need your help, come quick!” 

A hurrying of footsteps alerted him to Alfred arriving, but after calling out for assistance, Dick's eyes never left Danny’s face. There was a clatter as Alfred hastily dropped the sandwich tray he had been carrying onto the counter, the older man stopping next to Dick with a distraught expression. “What has happened here?”

“I don’t know, one second he seemed fine and then he just stopped talking!” Dick reached a hand up to gently cradle Danny’s small face, turning his head up to look at his pseudo-grandfather. “I tried asking him a question and he just passed out all of a sudden.”

With a quick nod, Alfred took Danny from his arms and laid him down on his side. Dick couldn’t help but notice just how small the boy looked laying on the adult sized cot. His breathing was short and shallow–nothing like how it was supposed to be when someone was sleeping restfully.

“Get the oximeter set up on him, lad. We’ll need to take his temperature and get a baseline.” With a determined nod, the young man set off to do just that. As he clipped the small, child-sized plastic equipment Bruce kept in the med bay for whatever reason, Dick couldn’t help but run through what had happened prior to him absconding with Danny to the top of Wayne Tower. Did he notice anything wrong with the kid besides the obvious? Did Danny act like he was protecting a wound of any kind while they spoke? He had no idea, but he sure was some detective for not noticing. Dick scoffed at his own thoughts and rushed back to Alfred.

“Was there anything that might have happened to cause any kind of head injury to the young lad?” Alfred questioned as he slipped a thermometer under the unconscious boy’s tongue. He held it there, never looking away from his patient as he questioned Dick. “Any symptoms of a fever or cough that may indicate he is sick or suffering from an underlying issue?”

Dick shook his head, impatiently waiting for the oximeter to give him something. When it continued to show nothing, he felt his heart sink. “Not anything I was there for. The kid was dumpster diving when I found him…looking for food.” He closed his eyes, trying to recall what exactly had happened earlier that night. “He kept swaying around when I got close to him though, like he was exhausted or something but trying not to show it.”

Alfred hummed, pulling the thermometer from Danny’s mouth as it beeped a cheery tune. “His temperature is not where it should be, but not out of the question with the weather and how thinly he is dressed.” The butler gave a sharp nod, depositing the used thermometer off to the side and moving towards the blood draw station. “We’ll need to perform a blood panel on Mister Danny, it’s a very high possibility that his blood sugar is low, as well.”

Dick felt his shoulders deflate, glancing helplessly between the kid he knew he was getting attached way too fast to and his grandfather. “And what if his blood sugar isn't the problem we're having here? What if something else is going on?”

Alfred's eyes softened a little around the edges, his steps a little less hurried, though still confident nonetheless. “Then that is simply one diagnosis we will be able to remove from the realm of possibility. Now, please help me get Mister Danny cleaned up a bit. I daresay, we cannot have the child catching an infection from the street grime finding its way into an injection site.”

“Got it–okay.” Dick pushed his shaking hands to still as he hurried over to one of the cabinets alongside the walls. He opened the drawer housing the many rags they use in these types of situations, a box of alcohol wipes, and a small bucket he filled with water at the sink to take over to Danny’s bedside. Setting them all on the nearby mayo cart, he started gently scrubbing away the thick layer of filth coating the young boy’s arm until the skin turned near pink. Doing his best to not think about just what was happening, the vigilante cleaned up the young boy with Bat-trained efficiency.

“He’s ready,” Dick announced as he swiped an alcohol wipe repeatedly over the now-cleaned flesh. Alfred hummed as the older man wrapped a latex band around Danny’s upper arm, watching as the young boy’s veins slowly thickened with blood swelling. With a gentle precision, Alfred prodded around before reaching a hand out to press lightly above the tourniquet. Instinctively, Dick passed over a needle and syringe to him, keeping the empty tiger tubes in his palm until Alfred asked for them.

Just as the cool metal of the needle began to poke into Danny’s veins, the boy’s fist snapped out, almost knocking the empty tubes out of Dick’s hands. They were shocked enough by the response–both men startled more than they expected–that Dick found himself taking a half step back and Alfred was pulling the needle away from Danny's arm to ensure he didn't poke the boy in the wrong spot by accident. 

“Danny?” Dick called out, his surprise hurriedly making way for relief. “Oh my, Danny! You scared me–” Snarling greeted his approach and instantly stopped Dick in his tracks. His arms were held up in an aborted hug as he watched Danny inch upwards and lean forward so his weight was supported by his wrists. It couldn't have been comfortable, but Dick wasn't sure if Danny even realized as his eyes remained tightly shut–lines appearing around them that made him seem so much older than his young age was.

Danny’s noises intensified when Alfred began to move again, the needle still held tightly within his right hand. Although they didn't open during all of this, Danny's eyes were trained on the gleaming silver as though it personally offended him. Dick’s gaze flitted between the two others for a moment before he had an idea.

Lowering himself a little so he wasn't too tall in this moment, settling into a crouched position that put him eye level with Danny, Dick took a deep breath. “Alfie, I need you to take a step back for me.”

The old butler raised a brow and did not move, keeping his eyes on Danny with continuous aborted attempts to reach the child. “Master Dick, I do not know what you are planning–”

“Sorry Alf, I just need you to trust me,” he held a hand out, interrupting the butler and accepting his consequences for later. “I've got an idea, but I need you to step back a little first.”

Alfred tsked in disapproval, but did as Dick asked and the young man watched as a little bit of tension left Danny's face. “Okay okay, now I need you to slowly lower the hand that’s holding the needle.”

“Now, really Master Dick.” Alfred didn't complain, but he made his displeasure known. “This young man is now my patient, so I must treat him. Would you please allow me?”

Dick resisted the urge to sigh. He felt like right now was not the best time to be arguing, it could only lead to Danny running from them, from him. Dick didn't know how he knew that probability, but he felt it in his very bones. Every second they wasted, he knew that it would lead to Danny running as fast as his small legs would take him.

“Alfred, please, I'm asking you to trust me right now,” he begged. Waving a hand at Danny’s current state as though to prove his point. “There's something happening, and I think that we need to follow Danny's lead here. If I know grunts and growls from B, then this is an angry or scared one. We have to step back, ok?”

Alfred glanced away from Danny long enough to stare into Dick's eyes and sigh under his breath (Dick didn't actually hear the noise, but he knew it happened). But without argument, he moved his arm down slowly, never letting go of the needle–but rather just removing it from Danny's direct line of sight. The snarls didn't completely disappear, but they lowered enough in volume that he could almost say the kid sounded like an old fridge humming to life for the first time in years.

Turning to the (obviously freaked out) child in front of him, Dick put on his best showman's smile for him. “Danno, it's okay, no one will hurt you.” There was no response, not that Dick thought there would be. “No one will ever touch you again without your okay on it, is that alright?” 

A blank stare was the only reply Dick received, making his worry increase. He did his best to not show it, his smile steady and sure as he kept gently talking to the scared boy in front of him. “What’s got you all worked up? Must not like needles, huh, bud?” With the utmost caution, Dick slowly reached out a hand. When Danny’s snarling continued as before without raising in volume, the vigilante kept creeping closer and closer. “Needles are pretty scary. I used to hate getting shots, y’know? Batman would have to bribe me with ice cream to get me to do it.” Dick dropped his voice to a stage whisper as he gently touched Danny’s shaking arm. “He still has to bribe me, even if I’m not scared anymore. It gets me free ice cream, how could I say no to that?”

Alfred chuckled despite himself at Dick's words, no doubt remembering all the times he had to quell Dick's tantrums when he had to get all of his vaccinations after moving in. “It is true, Mister Danny. Master Nightwing was quite the rambunctious child and the main aggressor in Batman's multitude of gray hairs coming in early.”

Dick frowned at Alfred. He wasn't that bad growing up! But before he could protest his angelic childhood nature, he heard a quiet snort. Whipping his head back around from where he was about to defend himself to Alfred, Dick watched as the lines on Danny's face receded a bit and there was a tiny quirk to his lips.

Deciding sometimes it's better to join them than try and beat them, Dick moved forward. “Oh yeah, for sure, I was a total monster! There was this one time where Batman told me I couldn't go on patrol with him after I kept playing with Poison Ivy's plants,” Dick started in a hushed whisper, as though he were telling a secret. Danny leaned forward, his eyes still closed but not as tightly and he thought he could almost make out a sliver of color from them. “Well, I couldn't stand for that, of course! I was all of eight-years-old and totally knew better than Batman himself, so I went out anyway but in the opposite direction of his patrol. I figured if he didn't see me, he wouldn't know.” Dick shrugged casually, leaning back a bit with a faux-cocky smirk.

“How, pray tell, did that end up working out for you, Master Nightwing?” Alfred was smirking. That was never a good sign for any of them. 

Dick looked away from the old butler, keeping Danny in his peripheral as he muttered. “I slipped on some ice that Mr Freeze had left on the ground and slid into the middle of traffic. Batman got a call from Gordon about ‘an extra traffic light the city didn't authorize’ and told him to come get me.” Dick pouted remembering how Bab's’ Dad kept chuckling at him the whole time Bruce gave him a silent lecture on the police station roof. “I was grounded from everything, not just patrol, for a month. A whole month!”

A small huff of laughter caught Dick’s attention, and he could see Danny’s shoulders lower from their tense position. Dick gave a quick glance over him, checking for anything wrong, and just seeing that the little boy was much more relaxed. Within seconds his little head was lolling around like it weighed more than he could handle. Dick jumped up and grabbed hold of Danny's shoulders before he could slump over and fall off the cot. With the same amount of caution one would use to approach a rabid dog, Dick slowly laid the once again unconscious child back down. He stayed still for a few tense moments, waiting for Danny to react negatively at the change in position. When there was no aggressive movement, he breathed a sigh of relief. Turning his head to face Alfred, he spoke in a hushed tone. “Maybe we don’t draw the kid’s blood just yet.”

“Master Nightwing, we need to find out what’s wrong with the young lad.” The old butler set the needle down on a nearby table, locking covered eyes with Dick’s own. “It could be something that needs immediate treatment.”

“Is there any way we could get that information without drawing a panicked child’s blood?” Dick hissed.

Eyes narrowing in displeasure, Alfred spoke with a sharp tone. “Master Nightwing, it would do you well to remember the manners Batman and I taught you.”

Dick sheepishly looked at the ground, mumbling out an apology. “But, A, c’mon. He clearly doesn’t like needles for some reason. Why don’t we just wake him up, or do some tests that don’t involve drawing his blood?”

Alfred twisted his lips in a way only the man himself could, eyes trained on Dick who was anxiously rubbing his hands together, waiting for an answer. When Bruce wasn't here, Alfred was in charge. (Aw, who was he kidding? Alfred was always in charge, but when Bruce isn't here the arguments are a lot easier). 

“As you wish, I will view Mister Danny's current status without the transfer of biological tissue of any kind,” Alfred agreed easily, moving past Dick to properly dispose of the needle he had opened. “But I tell you this now sir, if there is an underlying health issue then I won't be able to do anything if his condition worsens in this situation. So I suggest coming up with an idea for when the young sir awakens.”

Dick nodded while feeling like groaning in misery. He barely knew the kid–how was he supposed to act as a health surrogate for this tiny child right now? The vigilante put his hands on his hips as he watched Alfred work, removing Danny's dirty outer clothing. Alfred’s facade broke for a second as he made a face at the two filthy, thin jackets covering the boy’s still covered arm and the ripped flannel around his waist. The old butler methodically cleaned every part of Danny's arms and face that were covered in dirt, and Dick watched in awe as the most adorable freckles appeared on his round baby cheeks. He needed to squish them and coo at the little boy right that second, having to use every ounce of Bat-trained restraint to not coddle the tiny human.

“Nightwing,” Dick took in a sharp breath, instinctually standing up straight. He hadn’t been expecting Bruce to be back to the Cave so soon, normally the man would stay out as late as possible on patrol. “Report, now.” Bruce's voice garnered no argument, a tone demanding answers. Dick knew that he probably had some kind of traumatic response reasoning or whatever for needing to know literally everything for a sense of control. But Dick had a traumatic response to fight at every turn when being spoken down to.

“Not now B, if you can’t tell there’s something going right now we’re a bit busy with,” Dick grit his teeth as he responded, unable to tear his eyes away from the laceration on the back of Danny’s left arm that Alfred had just uncovered. What could have made that? A kitchen knife perhaps? Dick wanted to get a closer look, but he knew he’d just be in Alfred’s way right now. “So if you could kindly fuck off until later, that would be great.”

“Language, young sir,” Alfred admonished him absently. 

Dick felt his cheeks heat up, but didn’t move from his position in the doorway where he was watching everything that happened. He didn’t want Bruce coming close to Danny. “Sorry A, my bad.”

“Nightwing,” Bruce–no, Batman–intoned. Dick wanted to ignore the man. God, did he want to just flat out pretend he wasn’t there and focus on this tiny bundle of cuteness that filled him with a strong urge to protect said bundle from any and all harm. 

But Batman was someone that couldn’t be easily ignored.

“What part of ‘not now’ do you not understand?” The younger vigilante quipped, trying to play the part of happy-go-lucky-Dick-Grayson everyone always seemed to expect from him. It was exhausting most of the time these days, but somehow easier to just fall into his assigned role than live with the anger brewing in his chest bit by bit.

“I don't have time for your remarks, Nightwing,” Batman scolded. At this point in his life, Dick can tell Bruce's frowns apart as well as he could the grunts. This was an ‘you are lucky you're my kid, otherwise I'd sock you in the jaw’ kind of frown. He didn't earn those too often, surprisingly. “You let an underaged civilian into the Cave without consulting me first. Explain your actions, now.”

Dick’s lips curled, snarling at Batman. “What I did was bring a scared, hurt little boy to a place that I knew would give him half-decent medical attention. It’s better than dropping him off at, I don’t know, Ma Gunn’s?” With an ugly type of satisfaction, he watched as the blow hit its mark. He could read Batman’s body language well enough by now to see the half-hidden wince, the slightest uptick of his shoulders. Hopefully it was enough to make Batman be Bruce for half a minute so they could have an actual conversation, rather than a screaming match.

“You're out of line, Nightwing,” Batman frowned, the creases in his mask deepening as he stalked towards Dick. A dark feeling wormed its way through Dick's chest. It was an awful thing that made him feel like a shit son for being cruel to the man who raised him, but also felt glad he could inflict just a little suffering back at Bruce for his emotionally constipated actions over the years. Dick felt sick at the words that just came out of him. “I suggest you stop now, and let me move past you.”

Dick jutted out his chin, shifting on his feet to broaden his stance and better block off the entry to the medical bay. “Absolutely not.”

The two stared each other down for a moment. Dick didn't move from his post, crossing his arms defiantly as Bruce tried to stand up to his annoyingly taller height in an act of intimidation. Too bad for him, it stopped working after the last time he betrayed Dick's trust, right before he abandoned the mantle of Robin that he had built.

“Nightwing, that was not a request but an order. Move now.” Bruce made to shoulder his way around Dick, but the younger’s lithe form moved to block him.

“I don’t care. I’m not letting you take a kid–who just fainted–out of this cave! He needs medical attention and Alfred’s the best of the best.” Dick argued defiantly. Maybe a little childishly too, if he had to admit it. Dick knew that Danny would do well to be treated properly in a hospital, but after what he witnessed in that room with hardly the basics in medical care? He wasn't letting that kid anywhere near a hospital without his consent right now.

“Alfred, while skilled, is not comparable to a trained doctor who can treat this child and get them the help he needs.” Bruce put his hand on Dick's shoulder and he roughly shoved it off, feeling the skin burn despite layers of kevlar and spandex separating them. “You are acting irrationally right now–”

“I don’t care, Bruce!” Dick shouted, shaking with a barely-contained rage. He felt his chest burning with it, unable to hold the words in and since there were no younger siblings or small children around (and awake), so he didn't stop them. “I don’t care that Alfred’s not a trained doctor. I don’t care that you’re so against this! What I care about is the fact that this little kid trusted me enough to bring him here, to get him help, when he very clearly does not trust anybody!” Dick moved, getting up in Bruce’s face as he went on his tangent. He was so fired up, he couldn't even notice Bruce's dominos widening in shock. “You should know better than anyone what it’s like to have a kid dropped right in front of you and know that you need to help! Hell, how many orphans have come through here, again?”

Dick huffed loudly, his breaths causing a slight mist in the damp cave as he watched Bruce process his words for a moment. The man barely moved the whole time Dick was ranting and he was honestly shocked he got out what he did without Bruce shutting him up. Or Alfred complaining about how they were disturbing his patient. 

“Exactly, Dick,” Bruce agreed. But his voice was low and dangerous, the tone he saved for when he was incredibly angry. Dick only ever heard it when the man was facing Joker or The Riddler after their antics affected large groups of people and led to deaths. “I have seen multiple orphans walk through this manor and through this cave. I have watched as you were consumed by rage and tried to avenge your family with your small hands, still growing as you filled these halls with so much sorrow it couldn't fit in a tiny body.” Bruce's fists clenched at his sides. “I watched as you followed in my footsteps, becoming Robin and channeling your anger before just leaving everything behind. I couldn't stop you.”

Bruce jutted his chin out, the vein in his neck popping as he remembered Dick's younger years. “I watched as…as Jason, so filled with hatred and rage entered the manor. He hid his food and tried to protect himself even when no one was coming after him, and then he took over Robin. He was the happiest I had seen him in those days,” Bruce's voice quieted some, but the steel in his tone grew sharper. “Then I watched as he died. He died because he was Robin, because I took him in.”

Bruce pointed at Dick suddenly, and the accusatory finger felt so strong he took a step back in surprise. “Tim was not one I expected, and I tried to push him away for his own good. He'd have been better off not being Robin for his own sake. Even a life lived like his could have become better than the one he has now, risking his life on the streets when he could be at home developing film or skateboarding with friends. A normal life, without the mission,” Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Dick, I know what it's like to see an orphan child and want to help them, of course I do. But sometimes, even with good intentions, there are people who want to help but in hindsight probably shouldn't. They could end up making the child's life even worse, completely without trying.”

The guilt that Dick had been feeling washed out in a seething tsunami of fury. All throughout Bruce’s speech, the acrobat felt regretful over what he said to Bruce. Maybe the man actually understood how fucked up his relationships with his kids were? He was mentally debating how to apologize to him for what was said and move forward, maybe turn this into an actual conversation for once. Yet, Bruce's words at the end gave him pause. He made some points Dick could find himself agreeing to in other circumstances, but to say that he shouldn’t be around Danny? Because he would make the kid’s life worse? That's just catastrophizing and projecting his own guilt onto Dick!

“I want you to think about how old you were when you took me in, Bruce.” Dick said, slowly and clearly as he stalked closer to his father-figure. “You were only twenty-two. Fresh out of traveling the world, leaving behind all your responsibilities to start out on your own quest to avenge your parents. To lead a one-man crusade against all the bad things this screwed up city has to offer.” The younger man glared up at Bruce, hoping that he was communicating just how royally pissed off he was. “I’m two years older than you were. I have a full-time job as well as having a normal life outside of the suit. I have decent relationships with my co-workers and I have not only successfully led teams, but I have been fighting towards The Mission for most of my life. I have friends inside and out of being a vigilante who would be more than happy to help me if I asked them to. And, unlike someone I know, I would actually ask.”

Dick shook his head bitterly. He felt the insane urge to laugh right now, but none of this was funny. He knew that.

“I know I can take Danny under my wing and raise him well. I have a great example of what not to do, after all. But, what happened to the one kid you ever bothered to actually adopt, Bruce? Where is he now? Would you say that being under your care made his life even worse?” They both knew he was talking about himself, but Dick wanted Bruce to say the words he was always afraid to admit out loud about their relationship.

Dick felt a sick sort of satisfaction still though at seeing Bruce's shoulders shake minutely. There was not a lot that could rattle the man, but bringing up the mistakes he made raising his kids would always do it--you just had to know what signs to look for. If Jason had been here for this, or even Tim, they probably would have tried to stop their fight before it got to this point. His brothers never enjoyed being around him and Bruce at times like these, but it still made him feel awful in a way to speak to Bruce like this. But he was so upset at the situation he couldn't bring himself to care.

He barely managed to dodge the swing Bruce tossed his way, ducking down to his haunches as the man pushed his weight forwards. Sliding around his legs, Dick hooked himself around Bruce's ankle to bring the bigger vigilante down, but Bruce only stumbled a bit. Dick tumbled a few feet away and popped back up, lowering himself into a half-crouched stance in case Bruce came towards him again. But he didn't, Bruce just stood in the entry of the doorway, huffing like an angry bull as he whipped his cowl off and turned burning blue eyes onto Dick.

He peeked around the man's wide shoulders at Alfred, who stood in the background like a sentinel over Danny's quiet form resting on the bed. Somehow the kid was still asleep through all of the noise. If he weren't facing Bruce, Dick would laugh at the sight of the kid’s slack jaw and an ever growing puddle of drool under his chin.

“You have no right to talk about situations you don't understand, Dick,” Bruce ground out, his voice gravelly with the emotions he never let out. “The choices I made were–”

“Really shitty?” Dick quipped as he rose from his crouch. “Because, yes. They were, I agree.”

“They were the best choices I could make at the time,” Bruce corrected, lines deepening on his face and aging the man even more. “I was young and I had a child dropped into my lap–”

“More like yoinked from the cops, but go on.” Dick shrugged at the man, body language loose but his nerves were shot now that he was further from Danny. “Keep digging that hole B, maybe soon it'll be big enough to fit you.”

“Nightwing, stop this now–” Bruce started to lecture. But the step backwards he made caused Dick to snap. He was too close to Danny and Dick was too far. He had to protect!

“No! This isn't Batman and Nightwing time B,” Dick began marching forward, fists trembling in front of him with each step. “This is Dick and Bruce, man and ward time. You and I are talking, it is not you giving me orders!”

Stopping in front of his father-figure, Dick looked him dead in the eyes. Blue met blue. Frown met frown. He stood up to Batman who was keeping him from the child his heart had already claimed.

“So how about we talk, old man?”

[kihteyu]

If Hunter was pulled out of the ground as a toddler and Golden Guard by the time he was 16, then imagine how young he was when he was first forced into scout training. What age did Hunter’s childhood end? How old was he when he scaled that mountain? Were any of the other scouts hesitant to spar with him when he was half their height? I imagine child soldiers aren’t really as stigmatized on the Boiling Isles but did that still apply when it was a ten year old in a mask that kept slipping off his head because it was still a little too big? A cape he kept tripping over because it was still a little too long? Did anyone see that little, magicless boy trying to fight alongside adults and think anything was wrong with it but was forced to keep their mouth shut because it was the Emperor’s will? Did anyone care? Did anyone think to ask their god why he needed children to fight his battles?

[aleiiii]

Hello again back with another angsty thought roaming about. Don't know if it's been brought up yet but if Na is mortal or not but if she is a mortal , how does Wukong (and Mac) cope with the thoughts of him outliving her ( like he did with all of his old friends)?

Or does he try to figure a way to extend her life?

FROSTED 🫵🏼

These angst asks are so yummy, thank you 🤭

Holy moly,,,,, yknow I can see Wukong being in huge denial, especially after going through losing his previous companions, probably encountering other mortals come and go. He’s really reminded about Nà’s mortality after the Lady Bone Demon encounter, she’s tired and worn out from the venture. Probably a little injured (from Wukong no less uh oh). He fights the internal battle of either going behind her back and giving her an elixir or a peach from the gardens, or just straight up asking her,,,, BUT that runs the risk of her rejecting Wukong’s wish to make her immortal, and that’s really not an option in Wukong’s eyes.

Macaque tries to be a point of reason. Maybe she does want to live a normal human lifespan, and that would be her choice…. But he’s also grown extremely attached to her. He wouldn’t want to lose something so dear to him again. As much as he tries to allow Nà to have her own will, Wukong can be a bit of a barrier.

[elrianuiverna]

I’m alive and the context of this is I Can’t Help but Wonder from the Ithaca Saga. My insta also has a little synopsis about this and a tad on them in my rewrite ✨ my back hurts

[midnight-mourning]

Not Even a Mouse

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 21❄️❄️

alright, y'all have had it too good for too long, have some angst (with a bit of fluff, of course) to balance it all out, hope you enjoy!

Prompt: If you don't fill all the spots,,, I'm gonna make a second request! Idk if you're doing any angst for this one, but if you are,,, something about Sun being alone for Christmas. Maybe he finds out the employees and Glams are having a party without him. Idk i just wanna make him sad. xD Don't feel obligated to do this one! This is just an extra if you want :P

Word Count: 1700

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The Daycare has a cold atmosphere to it, being so empty as it is. The music plays as always, tune just as cheery as ever, without a single listener. Save for one. 

Every toy is in its place, all the crafts supplies are put away. There's not a thing that isn't perfectly organized within the entire space. It's already been cleaned, one, twice, and now thrice, so there's not even a singular speck of dust. 

It's spotless. And desolate. 

The children are gone, it is the holidays after all. They wouldn't be back for another day or so. In the meantime, the attendant can only twiddle his thumbs and try not to go stir crazy in the meantime. 

There's others in the Plex of course, the other bots and some employees. But they, well. They aren't exactly friendly, when it came to either side of the Daycare Attendant. 

They were never exactly sure as to why. 

Both had tried to reach out, interact, engage, on multiple occasions. Each attempt being met with either unease, wobbly kindness, or downright hostility in some cases. It got to the point where both simply just, gave up. 

It was better to not try, they realized, it made things easier to keep to themselves and not bother anyone else. At least, Moon had learned this. It was arguably easier for him, given his status as naptime attendant. Isolation wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. 

But it was for Sun. 

While Moon was fine with the quiet, Sun was borderline inconsolable. 

And that was before he had found out about the holiday party. 

It had been a complete accident. Just so happening to be walking by on his way to gather clean stuffed animals from the laundry room. Two random employees chatting without a care in the world.

"Yeah, there's even a white elephant, come on, you gotta come!"

"I wasn't gonna miss it. Are the Glamrocks participating? I feel like it'd be funny to see what they come up with as gifts."

"I think so, yeah. It's gonna be..." They notice the Daycare Attendant, voice lowering. "—Great."

The other employee gives a confused look, then turns slightly to see the bot, eyes wide.

Not wanting to make things worse Sun simply nods in greeting, and goes on his way. 

Now, sitting alone in their room, scattered papers and old crayons surrounding him, he wishes he had said something. Wishes he had spoken up, argued, criticized, cried. Anything. 

Instead, he didn't. He just stood there and took it. 

The playtime attendant can picture it, dozens of employees and the other bots crowded together somewhere, probably the dance floor. Laughing, chatting, just enjoying the company of friends and coworkers. There's probably decorations everyone, to the nines even, based on how many boxes Moon saw people carrying around earlier that week. 

Holiday music and snacks, and of course, the gift exchange. Competing for the best gift, and having a wonderful time doing it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they were so hated. That he was so disliked. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment? This kind of hurt?

The Glamrocks were good enough, so why wasn't he—

There's a muted snap, causing the bot to jump and glance down to his hand. 

Another broken crayon to add to the collection. 

With a scoff he tosses it away, towards the wall not too far in front of him. It wasn't a hard throw, but apparently it was enough. 

The sound of fluttering paper can be heard as a single page falls to the ground. It piques Sun's interest, and he shifts to take a closer look. 

It's a drawing of him, one done in pencil, maybe charcoal—he'd never thought to ask—as opposed to the usual paint and crayons the kids utilized. 

Though that would be because a child didn't make it for him. You did. 

At least, he's 99% sure. You'd scurried off before he could ask. 

You worked in the gift shop, passing by the Daycare every day for work. And every day, either one of the attendants would catch you staring as you walked by the large windows. Ducking your head and rushing off whenever you got caught. 

You'd only spoken to them a handful of times, when you happened to come in to speak to the security guard about something. Sun was never quite sure why you needed the guard so much, but he didn't think to question it either. 

Your voice was always very soft, mumbling. If he didn't have such well-adjusted noise sensors he'd probably not be able to hear you. He didn't know why you were so quiet, you had a lovely voice. 

He wished you say more, on your visits. Your words always stuttered and brief. But he cherished those moments. Every little interaction was saved in several locations in his hard drive just to make sure he didn't lose them. You were probably the only person who would bother talking to him or Moon. That was precious. 

He picks up the drawing, admiring the detail you'd put into it. For something of this quality, he didn't know why you were working in the gift shop. Maybe you were doing something else, like college, and this was a temporary situation for you in the long run. 

He remembers when you gave it to him, he'd at least gotten a direct interaction, you'd slipped Moon's under the door one night before going home. 

He believes it's because of your encounter that you just ran away the second time, and he can't say he blames you. 

You'd been nice enough to knock, having been the very end of the day, the last child having been picked up just a few minutes prior. 

When he opens the door, you're looking to the ground, clutching the paper in your hands tightly. 

Surprised, but happy to see you, he speaks first. "Hello there, friend! It's good to see you!" 

"U-um, hi...." You say, still looking down. "Good, good to see you too."

You're nervous for some reason, though you're always nervous he realizes. 

He wants to fix it. He tries with a joke. "Well, you can't see me very well from there can you?"

It doesn't land. You flinch, but look up. "S-Sorry."

Stupid. Stupid. Fix it.

"Oh! Not a worry at all, Sunbeam. I just wanted to see you're smiling face." His rays spin. 

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

"Of course! A lovely smile on a face like yours just makes my day!" Surely that'll do it, let you know he's being sincere.

Your internal temperature rises, fluctuating around your cheeks and ears. Now he's gone and made you mad. Great, this is going so great, he's blowing it—

You shove the paper into his hands. "This is for you. I-I, I have to go now. Buh-bye!"

Before he can say another word you're gone, running back towards the main entrance, leaving him with an amazing drawing, and not so amazing thoughts. 

You hadn't come back into the daycare since then, which could only mean that you hated him now too. Sun rubs his thumb over your signature on the page, at least he still had this. 

The sound of laughter growing closer interrupts his thoughts. And, curiosity getting the better of him, he goes to take a look. 

Peeking out the curtains, he can see a group of employees walking by. You're among them, smiling and chatting all the while. 

Just outside the Daycare you stop, waving to the group. 

"I think I forgot my jacket in the gift shop, I'll see you guys later! Happy holidays!" 

They bid you farewell, and Sun's planning to shut the curtain again, not wanting to be weird and watch you go about your business, when he picks up on your odd behavior. 

You watch your friends leave and then glance around a few times. Then, you pull out two small, wrapped gifts and walk over to the Daycare doors. After a moment he hears a knock. 

His rays spin, and he acts before he thinks. He dives into the ball pit and as soon as he makes contact is immediately scrambling out of it and heading for the door. He takes a moment to collect himself, then opens it. 

To his shock, you speak first. "Hi Sunny! It's good to see you. I, I wasn't sure you'd be around. I um, having something for you! And, and Moon." You hold up the gifts. 

Sun short circuits. 

You got him a gift. 

You.

The person he thought hated him like all the rest. 

You thought of him, were actively thinking of him. 

And you called him Sunny.

"If, if that's okay. Sorry if I'm bothering you. I just, I really wanted to get these to you tonight. I, I thought you were going to be at the party, I was um, kinda sad you weren't. But I totally get it if parties aren't your thing! They're... not really mine either but um, god I'm rambling here I'm sorry." You look up to him then, concern in your gaze. "Are, are you okay?"

It occurs to the playtime attendant that his fans are roaring now. He has to get you to stop before he overheats. Time to play his role. 

"Ah! I'm alright friend! I'm happy to see you too! And I appreciate the thought, truly." He takes your hand, and without thinking, raises it to his smile for a kiss. "It means a lot. Would, would you like to come inside for a moment?"

Now you're frozen, temperature climbing in a matter of seconds. 

"I would really like that."

His rays spin out of his control. "Great. Great! Please,"—he stands straight, waving his other hand behind him—"Come on in."

You keep your hand in his, squeezing gently. "O-okay."

As the door closes behind the two of you, Sun decides that he doesn't really care if missed the holiday party or not. He doesn't really care if everyone hates him and Moon either. 

If he can have just this moment to share with you, and maybe more. Maybe even becoming friends?

That's enough.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you @zenkaiankoku for the request! Enjoyed having a bit of angst to write hehe, still made it a little fluffy in spots but I think it still works ^-^

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@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a

[lostinthewalls]

Coming at ya with a sad little angsty prompt. Late night thoughts, really.

Tinies absolutely petrified of fireworks. Say it's new years or the fourth of July or some other holiday including fireworks. So obviously, the giants are setting them off outside.

The poor tiny is huddled under a blanket, curling in on themselves, desperately trying to escape the barrage of sudden noise. Whimpering and crying as the explosive blasts reach their ears, yet they have no idea where it's coming from.

Now, either they are alone or undiscovered, and have to stay awake until God knows when, and when the blasts finally stop, their ears are ringing uncontrollably and they're still a sniveling mess but! can never be too loud or else the giant will find you.

Or, take the fluff route. Their giant companion/lover has stayed inside for the night, and, when looking for the tiny, find them gathered up in a pile of blankets, clutching their ears. The giant picks them up in their gentle hands, blankets and all, and carries them to a different, quieter room.

They hug the tiny to their chest, whispering soft nothings as the tiny clutches their shirt, dry-heaving and gasping for air as overwhelmed sobs escape their throat. Eventually, they settle down, and fall asleep in their companions hands. Not the best nap in the world, but the noise is muffled when held against the giants chest, so it's something.

And the giant is stuck there. But is happy about it! Atleast the tiny isn't stark terrified anymore.

Oh my God I went off the RAILS for that one but just...petrified tinies afraid of fireworks or loud noises....please........

[batsyvie]

she reminds him of his rose

[tapakah0]

[suugarbabe]

when Enzo smiles that sweet smile of his

warnings: major angst, like the most angst, cannot stress the angst

an: many many thanks to my hubs @musingsofahufflepuff for helping with concept creation, discussion, editing. i adore you

He’d been pursuing you for a few weeks now, in that way that only he can do. The first time Lorenzo Berkshire had asked you to hang out, you knew it was a double entendre for something more than just getting a butterbeer. And while you weren’t sure if it was your overall nerves that someone who looked as sweet and angelic as him was asking to hangout with you, or if you simply didn’t want to be another name added to his roster; you declined his offer. 

It was after that moment that you started to notice his presence a little more often. Not that it was hard to; his height definitely deterred him from being discrete in any manner whatsoever. Yet every time he asked to see you, you gave a variation of the same response: no. At this point it was a little bit of a game for you, maybe subconsciously assuming he would just give up since you weren’t as easy as his usual sexual conquests. 

But the rumor was that he hadn’t been seen with anyone else since he started pursuing you. That he only wanted you. So when he offered to carry your bag after your last lesson to dinner. You let him. And when he insisted on walking you from dinner to your dorm. You allowed it. Then, when he stood outside your dorm entrance and confessed that you were driving him crazy, that he was so attracted to you and he hadn’t felt like that for anyone, not truly, in a while, and would you please, just please, be his date for the Slytherin party that weekend. You said yes. 

And so you gathered with your friends to get ready, making sure to wear something that made you feel as attractive as you thought Enzo would agree with. When you stepped through the Slytherin entrance that night your stomach rose to your throat like you were on one of those muggle roller coaster rides. Even through the haze of smoke and party lighting you could tell the Slytherin common room screamed luxury. Black leather couches, emerald velvet drapery, gold accented everything. 

Your friends went to get drinks and you were highly debating an Irish goodbye. Your nerves were getting the best of you. How could sweet, lovely, angel Enzo want to meet you? Not only his looks, but his charm made him the talk of the school and you were sure that no one really even knew your name. It was very highly known that he had the ability to make any girl melt, his sweet demeanor even getting him and his friends out of a detention or two in the past. 

But before your thoughts could turn into action, Enzo found you. Wrapping an arm across your chest from behind, his lips ghosting against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “There you are, sweetness. Thought maybe you stood me up.” You assured him you hadn’t even had the thought. He asked you to meet his friends, saying yours would catch up with you guys soon. We’re always in the same place at these parties, they’re bound to find us sooner or later. Just come with me, I won’t hurt you, darling. I promise.

So you did. And you met his friends. Formally met his friends, at least two of them. You were well aware of who they were; and it made meeting them in this capacity all the more terrifying. Enzo says your name to his friends like they should already know it. Theo Nott’s eyes were like moonstone, clear and sharp as they stared down at you. His stare had this way of making you feel beneath him. He gave you the most subtle of nods when you were introduced, barely perceptible had you not been focusing so intently on each person you were presented in front of. 

Mattheo Riddle was someone you would have had to have been dead to not know. If there was a fight in a corridor, it was likely him. The scars across his eyebrow and cheekbone he wore like badges of honor. The one across his nose was still healing from a few weeks ago. When he smiled at you it felt like a predator looking at prey, your instincts telling you to run away. Both were very opposite from the golden retriever energy that Enzo seemed to exude and it had you wondering how he was such good friends with him. 

But Enzo’s hand on the small of your back kept you grounded. When he felt you tense from nervousness, he placed his hand on the back of your neck, thumb running a soothing path behind your ear. He could feel your pulse calm back down before stating he’d go and get you both a drink. He placed a kiss on the crown of your head before leaving you alone with serpents. 

“Come’ere,” Mattheo beckoned you over, patting the seat on the sofa next to him. And you went, sitting with space between the two of you that quickly disappeared as Mattheo scooted over and threw his arm over the back of the couch. “So…how’s your little spin with Berkshire going for ya?” the smirk was subtle on his lips. You plastered on a smile of your own, “Well this is the first time we’re really hanging out. But he’s really sweet.” 

Enzo’s friends found your responses quite funny, Theo breaking his stoic mold to huff a laugh and a smile. Mattheo narrowed his eyes with his grin, “Babe…you know Berk is really the worst out of all of us.” This time it was you laughing, nodding in mock agreement as you responded, “Oh yeah. I’m sure he’s just terrible.” You shook your head, “You’re funny, Mattheo.” 

Mattheo glanced over at Theo who raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. Turning towards you fully, Mattheo took your hand in his, “I want you to look me in the eyes when I say this to you…Enzo can and will ruin your life if it suits him.” You bit your lip to contain your smile as you nodded, “Uh-huh, yeah. Thanks for the warning, Riddle.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, tossing your hand back in your lap as Enzo returned. He asked if everything was okay. Mattheo tossed two fingers in the air while you ensured him that his friends were playing nice while he was gone. 

Despite your earlier nerves, the rest of the party went on perfectly. Drinks flowed, your friends did eventually find you. You and Enzo even danced for a bit; he was terrible and it was the cutest thing you’d ever seen. He walked you back to your dorm, lacing his fingers with yours on the way. Your cheeks flushed at the motion, heart soaring more when he kissed you goodnight like a gentleman.

And it went on like this for a few weeks. This endearing, loving, sweet boy that was Enzo showering you with attention. Telling you lovely things in your ear. Fingers tracing patterns on your skin behind the privacy of the four poster curtains in his dorm. The domestic feeling of his arm slung over your shoulders while walking in the hall; a way of being labeled as his. 

So when he had to cancel several plans in a row, you started to feel a pit in your stomach. But your friends brushed it off. It was quidditch season. He was likely just busy with practice, exhausted after. He wasn’t purposely avoiding you. Surely he couldn’t be. 

Some nerves were calmed when he met up with you after lessons a few days later, walking with you to lunch and carrying your bag for you like he’s done so many times before. He kissed your cheek, stating he was going to sit with his friends and you should catch up with yours. You put on a smile, not wanting to beg for his attention…and did as he suggested. 

A few days after that you still hadn’t had much one on one time with him. Not like before. You hadn’t specifically had a discussion about hanging out with him after dinner, but you continued to walk the same way as he and his friends anyway. You’d done it before, you were in step with Enzo and the rest, it was fine. 

Mattheo continued his conversation, eyes only briefly glancing in your direction with a raised brow. You were none the wiser, but Enzo picked up on the subtlety. In what was likely the same unspoken language the others turned down the path to the dungeons while Enzo pulled you down another corridor. 

“What’re you doing?” Enzo was the first to speak, his arms crossed. Guarded. You shifted on your feet, his scrutinizing gaze making you feel uncomfortable, “I, erm…well..w-we just haven’t gotten to see much of each other this week so I thought..” 

Enzo held his hand up, halting your nervous ramble. He turned away from you, running his hands over his face and through his hair. “Fucking Salazar, you so fucking pathetic. Following me and my friends around. Don’t you have any of your own?” Your mouth dropped, taking a step back. You were at a loss for words, not knowing where this came from. Taking your silence as a response Enzo shook his head, “I’ve gotta go. Don’t follow me.” 

Two days later Enzo found you in the library, your favorite Honeydukes sweets in hand. An apology. For what he’d said. How he’d treated you. He said he didn’t mean it. That he was stressed out; his quidditch captain pushing them harder for the upcoming game. 

You forgave him. 

Because of course you did. And for a week or two it seemed like your Enzo, your sweet angel Enzo was back. Or at least trying to be. There were still times you didn’t hear from him at all. Or made plans and he just didn’t show up. But you rationalized those in your head. For one reason or another. 

But after three days of either not speaking to him, or him seemingly turning around in the corridor once you’d spotted him, you knew you needed to talk. 

You had waited until after curfew. Knowing that’s when he’d likely go to his spot if he were going to be there. Despite the burning in your lungs you treaded up the stairs to Astronomy Tower. When you reached the landing he was on, his back was facing you. He must have thought you were someone else because his voice sounded more lively than you’d heard it in weeks. 

“Matt, did you bring the–oh..it’s you,” Enzo’s face fell completely flat at the sight of you. And your heart shattered. “What’re you doing here?” there was a bit of sourness in his voice; it made your skin crawl. “I-I thought you’d be up here.” 

Enzo rolled his eyes, using his wand to light the joint he settled between his lips, “Well here I am, ten points to you for figuring out that treasure hunt.” You frowned, not understanding where this was all coming from. 

“Did I do something to you?” 

Enzo threw a half-hearted glance your way, eyebrows furrowing as an indication for you to go on. Or at least that’s what you thought. “Why are you being like this? Avoiding me, treating me like trash you’d tossed on the pavement. What did I do to you, Enz?” 

The corners of his mouth upturned slowly, a brief smirk flashing over his features as his tongue ran over his teeth. He looked nothing like the Enzo you knew. Each word he spoke next dripped with venom that felt like it was coating your soul.

“Oh..baby… did you think you were special? That you were different than every other body I use just to get off? What on earth would give you that idea, huh.. those pretty words I said in your ear? My lips trailing so delicately down your skin? Every last one before you got that, too. Didn’t you know?” 

He laughed, a low rumbling chuckle from deep in his soul that broke yours with every shake of his head, “You should see your face.” You back away from him, willing yourself not to cry despite the tears brimming your eyes. Not here, not in front of him. Not when he’s like this. 

You made quick work of the stairs on the way down, nearly flying sans broom to the bottom. Wiping your eyes, your vision was blocked, slamming into the body at the base of the steps and knocking you back on your ass. A non-committal ‘hmm’ came from above you and you chanced seeing who it might be. 

Glancing upward you were faced with both Mattheo and Theo; the first smirking while the second looked rather bored. “Berk finally cut the cord?” Mattheo’s question held no sympathy, speaking as though he were having any other conversation. You pushed off the steps to stand, “I just..I don’t understand.” 

Mattheo shook his head, “Are you really surprised? Didn’t I tell you, sweetheart? Didn’t I warn you. I warned them, right Theo?” Mattheo smiled as he looked over to his friend. Theo’s previously bored demeanor turning into one of amusement, “Loud and clear, compagno.” 

You pushed past them, making your way back to your own dorm. Crawling silently into your bed before crying just the same. 

A few days after that you ran into Mattheo and Theo again. Having time to think, feeling more composed, you approached them. Mattheo quirked a brow at your presence, Theo taking the speaking role this time, “Can we help you?” Even with the time you were with Enzo you didn’t really hear Theo talk that much, so his straightforward approach was off putting. 

You shrugged, confused now as well as to what you were doing, “I-I..erm, I don’t know. I think I was just saying hi.” The pair looked at each other before looking back at you. “Why?” The question came from Mattheo and in all honesty, you were confused by it. “Erm, because we’re..friends?”

Theo smiled at the ground, head shaking. When he looked back at you his eyes were cold, “Oh you thought we were actually friends? No, no, that’s just what you do when your best mate brings their little play thing into the dynamic. You’re nice to them. For as long as they want them around, but that’s over now.” 

Your entire face dropped, Theo continued, “Once Enzo cuts you off you’re off. Stop trying to hold on to us.” Mattheo holds up a finger, “Unless…you know, you wanted to share your talents.” Theo’s grinning, watching your brows furrow before Mattheo continues, “Berkshire did give you some praise. What was it he said again? Oh! That your mouth can do fantastic things when it’s filled.” 

Theo’s suppressing giggles now, hand covering his mouth as you seemingly got more and more offended. Mattheo was eating it up, “Awh, baby. If you’re gonna pout, can you at least do it on your knees. Gimme the full experience, will ya?” 

You scoffed, trying to hold your composure as you stalked off. This was wrong. This was not happening. 

You had to find him. Had to just have one more chance to get Enzo alone. Then you could talk to him. Make some sense of this all. It had to be a misunderstanding, surely. So when you do find him and he agrees to have a chat you’re floored. 

You meet him near the dungeons, in one of the quieter, unused corridors. When Enzo see’s you he’s fast approaching; pulling you into a bone crushing hug. “I’m actually really glad you asked to talk, I’ve…been meaning to ask you to talk to.” He smiles that old smile you love and somehow you’re convinced that maybe everything could go back to normal. 

It seems like you’re right, too. You’re letting your feelings be known, and it looks like he’s listening intently. “You really hurt me, ya know?” The distance between the two of you is short. You’re hoping you’re conveying how you’re feeling in a way that he understands. That he cares. 

And Enzo nods, closing the distance between you, and his eyes seem full of sorrow when he says, “I know, baby, I did hurt you, didn’t I…” and he’s got a hand on your waist, thumb brushing the skin of your hip and his other is cupping your face, a grip on your jaw that turns your neck open for him and he can hear the slight gasp leave your throat as he leans in close; then you hear his voice in your ear. 

“Pathetic…almost easier than the first time.” 

So you push him back with a bit of anger; and he lets you. And he’s smiling again, that unfamiliar smile that is apparently his true look of enjoyment while he runs a hand through his hair, “I told Matt I could fool you again. But he actually had a bit of faith in you, cute right? He said there was ‘no way you’d be that fucking easy again’. Guess I owe you a thanks. You just made me 20 galleons.”

A feeling of dread washes over you, like a cold shock to your system. Your feet move on their own, away from him, anywhere but where he is. You’re in a state of shock that makes it seem like you’re running away when really you’re just at a loss for words. 

The next week felt like a year. A hollow emptiness sitting in your chest. You’re crying most nights, as quietly and silently as you can into your pillow. Barely eating at meals, simply pushing the food around your plate half the time. You’re a shadow of a person walking from class to class, but your friends don’t say anything about it. They think you just need to mope a bit, then it’ll be done. 

Enzo sees it. All of it. Watches you slowly deteriorate from the person you once were. Watches your friends abandon trying to cheer you up. He sees you not even notice when they’re gathering their things, getting ready to leave the table and head somewhere else. He sees them give you a glance, before shrugging, probably assuming you’ll catch up. 

Then when you’re alone, that’s when he does it. Approaches you again, with that same pretty smile from a few months ago. You give him a weak one, cautious. But then he’s saying all the right things, not truly apologizing for what happened before, but talking nicely enough that you’re starting to feel like your old self.  And just like that, he’s got you. And you don’t deny him. Because sure, he’ll most likely break your heart again. That, that was almost a guarantee. But what you’ve learned is that it seems like he always comes back. After the heartbreak that is. And he picks up the pieces in a way. And in the end, you’d rather have Enzo like this…than no Enzo at all.

[milfsloverblog]

Opening my notes app and reading through the draft I’ve written for Secret Benefits pt5 when I was drvnk last night

[littlemissmoodswings]

need aemond to bring alys back to king's landing at some point for just like five minutes so larys can see his life (and maybe death) flash before his eyes.

aegon w/larys "on his side" v aemond w/alys "on his side"

love it. love the dynamic.