#saying this to a child who dissociated a whole year

[the-celestial-bitch]

typical asian parents disappointed that their child miraculously escaped the torture school

[strawbeerossi]

If You Leave Me

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After coming home, Spencer has nightmares of his wife leaving him after the weight of prison weighs on him after his release.

Content Warnings: Depression, mentions of problems with eating, nightmares, fear of abandonment, mention of parental abandonment, spoilers for the prison arc, mentions of blood and being beaten, anxiety, there’s a panic attack, general angst, light fluff towards the end

Word Count: 1.4K

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'The Show' is so amazing, so I might make more based on each song on the album.

“Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.” John F Kennedy.

Spencer had faced change for his whole life. Between his father leaving him with no explanation when he was a child to his mother’s schizophrenia spiralling, he was the poster child for adapting to the plethora of things that life can throw at you and making the best of things.

Child abandonment coupled with a mother whose illness was worsening, there was a lot of pressure on him at a young age. Spencer wanted to take care of his mother, make sure she was safe and sound. He enjoyed lying with her and reading, spending his time with the woman who he cared for. He struggled with making many friends.

Not a lot of high schoolers want to be friends with a twelve-year-old child prodigy. He was the target of relentless bullying, his safest place being home where he could read in the comfort of his own bedroom.

Most children who had any form of trauma as a child turned out to be psychopaths, incapable of empathy and most who exhibited those symptoms were serial killers, he was quite the opposite. Spencer would say that he turned out alright. 

Three PHDs, being a supervisory special agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, as well as being a literal genius. He had a team of people who loved him dearly, a good amount of godchildren who he adored, as well as a beautiful wife who did so much for him.

When Spencer was imprisoned, his experience killed a piece of him. The once sweet, innocent Dr. Spencer Reid was now a man who was more prone to showing his complex emotions, his temperament changing. He wasn’t nearly as talkative, he was having a harder time processing things that used to take him mere seconds to understand. It was why they had placed him on a weird schedule; every one hundred days spent in the field would have thirty days off following behind. He thought it was the stupidest decision they made.

Despite all of his protests, nobody would hear him out. It brought on the thoughts of him being untrustworthy. After all, he did kill Nadie Ramos. He may have been under the influence of drugs but that didn’t excuse a damn thing. He killed her with his bare hands. 

That haunted him. The fact that he could be capable of madness, capable of murder. It didn’t help that soon after, he was producing a tampered batch of drugs that he was being forced to push within those four cement walls.

Everyone told him that it wasn’t his fault, that some people were pushed to dark acts in order to ensure their survival. After all, a federal agent in the general population sector was a huge target, someone who would have a lot of enemies. Too many enemies.

After his release, there came a plethora of emotions. Y/N was a saint, patient as could be and more loving than he ever could’ve hoped for. Even when he was dissociating into his mind to shield him from all too familiar territory, she was right there. It had gotten to a point where he severely depended on her, the attachment so strong that he would follow her around the house as if he were a kitten who needed constant attention. 

Dinner was hard, the man having to be reminded that he could take his time to eat and he had no risk of someone coming and taking it whether he allowed them to or not. There were nights where he wouldn’t take a packet of cookies from his wife, stressing over having to ‘pay her back’. It took a lot to break him out of that routine.

Don’t get him started on the nightmares. They were vivid, placing him back to the night when he was beaten in prison or to the day where Luis Delgado had his throat slit in front of him because of his own choices. It was like he could still feel the warmth of the crimson blood staining his hands in the failed attempt to stop the bleeding. 

In addition to nightmares that were filled with blood and violence, there was another recurring nightmare. One that killed him more than any sort of guilt of association ever could. It started out the same way every time, he would come in the house after a long winded case. There would be a lot of stress on his shoulders, a tightening in his chest because of the fact the case didn’t end the way the team had anticipated. He would then walk into the kitchen, where Y/N would be waiting for him. There was no sweet greeting, no kiss against his lips while she hugged him and cried about missing him. 

Instead there was a tense silence, the usually warm apartment freezing. She would turn to him, her eyes filled with exhaustion, no glimmer of love shining over them as they faced one another.

“I can’t do this anymore. You aren’t who you used to be, this time by myself has made me realize that I am much happier without you here. I don’t have to coddle you, treat you like a baby. I just can’t bring myself to love you anymore.” 

Spencer was waking up in a cold sweat, his body jolting upwards on the mattress while his other hand was quickly, yet cautiously reaching beside him to feel his wife’s shoulder. The touch had Y/N stirring awake, a gentle frown on her face. “Spencer?” Her voice was filled with drowsiness, her hands slowly pushing her to sit up on her knees while her free hand was leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. 

Any form of annoyance from drowsiness was wiped away when she noticed her husband’s state. His face was drenched in sweat, his chest was heaving from the impending anxiety attack, he was unable to talk as his body trembled. “Shh, hey.” Y/N whispered as she was shuffling closer, pulling back the duvet so she could carefully pull her husband into her arms. 

Her fingers were threading through the messy curls, a weak sigh leaving her lips as she could feel his arms tightly wrap around her torso, practically squeezing the life out of her.

“I’m here. It’s okay, baby, I promise. Luis dream again?” She asked softly, her lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his skull.

“You left.” His voice was hoarse, the tears joining in soaking his face the same way that the sweat had done over the course of the night. “Baby..” Y/N whispered while her fingers were lightly scratching over his scalp, her cheek resting against his head as she was being hugged tightly, as if she would disappear if Spencer let her go. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that.” Her words were dipped in that sweet assurance, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. 

Spencer faced enough people who abandoned him in his life with little to no explanation, she could never be added to that list. He spent three long and gruelling months in a maximum security prison for a murder that he was pushed into doing under the influence of a drug that Cat Adams and Lindsey Vaughn got their hands on. 

This wasn’t like he was a man who snapped and murdered an innocent woman because of deterioration of his sanity. He was absolutely nothing like the men and women he hunted down for his job, she tried to push that every time that she could. “You’re a good man, you know that. I would be a fool to leave you.” She said softly. 

As her body was eventually laying down against the mattress, she couldn’t help but smile once Spencer quickly followed her movements. Her legs were spreading in order to invite him between them, the male laying on top of her as his head was against her chest. “There we go..” She cooed softly, her fingers continuing to comb through the tousled curls. 

With his cheek now smashed against his wife’s chest, he listened to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. 

The drumbeat mixed his wife’s sweet words of assurance and the warmth of her love radiating against him was enough to have Spencer starting to drift off to sleep. 

How did he manage to get so lucky to have a woman who wouldn’t give up on him?

[callsign-rogueone]

deja vu - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader part of Bodhi and Darling's story 💗 words: 2.9k 🏷: set in the year before Fourth Wing (Bodhi’s first year). one tiny book spoiler but it’s not stated explicitly, hurt/comfort, anxiety, imagined character death (in a nightmare). mild dissociation, anxiety, nausea, fighting (challenge match), one very small injury, canon-typical peril and danger.

“I love you,” Bodhi rasps, closing his eyes. “I’m so… sorry…”

“No, no, hey, look at me,” you beg, hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re gonna be okay, we’re getting you help, but you have to keep looking at me, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move or make any indication that he can hear you. He’s silent, perfectly still — he isn’t breathing. 

“Bodhi,” you cry, “Bodhi, please don’t leave me. Wake up, please.”

His heart has stopped beating. The love of your life, the man who had sworn to protect you, who you had sworn to love in sickness and in health and through the test of time, until the end of your days, is dead.

You feel like the air has been squeezed from your lungs, your breaths coming in choked sobs. 

“Wake, child,” someone interrupts — Sìoda. “It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”

You shake yourself awake, panting like you’d been running for miles. You look down at your palms, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering into the room -- they’re clean; not streaked with Bodhi’s blood. It was just a dream. Just a terrible dream, likely a product of the overactive imagination you’ve had your whole life, and your anxiety about the dragonkind exam you have tomorrow that you’re convinced you’re going to fail, despite spending all evening studying. 

“Your mate, and all of your brothers and sisters are safe in their beds,” she soothes, “as are mine.”

Oh. You still aren’t any good at shielding, so she’s been getting all of your emotions through the bond — you’d likely woken her up with your distress.

“I’m sorry,” you say in a guilt-ridden whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Don’t apologize, my child. Just breathe.”

You mop up your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, and focus on deepening your breaths, trying to relax your racing heart.

“There are still a few hours until formation,” she says gently. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

You lay back down, gazing at the wall of gray stone beside you, counting the bricks and trying to find patterns in the texture until the exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall back asleep.

Thankfully, your subconscious doesn’t torment you with any more cruel sights. You wake up to gentle November sunlight warming your skin and birds chirping — last month, a pair of doves had made a nest in the tiny alcove by your window.

You get dressed quickly, sorting out your hair and straightening your uniform. You’re in the middle of lacing your boots when there’s a knock at your door, the familiar rhythm that you know can only be Bodhi; like clockwork, he comes down the hall to get you every morning so you can walk to breakfast together.

You unlock the door with your mind, something you’ve been able to do for the last week, breathing a sigh of relief when he walks into the room unharmed and smiling. You hug him extra tightly, tucking your head into his neck and holding him a moment longer than usual, comforted by the steadiness of his breathing.

“You okay, Darling?” he asks, sounding concerned.

You hum in contentment. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You don’t mention the dream, because nobody wants to hear about their own death, and it would be silly to bother him with something you’ve already gotten over — though you know the image of Bodhi bleeding out in your arms on the floor of that empty classroom will likely be burned into your brain forever.

He gives you an easy smile, shouldering your bookbag and gesturing for you to head out the door.

You’re comforted by the normalcy of the day. It’s almost too easy, too smooth.

Everyone is present and accounted for at breakfast, in good spirits — as good as they can be, in your current situation. Battle brief passes quickly, with no reports of catastrophe, though you know that they likely aren’t giving you all the information they have. The dragonkind test you’d been so worried about is much easier than you’d expected, and you have the rest of the afternoon off until dinner.

You don’t object as your squadmates suggest you use one of the empty common rooms to study in — the same one you’d seen in your dream. 

What would you even say? Sorry, guys, but can we pick somewhere else to be, because I had a nightmare last night that Bodhi died in this room? 

You shake it off, repeating Sìodha’s words in your mind as you crack open your textbook: It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But then every word of the conversation going on around you starts to sound very familiar, like you’ve heard it before — like they’re reciting lines for a stage play.

It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But this can’t be a coincidence. There’s too many similarities for comfort; the location, the timing — the sun is just starting to set — the exact page that each boy’s book is open to… you remember that, remember Sawyer’s book being open to a page with that same illustration.

“Have you done number four yet? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Let me see.”

You predict their replies with nearly perfect accuracy — because you’ve heard this exact conversation before.

What if it is real? What if you’re trapped in an endless loop like in one of the novels you’d read, where the leading lady has to live the worst day of her life over and over until she figures out how to change it? 

You could hardly bear to watch the light leave Bodhi’s eyes in that dream, and so help you gods, you are not going to see it ever again; you’re going to do something about it.

You’d read some theory in a philosophy book once that the flap of a butterfly’s wings can set off a chain of events that cause a hurricane. Would it be safer to stop this exact moment as it happens, or to interrupt now? Or was that dream really just a dream, and today will just be a normal day, or Basgiath’s version of normal, and you’re worrying over nothing?

“I don’t think that’s it. I think that’s the answer to number five, though.”

Those are the words. You’d almost missed them, too concerned about what’s going to happen in the next five seconds, but you should have just enough time if you act now. Sìodha seems to think so too, sending you a flood of urgency and panic.

You tackle Bodhi to the ground, wrapping an arm around his waist and putting a hand behind his head to cushion his fall as you both hit the floor. Your knuckles split on the impact, pain ripping through your hand, but all you can focus on is Bodhi underneath you — his eyes wide with shock, but still blinking up at you, his lips parted in a gasp, but not slick with blood, his heart racing, but not stopping. 

There’s a shout from beside you, the clatter of metal against stone, and the sounds of a brief struggle. Dain has the would-be assassin pinned in a matter of seconds, Sawyer helping him restrain her and haul her away, leaving you and Bodhi alone, still tangled up in one another on the floor, his eyes locked with yours.

He finally manages to form words, but not a complete sentence, still stunned. “What… How did you… What?”

“I saw this in a dream last night,” you answer, your voice wavering. “I saw you sitting right here with me, talking to Sawyer. You said that same sentence, and then there was a knife in your chest.” 

You look to your right, where it lays on the floor a few feet away — the exact shape and length as the one you’d dreamed of. “That knife.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen even further as he puts it together.  “I think that was your signet,” he breathes. “You’re a visionary.”

You finally let go of him, moving to sit by his side on the cold stone of the floor and staring blankly at the dagger. It had missed either of you by at least three feet, but had you acted a second later, or not at all… That doesn’t matter, you suppose. What matters is that Bodhi is alive; that you’d been able to save him, because you’d known what was going to happen and you altered course at the last second. 

You should be proud of yourself, but all you can think about is his words to you, and the implications thereof. If this is truly your signet, then you’ll have to watch this kind of thing happen over and over, and likely not just to Bodhi, but to the rest of your friends, too. But what if you can’t stop it next time? What if you see something happen to the twins? They’re a two-hour flight away, and you can’t abandon your post just because you had a dream that something bad happened to them. 

Will any of your dreams be just dreams anymore, or are you going to see all manner of terrible things every night for the rest of your life? How are you supposed to distinguish between dreams and reality, between the sleepy inventions of your subconscious, or the magic of your signet?

“I’m sorry, child. It is a powerful gift to have, but it can be quite cruel.”

You can hear Bodhi speaking, likely a thank you and some soft reassurances, but you don’t process the words. You don’t respond to either of them, still not fully convinced that this isn’t another dream.

The warmth of his hand on your arm starts to pull you out of that numbness. “Talk to me, darling.”

“I watched you die,” you whisper. “There was nothing I could do. I just had to hold you, until… I thought it was just a nightmare, but then it started happening in reality, and...”

You shake your head, eyes welling with tears that you try to blink away. You tell yourself that there’s no reason to be crying, no use when he’s standing in front of you, alive, breathing and talking and holding your hand, but you can’t stop the flood of emotion; confusion and relief and horror and several other things you can’t put a name to right now.

“Hey,” he coaxes, “look at me.”

You focus your gaze on him, on those soft brown eyes that still blink at you, the rise and fall of his chest.

“I’m okay,” he says softly, wrapping your hand around his wrist, mindful of your scraped knuckles. He positions your fingertips over his pulse, pressing them into the skin so you can feel the gentle beat of his heart. “I’m alive, because you saved me.”

You nod silently, warm tears slipping down your cheeks. 

He gathers you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back in soft, soothing motions. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, my darling girl. But the next time something like that happens, you tell me, okay? I don’t care if you wake me up at three in the morning, I want to be there for you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Good.”

You stay like this for a moment, just sitting with him and finding comfort in the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his breathing.

“Do you want to go to the healers for your hand, or do you want me to wrap it up for you?”

“Want you to do it,” you answer softly, still feeling a little fragile. You don’t want to be away from him, even for a moment; you might work up the courage to ask if you can sleep in his bed tonight.

“Okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple, getting up to pack your bags.

Dain and Sawyer haven’t returned, likely still in Varrish’s office with the unbonded girl. You scribble a quick note to thank them, and to say that you’re done studying for the afternoon, leaving it on top of Dain’s book.

Bodhi picks up your bag, shouldering it along with his own.

He stops to pick up the dagger, sheathing it at his side, and you blink at him, confused. “You’re keeping it?”

“Of course I’m keeping it. It’s a memento of my first assassination attempt.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Only you could be so proud about someone wanting to kill you.”

He pulls you in closer, tucking you under his arm. “Not nearly as proud as I am of you. You should have seen it. I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life.”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, suddenly shy. “I was worried I’d lose you,” you say softly.

“You won’t ever lose me,” he soothes. “We made each other a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“So do I,” you say quietly. “So do I.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t have any more terrible dreams -- visions -- for the rest of the week, just a generalized sense of anxiety and insomnia, waiting for the next one and wondering what it’ll be, what terrible fate may befall one of your friends.

Each day that passes simultaneously soothes your anxiety and stokes it. If you aren’t dreaming of any terrible things, then they won’t happen, but what if you don’t dream them? What if you can’t see harm coming to them in advance, and thus can’t prevent it?

As soon as you enter the gym for Emeterrio’s class, it hits you again; that incredibly strong sense that something very bad is going to happen, very soon.

Bodhi sees your posture change, your normal relaxed and graceful presence tightening uncomfortably, and puts it together immediately, looking at you with concern.

“I have that feeling again,” you manage, forcing down the acid rising in your throat. “But this time, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” he soothes.

“You don’t know that,” you reply, still looking around, surveying the gym for anyone that could pose a threat to you or any of your friends, which happens to be every single person in the room. 

He takes your hand, and the feeling stops; vanishes completely, as if it was never there. Bodhi’s presence and his gentle touch have always been a comfort to you, often the only comfort you have, but nothing like that has ever happened before, a relief so intense and sudden.

Your gaze snaps to him, eyes widening. “How did you…”

He lets go, and the anxiety and nausea comes back in a tidal wave that nearly knocks you over. He lays a hand on your back to steady you, worried you’ll collapse, and the feeling dissipates again in the blink of an eye. Definitely not a coincidence.

“I think you turned it off,” you whisper. “When you let go, it came back.”

He blinks at you for a few seconds, processing. “Do you think that’s…”

“Laurent and Daneel,” Emeterrio calls.

Oh. That’s what you’re supposed to be worried about.

“Deep breath,” Bodhi prompts.

You inhale as deeply as you can before he moves his hand off of your back, and you aren’t hit with another tidal wave, just a normal, manageable level of anxiety appropriate for someone about to start a challenge match.

But as you step onto the mat, the anxiety fades into… something new. Confidence, like nothing you’ve ever felt before -- like you know you’re going to win this fight, without question, like it’s already been written down in the professor’s gradebook, and carved into history. 

Interesting.

You lower your head to your opponent in respectful acknowledgement, getting a snarl in response. Well, then. Maybe this will be harder than you’d thought -- but you still have that unshakeable feeling that you’re going to come out on top.

She makes the first move, a punch that you’re able to dodge easily. She tries again -- and you step to the side without thinking, avoiding the blow by a few inches.

You continue dodging and blocking, reacting naturally, almost subconsciously, not even thinking about your movements. 

You feel the same strange feeling you’d felt during the conversation leading up to Bodhi’s would-be assassination; you’d known all the words, knew what was going to happen because you’d seen it in a dream -- only you don’t remember dreaming any of this at all. It had been a total surprise that your name would be called with hers, the intense anxiety you’d felt being the only indicator, and even then, you’d been worried that it would be one of your friends in danger, not yourself.

Very interesting.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you realize exactly what is happening -- this is your signet at work, that familiar hum of power through your veins as you move, keeping you a few seconds ahead of everyone else in the room.

“You’ve had your fun,” Sìoda nudges, sounding amused. “Now end this, and end it well.”

The girl agrees. “Come on, you filthy fucking traitor! Fight me already!”

There’s a collective intake of breath from the quadrant as they wait for you to respond -- every eye in the gym is watching you, even the other cadets that are supposed to be fighting across the room, but you don’t move, don’t react to the comment, preparing for what’s going to happen next.

She hurls a dagger at you, enraged by your lack of engagement in this fight -- and your hand flies up to catch it, your fingers wrapping around the hilt and stopping it in midair.

Silence. Absolute dead silence.

You examine it for a second before you tuck it into your belt, looking back up at her. “Let’s fight, then.”

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 4

[Part 3]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older, reader is questioned by police, reader witnessed a crime, reader tried to be a hero, violence, blood, mentions of death, dissociation, abduction

Focus Dick (Nightwing)

------

Life moved on after the incident with Redhood. He'd left early that morning leaving a note saying, 'See you soon Sparky -RH'. You didn't care to think of what the note could mean. So you burried the strange sense of foreboding that clawed in your mind at the note. Maybe the Gotham paranoia had gotten to you?

Either way, things in the next few days were normal...as normal as Gotham could be. The bat clan had put most of the heavy rollers back in Arkham at a record speed. No one knew if it was just the rogues being sloppy, or the bats were feeling a tad extra feral. You remembered when you first learned about Batman and his underlings; the idea of the police having feral furry themed vigilantes was funny. You'd thought your new neighbor was joking. But no, it was true, and after your personal run-ins with Robin and Redhood, you could confidently claim the group was feral and would punch God..any God really... given the chance. Which was what Gotham needed to be blunt.

It was nice though that you got out of the heart of Gotham sometimes. So you'd taken a day off to go to Bludhaven. It wasn't better than Gotham, but it was a change of place. The fact that a comic store was having a closing door sale was totally *not* the reason. It was.. but you were hoping to get something cool for cheap! Nerd stuff was expensive, and as a nerd, you knew that well.

The quest for a trinket wasn't supposed to end with you being brought into the local police station for questioning. You weren't part of a crime no, but you were a witness, *the* witness. A mugging gone wrong. Honestly the details were fuzzy, yet at the same time, key parts you couldn't forget. The feeling of the woman's heart fading as you held pressure on the stab wound. The wheeze in her voice as she struggled to breathe and tell you her final words. The way your body trembled as the paramedics arrived and carted her away to a hospital. The sensation of blood on your hands and skin, and the smell...

"You okay?" The police officer's voice pulled you from the spiral of your thoughts.

"I'm sorry what?" You were in a haze, shock most likely.

"I asked if you would be okay answering a few more questions. Detective Grayson just got here and wants to ask a few."

"Oh sure yeah..." the voice, no your voice spoke, but it didn't feel like you.

Dick Grayson walked into the room the officers had put you in. You weren't in trouble. A nearby camera had seen it all go down, but you were a vital witness, one who was clearly not well after what you saw. Dick didn't blame you for your state either. He...he should have been there. When Bruce had called telling him you were in Bludhaven, he was ecstatic to think he could meet you. He'd been planning a nice little meet cute styled thing to bridge a gap from a stranger to you to being besties. He was your eldest brother, the one you'd be able to rely on most. You'd love everyone in the family but you'd come to him first for everything. He could so easily picture it. The two of you staying up late, watching films and you opening up to him and feeling safe in his company. The inside jokes you'd have together, you'd both be thicker than thieves.

So seeing you as you were now was a reminder of just how fragile you were. You were in shock a really bad case of it too. Your eyes were distant as you struggled to answer the basic questions. You were shaking. You still had the victim's blood on your shirt too. He should have been there. Any of them should have, but you were in *his* turf so it should have been him. He should have gotten there before you had to see it. You shouldn't have had to apply pressure to a wound like that.

Your voice was hollow, he'd seen videos of you. Hollow is never something he could have pictured you as. You had so much life to you. Yet here you were in this state because of *his* failures; as Nightwing, a detective, and a big brother. What if it had been you? You would have died on his watch in his turf. He couldn't handle that right now.

He got the answers he could from you, then easily guided you out. He told his fellow workers he was taking you home. No one questioned it, Dick was a good guy and not the type to let a traumatized witness go home alone.

You didn't question him as he ushered you to his car, or where he was taking you when you hadn't told him where you lived. He wasn't sure you could do that right now. He wasn't lying saying he was taking you home... it just wasn't the home you'd have expected if you were more here. The room in the manor wasn't perfect, but you'd be safe there.

He brought you inside, and the family members at home seethed at him. He couldn't blame them, this was his fault. Cass took you with help from Alfred to get you cleaned up and put you to bed. His heart broke seeing how you just went with everything. Like you were aware enough to function on a base level and orders, but mentally? You were gone. Pulled into yourself, protecting yourself from the trauma that he'd caused. He should have been there.

[slutt4ellie]

Sacred Hearts Entwined

(Bare with me this is the first story i’ve ever written!)

Ellie Williams X Reader

masterslist

Part 2 -> ✞

Part 3 -> ✞

What do you do when you’re falling hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend?

Summery: You’ve been friends since 2nd grade first meeting in school. Growing up in a religious background you’ve always been taught the “right” way to think. So why are you falling in love with her..?

Warnings -> Mentions of the “d slur” / Parents are controlling / homophobia / Both extremely confused of their feelings / cheating / (lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 2.3k

(Did not proofread!!)

The girl who caught your eye since you were kids, Ellie Williams.

Age 6 (grade 2) -

You didn’t have much friends, after all it was only grade 2 and being popular was probably the least of your concerns, at least that’s what your mom constantly told you.

Growing up as a naturally shy kid, meant going outside of the box to talk to people wasn’t precisely your idea of “fun”! That’s why you often dissociated, it seemed easier that way? So, as soon as the bell rang for recess you would go to the back of the playground where no one else sat watching the different animals the would scale the trees while the birds would flow through the sky.

But today was a different day, as you did that normal routine a girl sat beside you, freckles that trailed all around her face and light green eyes that shined in the sun with auburn hair which ended up being almost bright red in the sun.

“Do you like watching the animals too?” She asked fairly quietly looking at her hands, you sorta look at her and nod, to nervous to talk..

Age- 7 (grade 3) -

You shortly did learn her name after that moment, Ellie Williams. To be fair you actually started learning almost everything about her. She’s an only child, loves spending most of her time doing art or playing outdoors, she’s way more extroverted then you ever could be, and she has a pet dog named Max.

You and Ellie almost spent all your time together if not at her house playing outside then you guys would be cooped up in your basement finding new board games while your mother cooked dinner for you guys upstairs. Coming out of your shell with her seemed easier then other people, she made it easy. After all she didn’t get easily bored of my shyness through the beginning.

Age 10 (grade 6) -

“Okay push!!” Ellie groans pushing a trash bin closer to the convenience store ladder which leads to the roof. “Ellie this is dumb” You say on the opposite side using your back to help her push it. “Just relax! Once we get up there, then we can practically see the whole town!” She smiles continuing to push it “But if we get caug-“ You can’t even finish your sentence before she talks “We won’t get caught!” She says as the trash bin finally reaches the end of the brick wall.

“K boost me!” Ellie smiles walking up beside you as you slowly crouch resting your back on the cold metal trash bin, you put your hands in a cuff which Ellie’s foot rest in as you lift her up. She’s not even standing on the trash bin for more then 10 seconds before the bottom gives out and she falls feet first in the bagged trash “Ag fuck! Help!” Ellie groans trying to lift herself out.

You burst out laughing not even grabbing her hands to help her up and out, but now she yells “Help me!!” You’re still cackling as she practically falls out “Eww now you smell weird!” You laugh getting away from her “Oh yeah you want a hug?” Ellie says chasing after you as you run away into the distance.

Age 14 (Freshman year) -

“It’s bullshit!” Ellie says annoyed “They didn’t care about signing us up for a catholic school for the last 10 years” Ellie says kicking in her new shoes she got for her uniform “Maybe just a change of heart” You shrug almost accepting it “You barley even care” Ellie says looking at you “Us pouting isn’t gonna change our parents mind, the decision is final now?”

“I don’t wanna even go, I look really dumb in a skirt.” Ellie holds it up disappointed “Ellie you look fine in a skirt” You sorta smile looking at her “I don’t, I rather just wear the pants.” Ellie groans sliding her hands down her face dramatically “Well I think you look good?” You say partially because you want her to stop whining about it but mainly because you mean it.

Age 15 (grade 10) -

“So you’re going with Alex then?” Ellie ask looking at you as you read a book “I mean yeah he asked it would be weird not to go?” You sorta shrug “K..? I- We just always made fun of people who went to the dances, I just didn’t except you to suddenly change?” Ellie says, she wants it to seem like she doesn’t care but she’s genuinely doing a horrible job covering it. “I guess I didn’t get the impression you cared so much?” An annoyed tone leaking through your voice.

“I don’t.” Ellie says almost coldly adding on a few seconds later. “I’m probably gonna dip, my parents want me home soon anyway.” Ellie says standing up. You sorta just wave also not in the mood it’s been a long day and you don’t wanna fight with Ellie over a stupid thing like going to the dance with someone.

16 (grade 11) -

The moment where the story starts to go downhill, well this is it. You got together with Alex a few weeks after the dance and you’ve been together all summer. Leaving little time for Ellie, and don’t get me wrong! It’s not like it’s purposefully happening, it’s just the fact that you’re both at 2 different points and spending all your time with the person you’ve previously been doing that with for 10 years isn’t exactly on your top priority list. Ellie’s also just been weird around you, she doesn’t like it when Alex is brought up occasionally sighing every time he’s even mentioned or going on about how she can’t see you guys going beyond high school. And at this point you finally talk “You say it like you’re fucking jealous?” You say a bit pissed off.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” Ellie claps back. “I don’t know Ellie! Please you tell me, every time I bring him up it’s like the idea of me dating someone repeals you, I don’t get why you’re not happy for me!”

“Who ever said I wasn’t happy for you” Ellie says now no longer walking so she can actually look at you in the face. “You just imply it constantly, like am I missing something, did he do something??” You say actually wanting to hear her opinion, why she hates him. Ellie chokes up though, wanting nothing to do with the real reason she doesn’t like Alex.

“Because I-“ She stops, and switches what she was going to say. “Because me and you barley hang out anymore, last summer all we did was go to each others houses and now you have 0 time for me!” She sorta yells. “Because Ellie I have a boyfriend? Did you not except us to grow up?” You now yell back, this whole argument is picking up fast. “I expected you to have the fucking decency to hang out with me once in awhile, you think i’m some girl who’s just obsessed with you and it’s getting old” Ellie says hurt that becoming evident when her voice cracks. “Ellie I didn’t say-“ You can’t finish your sentence because she talks. “It’s fine we can hang out later.” She says turning around and walking away.

To be fair half of you wants to chase after her, talk to her like you used to before you guys even started high school, but you don’t. This isn’t a movie after all.

(Present: Saturday)

You and Ellie haven’t talked in about 4 days since the little fight, the annoying part of it is the fight wasn’t even that serious, it’s just neither of you know where to start.

Throughout your friendship there’s only been a few fights, none of them being at all important, dumb stuff like you never gave each others clothes back or broke a toy. Never something like this, something that actually had meaning.

You don’t even understand why it bothers Ellie so much that you’re dating Alex, she’s your best friend, if anything she should support it, you would support her? As of now though you’re trying to do everything in your power to completely ignore the fact you guys even had a fight, as long as she doesn’t talk to you and you don’t talk to her it’s fine! Right…?

That’s at least how you thought about it, avoiding it seemed like the best situation at the end of the day because you never had to confront the problem, you did that a lot. When you were 7 and broke a glass cup, the way you solved it was hiding it in between the tiny opening between your counter and oven. Which actually ending up working..till your brother found it and immediately snitched.

Tonight though there was a perfect distraction, there was a party and half the school was going to be there, I mean it was a safe assumption saying Ellie wasn’t going to be. She hated parties, she said “It’s like a bunch of toddlers in a room, not really anything fun about that?” Which wasn’t completely false but she rarely let loose and actually drank.

Tonight’s plan was to get blackout drunk, forget Ellie, forget school, just forget everything as of now, and just hang out with the guy you loved..?

Because you love Alex how could you not?? He plays football, is popular, has a bunch of friends, treats you nice! You would be insane not to like him!! So why does everything with him feel so stale and forced? Shit now you’re thinking to much about this, Ellie is just getting in your head.

So when it was 11pm and your boyfriend Alex picked you up you made sure to make him the only thing on your mind, hanging around him, being touchy, anything to convince you that you love him. “Baby can you get me a drink” He ask smiling kissing your cheek “Yeah of course” You smile walking over to the kitchen grabbing a red solo cup filling it up with punch when as you look up, there she in. Ellie..

“Real gentleman you picked out.” Ellie says sarcastically drinking out of her red solo cup clearly tipsy if not drunk. “What..” You sigh looking up at her.. “I said real gentlemen. I mean because he’s grabbing your drinks and all!” She smiles looking at you right in the eyes.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly care so much Ellie.” You say annoyed looking at her. “I don’t care I just know you could do better..” She shrugs looking at her red solo cup the confidence disappearing after that sentence. “Who’s the magical person who’s better for me then Ellie?” You look up at her

Ellie sorta shrugs. She wants to say her but she rather skip on border school because her stupid crush on you, if her parents found out Ellie would be kicked out in a matter of seconds. “I don’t know, just someone better” you just slowly nod as Ellie finishes her sentence “Thanks for that great speech Ellie.” Ellie grabs you arm as you try and leave. “When did you start settling for low?” Ellie ask looking at you “Fuck you” You push her.

Ellie pushes you back “You’ve changed” You quickly shoot back “You act like you fucking like me!” you say probably to loud “You seem like a dyke Ellie.” You don’t even know why you said that!..well you sorta do. It was to cover your own ass, it was better to say that then “I think i’m in love with you Ellie”. Ellie almost immediately steps back and walks out which prompted you to follow “Ellie I didn’t fucking- fuck.” You can’t even finish your sentence before she’s gone, at this point you’re almost sure you just fully screwed up your whole friendship.

(Sunday 3:47am)

You can’t fall asleep knowing you called Ellie that, it was a heat of the moment and you didn’t even fucking mean it, it felt so much easier then admitting you think you love her? What if she didn’t feel the same when, then the whole school knows you like girls and next thing you know your parents find out and you’re getting sent to a border school to be “corrected”! Fuck, fuck, fuck. You get out of your bed throwing on a t shirt and sweatpants, what are you even doing??

You quickly sneak out your window and start running to Ellie’s house which is about a 7 minute normal walk. As you run up you notice that Ellie’s bedroom light is on, so sneakily climb up onto the roof, you used to do that a lot during summer after your mom would say no to a sleepover but once you climb up Ellie’s window you lightly knock on it.

After about a minute and a half she opens the window and sees it’s you almost immediately shutting it. Before Ellie can shut it though she puts her palm on the window. “Ellie can we talk” You ask genuinely nervous she might say no.. “No, i’m studying?” Ellie completely lies but she just needs a shitty excuse “Ellie it’s Sunday can I just come in. Please.” At this point it’s like your begging and Ellie eventually opens the window fully. You step in looking at her “I’m so sorry” you say almost immediately “Mhm” Ellie replies, she doesn’t wanna here stupid ass sorry’s

“Ellie” You say looking at her.

And as soon as Ellie looks up you lean forward and kiss her. Ellie moves her hands on your face and you do the same..

But that moment is cut almost immediately right after when Ellie’s father walks in..

A/N -> I hope this is okay for my first post!! I’ve been reading on tumblr for about a month now and I thought making something could be interesting. I might make a part 2 depending on if I feel like it considering this story ends on a cliff hanger 😭

[sicariodechinchulines]

Damijon headcanon: Dami doesn't flirt, he COURTS.

•We tend to forgot WHERE and HOW Damian was raised. He just doesn't get the concept "Highschool sweetheart". when he first mentioned that, they were at a gala.

"-Im not interested on playdates, that's a waste of time.-" and they nodded because that's SOOO him, but then... "-If someone is interested on my being and dare to ask for my hand, I expect them to be ready for marriage. If not, then is just to be mean a ephemeral game that I won't even bother to remember, they shouldn't either."

Unnecessary to say that reporters we're so fucking excited with that response, so much that they didn't notice Dick Grayson hanging from a chandelier.

• and yes, he had a girlfriend before, even shared some kisses with other ladies and acted like a gentleman for them, but the truth is: he didn't take them seriously.

• Dami was ready for living alone and single, that's not the big deal, but Jon appeared again, and things started to get weird... in an amusing and warming way. Jon was now a mature good looking man, strong and good-natured as always. The little naive and childish boy was gone, and now was a man; a man worthy of his attention, in any areas.

• Without saying ANYTHING about his feels, he started to court Jon in the way he learned was appropriate, the problem is: Jon Kent is not a lady.

AND IS NEITHER SINGLE.

• Flowers, luxurious gifts and expensive jewelry. People started to suspect if Jon became some type of sugar baby for Damian, but when is questioned, Jon unsuspecting, answer "I don't know, rich people are weird"

• yes, people, Damian does HOLD the doors open for Jon, while ignoring the people behind, usually ending on them smashing their faces with the door.

• They rarely travel on cars, but when they do, Dami open the door for him; the bats are BEWILDERED by that.

• Needless to say that Jay DOES want to beat the shit out of him. (I don't blame him, if a sort of Arabic prince- heir of one of the biggest fortune in the world- a fucking Robin is trying to conquer MY boyfriend, I would love to beat the shit out of him too.)

Even if he's mad at him, don't see the point on competing with a child, because after all he's not even 15.

• Everyone knows that this boy is weird in SOOO many ways, but waiting 4 years until the object of your courtship is legally able to touch you, is little to much... even for Superman, who lost his virginity in his late twenties.

• Clark never say anything about that matter, first because he doesn't want to feed rumors, and second..

Because if he ADMIT that he would be okay with Damian marrying his son, Batman will KILL HIM.

•Even if he is worried about the future that Damian and Jon hold as best friends or partners, he can't denied that Damian devotion to Jon is cute.

Sorry but Clark is a hopeless romantic who loves his wife DEEPLY

(and he doesn't like Jay at all, he doesn't knows him as much he would like, neither is happy with the amount of info about his son that is on internet now thanks to jay's activism... but this ray of sunshine don't talk about that because, wHAT IF HE IS BEING HOMOPHOBIC OR SOMETHING?? Don't want to stress his boy with that.)

• after the SHOW Damian Wayne gave at that gala talking about his expectations on a partner and the PROPER way of courtship, the rumors about the younger Wayne being a heartbreaker like his father were over. NOW, they love to talk about how amazing and romantic Damian would be as a boyfriend.

When in an interview, a reporter mentioned Tim Drake-Wayne the titular "The teens dream: A prince like Damian Wayne. His thoughts about dating and how court a lady" he dissociated for 1 whole minute.

• the worst-best come now. Still hanging from that titular a journalist did DARE to ask about PRE-MARITAL SEX. (yes, Bruce demanded that journalist, yes, Bruce won.)

"- Isn't obvious? I'm against it, at least for myself. I don't find shame on waiting the proper person to lost your virginity with... even if I fall in love with SOMEONE who isn't virgin anymore, I'll wait anyway."

And yes, that was a hint for Jon. Jon didn't get it, but the press did.

It was funny how teen boys were so spiteful towards him and how teen girls were so delighted. Damian set the bar so high for Gotham boys.

• even with all the gifts and flowers and food, Jon is the ONLY ONE who don't notice. His mother did, his father did, Batman, Redhood, RedRobin and Nightwing DID, even StARFIRE AND THAT'S A LOT. a night after a mission she just said "Correct me if I'm wrong... but the little Robin is courting Superman according his culture standards, isn't?" And the whole Bat Boys just stared.

"That's adorable... a little gentleman!"

• They usually cuddle. It was hard for Jon getting used to it after YEARS gone, but Damian was weirdly okay with it, even pleased Jon can say.

But there was something unsettling. He don't cuddle him as before, instead he do it in a way that makes Jon feel incredibly conscious about himself, but safe anyway.

Damian does it on purpose, holding Jon head close to his chest when they are on the couch, caressing the side of Jon's jaw and lightly touching his temple.

If Jon is being lucky and Damian too tired, he will press his nose against his curls and close his eyes, answering anything with a lazy "mmh"

• Bruce is worried. He's not Clark, he's not tHAT optimistic. He knows his son and how unhinged and dangerous he can be, and see this said devotion as a time bomb. What if Jon is not that good??? Or Damian manage to CONQUER the teen's heart and decide to guide him into a darker path???? Jon probed that he can DIE for him in most of one occasion, Damian is starting to act the same and is unsettling.

Sorry if isn't readable, my mother language is Spanish and i learned English from comics, translator and weirdly poetic AO3 p0rn. If you're that kind, please point out my mistakes or care to give me an advice so I can better my grammar, ty so much!!!!

[writersblog20]

I got you, baby girl

Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: After a traumatic event, Pedro came in to make sure you felt safe again. You’re his baby girl after all.

Warnings: rage from the reader, hints to a bad household but no clear mention. A horrible father and stepmother, intimidation, (life) threats, mention of no safety, mention of the system failing the reader, ptsd, trauma, dissociating, edibles, dad jokes with Pedro, Reader calls Pedro old man (no offense, it’s part of an ongoing joke war in the story), Pedro being some sort of father figure vibes, wholesome relationship with Pedro, age-gap.

Words: 3,9K

A/N: So eh…. Something traumatic happened yesterday and this is what it’s based on the only thing different is that Pedro is in this. But yeah, I just really want and need him to comfort me because I’m seriously going through hell right now and yes I’m using the line from joel from the last episode from TLOU

 I got you, baby girl

You went to school and had a pretty good day. You felt alright and had a little bit more energy. You texted Pedro, like you guys always do. He was your co-star and you could say you had a pretty wholesome relationship. Kind of like Bella and Pedro have. You were great friends with Bella as well when Pedro introduced the two of you. Anyway, Pedro lived near you so the two of you spent time with each other as much as you could. He really was your comfort space and you loved him so much.

You walked into your classroom and it was going to be a long day but that was fine. You had an assignment and that would be: make a after movie from the event which would take up the whole day and evening but like I said, you were ready and gladly took the job.

The day went by fast and you went outside after the lessons to get some fresh air but that was when you saw her. The wife of your father. The one who did horrible things to you as a child. She did that besides your father. She was just as guilty. You immediately got on edge and went to fight or flight mode and yours was fight. And boy, did you want to fight her. The rage you felt was out of this world and you would happily sent her ten feet underground. It wasn’t that she would ignore you… Oh no… she was way worse, just like your dad and test you. She would always smirk at you and watch you. That made it always ten times worse because you wanted to bash her head in. First do all this shit to you as a child, getting away with it because the system failed you and then would always smirk at you when she would see you. It was like the biggest slap in the face because it told you everything you needed to know. “Yeah I did that and yes I got away with it. what are you going to do about it?” kind off smirk.

You walked back inside, completely in shock and that was when you realized that the event you needed to film, was why she was here. “Fuck….” You thought in utter shock as your body started to tremble, your eyes getting watery and your breathing became rapid. You texted Pedro about the situation and he knew a couple of things about your father. Just some snipped, important snippets nonetheless.

You texted Pedro but you knew he was in a meeting and probably wouldn’t respond right now. One of your teammates who walked outside with you, advised you to go to one of your teachers, preferably mentor. So you did.

You knocked on the door and walked in, sitting in front of your mentor as you spilled what was going on. You wished to never tell anyone here but you had no choice right now. You told the most important things but still wanted to do the assignment. You told her that you were scared that she might contact your father and that he would wait outside for you. He was a dangerous man and unpredictable. You never expected this to happen. You closed this chapter a long time ago and thought you might never see them again because you haven’t seen them for at least 2 years so you thought they moved or something but apparently not and now he knew what school you went to…

Your mentor gave you advise for what you could do if you felt uncomfortable or something would happen, where you could go and to who. You were deadest on doing this assignment. You wanted to because you never want them to take something else from you away, even if it would be this dumb project. It was the principle for you. There were moments where you teared up a couple of times but pushed those emotions away as much as you could, only to notice that it was getting harder with the second.

When you were done with the conversation, you and your teammates gathered the gear and started to get ready, only to be interrupted by your mentor and one of your other teachers, asking you to come with them. So you did. You felt a heaviness in the air, how could it not but you tried to stay as professional as you could because that was how you kept your emotions under control. Like you wanted to say, you know what, it’s not that big of a deal, forget about it.

But you knew. You knew this was a big deal and not something to take lightly, even though you really wanted to take this lightly so you could dissociate from it. Yeah, not a good copings mechanism. You sat down and the air got thicker and thicker with the second, almost making it unbearable to breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

Maybe you took it so lightly because you were already dissociating. You weren’t thinking clearly anymore and was very much led by your emotions, which is understandable. You teacher started speaking up. “Y/N, I’m really sorry to tell you this but I think it’s better for you to go home… We can’t guarantee your safety here. We know you’re strong and you want to do this assignment but there will be more to come so you don’t have to worry about that. But I think it’s the best to go home. Not only for your physical safety but also for your mental safety and to avoid conflict. I’m very sorry…”

She spoke softly but you felt your heart break in to a million pieces. You understand where they are coming from but the point is, that it’s even necessary and how fucking unfair it is. They did things to YOU and now YOU HAD to go home. Why did the system fail you? Why do you have to leave and not them. Why do you have to fight for your mental health because of things THEY did to you. Why can they live without any consequence? IT’S THEIR FUCKING FAULT AND NOW YOU HAD TO LEAVE. That was it. You felt so much injustice and it broke you down. You started crying and couldn’t stop.

They looked with sympathy at you and you hated it. You hated this conversation, you hated the people who did this and you hated this look. It was always the look. That’s why you didn’t want to tell people. You know they mean well and of course you would feel like shit even if they wouldn’t give you that look. It was just the unfairness. They took something from you, once again. Your mentor softly rubbed your knee. You even had to go through the fucking backdoor. You felt your phone buzz and look who it was. Pedro. Or in your phone: Pedge. You picked up, needed to hear him. That was the only thing you wanted right now. You needed Pedro.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Extreme worry laced in his voice. You started to tear up as you looked up at your teachers. “Could you maybe pick me up?” The cracks in your voice with the tremble was undeniable. “Are you still at school?” you hummed and let out a soft sob. “I’m on my way, stay there sweetheart.” You hang up and the teachers stayed with you until you got a text from Pedro, telling you where he was parked.

Your mentor walked with you with two security guards. The fact that this was necessary was heartbreaking. Pedro immediately got out of his car when he saw you. His face plagued by worry, anxiety and wanted to comfort you, keep you safe and protected. He picked up his pace, his eyes never leaving his face and you felt yourself crumble down with each step Pedro got closer to you.

Tears slipping on your cheeks when Pedro got to you and pulled you in the biggest and tightest hug. The people from school took a step back, giving you some space. You started to sob uncontrollably and your whole body was shaking. Pedro got out of the hug and placed his large hands on your cheeks. “Hey, look at me. it’s me. It’s okay, it’s okay baby girl.I got you. I got you baby girl.” He told you when he pulled you in a hug again. “I got you, you’re safe now. I got you.” You’ve never heard his voice this soft before. He was so gentle and you were so fragile at the moment.

“Let’s get you home baby girl.” He whispered, making you nod while you hid your face in his neck, smelling his cologne which made you feel a bit safer and calmed you down. Pedro took your backpack with your laptop and gear in it from you and hang it on his shoulder. His other arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to the side of his body. He said some things to your teacher, which you didn’t hear. You were very much dissociating right now. Pedro softly led you to his car, never taking his eyes off you.

He knew you were in for a ride now. Yeah you were safe now and stuff but the after effect, was what was going to be tough. You were extremely triggered in your ptsd. Pedro helped you in the car and slightly leaned over you to put the seatbelt on while you stared in front of you with, at the moment, no emotions behind your eyes. very much like a doll right now but that is dissociation huh.

Pedro was driving to his house, yet keeping a close eye on your while you silently cried. Just tears running down at this point. When you arrived at Pedro’s house, he helped you get out of the car and led you in the house, his arm still around you.

He placed your backpack on the table when you sat down on the couch, still having trouble processing this. Pedro sat down next to you and pulled you into side. One arm behind you and the other around you, caressing your head as he softly pulled your head towards his chest. You broke down at that point, just completely and franticly crying your eyes out while Pedro softly rocking you back and fort while he shushed you and whispered comforting words in your ear.

After 45 minutes, Pedro finally managed to calm you down. Your breathing started to slow down again and the crying started to get less and less. You felt exhausted. Mentally and physically. “There you go. There you go sweetheart. You’re doing so well princesa.” He cooed you. Your eyes were puffy and completely red at this point. “Let’s get you some tea. You need to hydrate.” He told you and only let go of you when you got out of the hug. Your back and sides started to hurt because it wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world so you got out of the hug. Pedro reluctantly let go of you, awaiting your next move.

Pedro cupped your cheeks and softly, gently wiped away the last remaining tears from your cheeks while giving you a soft, loving and gentle smile. You softly smiled back but you both knew it wasn’t a real one. He softly planted a kiss on your forehead and pulled you into another hug. His hand behind your neck, softly placing your head against his chest as he let out a soft sigh as he started to relax himself now, knowing that your safe. He was extremely worried and stressed about you but now that he had you in his arms, that fear became a little less.

Pedro got out of the hug and reached out his hand for you to take. You walked hand in hand towards the kitchen where he started to make some tea. “Let’s go upstairs and get you into something comfortable and wash your face right now baby girl.” Every time he called you baby girl, you felt more and more safer and calmer.

While the tea was waiting to boil, you both walked upstairs. You’ve been here many times when you would accidently fall asleep on his couch and he would bring you upstairs to lie you down in his bed while he slept on a couch in his room. When you would wake up in the middle of the night and find him there, you woke him up to just get in the bed with you. Nothing behind it, just sleep. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but he could never do that.

Anyways, you’ve been here many times by now. Pedro got some of his comforting clothes out of his closet and gave you a hoodie and joggings with some warm socks. You walked in the bathroom and looked in the mirror, only to see yourself completely broken in the mirror. It looked like you’ve been through hell. Well, you kind of did since all the flashbacks from years prior came back obviously.

You got changed and washed your face before walking back. Pedro was patiently waiting for you as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his hands. He quicky looked up at you when you exited the bathroom. He stood up, worry still visible on his face while he awaited your reaction. You walked towards him and placed your arms around him for a hug. You felt his arms around you and gently tighten around you as he lingered his lips on the top of your head.

“How about, we get some tea, get high, watch a stupid movie and order your favorite take- out, with the dessert obviously and you stay here for tonight and take a day off tomorrow hmh? You need your rest baby.” You nodded softly, only to tear up again. “That sounds really nice, I’d like that.” You could just cry about anything at this point. “Then we’ll do that. And don’t you worry about a thing okay? That’s my job.” You softly chuckled but you knew what he meant. He meant that he would take care of whatever would come your way.

You walked downstairs and looked outside, only to see a snowstorm going on right now. Pedro lit the fireplace as you sat silently on the couch. Pedro went to the kitchen to get some tea for you and to put your plushy heating pad in the microwave. You started to stare in front of you again until Pedro came back into his Livingroom. He placed the tea on the table and gave the plushy to you with a soft smile. He got a blanket from the corner of the couch and placed it around your shoulders and sat next to you.

You always had the corner of the couch at Pedro’s house and so now and then you shared it with him. Or well, he just sat next to you in the corner and you were perfectly fine with that. So this time was for obvious reasons no different. You were waiting for him to get comfortable before you did because you wanted to cuddle. Pedro held his arm out for you and you laid against his side, your head resting just above his heart with your arm around him. “You got the edibles by the way?” you asked when you remembered but already heard Pedro chuckle above you and gave you the candy.

You both took it and he got the tv remote searching for funny videos. You guys were easy since you both had the same humor so when you would find something, you shared it with him and the other way around. You both easily sent a lot of tiktoks to each other. It was your love language and Pedro figured that out pretty quick.

You rested against Pedro again and he softly cradled your head and chuckled softly at the videos being played on his tv, making you chuckle softly as well which Pedro noticed and dramatically gasped. “Are YOU laughing at this?” Sarcasm and a playful tone lingering on his words. “Are you??” you chuckled a bit more when he poked your side before chuckling himself as you squealed.

After a while the edibles started to kick in and you finally reached your relaxing point. You were at this point rolled up in the blanket. “Let’s order some food” Pedro remarked and laughed a little when he saw you. “My little sad burrito.”  He told you with sympathy yet playfully. You giggled slightly and Pedro held his phone in front of you so you could choose what to eat. You chose on sushi and Pedro ordered a whole bunch of stuff and obviously, desserts.

The two of you were more slouched down into the couch and Pedro more to your side at this point, cuddling up together. You both almost fell asleep until the doorbell rang. Pedro jumped up. “Fuck, I forgot.” He mumbled more to himself while he struggled to get up, making you chuckle slightly.

Pedro got back inside with three full bags full of food. The smell hit your nose and your tummy started growling, making Pedro chuckle softly. You got out of your cocoon and helped him placing the food on the small table in front of the couch. When everything was set, you both sat down on the carpet on the floor. “Thank you Pedge..  for everything.” You told him and Pedro stopped eating for a sec and looked at you. “Baby girl, it’s no problem at all, you know that right? I’m here for you, you don’t have to do it alone anymore.” He told you and softly placed his hand on the back of your head and softly pulled your head towards him so he could kiss the top of your head. You smiled softly and Pedro knew that this too, was a part of your love language.

After dinner and some desserts, you were completely content. You and Pedro cleaned the table and placed the left overs in the fridge before plopping back down on the couch. At this point the edibles reached a point where you both would laugh at everything. Or at least, you both had that effect on each other and it almost started a war from who can make the other laugh the most. So that happened on set and interviews, red carpets etc.

Pedro got your plushy again and placed it in his microwave and gave it back to you when it was warm enough. You started watching some compilation of tiktok videos on his tv and both couldn’t stop laughing. Laughing even harder at the next video so at a point you both were in tears from laughing so much. You wiped away your tears and looked at Pedro who laid stretched out on the couch, his head against your shoulder as he tried to stop laughing but failing miserably and making you laugh because of him.

It was dark outside, the whole street covered by the snow, only for more to come as the storm picked up. For some reason you always felt comforted and safe when it snowed. It made you feel like you were in a tiny snow globe where nothing could hurt you so imagine how safe, comforted and protected you felt now.

All of a sudden you just felt like giving Pedro a hug so you did. You wrapped your arms around Pedro and held him tightly. Pedro was taken back by surprise and was scared for a moment that you felt bad again. It took him a moment to respond but when he did, he quickly placed his arms around you and held you tightly while his lips rested on your head. “You okay baby girl?” he asked gentle, making you nod. “Yeah… because of you. Thank you. I know I said it before but I mean it. thank you.” He knew what you meant. You loved him and this was your way of saying so. “You’re more than welcome. You’re my baby girl, don’t forget that.” His voice still soft and kissed the top of your head multiple times.

When you got out of the hug, but still kept physical contact by laying on his chest again. At this point you both laid down completely. “Not to ruin this moment, but my back is killing me.” you chuckled at the way he said it. “Yeah, yeah you laugh about that. Come knocking at my door when you get my age, then we’ll talk” He said playfully. “Want to watch a movie in bed old man?” you chuckled, playfully teasing him as a dramatic gasp left his lips. “Did you just called me an old man? I’m offended!” You got up from the couch and reached out your hand to help him off the couch. “my fault. I meant middle aged man.” You chuckled. This was always a part of your joking routine.

Pedro took your hand and groaned dramatically when he got up from the couch, making you laugh. “You go freshen up first, I’ll warm up your plushy.” He told you. You quickly kissed him on his cheek as a thanks and made your way upstairs. When you were done, and got a pajama from Pedro’s closet, knowing he won’t mind and laid down in bed, scrolling a bit through your phone. You heard Pedro walking up the stairs and into the room. He handed you your plushy and you held it against your abdomen and thanked him before he disappeared into the bathroom which didn’t take him long.

He crawled in next to you and handed you the tv remote to look for a movie. You chose out your comfort movie and cuddled up in Pedro’s arms. Pedro knew you were exhausted and would fall asleep in no time, which he wasn’t wrong about. You were desperately fighting to stay awake, nodding off and then quickly opening your eyes again. Pedro saw you fight and he softly chuckled. “It’s okay baby girl. Get some sleep, you’re safe now. I’ll be right here and won’t go anywhere.” You mumbled a bit at the cooing before closing your eyes and feeling the safety in Pedro’s arms. You were glad you had Pedro who looked out for you and would cross the world for you if he had to. There was no doubt about that and he would make sure that you won’t forget that.  

[symphonic-scream]

There's an au I never posted about here, j don't think. But I wanna talk about it I guess?

A little bit at least

Persona 5 but Later

It's, like. The main plots for everyone's characters are the "same" but later. Like, they're about 19-22.

I have my notes for them all but on hand I just wanted to talk about (predictably) Makoto and Haru

Makoto, she's a cop. Beaten down by the system, looks tired at all times. The others enter her life and she tries to take them down, and Joker, reminds her of her old dreams. Her wishes to be just and do right, and after getting her Persona, she quits. Drops all contact with her sister, and moves into a little shitbox apartment with her savings, getting a job through Ryuji at this garage

Now, Haru's 21, married. To that asshole Sugimura, and has given him a son. But, their second is a daughter, and Haru is terrified of what life her daughter will have. Her father is long gone by now, and instead of his palace, it's Sugimura's. She gets her divorce, and ends up staying with Makoto, in that little shitbox, with her 4 year old son, and newborn daughter

And this is the part I want to talk about cause surprise! Scream made it gay

Haru moves in, exhausted, and Makoto turns her "study" into a room for little Tenji Okumura, gets a bassinet for little Hanako put in the master, and offers her bedroom up for Haru. Makoto, always overly self-sacrificing, plans to sleep on the couch

They share the bed. Makoto clears all the alcohol out of the apartment. She's been drinking less since quitting, but this is a big motivator for her. And to quit smoking. She's got so many bad habits, and she's breaking them little by little, but these kids, who aren't even hers, she just- she can't let herself do anything to bring them harm

And Haru and Makoto, they kiss once, just after the palace. Makoto makes it very clear she's not well enough to be a good partner for Haru, and she deserves better. Haru, she doesn't want that right now. She simply, was reacting to feelings, and they talk, and continue sharing a bed and living together, and raising Haru's kids, but they're not together together

In weak moments they'll slip and kiss, but. They're both not emotionally ready for anything, and both respect that. They grow closer as friends, grow to understand each other better than themselves

They would only get together in this AU's "strikers", a year and a half after the plot. They'd both be settled into their new jobs and Makoto would be 100% done with smoking and drinking, and Haru's divorce is finalized, and they've just moved into a new apartment where there's enough rooms for them to not share,

And yet,

They have a queen bed. With a quilt they found together at a second hand store, shopping for things for Tenji and Hanako's rooms. They've always been physically affectionate, though platonic, but slowly, it grows. Warmer, more tender, with whispered hints of silent feelings. They both know, but are too afraid to risk losing it all, after they've just gotten their "happy ending"

Sojiro watches the kids for them, and Haru swoons as Makoto calls him nightly to check on them, and say goodnight. Haru remembers her ex, and how he wouldn't even hold his son, the child he wanted. And here's this selfless woman, who cares so much for them, and, for her

It all comes to a head after that jail with the political lady. And, not much changes. They're still great friends, just. Makoto presses kisses to Haru's cheeks and hairline as she brings her their morning coffees. Haru gets to put every emotion into her "I love you"s, and

She cries when she calls to tell Tenji and Hanako, and Tenji, all confused, mentions that he thought Makoto was his other momma the whole time

They're not completely healed from their mistakes and their youth. Maybe Makoto will wake up some nights screaming and thrashing, remembering the horrible things she's done, years later. Maybe Haru will dissociate in the kitchen, barely blinking out of it as her son tugs at her pant leg, concerned

But, they have the others, and each other. And, that's a whole lot better than where they were before

(someone please please be interested in this PLEASE I HAVE SO MANY JOTES JUST ASK AND ILL SPOUT MORE)

[blacklegsanjiii]

gosh im such a huge fan of your warlord!sanji au esp all the wonderful angst recently <3 is there anything you have to share abt these executions, failed or successful? the pain is delicious >:)

i adore all of ur work so very much ^^ thank u!!

I'm glad you're enjoying everything so far! There is more in the works, for many people to parent Sanji.

Like, they've probably talked about this very frankly growing up with Sanji. He's already guilty by association so becoming a pirate is the worst thing he could have done and then his parents turned against the government or got sent to Impel Down by him and his crew? Sanji would be the first thought of execution by the government, with how interwoven the cook is into piracy and some of the top pirates in the world.

As for the executions? I had a thought, since the warlords and Luffy saved Ace(they still have scars, just no death) I thought about Sanji's execution where they do make it but Sanji's smiling at them, all of them, blood dribbling out of his mouth as he collapses lifeless on the platform. Or Someone gets him out and Sanji can feel the heat from Akainu's lava fast approaching and turns just in time to lose his hands and maybe his life, blinking at the admiral as people scream.

Maybe they get the whole family up there? Jinbei and Sanji went missing and all of a sudden there's a news article about Sanji, Jinbei, and the others' execution. All lined up and put to death with seastone bullets, or injured heavily. But either way no one ever really recovers from it. Mihawk who was supposed to die by Zoro's blades. Boa who was supposed to die of old age because almost everyone fell in love with her. Jinbei watching everything he's worked for backslide. Doffy who thought he would die by his kid's hands or Law's. Crocodile who was supposed to amass so much wealth he and the others could retire without worry. Sanji who was supposed to find the All Blue and open a restaurant.

Imagine if everyone was there? The White Beard fleet, Luffy and his volunteer fleet, Shanks and his crew, Perona, Law and his crew? Just everyone trying to get to the execution platform and save them. Sanji gives Luffy his biggest smile and thanks him, asks him to find the All Blue for him, and then just slumps forward after a bullet exits the front of his skull. His parents follow one by one as Luffy screams as he loses his cook and his helmsman. Loses his friends and family.

As a sanlu truther through and through Luffy watches the love of his life die and after whatever war happens, as they all leave to recuperate. Luffy is shattered and nothing is helping. Shanks, Ace, maybe Sabo is there but nothing is working until Zoro grabs Luffy and asks him if this is what the cook would want. They have to fulfill his dream too now and Zoro will make sure they do if Luffy can't. Luffy nods and wipes his face. Perona says she'll help, Sanji was her baby brother after all. Then everyone realizes they watched the cook and his family die one by one.

Or maybe they save one warlord. Doflamingo goes on a crazed rampage because of his child and then just shuts down after they leave, just a complete dissociative state. Boa who sobs as she takes out marine after marine and can't stop. Crocodile who doesn't shed a tear and kills quickly, not in a rampage but methodically and pats Perona as she looks at him with tears. Jinbei gets everyone out quickly and safely, he watches the waves in silence. Mihawk who kills efficiently and with no mercy and then Shanks asks why he's crying because he hasn't seen Mihawk in years and didn't know. Mihawk blinks and touches his face to feel the wetness.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for moving out right before my disabled grandparents get surgeries? (TWs for transphobia, child abuse, child neglect, religious trauma, the whole works)

Alright so I (19 NB, turning 20 in January) am trying to find a place to move out of state because my grandparents (who I currently live with) and dad don’t treat me (or my 18 year old brother) the best. I don’t feel like I have a lot of freedom to do what I want, because my grandparents (76 M and 74 F) are constantly asking me to do things they can do just fine on their own and they threaten me if I don’t comply. I was also raised to never question authority which includes them, so they act like me questioning their authority or opinions is me getting into fights with them. My dad (46 M) just enables them, telling me to behave and listen to them like I’m still a kid.

In addition to all this, they’re all transphobic. As mentioned before, I’m non-binary. My dad and grandma aren’t as bad and seem to be complying with my grandpa’s views, but my grandpa is HORRIFIC. I tried to explain my identity to him once and he straight up told me he didn’t care and didn’t want an explanation.

Outside of this, my grandparents are also Mormon, which has led me to end up with some religious trauma. They blame every one of their views on their religion, and are constantly telling me I’m never gonna be happy if I don’t start going to church again (something I haven’t done since I was 13 or 14).

My dad also told me he hopes I like my “newer brother” and how he’s changed because my brother is currently training to be a medic in the US military, and just finished his basic training. Aside from this being extremely off putting to me, this isn’t the first time my dad has sorta acted like I’m his golden child.

It’s worth noting that with how I’ve been treated my entire life, I’ve picked up people pleasing tendencies and can’t even say no. If I don’t want to do something I procrastinate until someone else does it then lie and claim I was going to do it.

Now all of this might have you like “NO YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY NOT THE ASSHOLE” but here’s where I’m questioning that.

Both of my grandparents are disabled. My grandma had a stroke back in 2010 that still affects her to this day and as a result of it her balance is messed up so she has a hard time doing things on her own. My grandpa is having a knee surgery to help alleviate his disability (although a lot of his behavior is absolutely 100% just laziness). It’s making me feel bad for even considering leaving, but I’m so sick of being treated how I am. I feel like I can’t learn to say no until I’m cut off from my family. I don’t even remember most of my childhood and have a dissociative disorder, and I’m pretty sure those are linked (not remembering most of my childhood and having a dissociative disorder).

But I just. I genuinely can’t shake the feeling that I’m an asshole for moving out right before my grandparents get surgeries. So. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[thatonebirdwrites]

Some behind the scenes thoughts about the narrative structure and names in my story, Shattered:

To use eventually in my story, Shattered, I drew Rory -- Lena's 7 year-old child alter, who speaks only in sign language. I made this decision partly due to my own experiences, but also because in the show Lena has a lot of neurodiverse traits.

Rory is a pretty common Irish name, and Katie has said in an interview that is her younger brother's name (it's also listed as her brother's name in every article I could find about her family). The traditional way of spelling would be with an 'i' instead of a 'y,' but based on the research I did, it seems Katie uses the 'y' spelling. It's the angelized form of the name Ruaidhrí, which means "red king" in Old Irish. Her other alters all have Irish names or descriptive terms (at least until the Alter reveals their name). I did this on purpose because I love Irish names, and I'm very much pro-Irish!Lena.

For example, Kieran, the protective alter and the one that revealed herself to Lena in journal entries so Lena wouldn't feel alone or scared, is Lena Luthor's canon middle name. This is an angelized form of Ciarán, which in turn is derived from the Irish Gaelic word for 'black.' In Irish legend, Ciar was a son of Fergus mac Róich and Medb; he became the ancestor of the tribe of the Ciarraige (after whom County Kerry is named). Seán is Katie's older brother's name, and that one is a variant of John. To go back further, John is derived from Old Hebrew words such as Chanan which means 'to be gracious, to have mercy, to show favor.' Whether this name is used in my fic is for readers to find out. ;) Some other names I may utilize:

Lorcán which derives from Old Irish word lorcc for fierce.

Líadan, which derives from Old Irish for 'grey.' (Legends tell of a poet who missed her lover Cuirithir so much she died of grief.)

Neasa or Níassa, which derives from Old Irish for 'uncertain' or 'not-gentle'. (Legend has it, she was the mother of Conchobhar, and she tricks her second husband into giving up his kingdom to her son to rule temporarily for a year. She then helped him rule so astutely that the people demanded he be their permanent ruler.)

I debated on using too many 'L' names mostly because Lena in my tale -- due to her trauma -- has chosen to pit herself opposite of the Luthor family. So choosing "L" names would play too much into going with them instead of against. Part of her development is building herself up so that her actions become less about being opposite, and more about doing the right thing because it's the right thing to do.

Naming alters can be helpful to identify who fronts, but also to build up trust and safety with them. Alters will often have a name for themselves, which should be honored if so.

I'll likely draw all the alters at some point. The one above is based off a photo of Katie sitting like this by a Christmas tree.

I wrote Lena with DID because of how she slips in and out of personas to fit specific situations and her goals in that situation.

She has tremendous trauma, tends to compartmentalize into boxes, and so her having dissociation of some sort seemed highly probable especially based on some of her behaviors in the show.

She shows her trauma right from the beginning with specific things she says that reveal just how wounded she is by her past and the Luthor family. I extrapolated from that.

This is a very personal fic that touches upon things I experience as well, and I wanted to write a fic that is a positive representation for DID. I poured my soul into this fic. After a lot of soul-searching, unleashed it onto AO3 because if it helped me to write it, maybe it'll help others to read it.

The fic as a whole is written in draft form, but I edit and rewrite sections so it all flows well before I post the chapter.

I play with the narrative a lot in this fic.

The narrative is made of three POVs: 1. Lena and her alters, 2. Kara (and her other selves), 3. Sam.

I weave each POV with the present day conflict and a "Tale" that is a look into their backstory and how that ripples forward into the present. I admit, I hyper-focus on details for not only immersion sake, but also to lay out clues. Sometimes I'll play with how I lay out a chapter to emphasize a theme.

For example, in chapter seven, take a look at the last two sentences of the POV, and note how words for that sentence will appear at the starting sentence of the following POV. I'm using a ghazal-like tactic common to Arabic poetry to weave threads of a tale; I did this because I wanted to juxtaposition Sam's experience with Reign with Lena and her alters.

So there's details like that hidden in this narrative. The poetic language I draw upon for some segments is endemic of how I portray mind-stuff in all my writings (see my excerpt of my original fiction here for an example). I like how poetic language gives a scene a more surreal feel, which can be helpful for digging into trauma in a less triggering way.

Anyway, the narrative structure I use for this tale is a bit of an experiment, I admit.

One might even say it's a superhero/trauma version of Chancer's Canterbury tales, if the storytellers were just three people on a journey of healing together.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the behind the scenes peek.

[misscammiedawn]

Hi, I hope this is okay to ask. There seems to be so much misinformation and I am kind of… profoundly confused. Can someone have headmates and/or be a system without having DID? Are they the same or do these all mean different things?

Hello, anon.

DID is just a diagnosis based on clinical observation. It's not observable in any scans and will not show a stripe on a saliva test. It just means that a doctor who is qualified to do so has given you a diagnostic screening and believes that it is your diagnosis.

It's also a remarkably weird one as it's simultaneously a lifelong affliction born in childhood which never goes away, but the diagnostic criteria for it is no longer satisfied when treatment has reached a point of which the symptoms are managed.

I truly wish there were better advice for you than to explore what you need to explore in your own life and assess your access to mental health care and whether or not you feel it would benefit you. When we received our diagnosis it was in association with our ongoing care for emotional breakdowns that were crippling us and erratic life destroying issues with maintaining relationships and a stable sense of personal identity.

The question should be less "do I need DID to have a system" and more "do I benefit from being diagnosed and treated?" and I can't answer that for you. The best I am able to speak on this question is to say not to think about it. It's an unimportant question in the grand scheme of things.

My personal experience with dissociative disorders is that my condition was hidden from me for much of my life and diagnosed and treated as CPTSD for most of my life, BPD after my transition and finally recognized and treated as DID in recent years. I think coming out as transgender and realizing that persistent feeling of "I feel like I am playing the role of [legal name]" did not go away was a good signal. We had a reason to feel like that prior to transition. We did not afterwards.

My personal belief on the formation of my condition is that in early childhood our environment was not safe and stable and we were unable to create a stable personality based on applied patterns that a child between the ages of 0-6 use to achieve their needs (attention, nourishment, protection etc) and so with no stable "core" personality state we developed a number of personality states that we shifted through to meet our general survival needs based on environment and those in turn became the foundation for a system of "parts" who make up the whole of me.

What I described there is an understanding that was reached in therapy based on The Theory of Structural Dissociation, itself a controversial piece of text (one of the authors disbarred for mistreatment of patients).

That all in to say I can only speak to my personal experience and my personal understanding of DID, which is based on our evolving understanding of the topic both as a system ourselves, as students of the medical dogma being released and as a patient of our current therapist.

These views, opinions and perspectives may and can change on a dime. There are a disturbing number of clinicians who do not believe chronic dissociative disorders lead to plurality in any regard. There are those in support communities who believe the number of people who are undiagnosed but experience plurality is as high as 15% of the global population.

Frankly. I'm not qualified to speak to anyone's experience beyond my own. All I can do is put out what we see and hear and feel and hope that it provides comfort for anyone out there who is as lost to themselves as we were to ourselves.

So can a person experience plurality without it being DID? Does every person who experiences plurality without trauma actually have a repressed and unacknowledged backstory?

It's none of my damned business.

Every person has their own story and their own baggage, much of which lays beneath the surface. We cannot fully know the depths of The Other and that is a scary thing because it means that someone could look at a person's lived truth and reject it...

And so the answer is simply "I do not know."

I can't possibly know.

I just care about people and believe them when they say things.

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 6

[Part 5]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader. This work is officially given the Sparky verse name for requests sake

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older, dissociation, abduction, drugging, Stockholm syndrome.

Focuses on Alfred

---------

You lost track of time since you came into the care of the batfam. It was...nice. At first it had been stressful, the constant fear of the hit on you had worn on you greatly. But the whole group of vigilantes' support and care had helped. Sure you felt mentally fuzzy a lot, and there were times you were too woozy to do anything; but it didn't matter because they had been there for you. They never judged, they never made demands, they never asked for anything. How could you not get attached?

It'd been so nice not having to worry about bills and rogue attacks...

Eventually it came time the family had decided to let you in on the truth. It had been a shock for you, who knew those fringe conspiracy groups had been right about who Batman was. They welcomed you to the family telling you that it was time you went to your new room above ground. You hesitated, the cave had been your safety when they weren't there. Could it be safe up there too?

Eventually you got brave after they promised you'd be safe. You clutched robi- Damien's hand tightly, your legs shaky like a new born deer as anxiety pools in you. Only for nothing to happen once you reached the top of the stairs. There was no threat, just like they promised! And it was daytime! You couldn't remember the last time you'd *seen* the sun.

Alfred watched you practically drag Damian to the window to look up at the sky from behind the glass. At first he'd been against this whole thing, veiwing you as a victim; yet doing nothing because it made *his* family happy. He spent time with you in the cave while the others were out. His own domino mask and agent A moniker covering who he was. And after a while he got attached too.

He saw the draw you had the more time he spent with you. Even when you were drugged you had a sharp wit and yet you only used that blade on yourself. Why did so many of his family do self-deprecating jokes? Regardless, you were one of *his* now.

He greeted you with a drink and your favorite cookies with a smile and a, "Welcome home young miss." He didn't miss the way you lit up seeing him, he was pleased to see you had gotten attached to him along with the family.

He still took care of everything for you only now you got to come out of your shell finally. To watch you go from a fearful soul that required sedatives to stop from clawing at yourself into the happy and caring person under his care was euphoric. He'd been even more pleased when his youngest grandchild had vehemently been against joining the family's nighttime work.

All of the family had been and Dick who had asked if you ever thought of it had been scolded by Alfred for even putting those ideas in your head. He was not sending another grandchild to fight on the streets. It was hard enough with everyone else.

Everyone bickered over your time and attention, but Alfred being home almost always was proud to say he spent the most time with you. You cooked together...though he watched you closely and never let you near the fire or knives. You had started watching one of his shows with him. You both even had some inside jokes and he felt joy at having someone normal in the family.

That being said, he just like everyone else would not let you leave. He was ready and prepared at all times to subdue you should you find some moment of distrust or flight response. There was no escape, and even if you did manage to escape you'd best hope one of the Bat boys brought you home, because Alfred was far scarier when angry.

[ahbeduo]

REALLY?! U WANNA KNOW SUBJECT 2 HCS FROM LIL OLD ME?! HEHEHE I THOUGHT YOUD NEVER ASK!!!

I like to think his name is Dorian :3 leakers were digging in the files a while back and found out that the texture for his model is called “Dorian” so that’s where it came from. Dorian is Greek for “gift”, but also comes from the name Doerain, which means “wanderer” or “exile” which I think is sad but fitting LMAO. (Dorian is also in reference to Oscar Wilde’s novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. If ur interested u should look into it, bc I’d butcher the summary lol)

I like to think that bros a more feral version of Albedo. Albedo is domesticated, Dorian is not HFHDH. He’s much easier to anger, but he wouldn’t put up a fight unless provoked or attacked first.

The reason…he was never trained in any kind of sword fighting style. He can swing a sword around but there’s a 1/99 chance that it would actually hurt someone.

I gave him a Cryo vision bc I mean. Just look at him. That pathetic little mess of a guy is the archetype for Cryo. I like to think he’s a catalyst user (and his best weapon is “Frostbearer” and he relies on it more than his sword hehe. Playstyle wise I’d make him scale off of ATK to contrast Albedo’s DEF scaling)

For his relationships, he prefers Klee’s more upbeat and bouncy nature. She doesn’t seem to mind that he’s not Albedo, and treats him like a brother regardless. He’d take her fishblasting any day <3

Albedo…he’s wary around. Even if they were to make up and all that, his vibe around would probably be very much the feeling you get when you go over to a friend’s house and you feel like you have to impress their parents in order to be allowed in. Does that make sense?? Basically he’s walking on eggshells even if Albedo tells him he’s fine LMAO

While he’s made his appearance a bit different from Albedo (red/maroon/black color scheme, hair either down on his shoulders or in a low and messy braid, and a little thinner than Albedo due to Albedo having built up muscle from sword-wielding), sometimes he switches back to Albedo’s form to mess with people. Specifically the Traveler. He’s a little prankster!!

Even tho he’s used to the cold, he loves warmth. U light up a fire and Dorian will sit so close his hair will singe at the edges. He also loves spicy food <3 (when he lived in Dragonspine he ate like. Unseasoned roasted meat and snow. So he craves any kind of flavor now)

I hc him as aro-ace, and also nonbinary for some fics I write :D I mostly do that just to differentiate between Albedo and him (I write him without a name sometimes so using the “he/him” pronouns twice over without stating who’s speaking is very complicated so I use “they/them” for ease of reading) but also bc I feel like. After 500 years of sleeping in poison dragon tummy soup, one would sort of dissociate from the whole gender thing.

Hehehehehe there u go there’s some hcs 👉👈 I love my little guy he’s so sad and I LOOOOOVE the angst potential with him. Lmk what u think :D

uwahhhh those are yummy, thank you for the snacks 😋

Idk what to say there, just know that your HCs are valid! Some of them, like how rocky his relationship with Albedo is, are something i do think of too! Like yeh they cool, but that doesn't erase the fact Albedo is the favourite child. And and and the fact he likes flavours like spicy- I think he doesn't like very sweet things either

[aftgficrec]

Anonymous asked: Is there any new Nicky and or/twinyard centred fics or any Kevin wymack bonding ones?

Or wymack parenting the other foxes?

We made it to part 3! Neil getting adopted by Wymack is quite a popular AU, but Andrew’s relationship with Wymack also gets investigated a few times.  On the whole, the fandom does seem to love Dadmack. - S

NB: other posts from this ask: Nicky/twinyards centered fics here; Kevin & Wymack bonding here

You might also like some of these previous recs:

Wymack protecting his foxes here

Neil & Wymack fics here

Andrew’s trust in Wymack here

Wymack & Andreil here

‘100% Loved’ here

‘Even Angels fear the Fall’ here

‘thoughts about Andrew and Wymack’s relationship?’ here

‘andrew minyard’s gossip sessions with david wymack’ here

AUs where Wymack adopts Neil:

‘We Used To Be Friends’ here (completed)

‘quicksand’ here

‘Raised on Little Light’ here (completed)

Wymack & Neil:

You're Ours Now by Nicodeimus_2006fox [Rated M, 1082 words, complete, 2024]

The Foxes loose a game Neil thinks it's his fault So he spirals. Wymack's not taking any of it.

tw: panic attacks

slow down (you crazy child) by Major_816 [Rated T, 21152 words, complete, 2024]

A set of thirteen, composed in the first year. Or; the Butcher killed his wife and tried to burn his son with her, this is what happens after he's pulled from the fire. ~ Ms. Gina turns the car around a corner, putting on the blinker and leaning to both sides to look around her seat first. “I know these past few days have been pretty scary for you.” Ms. Gina says a lot, he thinks. And most of the time she doesn’t really make sure that it’s all true.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: anxiety

Make a Home by sof_unie [Rated T, 13351 words, incomplete, last updated July 2024]

”As he traveled along the coastline, he continued driving until the distant glow of the small town faded from view. Without casting another glance at his mother, he parked the car and left the keys inside. Getting the gasoline and lighter that his mother had left for him, he doused the car with fuel before taking a final deep breath. He ignited the lighter and threw it into the car."

or Neil is found by Wymack when he is still a kid, Wymack takes him in and introduces him to the family

tw: implied/referenced overdose, tw: canonical character death, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: ptsd, tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: violence

make me a promise, tell me you'll stay with me (if I'm bein' honest, I don't know where this leads) by kal25 [Rated T, 3095 words, complete, 2024]

Neil should have been more careful. He should have understood that just because he was Neil Josten and not Nathaniel didn’t mean that everyone had forgotten who his father was. He was reminded every day of history he’d much rather forget when he looked in the mirror. He was learning not to hate his eyes, but it had become clear that not everyone shared that sentiment. Someone—Neil wasn’t sure who, and frankly, it didn’t matter—retaliated for the death of his father. In a way, Neil supposed his father's death was his own fault. It was supposed to be an evening run, a few miles just to clear his head. He’d been having nightmares, and he decided that this was the healthiest way to process all the information his brain was feeding him. He didn’t expect the evening to turn red with his own blood. It did, though, and Neil emerged with another bullet wound, a few more scars, but most importantly, no more death on his hands. He ended up at Wymack's door, banging on it with the hand that wasn't busy stopping blood from exiting his shoulder. "Coach?

tw: gun violence, tw: blood, tw: injuries

The Devil We Know And The Devil We Don’t by neilsversion [Rated T, 2869 words, complete, 2023]

the final chapter of trk from wymack’s pov (inspired by bisexualchaosdemon’s post on tumblr)

tw: injuries

Wymack & the twins:

Take This Lonely Heart by simonsrosebud [Rated M, 44933 words, incomplete, last updated July 2024]

Wymack grunted. “Hey, why don’t I call in takeout from Sweeties and we can eat it in the office? I have a sixteen year old boy in the back of the patrol car right now that I’m running to the station.” Andrew scoffed quietly to himself and set the phone on speaker to light his cigarette. Muffled, he said, “He better be eye candy if I’m coming to that dump.” Andrew inhaled deep and closed his eyes for a moment before blowing the smoke out through his teeth. On the other end of the phone, just as he was bringing the cigarette back for another drag, he heard Wymack say, “Hey, my son wants to know if you’re cute.” Andrew coughed up his lung at that surprise, but he didn’t miss the way that a distant voice piped up with “I want to say yes, sir.”

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nightmares, tw: ptsd, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation

Burned Out by TogeMythia [Rated M, 3217 words, complete, 2023]

It had been quite some time since Andrew’s last forced entry into his apartment, so he was curious as to what had prompted the blonde to make this unannounced visit. - Andrew shows up at Wymack's apartment a few weeks after Aaron's trial.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder

Dadmack by poly_pr1nce [Rated T, 880 words, complete, 2020, locked]

I didn't save the original prompt but it was about Wymack looking after Andrew and Andrew letting himself be vulnerable in front of the man

tw: claustrophobia, tw: implied/referenced abuse

Make my messes matter. Make this chaos count. by Side_effect_of_the_meds [Rated T, 3064 words, complete, 2020]

Ok but I’ve always wondered about the missing scene in TKM where Wymack and Andrew go to get lunch for the team after the whole Aaron-Allison-Andrew debacle. Care to ellaborate? Yes. Yes, I would. (I tried to keep it in character but the whole checkout scene is incredibly self-indulgent but I refuse to be sorry about it.)

tw: alcohol, tw: implied/referenced violence, 

Some day I'll learn to breathe again by Side_effect_of_the_meds [Rated T, 2290 words, complete, 2020]

With Wymack dead, Andrew begins to question his worth.

tw: character death, tw: terminal illness

Musings about my foxes by Side_effect_of_the_meds [Rated G, series, updated 2019]

Chapter 2: Dad

Have y'all noticed how much time Andrew spends with Coach Wymack???? 

Wymack & Andrew meta by @fortheloveofexy [tumblr, 2023]

The thing that gets me about Wymack is that he doesn't actually have to bribe Andrew into playing.

Wymack & the Foxes

All for the family by babyprincess675 [Not Rated, 3692 words, complete, 2024]

The Palmetto State Foxes have been, are, and will always be a pain in his ass. Tragic past, tragic present, tragic future. The foxes are rabid, violent charity cases some would say. David Wymack tried to coach them and stay out of their business, their troubles, and their…problems at the same time. But he is only a man. Or 5 times David Wymack didn’t mind his pay grade, and 1 time he didn’t even realize he wasn’t doing it.

tw: violence

STUD by Mercey [Rated G, 2136 words, complete, 2024]

‘It’s time to gather ‘round, Foxes,’ Allison baldly announced, ‘I have photographic evidence that Coach was hot.’ Or: the foxes find pictures of Wymack in the 80s

piece by piece, he restored my faith (that a man can be kind and a father could stay) by kal25 [Rated T, 2337 words, incomplete, last updated June 2024]

David Wymack did not raise kids, but he did raise his Foxes. Each one of them, whether they were past, present, or even future, will always have a place in his heart. He understood what it meant to be beaten by a man you called your father, to feel fear and hatred and another dozen emotions all at once. He understood what it felt like for guilt to eat you alive about things that never should have been wrong, and he understood what it meant to not have a place to call home. And he swore, when he became a coach, that he would create a home. He would build one from the ground up with his own two hands, and he would invite every single child who chased Exy like a beacon of hope and had no other place to call home—because that’s what he wished someone would have done for him.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

lucid dreams (thinking of you) by cyanidecatalyst [Rated T, 11451 words, incomplete, last updated May 2024]

the foxes as kids growing up

tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

GOODNIGHT COACH! by Kory_Rory [Rated T, 4517 words, complete, 2024]

Neil and Kevin are bored out of their minds. Somehow they were able to drag Andrew into their shit as well. The TV is boring, the whole team are on an exy ban for the entire weekend and it's 2 in the morning so none of the other foxes are awake. So what better way to spend the night but by breaking into their coaches apartment and stealing some drinks?

Wymack's punishments for the Foxes by @dvrcos [tumblr, 2024]

Wymacks always threatening to sign the Foxes up for marathons as punishment but I personally like to believe he gives them much more unconventional punishments. Ones that he just knows will annoy the Foxes.

NB: spoilers for TSC:

After Care by @justadreamfox [tumblr, 2024]

Wymack flies home from dropping Jean in L.A.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced violence

Art

what if they show up to practice in matching jorts by @ziegenkind094

David and Neil Wymack are gossiping by @moontrader-arts

"Help me,"  "Let me," by @rainbowd00dles 

neil and wymack art by @cacuilustra

Dadmack & his foxes by @yourleftpinkytoe-blog

I’m an Exy Dad art by @/eislekaj on instagram

[unwelcome-ozian]

Hello, I remember finding something about a year ago listed online as “pre-birth programming.” I assumed it had something to do with the torture of fetuses while still in the womb since this is an established tactic by advanced groups to induce dissociation, but what it actually described had something to do with regressing someone back to a fetal state of consciousness (possibly including making sure the subject remains in the fetal position?)… I’m a little fuzzy on the details. Recently, someone close to me confided in me about being instructed re: this exact tactic while still in the network as a child, and I went to find this information again to corroborate their experience, but I can’t find it anywhere and it’s driving me crazy. I am positive I’ve seen this somewhere and I’d really like to support this system—we’re very close and they are incredibly important to me.

If you have any information about this, I would really, really appreciate if you could share it. Thank you for all the work you do.

Babies in the womb feel, taste, learn, and have some level of consciousness. Attachment also begins in the womb. The earlier the trauma occurs in the womb, the more disastrous the effects. Mothers who have suffered childhood trauma can pass this memory down to an unborn baby. This is one reason TBMC seeks to be generational.

Christiane Northrup (2005) If a pregnant mother is going through high levels of fear or anxiety she creates a “metabolic cascade.” Hormones known as cytokines are produced and the mother’s immune system is affected, including her child’s. Chronic anxiety in the mother can set the stage for a whole array of trauma based results.

Early trauma is encoded in the implicit memory of the fetus. An unborn child is a feeling, remembering, and aware being, and the 9 months between conception and birth are the crucial first phase of shaping personality and emotional development.

Therefore, the presence of trauma during the critical 9 months of pregnancy can have profound impacts on the development of the fetus.

Traumas experienced in utero for example lack of sufficient oxygen is a horrifying stressor. If it continues, death is the result. Further, it leaves the fetus with insufficient resources to combat future stress, and a lack of feelings of safety. The danger remains underlying so that any later trauma can trigger it. This can lead to anxiety reactions to seemingly non-stressful situations that do not match the current situation.

Womb-life traumas can also deplete serotonin supplies as a result the child may grow up feeling continuously uncomfortable, a chronic depression and anxiety because the readjusted set points fixed during gestation were low.

​Stress is an example of how a fetus responds to stimuli in the womb and adapts physiologically. "When the mother is stressed, several biological changes occur, including elevation of stress hormones and increased likelihood of intrauterine infection," Dr. Wadhwa says. "The fetus builds itself permanently to deal with this kind of high-stress environment, and once it's born may be at greater risk for a whole bunch of stress-related pathologies." Source

Maternal (Klaus, Kennell & Klaus, 1996) bonding during pregnancy is associated with positive infant attachment, whereas unresolved, dissociated trauma, chronic affect dysregulation, and obstetric complications during pregnancy seem to alter the bonding experience often resulting in broken bonds. The Calming Womb Family Therapy Model (CWFTM) is a comprehensive, collaborative, team-based, early intervention approach which is intended for treating mothers and their babies from conception through the first year after birth.

Source

There is growing evidence that even milder forms of maternal stress or anxiety during pregnancy affect the fetus causing possible long-term consequences for infant and child development. The mechanisms through which prenatal maternal stress may affect the unborn are not yet entirely clarified. Due to limited self-regulatory skills after birth, infants depend on sensitive behavior of their parents to regulate affective states and physiological arousal.

Source

You're most welcome. Take care, Oz