#trying to process years of neglect and abuse in the

[cosmicknives]

As much as I dislike Fallout 3, I do have an intense love for my Lone Wanderer. Poor child is just dissassioating across the Capitol Wasteland with their baby deathclaw, trying to find the meaning of life in the stars above.

[acid-ixx]

How do think readers relationship with each of the batfam would be had they not been neglected?

what if...? ft. domestic headcanons w/ your family

series masterlist &. request masterlist — long post ahead !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 6400+ words, no beta i'm genuinely insane. help i literally thought abt this yesterday !! i may or may not post a drabble about this one specific dream the reader had about where they had a normal relationship with the batfam but at the same time i want to implement it in the next chapter instead so have food for thoughts instead! slight spoilers below. also please do comment and reblog if u like this ! ^^ supporting my writing just makes me further motivated to write even more !

if you were never neglected by your own family, then i could say that the process of them turning yandere would be a tad bit better or worse. i'm saying, because of your past and because of an incident during your elementary years (that could've been avoided if your family actually never ignored you; so let's assume that that incident actually never happened but it opened a gateway for an even more protective family) the batfam could easily be either a dream or nightmare.

let's say it was bruce and dick who had picked you up from the police station. the moment he sees his own firstborn child, all his thoughts would circulate from just how broken and hopeless you absolutely looked, how the injuries litter throughout your entire body, the way your empty eyes stare at anything.

the child, his child, looked exactly like him all those years ago. he knows just how painful it is to bare losing all your loved ones.

he wouldn't hesitate to approach your form, immediately picking you up and letting your head lean on his shoulders as dick follows in tow, cooing about his significantly younger sibling.

that would be the first time dick would call you his baby bird, with the way you'd stare at him with mixed emotions in your eyes.

if him and dick were to hear about what happened to you inside your old apartment from the police (drugged and abused by the same men who took your mother away from you), then be guaranteed that batman and nightwing would be more brutal during their patrol afterwards (dick would even take more weeks off from bludhaven just to care for his younger sibling), even going as far as formulating a plan for your captors, having oracle stalk each and every person involved in your life.

if anyone thinks the vigilante would abide by his no-kill rule then they're wrong, because he'd turn a blind eye for once if dick were to brutally stab someone at any moment. why? because batman will not settle until his own child's attackers are thrown into putrid prison cells with no guarantee that they'll see the light of the day. the criminals should be grateful that red hood isn't even in the picture yet.

your father would be more perceptive of your emotions if he had never neglected you. he will always be the one giving you rides, he'll shield you away from the mass media trying to take photographs of you— and you're getting carried throughout the manor if your little body were to even express fatigue.

bruce wayne wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely cherishes you and your youth. he had adopted dick and grayson when they were above the age of ten, when they were already growing some sort of consciousness about the world they live in. but you? you're so small and you have so much to learn, your innocence is something bruce would protect. you'll be absolutely coddled by your father, your grandfather figure, alfred, and your oldest brother, dick. even future members of the family knows just how important you are maintaining their sanity.

that means you have the manor in the palm of your hands. you had a nightmare tonight? don't worry, your dad would always be one step ahead of you and would immediately be in your room. hell, if you were comfortable enough, you'd be sleeping in the same bedroom as your dad for the first few years you'll live inside the manor. he'll read you bedtime stories if you want and even have alfred prepare you warm milk or chocolate before you go to sleep. his entire schedule would also be centered around you, making sure that he would always arrive on time from business meetings to have dinner with you, and coming home early from patrols. if he leaves the manor before you're set off to sleep, then he'll be giving you a good night's kiss whilst alfred would be the one substituting for your nightly bedtime stories.

you may call him overbearing once you start to notice the signs the more you grow older, but your father will always track your sleep schedule - he even makes you wear a watch that records your heart rate - from the moment you drift into dreamland to the times you get nightmares— he makes sure the food you eat before dinner is light, booking appointments with nutritionists to make sure you're healthy. he even does specialized training with you, for self defence and to also maintain a healthy lifestyle.

and dick grayson? his visits to gotham would be more frequent. even if his relationship with bruce is strained, he'll always be in the manor faster than you could say 'i miss you' to your older brother on the phone. he loves coddling his baby bird, especially since you were adopted right after jason's death; dick doesn't want a repeat of the past, always making sure you get proper cuddles and affirmations.

spending time with dick means you get all the power to draw on his arms or face or make arts and crafts with him. he enjoys it when his baby bird is at their comfiest state so even if you were seated on the floor, there would always be cozy blankets that count as your chairs and snacks right beside you. you could ask him to get something for you and he's right at it.

he would be the older brother who normalizes physical affection in the household. dick would constantly kiss your cheeks, your foreheads, and any injuries you would obtain (a habit that even bruce adopted once your dad realized how it's an effective way to soften your cries and ease your heart). he's not afraid of picking you up even! always tossing you to the air under alfred or bruce's supervision whenever you feel down. dick would always hold your hand, too, as an assurance that your beloved older brother is always there for you.

you'd probably ignore all the red flags he carries around because of how early he shows off his signs of obsessiveness. so don't question it if him and bruce wouldn't allow you to go to sleepovers with your other friends or if sometimes, just sometimes dick feels the need to just have you in his arms for hours without end after particularly brutal patrols. you're the only person holding him up and if he doesn't breath in that reminder then he might just lose himself.

your brother would literally prioritize you over anything else. he can and will pick you up from school, he makes sure nobody in your class is there to bully you, he'll spoil you with sweet treats whenever bruce is too busy with business meetings. he wants to be seen as your favorite ever since he's discovered himself to be your idol, so he'll always show off his acrobatic skills for your eyes only.

whenever dick would say "i love you!" it always translates to, "if you want me to, then i will give you the world." which means he'll drop anything he's doing right now the moment you invite him over to design your diaries or sketchbooks.

your talents very early on would be heavily acknowledged by your family. that means any single drawing or craft you'd do, whether poorly done or not, would be stored in very protective places or shows off in every crevice of the manor. any father's day gift from you would be framed in bruce's personal office, a personal reminder to him that you are the light at the end of the brooding tunnel he puts himself in. so even if he can't always be there for you, he will always have you in his mind and in his heart.

your existence in the manor would prove to be a healthier way for bruce to cope, for him to get his mind off of the loss of his second child. whenever he looks at you, he'll always be filled with a determination to protect gotham from any further danger, to save the city - if not himself, then for your sake, for his baby to feel safe whenever they would walk on the streets, for his baby to feel protected whenever you two would eat in fancy restaurants or go shopping for your diary's supplies.

criminals would immediately get the message that messing with you means getting on the bad side of both batman and nightwing. you may be the child of bruce wayne, (name) wayne, but if they even think of kidnapping you for ransom then they should pray; pray because if batman's baby even gets a single nick, a single droplet of blood on their body then they're gone. there's no such thing as holding back if it comes to you.

now, your older sister figure, barbara gordon, despite her constantly being busy because of her role as the oracle, would find ways to at least entertain you whenever you would visit her in the batcave. if you feel like your father's overprotective nature and your older brother's coddling is too much, then she will be offer you solace by her side. she may not always be physically there but you two are as close as you are to the other members of your family because you're a creative one. it's not often barbara gets to spend time with someone like you who enjoys having her as a muse for your art pieces. she allows you to also style her hair, and if you like to design clothing, then she'd be your model for as much as you want.

barbara is also your go-to for when dick and bruce are both unavailable. she lets you watch her hack through multiple security systems, explaining concepts that you don't understand. and, because she's the most emotionally stable out of all of them, you'd prefer gossiping to her about your school's drama compared to dick, as she actually gives you helpful advice!

well, little do you know that she had already hacked your school's camera footage and wired multiple recorders on your bag but you don't have to know that! after all, barbara wants to keep the only sane person in the household safe and happy. she's not openly obsessive towards you, but whatever secrets you have that don't compromise your safety are secrets she promises she will bring to the grave. that means if you ever have a crush on a someone then she will hide it from the others.

... that is until you actually end up trying to get into a relationship too early for even her eyes then she won't hesitate sending out the signals to bruce and the others. she can't afford exposing her younger sibling to heartbreaks and emotional attachment towards strangers! so do forgive her if there are times where you feel like there's someone constantly watching your back, because she is that someone; with all the intentions in the world that you wouldn't have to go through what she did with the joker or any other villains who could whisk you away from their arms.

it's obvious that, of course the oracle will use all the power in her hands to guarantee all eyes are on you, so that there would never be an opening for any danger towards you. even if you do know that she's the one in-control of the strings, there's not much you could do but accept it.

then there's tim drake. your brother who had stalked batman and nightwing just to prove a point. his parents are alive and he's fine being on his own, but fuck it if he prefers being in the wayne manor! once you're introduced to tim, he's immediately researching about the first biological child of bruce wayne. and thank god bruce requires the two of you to become familiar with each other because you're just so interesting to him, you and your curious eyes, your small habits— the way you shift in your position as your father's hands are clasped on your shoulder protectively.

tim can already feel himself blast off in excitement just solving the mysteries about you! yet he doesn't know it in himself that the longer you spend time with him, the more the urge to just stitch himself into your very life grows stronger.

if you were never neglected by your own family then you would instead be analyzed constantly. tim is just another set of eyes constantly watching you, but unlike the others, he picks off every single detail about you to a T.

you, your interests, your hobbies, your favorites, your friends, you name it; he will have an entire collection of case files on everything, picking apart your very mind to the seams. it's like he's eating up the information about you, spending sleepless nights researching about a movie you two would watch soon, because the look of amazement in your eyes feeds the growing love he has for his sibling.

at first he'd never understand why bruce and dick seems so smitten towards you other than the case regarding your mother. but he slowly starts to understand why— because just like him, you're perceptive of his well-being. if dick isn't around then you're always the one hanging around his room, visiting him with snacks in your arms or an invitation to watch a cartoon show.

he likes doing your assignments for you, especially your projects even if he neglects his own duties for his own school. and despite how emotionally constipated or unaware he seems, he's obsessed with your personal life. that means you don't even have to rant to him about school drama or your friends or crush because he can and will know it. what he doesn't like, though, is when your attention is towards anything but him. he may not be the most physically comfortable to cuddle but he will offer you his jackets which he would end up not washing right after you use them, instead he wears them, feeling closer to you than ever.

it even lulls him to sleep for the times you're unable to sleep over at his room.

tim may not know how to comfort you like dick whenever you wake up from nightmares but he does know ways to avoid them; he knows a lot of strategic methods to get you drowsy after a moment's panic.

bonus points if you cuddle him afterwards! he loves the warmth that you emanate, loves it when your body leans against him and makes him feel so important. tim loves it when you snuggle him unknowingly, tightening your already bruising grip on him, he loves reciprocating it too, feeling a special bond with his sibling that not even his parents could offer.

though he doesn't openly tell you that he loves you, he does so in his own ways! you don't want to see an entire photography room dedicated to his younger sibling— most pictures contributed by tim. you don't want to see the terabytes of files that are all about you and your interests, millions of video imagery of just you sketching or writing diary entries, sometimes eating or rambling senselessly. you don't know it but tim loves playing the videos of you in the background, especially the ones where you're humming a tune or singing a lullaby; those are his favorites.

it's not his fault that you're just so interesting to him, that your presence is so comforting, that you're the only person closest to him that has the ability to make him melt into you, unknowingly succumbing to your spoiled wishes.

jason todd comes into the picture later, and he is a very enraged man. he's mad at his replacement, at bruce, at you, at the entire universe.

at first he just doesn't understand anything. he doesn't understand why bruce finds it so easy to not only replace his status as robin but to also bring in another child, who's valued and loved more despite not taking the mantle of robin. he's mad at just how quick he was replaced, how it seems like bruce never avenged him, and yet if he threatens your safety then the old man suddenly turns violent towards him?!

jason wouldn't bring you into the fray, because you're unaware of the entire situation, but fuck, he doesn't understand why you are just so cherished when he'd watch the news and sees your picture plastered all over the reporters' walls, talking about the child who bruce never allowed to separate from his side. they talk about how you're the sheltered one, the hearthrob of all media with just how clingy the billionaire is towards his supposed younger sibling.

he's not jealous, he gets why bruce is protective and smothers himself all over you; but he hates feeling replaced, feeling discarded and forgotten by the very man who'll avenge your death if that ever happened.

hence why he has to see it for himself, has to see you for himself. it's a coincidence, a miracle actually that he just seems to easily find you by the kitchen of the manor— a manor whose aura is now different from last time, it seems like it now reeks of life, of personality. clearly you were the main cause of all of this.

you could simply be reading a book and sipping your nightly tea, but jason would soon realize just how... vulnerable you are at the moment. you find him hiding in the shadows and all you offer is a wide stare with no sense of self defense whatsoever. it's the same vulnerability that he sees off the cruelest streets of gotham. you're exactly like the innocent kids who get brutally murdered without justice, just like the children who have never once gained penance for the torture they had to experience just living off of personality.

jason isn't a dumbass, living near the crime alley means hearing the gossips of every citizen. your name, or preferably your last name is famed even in the underground. your mother is infamous for catching the attention of most crime lords by running off with their cash, successful staying hidden to care for her child, just right until she met her untimely demise. you lost her early just like how he lost his mother early as she had fallen victim to drug overdose.

he'll discover why gotham's vigilante seems to be so protective over you. the way you carry yourself, the warmth you give off as you offer him your leftover dinner despite not

you told him that your dad taught you to never talk to strangers— but clearly he's not because "how else would you be able to trespass the millions of security alarms in the manor? you must've lived here before." you'll state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, sipping your drink before you offer him a seat next to yours, unafraid of the dangers that lie ahead of you—

"you must've really been pampered by the old man, huh?" is all his reply, the voice changer of his makes him sound naturally intimidating, like he's ready to attack but no, that's not his intentions with you. he'll take a seat beside you, try to make out what book you're reading and that's when he knows that you truly have no idea that it's your dead brother who's talking to you. you have no idea of his resurrection whatsoever as you start to mumble off about the novel— he finds it quite amusing that, finally, he's not the only guy who enjoys literature in the family, even going as far as to recommend his own fair share of favorite novels to you.

once he leaves out of the window after a seemingly long session of talking, definitely aware that yes, bruce does have a microchip inserted under your skin, and the watch you're wearing has a voice recorder that sends recordings straight to the batcave's system; jason takes note to visit you more often, finding the normalcy you offer very welcoming.

he likes it, likes your mellow behavior. he'll even admit that you're the only proof that bruce can, in fact, raise a child right, even if that means tracking their entire life. but that's the old man's love language, and jason knows it in himself that he's already planning for a way to take you to ride his motorcycle at night without bruce's knowledge; just so his angel knows the feeling of gotham's breeze flowing through their hair since bruce seems to love dictating your every move.

once he does form a solid plan to take you away, even just temporarily, you don't have to worry about the criminals who litter the streets because jason made sure that nobody's gonna mess with him and his angel's bonding time together.

the youngest, damian wayne, and the second biological child of bruce is a special case. his upbringing as an assassin makes him susceptible to his fits of tantrums. the first time he steps foot into the manor is the same time he will threaten anyone around him; and that includes you, the bastard child. quite frankly, your first greeting with him would be the same as the one in the original storyline, you'll greet him with a tray of sweets in your hand and a small smile and he'll reply with a sword on your neck. but the difference would be the undeniable fact that dick and bruce immediately stopped him from even nicking your delicate skin.

dick's swearing was shut down by alfred's scolding and you, again! pulling on your oldest brother's sleeve with an assurance that you're okay.

that's the very first time he sees his father truly reprimand him with nothing but rage in his eyes. despite damian's annoying antics towards his father the entire day, it seems like you were the snapping point.

his father, bruce wayne, made it very clear that he can mess with anyone and everyone in the family but you. that you have nothing to

his only reply would be a sneer as he demands they take him to his room immediately, unable to shut you down when you offer to help bring his luggage despite bruce's firm unwillingness and dick's hesitant request that his baby bird should instead spend time in his room instead.

but it was always your word above everybody else's and damian hates that, hates that everyone just seems to succumb to your request as long as it doesn't compromise your safety. the bitterness that keeps resurfacing in his heart whenever he sees you wearing tim or dick's jacket, or if he caught sight of bruce giving you affection was a feeling he tried to convince himself wasn't jealousy.

not jealousy towards you, no, but towards them. your behavior towards him was nothing but kind, a kindness that was taught to him as weakness. he thinks you're weak and undeserving of being spoiled and yet he hates it whenever he sees his blood sibling (whom he called a bastard child so many times) become too close with anyone but him.

he hates it, he hates you and his conflicting feelings. he hates it when he pushes you away, hates it when he sees you pout after another failed attempt at trying to have your youngest sibling talk to you.

and as the days or even weeks pass by, with all your effort to try to bond with him, with the days where he can feel dick's energy drain because you insisted on spending time with damian instead of dick again, with tim's intolerable treatment towards the him because you chose to bother damian instead of that loser— are the days he feels himself actually becoming closer to you because he relishes in your insufferable behavior towards them, because you just seem so sweet to him.

damian feels that it's right that you make him the exception.

so it's inevitable that damian will eventually discover both your talents towards art and the love for nature. it's a mistake, really, when one day as he stalks through the hallways he'd find you in your own atelier, painting a portrait of a robin with a color scheme that matches his vigilante suit. the beams of sunlight seems to hit you just right because you looked so at peace with your surroundings, humming a tune, unaware of your youngest brother who has found himself at your most natural state.

he'll budge in without moment's hesitation afterwards, steering clear behind you as he analyzes your art. it would only be after a few minutes would he announce his presence in the room, expecting you to scream at him to buzz off but all you did was jump in your seat, looking back to eye the intruder only to find out it was damian all along, offering him a smile and a seat beside you.

after he does so, you'll both end up spending the entire day bombarding each other with art tips and animal facts. he'll give you comments about the bird's proportions and you give him guidelines on how to properly mix your colors without it looking muddled. it's like you two are meant to be siblings because damian swears he ended up clinging to your side after your painting session, refusing to even seat beside anyone during dinner time if it isn't you because he's not done rambling about the rainbow eucalyptus you had told him you'd seen in a nature documentary once— so it's rightfully his place to be beside you and not drake's or grayson's or even his father.

eventually you two would be as close as peas in a pod because you're seemingly the only one who knows how to calm him down, the only one with the right to raise your voice at him and to ask him of favors because you're his blood sibling. and because you both share the same blood, that means you both should share clothes that complement each other, share snacks and treats, share matching bracelets and necklaces and any jewelry, you're the only one allowed to hang around his room and him in yours.

the others find it annoying that you let him be, but what choice do they have? unless they would like to hear an earful from damian then they should stay silent because you both aren't done painting each other's nails yet!

stephanie brown is shortly introduced to you after her incessant insistence on meeting you right after stepping foot into the manor. she knows of your internet fame for being the beloved bruce wayne's 'favorite' child and she's not afraid to admit that you are indeed adorable in person! unlike your first meeting with damian, steph would immediately coddle you at first glance, insisting you call her by 'steph' and that

due to the short period of time as her robin and her being constantly reprimanded for her antics, you'd take it in yourself to become closer with her, and she accepts your offer without any complaints. she's also one of your muses for your art and it's a good thing she has a sense of style unlike your brothers who are either too flashy (you had to stifle a laughter looking at the discowing costume) or too dull. damian's fashion sense is good but he's often out during the time period you spend with steph, and even if she often doesn't stay still, you at least hsve someone to talk your ears off whilst you try to sketch the poses she chose.

her obsession towards you stems from your willingness to "match her freak" or whatever internet lingo she finds that day, but she's a fun company to be around! she's always there for you when you need to rant about anything regarding your feelings, especially since you're at the age where you're a teenager and your emotions towards your family would be all over the place and she'd relate the most towards that.

so other than barbara, you'll find yourself speaking up about any concerns you have to steph, and she turns your 'favoritism' towards her her entire personality.

but if you think of even spilling your secrets about a highschool crush to steph or news that someone had asked you out for prom them then spoiler alert! don't. like her mentor, steph will drop signs and clues and your brothers would promptly deal with that. awe, don't worry about feeling alone though or if you weren't permitted to go to your highschool prom because steph and babs will be the ones to convince bruce to throw you your own very elegant gala where you would dance with only your siblings!

see, isn't she so strategic that way? psht, you don't need a boy or a girl acting as your temporary reprieve when your entire family is there for you! steph is here for you and you did technically promise to go out with her today to go shopping so...

it's not that she isn't on your side, no! but you're very much the entire family's baby and she doesn't want you losing your attention on her, definitely not! her goofy personality towards you really does cover her intense urge to be by your side really well. unlike damian, it's not obvious that she's trying so hard to monopolize your time for herself but you're just so fun to be around and she's at her best behavior when it comes to you.

so what's wrong if she ditches her other friends to bond with her beloved sibling? it's not like they'd understand what it's like having someone who actually looks at her for her rather than just the surface level.

don't question why most of the gifts she had given you (which ranges from attires like jackets and shles, to matching bracelets, even little fidget toys) all don a shade of purple and blue! and don't also question why her gallery is filled with cute selfies of you and why your phone's lock screen wallpaper is now suddenly matching with hers.

after all, steph likes making it known that you are her favorite!

cassandra cain, when she first saw you, is, of course, silent. but she makes her presence known quickly after she has enough proof that you've no fight in your body. she may not be the most expressive in words but she is through actions.

you were actually the one who had first approached her after bruce initially introduced you two to each other, offering her a handshake and a greeting in sign language. albeit it being crusty, and her insisting that it's alright if you do the talking, it seems like you were more than willing to learn sign language just for the sake of your new sister and she likes it.

she really, really likes it, appreciates how there were no signs of malice in your movements and just how comfortable you seemed with someone who could potentially end your life with just a snap of her fingers. and yet you treat her like she's not a weapon of murder but rather another sibling who is welcomed into your own world.

you ask her if she wants to hang out with you and steph in your own personal sleepover inside your room and she accepts it because of just how comforting your presence is. it's been so long since she had last felt like she was treated as a human and you were proof that she's glad she never took the path to human carnage like her father intended her to because then she wouldn't meet someone who would soon be so precious to her.

cass may not talk a lot but she is a listener.

a listener to both your words and your body language. it's quicker for her to notice if you ever needed a hug or a catalyst for comfort. she knows your boundaries and when you need space the most. she knows it when you want to open up to her about how stuffy the manor is beginning to feel, how it feels as if they're becoming more sensitive about your social life, how you wish your friends aren't distancing themselves from you because of how intimidating your family is.

and you can say all that to her because cass, alongside duke and sometimes steph, would be the only ones keeping your deepest darkest desires to their grave. although she may not understand your reasonings on why you even felt like your family is coddling you too much (because they're not! they love you very much and she does too) in the first place, she's always the one offering you to hold her hands whenever you're going through a momentary panic attack or a shoulder to lean on whenever dick would scold you for something impulsive you've done.

unlike your neglected counterpart, cass would always be by your shadows, watching every one of your moves and to abide by bruce's order to make sure you wouldn't escape, shall you ever feel rebellious during your teenage years. you may be older than her but she's stronger than you, more experienced and can even combat your dad if she wants to.

yet she always seems to let her guard down when it comes to you because you just seem to have that alluring effect on everybody. can't you understand just how important you are to everybody? you're the most important to her, you're one of the first few people who had treated her like a human so she swears on her life to protect you from harm's way like you did her whenever she's often in a pit of despair.

cass isn't the most expressive, so she makes up for it by instead leaving signs that she really cares for you, or sometimes hiding little trinkets for you to find in your room. it's like her very own message that translates 'cass was here'.

whenever you sit beside her at the dinner table, she always slips in extra food by your plate without you looking or sometimes even filling your glass bottles with extra juice and you'll never know why until you realize that it's her way of telling you to eat more. sometimes, your clothes would go missing until you see your sisters wearing your own collection of jackets and hoodies then swapping them in your drawers for their own— you'd realize that cass got that idea from steph and you can't get mad at her or anybody else as it soon becomes tradition that you'll have an entire closet dedicating to the missing clothes you have that your siblings have replaced to their own attire.

cass really does love you and although she can't always say it out loud, you'll always have a constant reminder instead. as long as you're safe and sound then you don't have to witness the darker sides of her that she hides from you.

then finally, duke thomas. he may have been introduced to you the latest but you could say in terms of every trait, he'd be the brother you'd like to keep close for every situation. your first meeting with him is quite frankly the most normal one of them all, introducing yourself to duke through dinner. although he may be temporarily under bruce's guardianship over anything else, he's incredibly comforting to be around as he's quick to catch on your emotions but unlike the others, he doesn't push you to open up to him, but he won't leave your side at all either.

duke is the only metahuman you're probably allowed to be close with because your dad absolutely refuses you from even trying to talk with the superfamily. and duke heavily prides himself with that information, often secretly showing you his metahuman skills and answering whatever questions you have about them.

like jason, duke wouldn't fully delude himself into thinking you're innocent, that you need to be babied to the point they feel the urge to track even the food you eat— so he's your reliable source for any video games you were forbidden to play or any movies dick would consider too gruesome for you. he's chill, he even sneaks you unhealthy chips once in a while which makes him automatically one of the top in your tier list.

but don't think he's entirely on your side, because whilst duke seems the most normal to you - the only sibling who wouldn't smother you in blankets the moment you accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife - he's also batshit crazy for his own sibling and he'll sacrifice a lot for you two. so if you even dare try to suggest an idea that duke knows would risk not only him, but especially you, then that idea automatically is relayed to your dad and you wouldn't really want your father's gentle scolding anymore.

you can try to find a loophole to go out with him though! if you want to eat batburgers outside then you can do so when he's at his patrol, seeing as how he's the only batkid who does daytime patrol and that's way safer than eating at night, no?

so do expect spending more time with him the most outside, other than with dick and damian, but you'll be forced to sit in the sidelines where nobody can lay their hands on you whilst duke would be busy fighting crime and afterwards treating you to ice cream like he didn't just 'accidentally' and brutally body slammed a criminal into the wall for giving you heart eyes.

'most normal member of the family, my ass' would be the first thing that pops into your mind, but hey! at least you didn't have to be always locked up into the stuffy manor, right...?

at least you get to spend time with all of your siblings and a very loving and attentive father..!

little did you know that the only reason they allowed you out is to give you this false sense of independence, slowly but surely planning for the ultimate day where they truly would lock you up away from the world.

but they just can't help it, you know? the media's greedy hands are starting to take more than they could; so many eyes are on you and danger awaits at every corner in gotham— they can't afford having their beloved being pried away from their arms.

so is it truly a blessing or a curse in disguise? you don't know anymore.

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

I've seen a lot of takes on what would happen if Sonic and Tails returned to West Side Island and confronted the people who were so abusive to Tails, and I had an idea for a somewhat new spin on it.

What if, now that Tails is a world famous hero, the Islanders try to try to basically gaslight him into thinking none of the abuse ever happened? They find out he's coming and they throw a big "Welcome Home" party and give him a medal and stuff, and when confronted about their treatment of him just completely deny or twist it. Like "oh yes I'm so sorry there were a couple kids who were bullies but that happens to everyone you weren't being targeted, and we tried to get them to stop it" or "we didn't know you were alone and homeless, if we knew we would have taken you in" and all sorts of garbage like that

And Tails, who's maybe a tween-young teen now, and no longer has distinct memories from that early in his life, starts to question if maybe he really was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe he really was just bullied by one or two kids, and they weren't really that bad. Maybe people didn't really chase him away and refuse to even let him go through their garbage for food. He knows he has anxiety. Maybe he was just imagining how much everyone hated him. And he almost wants to believe it, to believe that he was never truly hated.

But Sonic remembers. Sonic remembers the gang of older kids beating and violently attacking toddler aged Tails, and only stopping when he physically intervened with his own fists. He remembers questioning the townsfolk about the two-tailed fox he'd seen and being meet with sneers and complete disdain. He remembers how skinny Tails was, how his ribs were visible even through his fur and how he wolfed down the food Sonic offered him so quickly that he nearly threw it up later. He remembers how Tails flinched from any quick movement or attempt at touch. He remembers the long process of gaining the fox's trust, a process that tested his nine-year-old patience as he spent literal weeks urging Tails to come closer, keeping his hands slow and his face friendly, finally getting the fox to join him at the campfire, to walk beside him without dashing away when moved his arm too fast, and then, eventually, to let him touch him. He remembers the first few times Tails let him try to brush out his matted, dirty fur, each knot a testament to neglect, and finding scars and wounds on the skin beneath that spoke of so much abuse. He remembers realizing for the first time that normal, everyday Mobians could be just as cruel as Eggman.

Tails doesn't trust his own memory. But Sonic remembers. And Sonic is not quick to forgive.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

First, let me apologise for making people worry. I appreciate all those who reached out and I'm sorry that I couldn't get back to you all.

I have been through a very rough spiral. It was building for months, and I am still not fully okay.

For those who want context, it's under the cut.

I bought a house in May. It's expensive. I wasn't ready financially or in many ways for that step, but my partner convinced me. I told him as much but I was not heard. Alas, I have a mortgage, full time work, astudent loan, and an ongoing school program to contend with. It hasn't been easy and it caught up to me.

At the same time, a person who traumatised me and I have no way of fully extricating from my life, has moved closer. To keep the peace, I have to associate with him to a degree and he pretends that nothing ever happened. To him, it was nothing.

In June, I moved. It was hard and fast paced. I did most of the paperwork etc for the whole process and obv helped with the physical transition as well. I was responsible for deadlines and checklists for not just myself but my partner.

I was plugging holes in a sinking boat.

At the same time, I had obligations to my family. Every weekend if I wasn't dealing with the house and all that goes into it, I was running around to babysit or see family or whathave you.

In July, I pinched a nerve behind my tailbone. I missed a week of work bc my injury but it took longer for my to recover. I am still feeling it today. It was more than physical, but emotional.

I also got three periods that month. Hormonal can't begin to explain how fucked up I've been.

On top of all that, there are underlying issues associated with other trauma and discontent. I'm realising that I have been loyal and tolerant to the point of my own detriment.

I don't want to hurt people how I've been hurt, so I don't speak up. When people tell me something about myself, I let all the doubts planted in my mind from years of abuse convince me that they're right. I can admit my faults but often times I will think that proof of one flaw means everything about me is rotten.

People forget about me or just don't care. Both or either. They don't put the same effort in that I do. I find it hard to connect because years of disregard and neglect have told me that the other side just won't care.

But I'm not just hurt, I'm angry. I'm seeking therapy and trying to figure this out.

It all boiled over after my last post. Nothing I do is enough. For anyone. Not even when it's a hobby. I was frustrated bc the place I use for escape just made me feel like less than.

Obviously, I don't mean everyone or even the majority. I appreciate the discourse and fun and everything here! There are so many awesome people to interact with and I have missed you all, however, my headspace was bad. Very bad. I had thoughts I haven't dealt with in years.

I put my nose down and just went to work. I didn't wanna talk to anyone. I didn't wanna be in the world.

I did some reading, eventually some non-fandom writing, and sometimes, I just stayed alive.

I don't know if I'm really okay but I'm trying.

To those who have been so patient and supportive, you deserve everything. To those who are silent supporters, you do too. And even to those people who send me the most vile hate, you deserve to lift yourself out of the dark space you're stuck in. Hopefully, I can, too.

[lowkeyrobin]

TREVOR SPENGLER ; you make loving fun

summary ; you, Trevor's first proper non-toxic partner shows him true love, and how great it really is when you find your person

warnings ; language, mentions of making out, talk about toxic people/exes, verbal abuse, and emotional neglect

disclaimers ; Trevor is described as bisexual, reader is a garbage fan (green flag)

word count ; 1k

I'm working on reqs rn dw guys 🙏

masterlist

Trevor knew that the second he'd met you, he'd fallen head over heels.

The only thing he was worried about, after being reassured by both his mom and Pheobe, was how you'd treat him. His last ex was terrible to him, and by that point, he felt like he was an abuse magnet.

Thankfully, nothing was ever physical, he thanked whoever or whatever was looking over him for that, even fate itself.

Talking about past exes, his last ex-boyfriend first, he'd essentially treat him like shit and try to hide their relationship. He'd use him for pleasure and attention and then ignore him and act like he didn't know him. Trevor was always there for him, but he was never once available for Trevor. That shit ended quickly thanks to his mom convincing him to end things, plus moving away again made it easy.

His ex-girlfriend was slightly the same way.

For context, Trevor was never popular, but he wasn't ignored or bullied in school either. He was attractive enough to be boasted about, I guess, but he wasn't gathering hoards of girls to swoon over him either.

She used him as popularity points, as she was one of the half-popular girls who wanted brownie points for dating someone on a lower social level than herself. Trevor never saw it and had to deal with the consequences. The fighting, the way she'd scream and yell and argue with him over the simplest things. She treated him like a charity case.

So, he was fairly afraid to hurt himself again. He wanted to pursue you, he did. He was just fucking scared.

But, with enough pressure and reassurance from Pheobe, his mom, and new friend Lucky, he gathered the courage to ask you out. During that process, he rambled about how smitten he was for you and had to genuinely stop himself as he realized he'd never felt like this for anyone before. You weren't someone he just wanted to occasionally hold hands with and kiss. He wanted a genuine, healthy relationship with you. He wanted to be treated right, just this once.

But you, knowing about his past relationships, knew what he needed. And you were dedicated to showing him what actual loved looked like, what a real relationship felt like.

From dates at the roller-rink, to movie nights inside, you showed him that you could love him like how he needed to be loved. He needed to be shown that what he went through before wasn't normal and that you would never think to hurt him like people in his past did.

You made loving fun for him, he'd never smiled and had so much fun with someone, ever.

He loved making out with you in his new bedroom at the firehouse, and your soft kisses of reassurance when he was upset or stressed. He'd always find his stomach and lungs genuinely in pain from how much he laughed with you. He was infatuated with you, with holding your hand and caressing said hand with his thumb, with wrapping his arms around you to just hold you like that in silence.

His photos app is filled with pictures of you, over 500 through the past year. His lockscreen? A picture of you two at the county fair under dark blue neon lights.

He watches you sitting in the window, your body barely fitting onto the ledge. Thank God for bay windows, but christ, the people who made this building over 120 years ago needed some better architectural design here. What was the bay window for if not to sit in it?

He'd only woken up a bit ago, having been in the shower as you entered his room, awaiting his arrival. His family thankfully loved you, and would let you in no matter what.

"You look nice today," He comments, running a hand through his hair.

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Do I not usually look nice?"

"No, no, I mean, yeah! You always look nice!" He quickly sputters, "I-I like your shirt. Garbage, they're cool"

You lightly smile, reassured in his loyalty and kind-heartedness by his answer. "You're fine, Trev, I'm playing" You chuckle, "You've never even listened to Garbage"

You pull the sleeves of your undershirt down, feeling a cool wave hit your body like the wave of water at the beach. Your baggy jeans cover you perfectly as the sun peaks out from the clouds.

"You don't know that!" He exclaims, crossing his arms, "All your Spotify playlists are public, I can listen to whatever you are with a couple clicks"

"Okay, bud" You throw your hands up in a sarcastic annoyance. "Whatever you say, pal. I guess we gotta break u-" You quickly stop yourself, looking up at Trevor with slightly widened eyes. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry"

You quickly hop off the ledge of the window, your hands clenched into fists as you stand in front of him awkwardly, awaiting his reaction.

"I'm so sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn't mean to say that-"

"It's fine, Y/n/n" Trevor looks at you with a confused yet laid back expression. "Why are you apologizing?" He catches himself, finding the answer on his own, "Oh, well... it's not that big of a deal, it's okay" He shrugs, "It's fine"

"Sorry, uhm-"

Trevor quickly wraps you in a hug, resting his arms over your shoulders. "I love you, okay? I've never loved anyone so fun and amazing to me, joking about shit is fine"

You nod into his shoulder, "Sorry"

"It's okay" He chuckles, rubbing a hand over your back. "You're fine, it's alright"

"You're the fun one, by the way" You mumble.

"Hm?"

"You're the one who makes loving fun, Trev"

He silently smiles, his face flushing as he holds you a little tighter.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic..Yan! Bruce Wayne w/ new robin darling

warnings: Dysfunctional family dynamics, manipulation, emotional abuse, narcissism, delusion, kidnapping ect. I used experiences from my own family dynamics. My own father pinned me against my other siblings and did similar things so i guess this is personal lolll. Maybe others can relate too? Not romanticizing!!! but i do think yan! father Bruce would be mental like this.

Anyone going through parents like this, just know you're not alone. You can escape eventually. I did, so will you.

Masterlist

Requests? Always open

Yandere Bruce Wayne is a self righteous prick with an intense savior complex. So much entitlement for just one man Bruce, being dissatisfied with his current children's rebellion, needed someone new to traumatize. That someone is you. He noticed you instantly. A shy kid he encountered at one of his charity events. How "naive" and "dumb" his new batchild was. You're weak...and lonely...you're a helpless soul in need of saving. You're a perfect subject to wipe clean and reshape into his new robin.

According to him at least.

Your siblings can see just how distorted and plain wrong his 'love' for you is. He had the same kind for them too. They are all way too familiar with his process.

First he bombards you with praise. You're such a smart and amazing kid! So strong too. He's never seen anything like it.

Then isolation..Maybe you'd like to live with him and his other children for a little bit? It's a perfect, fun life here and he can dump so much money into your future in exchange for a few months of training. Its all temporary, you'll be back to mommy and daddy in no time.

Yeah lies.

He keeps you longer than the agreed time while giving your parents bullshit answers as to why they can't contact you. He tells them it could breach security if they call you but they keep on pushing back. He tries to pay them off and threatens them which ends up in them going to court to fight for you. The whole time he was making a case of child neglect and completely screwed them over. They lose custody and you're his to keep. He keeps this on the down low and ensures this won't hit the airwaves. Naturally, you ask him about going home. You never did get those weekends with your parents that he promised...and wasn't this only supposed to be up to six months?? It's almost been a year now. Why haven't you received a call? A text?...nothing? This is starting to make you get a knot in your stomach. *deep sigh*

Sorrows. Prayers.

Next is the re-programing/gaslighting. Your family was perfectly fine. More than loving and providing for you, you had a happy nuclear family..maybe a little unconventional in some ways but it was fine. You missed them dearly, you didn't understand why they suddenly are absent? Why did they just leave you here? Why couldn't you leave this place? Bruce is so twisted and his power he holds enables this false reality that he lives in. He projects his childhood and fragments of the other kids lives onto you. He'd drill it into you for hours that they never loved you, they begged him for money in exchange for you. They didn't care for the responsibility of you and were overjoyed by this way out. Though truthfully this was for the best anyways...they were dysfunctional and dangerous. They were setting you up for failure and your new dad just had to step in.... Can't you see? The memories you had of them were all false. You was living in a dream. Sorry to tell you, but it's probably best to not think too hard on it and embrace this new life of yours...it's meant for you. Are you being a brat and not accepting what he's telling you? How dare you declare him a liar. He's not the one who abandoned you. He saved you and he'd be a horrible parent if he let you go back to those criminals! Be grateful for what he's given you.

Manipulation, fear tactics and torture are all used to keep you in check when you ask about your family or try to escape because you know something is wrong. He runs you into mental circles until you're confused and disoriented

This is your new family now. He is your new dad now. You don't need them. You're his daughter and only his. Get in line, Robin.

Yandere Bruce whose next step in the plan is to play favorites with you over the other batkids in order to gain your trust. It's to give you an untruthful version of what life is actually like here when you're his robin. He purposefully spends more time with you, allowing you to fully get your way and defends you in bickers between the other kids. Sometimes he'll even pin you against each other if that works. You don't know better though. You think your siblings are bitter because you're better than they ever were at your age. But never being enough for Bruce eventually gets to you.

You're his shiny, new golden child in the making. He will perfect you. Your mind will be cleansed of all that filth in the world you've seen. Forget all you know for what he will teach you. What he's failed to perfect with the others, he'll accomplish with you.

Uh oh...you're starting to displease Batman. Don't worry...this is the second to last step. He steadily shows disapproval and acts like there's something wrong with you. Maybe he was wrong about you? Maybe you aren't meant to be great like the others because you are barely average right now. Just look at how scarred you are after one night on patrol...worse than Jason on his first night. You'll become dependent on his approval like the rest but you cannot seem to escape the look of disappointment from his face. The scoldings only seems to worsen.

He then comes around, but patronizing this time...coddling you with every step. The way you perform is showing him you aren't able to do anything for yourself. You're weak again. You're nothing but you're lucky to still be in his care because there's still a chance. He can fix you but it's going to take a lot of work. Can his new robin endure it or should he kick you out and leave you to the wolves? He knows the answer you'll choose as you're desperate for his fatherly love. He'll break you then rebuild you and break you some more until you're exactly who he wants you to be.

Coming after the greats means you're expected to excel past them....quickly. Don't embarrass him or he'll get another.

[stevieschrodinger]

So here we have Eddie Munson, wild child, irresponsible Omega.

Gets himself knocked up, because of course he does. Isn't even sure who the Alpha is.

Eddie Munson; father to an hours old pup. Eddie Munson is still in highschool because he fucked senior year royally. He lives in a one bed trailer with his uncle that is not, in any way, equipped for a pup. Eddie Munson who already has an arrest record and is quite clearly still slinging drugs on the side.

Absolutely not; CPS takes his pup before she's a day old.

Eddie Munson rails against it, screams about it, cries about it, has a fucking come to Jesus moment with himself at three in the morning and he's still wearing the godamn stupid pants from the hospital because his ass is leaking and his tits are sore and god dammit he's getting his pup back.

He sells the last of his stock the next day, drops highschool and job hunts like his life depends on it. Still needs a place that's not the trailer; no one will rent to an unmated single Omega. He won't get his pup back as a single Omega.

Enter Eddie's best friend: Jeff. More importantly, Alpha Jeff. Who does Eddie an absolute fucking solid and agrees to move in with him. So they do. And they pretend to be a couple to get Eddie's pup back.

Unfortunately, Steve Harrington has seen it all before and sees through them in about thirty seconds flat. They even have two bedrooms and one is clearly Eddie's and one is clearly Jeff's and they confidently lie to Steve's face and tell him they had a friend stay last night, that's all, this will be the pups room.

There's an actual crib in Eddie's room already; Steve doesn't say shit.

Because the thing is, Steve's fostered pups from actually abusive homes and neglect ridden situations, and this isn't that.

And the few times he sees Eddie and Jeff together, pretending to be a couple it's just...painful. Jeff puts his arm around Eddie one time and Eddie actually pulls away instinctively,, a 'what the fuck is this?' expression clear on his face until he realizes and makes himself sink back into it.

They tried to hold hands one time. It almost turned into a thumb war.

Eddie might be lying through his teeth, but he's a desperate Omega who just wants his baby back. So Steve starts the process, signs off on the supervised visits, and spends eight weeks watching Eddie Munson be the best parent anyone could hope for.

Inconveniently, Steve spends those eight weeks falling in love.

And they go on like that, until Steve bumps into Jeff and his girlfriend somewhere, and Jeff fucking panics and drops the girls hand line it's on fire, and the girl gets the most offended fucking look on her face and it's everything Steve can do not to burst out fucking laughing. And Jeff is trying to sputter an explanation which is turning his girlfriend incandescent with rage, "you said you were just friends! Is that your pup??!"

And Steve is actually frightened for Jeff at this point because this girl looks like she is ready to start throwing down so Steve has to just admit, that he knows. He's known right from the start.

Eddie nor Jeff can't lie for shit.

And he talks the girl down, "so Jeff is actually a really great guy, he's just been trying to help Eddie get his pup back," and the girl melts at the story.

Eddie doesn't. Eddie fucking freaks out. Thinks he's about to loose his pup all over again.

But Steve has an alternative suggestion, and it starts by asking Eddie "what are you doing this Friday? Can I take you to dinner?"

[thatsmybook]

Just rewatching the documentary and just before 4 mins in, Lisa is explaining to Omar her thought process for what will be the main dilemma/ crux of the show, and it made me realise what exactly Simon was saying when he broke up with Wille at the end of Episode 5. He was saying: I've seen what the monarchy does to you and how it hurts you, I've experienced it myself, so I have additional empathy for how that must feel for you. Also, I, too, am being hurt by it (see all of season 3 when he's not smiling with Wille). I thought I could try it out for your sake to see if I could handle it because you're worth it.

But after spending the birthday day with Prince Wilhelm and the Royal Court, he sees that it will continue to hurt both of them, and there will be no respite, things will only get worse. He has seen Wille get worse right in front of him on that day. It is poisoning Wille, and he is becoming someone he doesn't recognise. Simon decides that he does not want that to happen to either of them. The only thing he can do is leave the system so it can stop hurting him. Unfortunately, because Wille is entwined with Prince Wilhelm, it means he has to leave Wille too.

To me, by staying with Wille, Simon is condoning bad behaviour or the status quo by just going along with everything the Royal Court says while they both slowly deteriorate. So though he leaves Wille to save himself, he is also saving Wille because he is showing Wille that this is not alright, boundaries have to be put in place somewhere and Wille needs to start setting some boundaries for himself too. If Wille thought that Simon would stick around to support him and occasionally be someone he could lash out to, then he may not have felt the need to save himself from the monarchy. Because Simon is around to hold him up.

So for King Wilhelm truthers, Simon is required to know his place as an aid to the King, whilst suppressing his own pain and never putting pressure on the King by asking for help with his own issues. There is never a time when they would be equal in their relationship, even in private, because everything about Simon's values, ambitions, and passions would have to be deleted. King Wilhelm's needs would come first. This is what class does. It sets up hierarchies of certain humans' needs being more important than others and even that certain humans are superior/supreme to others. Therefore, to function, it needs lackeys who know their place to serve those on top. Hillerska, as an institution, is a mirror of Simon's relationship as a partner for the next king. Hillerska being closed is the equivalent of Lisa abolishing the monarchy. (By the way, there's a real-life incident of the 16 year old Prince of Denmark having to be removed from his elite school when issues of sexual abuse and other scandals came to light. This happened in 2022).

On a side note, this made me think about the Duke's role as consort and imagine that that would be Simon's role to model himself on. If we want Wille to remain as a Crown Prince and have his boyfriend, do we want Simon to become as bland and ineffective as the Duke is, where all of his focus is solely on the Queen's needs. Smoothing over any rough patches with innane conversation and totally neglecting and not 'seeing' his child. Simon deserves to be himself, as does Wille.

[quinnysnursery]

could you write something with reader and cg!Matt where she has accidentally hurt herself (broken bone or something) and it triggers her (abusive household filled with times she has broken bones in the past) to regress to an age of around 2 or 3 and she's terrified to regress while at the hospital and then eventually she's still regressed while Matt takes her home and then maybe its just super fluffy and cute and with lots of physical touch and nicknames?

[🩹] sticks and stones can break my bones, but you would never hurt me | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!matt sturniolo x fem!little!reader

summary : an unfortunate incident leaves you and your caregiver struggling with the ghosts of your past

warning/extra tid-bits : ANGST FOLLOWED BY FLUFF, injuries, blood, stitches, talk of abusive/neglectful childhood, hospital trips, matt and y/n are dating outside of regression- this does not make age regression nsfw, ptsd, i think that's all!! plz let me know if there is anymore!!

word count : 1,979 + not proofread

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (line from @mikeykuns)

a/n : kinda strayed from the request just a bit but i hope you still enjoy it :)

Matt cursed under his breath as he slammed his foot on the gas- much too full of adrenaline to care about traffic laws. 

Your cries and sniffles echoed throughout the car, your shoulders racking as you attempted to muffle your cries.

He’d been preoccupied on something that, in hindsight, was not important at all. Blissfully unaware of his little’s attempt to cut an apple in the kitchen. He felt absolutely terrible- like he was the scum of all caregivers. 

Beside him in the passenger seat, you were trying to focus on keeping the dish cloth wrapped tightly around your bleeding hand. Your caregiver was talking, but you couldn’t hear him- flashbacks of your childhood had already wrapped around your brain, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.

Your childhood was far from a happy one; filled with constant yelling, crying and on occasion, injuries. 

It wasn’t rare that your younger self got into something you shouldn’t- whether that be by climbing a tree to escape your screaming parents or accidentally burning yourself while attempting to make dinner for you and your younger siblings.

It was safe to say you’d had your fair share of hospital visits in your youth. It’d been years since you had to be driven to the emergency room, it wasn’t really something you, or anyone, enjoyed.

Now though, you were sitting in the passenger seat of Matt’s van with a blood-stained dishcloth wrapped tightly around your hand. You’d asked Matt to slice up an apple, but he’d responded with a simple “in a moment.”

To anybody else, it would’ve been easy to wait but you had been regressed in the moment and it was not easy to wait. Nor did your regressed-self believe it would be a “moment”. Your parents had always said they’d cook dinner, “in a moment”- only to fall asleep and leave you and your siblings hungry.

The injury occurred when you, in the haze of littlespace, had decided you could slice your own apple. The pulsing pain in your hand tauntingly reminded you that you could not.

God, you were such an idiot. You knew Matt was better than your parents, that’s the whole reason you entrusted him with the responsibility of being your caregiver. If you had just listened, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. 

You still couldn’t process what Matt was saying, but in the midst of trauma-response plagued thoughts; you spoke. 

“I’m sorry, I…I don’t even know what I was thinking.” You stammered, voice hoarse from crying. Matt furrowed his brows as he exited the freeway, turning to face you for a split second.

“What?” He asked, baffled at the fact you were sorry. He was sorry! He was the one who’d neglected his responsibilities as a caregiver for some stupid social media thing.

“I’m sorry. I…I know it was…it was a stupid thing to do.” You admitted, fresh hot tears burning your eyes- the sensory only adds to the stinging pain from the injury on your hand. 

Matt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He hadn’t just met you yesterday, of course he knew of your past and the habits you still carried from your trauma- but it had been months since you apologized for something that was so blatantly not your fault.

“Sweetheart, I’m not mad.” Matt said, his words continuing to fall on deaf ears. 

The brunette man didn’t have much time to continue to reassure you, as he’d just pulled into the nearest parking spot he could in front of the emergency room.

Matt jumped out of the van, rushing over to your side door and helping you out. His heart broke at how lifeless you appeared. There were no small smiles, no commenting on the flowers planted outside the emergency room- nothing.

Just you, shuffling beside Matt trying to make yourself as quiet as possible.

It broke him that he’d caused this for you. If he’d simply held off on trying to find photos for Nick’s stupid photo dump, you’d be happily at home munching away on your apple slices.

“Sir?” The receptionist asked, snapping Matt out of his self-pitying thoughts. “She uhm- she…she needs stitches.” Matt explained, motioning to the dish towel he’d panicky-wrapped around your hand before rushing you into the car.

The receptionist nodded diligently, asking for your name and Matt’s relation to you. 

“Y/n L/n…and he’s my boyfriend.” You spoke up, earning another nod. Matt anxiously looked around, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

“You two can follow Nurse Buckley to an exam room,” The receptionist pointed to a female nurse dressed in sage-green scrubs, smiling toothily at the couple.

“C’mon sweetheart, we’ll get you stitched up in no time.” Nurse Buckley promised, leading you two to a secluded exam room- Matt helped you onto the uncomfortable bed, you mumbled out a “thanks”.

You weren’t mad at him, not at all. It had been your own stupid decision to attempt welding a knife while regressed, not Matt’s. You didn’t really understand why you felt so…small.

Not in the regression way though, you wouldn’t dare regress in a hospital- terrified of what your little-self would think. 

You felt small in a completely different sense, like your words carried little weight on the world. Despite Nurse Buckley and Matt being in the room with you, you felt shunned away from everyone.

It was then that it dawned on you, you’d triggered some sort of PTSD haze. A trauma response.

Sadly, the realization didn’t fix it- it only made you feel deeper shame. 

“Y/n?” Nurse Buckley called out, grasping your attention. “D’you feel okay hun? You don’t appear to have lost too much blood but if you feel dizzy-” 

You shook your head, “I don’t like hospitals.” You told the nurse, earning an understanding nod. “I understand.” Nurse Buckley looked towards Matt before meeting your eyes once again, “If you want your boyfriend to sit with you on the bed, I won’t tell.” She smiled cheekily.

You flashed her a small inauthentic smile. Matt noticed- the nurse didn’t.

“I’ll be right back, need to grab gloves.” Nurse Buckley told Matt, who nodded.

After the nurse left the room, Matt went straight back to apologizing.

“Hey…baby, look at me.” Matt cooed, carefully sitting in front of you on the stiff hospital bed. Your eyes shot up to meet Matt’s, you hated that.

That wasn’t how you behaved around Matt. With Matt you were playful and softhearted- right now, your stupid brain was forcing you to act like a scared child.

“Can you take a breath for me? You’re shaking.” The brunette boy’s voice was soft as silk as he brushed his fingertips against your tear-stained cheek. Those words broke the dam. 

Your face wrinkled up as you began crying once more, painful memories playing on repeat in the back of your mind. 

Matt’s heart broke for you, “Oh sweetheart…can I hug you?” He asked, you nodded quickly- wanting nothing more than for this awful haze to go away. As soon as permission was given, Matt’s arms wrapped around you tightly- careful to avoid your injured hand.

Your caregiver shushed you, rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I know, this must be so scary for you- right?” Matt cooed, you nodded into his neck. 

The fact your brain had decided to cope with a scary-situation in an unhealthy way combined with Matt’s soothing touch and voice, you felt a familiar safe, fuzzy, headspace lingering near. 

No.

You couldn’t regress. Not in a hospital. Maybe you would consider it if your littlespace wasn’t as young as it was- but sadly, that wasn’t the case.

Matt had been your caregiver for the better half of a year and in that year, he’d come to recognize the signs of an upcoming regression. The way you melted into a hug like a small child would, how you hid your face deeper into the crook of his neck- trying to bury yourself into his skin. 

“Feelin’ tiny?” Matt asked, lowering his already soft voice. You shook your head, trying to convince yourself that you weren’t. Matt frowned, pulling away from the hug and gently lifting your chin to make your eyes meet his.

“Sweetheart…what’s goin’ on? It’s okay to be tiny, I’ll keep you safe.” Your carer cooed, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. You whined, feeling the fuzziness grow over your mind more. 

“Alright! Let’s get you sewn up and on your way!” Nurse Buckley’s words washed a whole new wave of anxiety over you.

The stitches were not a fun experience. Even if Nurse Buckley had given you a local anesthetic, just the thought of a needle going in and out your skin was enough to make you bury your face into Matt’s sweater. 

Now though, you were both home with strict instructions to “take it easy”. 

And take it easy you would, because you were currently sitting atop the couch- various fluffy blankets surrounding you as Gravity Falls played on the television. 

You smiled gently- feeling much better than you had earlier- as Matt came back to the living room, a small pink bowl full of apple slices. Your heart warmed as the sight, eyes watering with love.

“Hey…what’s going on?” Matt asked, quickly setting the small bowl onto the coffee table and crouching in front of you. You shook your head, wiping your eyes with your uninjured hand. Matt frowned softly, still feeling guilty from the incidents that took place earlier in the day.

“Do you not want apples anymore? I…I can get you something else? Or, order something?” Matt offered frantically, causing you to shake your head once again. “No…Matt this is…you’re so sweet.” Your voice broke as you launch yourself into your carer’s arms, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

Matt sat in shock for a moment before latching onto you, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head. 

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve cut up the apple when you asked.” Matt said, ashamed of his actions. You furrow your brows, pulling away from the hug- “What? No, I’m sorry. It…it was a stupid decision.” You said, ashamed of your actions.

Matt’s brows mimicked yours, knitting together in confusion. “No. I’m…I’m your caregiver, I’m supposed to look after you and I failed that. I’m sorry.” Matt explained firmly.

You smiled at your caregiver, feeling the scared little girl inside of you heal.

Matt pulled you back into a hug, running a reassuring hand up and down your back. You felt the familiar fuzzy feeling from earlier return, but this time- you were more than happy to welcome it, especially after this stressful day.

Matt realized this instantly, his smile growing. “C’mon sweet girl, I think this show is too big for you.” The brunette cooed, grabbing the remote off of the coffee table and finding a much more age appropriate cartoon for you. 

You hummed excitedly, resting against your caregiver’s chest- eyes heavy with sleep. 

Matt hummed along to the theme-song of the cartoon, earning soft giggles from you. The two of you sat tangled together, a pile of fluffy blankets keeping both of you cozy, warm and safe.

You whined softly, rubbing your tired eyes with a balled fist. Matt cooed softly, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head- pulling you closer. 

“How’s your hand feeling?” Matt asked, earning a soft shrug from you. You lifted up your hand, pout on your lips.

“Dada ‘ss it.” You murmured, giving your caregiver your award-winning puppy dog eyes. Matt’s lips curled upwards at your words, pressing a gentle kiss to your hand- hoping his caregiver-magic would help the wound heal faster.

“I’m really sorry sweet girl,” Matt apologized for a final time. You thought for a moment before snuggling further into Matt’s chest, “...’s okay. Still’da best dada ever.” You smiled.

taglist !! :

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@v33angel @conspiracy-ash @hoes4matthew @elislytherpuffsturn

@mattsturnsgirlie

[tobydandelion]

Disabled Villainy isn't Ableism, it's Realism, or; Some People are Wrong about Nessa.

[Some 'Wicked' stage musical/Movie part 2 spoilers]

So I've been seeing a lot of takes about Nessa, (mostly on YouTube since that's the best social media platform for my current neurological needs), and there's a somewhat common one that I have the strong urge to dispute into the void. Some folks seem to misunderstand Nessa's role in the deconstruction of 'Evil'.

The Wizard is Systemic Evil, Glinda is Complacent Evil, and Nessa is Socially Traumatized Evil.

Because Wicked isn't just deconstructing society's perception of evil, but also Evil in practice- which comes from not only bias, misunderstanding, apathy, and greed- but also, the cycle of abuse. And a lot of disabled people don't like to hear this, because there's that lovely statistic that we can point to that says we're "more likely to be victims"- and that's true of abuse that reaches the level of criminality- but I dont think that's true of day-to-day, average, 'just plain mean' abuse. That kind of abuse is a learned behavior that comes from trauma. And, emotional neglect from your peers is trauma. Feeling like a burden is trauma. Watching all the other children playing and feeling left out is trauma. Being made to feel different over your entire life, is trauma.

Nessa isn't an ableist character, she's realistically Borderline for being disabled in a world without Dialectical Behavioral Therapy. Her character literally feels like she was written with BPD/NPD in mind- lashing out the most when she's feeling abandoned by a person she perceives as "hers", feeling the need to control the people around her, not caring how she hurts people in the process of that attempt to control their affection- she's literally my ex wife. They're both very extreme examples, but, with an understandable pathology. And the less extreme version of that is someone a lot of us need to actively fight against becoming every day. It's not fair that that's our burden, but it is. It's the thick line between healthy self-loving disabiltyPunk, or just being a dick. And it's a part of our extra personal labor that 'Entitles' us to an extra amount of grace that I don't think I'll ever really be able to properly quantify, because that line can be hard to see in the heat of the moment, through years of gaslighting and guilt and shame and resulting internalized ableism that we have the urge to fight against. The only way we can really see that line is in hindsight.

And while media that more thoroughly deconstructs this cycle is neccessary, so is simple media like Wicked. Especially in the context of an example of another traumatized marginalized character who made the decision to start actively trying to follow their ethics over their emotions despite their trauma. And, once again, the solution isn't limiting the options for marginalized characters, it's just making more marginalized characters in general.

A lot of folks also take issue with the entire concept of depicting disability being 'cured' in media at all, but, and thankfully I have actually seen this rebuttal: nothing about her life gets better once she becomes abled. And that's because she still has all that trauma from those years of severe marginalization that resulted in ostracization and feelings of powerlessness. She's still disabled- just only neurologically so, now. This is a terrific example of how different disabilities can intersect, and be exacerbated, or even created, by the neurological impact of marginalization.

In fact, that brings up another criticism that I've heard- that the characters are realistically ableist... in a society falling to fascism... in a story all about marginalization. I'm pretty sure that's intended, you guys.

Maybe I'll turn this into a script to film for shortform content next year when Part 2 comes out- I hope I'm out of Postpartum Depression by then. But I couldn't get this out of my head until I got it into words this morning. I think that's probably a good sign I'm starting to feel more like myself. Thankfully I had time to sit down and rock and type this morning, since my partner is taking care of our baby in the other room right now. (Not just babysitting, either- he's washing bottles.❤) He's 6 months now, and the most beautiful, funny, amazing person in the world. Meeting the new version of him every day as he gets stronger and brighter has been the light keeping me going. And we're already doing PHONICS. 💪🧠

[runariya]

Prompt idea: 🐉🤫

Hybrid Behavior Doctor JK v. Husky female. Husky female has behavior problems as she was abused for years and then dumped off by her owner. She doesn't like being touched and wants to be left alone. JK is a behavior specialist for hybrids so he is tasked with taking her home and trying to rehab her for adoption. He has his hands full. She destroys his furniture, scratches his door frames, doesn't clean up after herself, and leaves junk food wrappers and bags all over his house because she doesn't want to eat proper food. But he knows that what she's looking for is attention and she's acting badly to get it. So when he ignores her, it bugs her and she seeks him out. Eventually she becomes used to him, and she lets him touch her a few times. Feelings slowly grow between them. When it's time for her to be put up for adoption, he doesn't want her to leave him and he asks if she wants to stay. She agrees and he asks her on a date.

I originally pictured smut for the ending, but now that I've reached the end of my description, it kind of doesn't need it. I'll leave it up to you and how the story writes itself. If it goes in a more flirty, sexy manner, you can put the smut in at the end. If it goes more friendly to new love where it's way too early for them to have sex, then you can leave the smut out.

(hybrid+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: hybrid behaviour doctor!Jungkook x husky hybrid!female reader genre: hybrid!AU, S2L, fluff warnings: bratty reader, understanding JK, allusion to abuse, fluff word count: 1.308

a/n: I went with the 'more friendly to new love' theme, hope that's alright 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook’s a professional, a hybrid behaviour specialist to be exact, so why does he get frustrated?

He’s spent years working with hybrids of all kinds, from jittery squirrels to brooding panthers, and he’s always been able to handle them. He prides himself on his calm, patient approach.

But you?

You’re on a whole different level.

From the moment he brought you into his home, it’s been absolute chaos. You’re a husky hybrid, all sharp fangs and attitude, with a permanent scowl etched onto your face. You don’t trust him, don’t trust anyone, really, and that’s understandable, considering your background.

Your last owner didn’t just neglect you; they left you broken. Abused, abandoned, and dumped off like you were nothing. It makes Jungkook’s blood boil every time he thinks about it. He knows it’s going to take time to get through to you, but he’s never met anyone so determined to make that process as difficult as possible.

You refuse to let him touch you. You destroy his sofa cushions like it’s a personal mission. You’ve scratched deep gouges into his doorframes, chewed on the corner of his coffee table, and left wrappers and empty crisp packets scattered across every available surface.

“Messy,” he mutters to himself, picking up a half-crushed bag of crisps from under the sofa.

You’re perched in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and tail swishing in irritation as you watch him. “Maybe if your food wasn’t so boring, I wouldn’t have to eat crisps for dinner.”

“My food isn’t boring,” he counters, tossing the bag into the bin. “It’s healthy.”

“Healthy’s boring,” you shoot back, smirking like you’ve just won some kind of argument.

He sighs. He knows this is part of the act. You’re defiant because it gives you control, you make a mess because you want to provoke him. He’s seen it before in other hybrids who’ve been mistreated, it’s your way of testing him, of seeing if he’ll snap.

But he won’t, ever. 

“Suit yourself,” he mutters, brushing past you to grab his laptop off the counter. He makes a note about your eating habits, not that they’re habits, really. More like disasters waiting to happen at this point.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not going to tell me off?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re looking for attention,” he says casually, not even glancing up.

Your ears twitch, and he knows he’s hit a nerve. “I’m not,” you grumble. 

“Sure you’re not,” he replies, biting back a smile. He knows ignoring you drives you mad, but it’s all part of the plan. If he reacts to your antics, it’ll only reinforce them. If he doesn’t… well, eventually, you’ll come to him on your own.

It’s already starting to work.

You storm off in a huff, probably to destroy something else, but Jungkook doesn’t follow. He knows you’ll be back.

And you are.

Later that evening, you poke your head into his office, pretending you’re just passing by. Your ears are pinned back slightly, a telltale sign that you’re unsure, and Jungkook hides a smirk behind his laptop.

“Need something?” he asks, keeping his tone as natural as possible. 

You shrug, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you working on?”

“Notes,” he states simply.

You frown, clearly expecting more of a reaction. “Notes about me?”

“Maybe.”

“Am I doing that badly?”

He glances up at you then. “You’re not doing badly,” he admits, and he means every word. “You’re just… figuring things out.”

You huff again, but you don’t leave. Instead, you wander further into the room, pretending to examine the books on his shelf. Jungkook knows better than to push you, so he lets you roam in silence.

After a while, you plop down on the floor right beside him, your tail curling around your legs. “I don’t like it here,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“It’s too quiet,” you pick at a loose threat on the carpet. “And you’re boring.”

Jungkook bites back a laugh. “Boring, am I?”

“Yeah.” You glance up at him, your eyes unusually serious. “But… I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”

It’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given him, and Jungkook feels a small beam of hope. Maybe he’s starting to get through to you.

🐕

The weeks pass, and slowly, things begin to change.

You still have your moments, like when you chewed through one of his shoelaces because he refused to let you eat biscuits for breakfast, but they’re less frequent. You’ve stopped trashing the place quite so often, and sometimes, you even sit with him on the sofa without scowling the whole time.

You let him brush your tail once, and though you complained the entire time, Jungkook could tell you didn’t truly hate it.

And then there are the smaller moments that mean so much more. The way you hover in the kitchen while he cooks, pretending you’re not interested in what he’s making. The way you roam in his office, curling up on the floor like you just want to be near someone. The way you’ve started calling him by his name instead of “Doctor Boring”.

It’s these moments that make Jungkook realise something’s finally shifted, not just in you, but in him, too.

Because, he doesn’t want you to leave.

It hits him square in the face one evening as he’s watching you sprawl across the sofa, your legs dangling off the back and your ears twitching as you flick through the channels. The thought of you going to a new home, with someone else, feels incredibly wrong to him.

The day he’s supposed to start your adoption process, Jungkook can’t focus. You’re in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for God-knows-what, and he’s sitting at the table with his laptop, staring at the blank application form.

“You’re quiet,” you observe, glancing over your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lies, though it’s in vain.

You narrow your eyes at him, and he knows he’s been caught. You’re sharper than you let on, and it’s one of the things he’s come to admire about you.

“Spit it out.”

He takes a deep breath, deciding to just go for it. “I was supposed to start your adoption paperwork today.”

Your ears perk up slightly, but you don’t say anything.

“And I realised…” He hesitates, his heart pounding out of his mouth. “I don’t want you to go.”

Your cock your brows at that, nearly touching your hairline, and for a moment, you just stare at him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He stands up, crossing the room until he’s standing in front of you. “I want you to stay. Here. With me.”

You blink up at him. “Are you serious?”

“Completely, but only if you want to.”

There’s a long pause, and then, to his relief, you smile. It’s small and shy, but it’s unmistakable.

“I want to,” you nod softly.

Jungkook’s chest feels like it’s going to burst. “Good. Because I was really hoping you’d say that.”

You look away, but there’s a warmth in your eyes he’s never seen before.

“So, what now?” you ask with big eyes, turning and tilting your head.

“Now…” He hesitates, suddenly feeling like a nervous teenager. “Now I ask you on a date.”

“A date?” You giggle.

“Yeah,I mean, if we’re going to live together, we might as well see if we can survive a dinner out.”

You pretend to think about it, your tail swishing behind you. “Alright. But only if I get to pick the restaurant.”

“Deal.”

Before he can second-guess himself, Jungkook leans down and presses a soft, tentative kiss to your forehead. It’s brief, but the way you look up at him afterwards, ears twitching and cheeks flushed, tells him everything he needs to know.

You’re home.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[max1461]

This has mostly disappeared from my corner of the internet over the last few years, but it used to be the case that every once in a while some story would go around about a corporation or a government doing some fucked up shit in pursuit of their self-interest, and people in the comments and reblogs would act utterly aghast that said government or corporation would do such a thing.

This was always baffling to me, and I have only ever been able to interpret it as a sign of profound naivety. Of course, I too think it is awful, sad, and unjust when people are exploited, killed, abused or so on by the institutions of our society. But "aghastness" is not synonymous with these things, to be aghast is to be (or present yourself as) in some sense surprised. And surprise is wholly unwarranted here.

I suppose this is part of my worldview that feels very fundamental, it feels deeply obvious, and I struggle to figure out how to talk productively with people who did not get the memo: exploitation and abuse of others in pursuit of self-interest is in some sense the natural behavior of agents in any kind of competitive context. It requires a lot of effort and coordination to mitigate this behavior. We do not feel "aghast" when someone is bitten by a dog. Dogs bite people, idiot! And corporations exploit their workers, lie, cheat, and steal, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. And governments exploit and neglect their citizens, and go to war and kill and maim, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. Individual humans, as members of a social species for which cooperation is paramount to survival, have quite a lot of specific programming whose purpose seems to be to discourage us from doing these things (empathy, loyalty, etc. etc.), and yet very often we still do them!

I have relatives who have a hard time believing in US atrocities abroad, on the grounds that "Americans are the good guys, and the US just wouldn't do that". This is very stupid! Do you think the US got where it is today without cracking some eggs? Bullshit. There's never been a government or a military in the history of humanity that "just wouldn't do that". I sometimes see posts on here from tankies, defending Chinese or Soviet atrocities on the grounds that these things must be Western propaganda, a socialist government just wouldn't do that. Again, I find this so obviously false as to be essentially beneath engaging with. We don't live in a just world! Often, a very effective strategy for achieving whatever it is you're trying to achieve will involve treating people like shit. It is what it is.

I'm not trying to play defense for injustice here. Obviously I think we should do as much as we can to prevent these abuses. But I think that doing so must start with basic recognition of the following: it is the nature of institutions—being as competition between them is essentially unavoidable, and being as their decision processes are unavoidably removed from the face-to-face social context which is so load-bearing in motivating respectful treatment between individual humans—to abuse people in pursuit of their (perceived) self-interest. This behavior is mundane and expected. It can be mitigated in various ways, ideological and structural, but it will probably always be with us to some degree. To look at it and express shock in any capacity suggests a completely misguided understanding of how the world works.

This is the first and most important thing I ever learned about politics or society.

[kengan-daddies]

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma X Motherly! Older Female Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4

Anime : Baki: Son of Ogre Character : Baki Hanam Warning : Mention of child abuse, child neglect, possessiveness, possessive love

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Female Reader

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Female Reader

The rice cooker beeped, the smell of grilled fish hummed throughout the apartment, and the ingredients for miso soup laid out on the countertop everything was already chopped and ready, and the water was just now starting to boil. The sound of the TV playing in the background was a constant noise, the male news reporter speaking about the weather and anything else that may be of importance as of late. You sighed tiredly as you dumped the vegetables for the miso soup into the boiling water, placing the lid over it so that it could cook properly. You opened the grill on the stove, seeing the fish was just starting to brown. You closed it, looking over at the rice cooker and checking the timer.

It had a good few minutes left in it, you huffed as you walked over to the dining table, pulling a chair out you sat down, propping your chin up in your palm as you rested. 'As soon as this food is done and we eat, I'm taking my tired ass to bed.' You thought as you yawned. You looked over towards the living area, seeing Baki sitting at the small table, his back to you as he sat hunched over, papers scattered over the table as he worked on his homework. He was still in his school pants, he got comfortable, taking off his school top and folding it neatly he placed it on the couch, leaving him in his muscle shirt. You smiled at the sight, happy to see him living the life of a teen.

'He deserves to live a normal life, coming home and doing homework while mom cooks and cleans.' You thought as you watched him scratch his head in confusion and irritation at whatever he was struggling with on his homework. Your smile slightly faded as your gaze trailed along his muscular arms, seeing the scars that littered his skin. 'All those scars, all those years, trying to beat his father, gain his mother's love, to gain their affection... It's so unfair, it's so wrong.' You thought, still bitter with the bitch that was his unfortunate mother. You hated her so much, just thinking about her made your blood boil.

'That stupid bitch had the audacity to tell me, not to interfere with her son's life. "I'm his mother, so it's my job to oversee him how I see fit." ... That bitch... Poor Baki, that sad look on his face as he stared at me, the poor boy felt so bad about getting me in trouble with his mother. But he had no reason to feel bad, I would've faced his mother down a million times if it meant seeing him smile.' You thought your gaze downcast at the table surface, your other hand drew lazy circles with the pad of your pointer finger, you did it for so long till the tip of your finger felt numb. A large scared hand gently weighed on top of yours, stopping your hand. You blinked in surprise at the sudden hand, looking up you saw Baki standing behind you, a small smile on his face but worry could be seen in his eyes.

"You shouldn't do that, you'll wear down your skin." He said his hands scooping yours up in between his palms as he held your hand. "Your wrist will wither earlier with age, causing arthritis." He explained as he held your hand in one palm while the other rubbed your wrist gently. "You need to take care of your hands, Mom, you only got two, and they're beautiful." He said gently, his voice soft yet firm. "They're strong with pride, they're tough with resilience, yet they're still so soft with tenderness, still beautiful with love. Take care of your hands, Mom." He said. You stared up at him, your brain processing what he said, you looked down at his hand and you placed your other hand over his, stopping the rubbing on your wrist. "What about your hands, Baki, they're covered in scars and hard before their time."

You said, your fingers rubbing over his knuckles and the scars on his hand. He smiled. "These are the hands of a warrior who fights to protect, who fights to get stronger, who fights for others... My hands are supposed to be hard so that I can help you." He said. Your eyes softened and your rubbing stopped. "The strength, yes, the scars, no... Your hands are supposed to be still delicate yet strong, that wasn't a choice you were given." You said. Your hand tightens around his. He chuckled as he leaned down, his nose nuzzling into your hair. "It may not be, but it was a choice I chose to carry." He said. It was silent for a while, the both of you just enjoying each other's company, the sounds of the TV, the rice cooker, the water boiling, the sound of sizzling... All of that was the sound of home. This is what home was supposed to sound like.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

The house was quiet, the kitchen was clean, everyone was in their beds asleep... Except for one... Baki was up in his room, sitting on the floor deep in meditation, his ears open to everything around him. The crickets outside, the buzzing of the street lamps, the fluttering of the moth's wings, the sound of your even breaths as you slept... All these noises surrounded him, calming him. He opened his eyes and he stood up, a calming aura surrounding him. He stood there, staring at a pencil on his dresser, then in the blink of an eye he threw a sharp kick, he stood there for a moment, his eyes trained on the pencil on his dresser, watching, listening... He lowered his leg he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the sound of wood splitting sounded out, and he exhaled. He opened his eyes, looking at the pencil that was cut clean in half from the lead to the eraser.

He walked over to it silently, staring down at it. 'Soon, soon I'll be strong enough to protect you mom... I'll keep you safe, I won't let him learn of you, and even if he does, I'll be more than ready to protect you.' He thought, a determined glare in his eyes, the thoughts of the demon back flashing across his mind. He broke from his thoughts when he heard your breathing change, he looked over at his room door, listening intensely at the sound of you leaving your bed and tiredly shuffling over to your bathroom. He looked out the window when he heard a tap, his eyes sharp and on the defensive, but he relaxed when he saw who it was.

'Ah, master... It's good to see you... Sadly, I can't let you in... Mom would freak.' He thought in amusement as he bowed his head in respect at the roach outside on his window. He stood up straight once he heard it take flight, he sighed tiredly as he walked over to his bed, he laid down in it, his arms crossed behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. 'Tomorrow, I should start moving my clothes over here... I like it here better than 'home', this is an actual 'home' and not some cheap imitation. It's real... And I intend to soak it up to the fullest.' He thought. He looked over at his room door for a moment, before he rolled over on his side, his back facing the door, his body relaxing and his breathing evening out.

His door cracked open, and you looked in seeing him in bed asleep, you smiled as you walked over towards him. 'She's coming in... Why?' He thought as he lay there. You stopped by his bed, a smile on your face as you reached out to stroke his hair. 'She's stroking me?... I mean I'm not complaining, it feels really good... Damn, that's actually a really nice thing to feel... It's real relaxing... I could...' His thoughts trailed off abruptly, as the sound of light snoring took its place, you giggled softly. You just had a feeling that he was having a hard time sleeping, this seemed to prove it. 'A woman's intuition is never wrong.' You thought.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

You were in your bathroom, doing your hair, you were already dressed, makeup already on. You were deep in concentration making sure that your hair looked nice. You nearly jumped when Baki poked his head. "OOH!! You scared me." You said as you placed your hand over your heart, you stared at him in the mirror. He smiled sheepishly at your reflection. "Sorry about that." He said. You sighed as you went back to doing your hair a small smile on your face. "Good morning, Baki." You said, he smiled. "Good morning, mom." He said. He sounded so happy, just saying those few words and it made your heart flutter. You checked over your hair one last time nodding in acceptance as you turned towards the door.

He shuffled backwards as you walked out and he followed you like a curious child. You smiled sweetly as you walked down the stairs. "Did you sleep well?" You asked him as you walked towards the kitchen, he followed close behind. "Yeah, I did actually, I slept like a baby" he said in a pleased tone, he really did. It was probably the best sleep he ever gotten actually. You chuckled as you opened the fridge getting out eggs, green onions, and sausages. "That's good, I'm glad to hear that, Baki. I want you to always try and get a good night's sleep." You said, balancing all the objects in your hands as you closed the fridge with your hip. He watched you walk over to the counter as you placed everything down.

You reached up, and pulled the square-shaped frying pan down from its hook, putting it on the stove, and turning the heat up to 8. "Baki?" You asked. He perked up. "Yeah?" He questioned. "Can you get me the oil? It's over in the pantry, top shelf on the left." You said as you washed your hands, getting out knives, forks, and bowls. He nodded his head as he walked over to the door, opening it his eyes scanned the food that was inside. It was all sorts of foods, from easy prep to homemade. Seasonings and additives, condiments, and sugary coatings. His eyes soaked in everything as he looked up, seeing the oil. 'Damn, it's right where she said it was too.' He said as he reached up, his eyes widened when he realized that he nearly had to get on his toes to reach it.

'Wait, she reaches up here every day? She must get a chair or something to help her, why placed it so high though?' He thought as he pulled the bottle down. He closed the door and stepped over to you. He watched as you cracked the eggs into a large bowl, he saw 4 yolks in the bowl and you were reaching for another. "Here you go." He said holding the bottle. You looked over your shoulder and you smiled. "Yes, you can put some in the frying pan, the eye is already on." You said as you went back to cracking eggs. He walked to the stove taking the top off before he poured enough into the pan, watching as the oil slowly coated the bottom of the skillet.

'She's making breakfast for us... Should I ask her now?... I'm not sure why I'm hesitant on asking... Why am I so nervous?... I'm just gonna ask a simple question, and hopefully, she'll say yes.' He thought. He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt your hand touch his arm, gently pushing him to the side, he stepped over looking at you in question. "You wouldn't move when I asked you to, so I just decided to push on in, sorry about that." You said with a sheepish but teasing smile. He relaxed against the counter, his elbow resting on the top as he leaned into it. "Sorry, I was just thinking." He said in a soft voice. You looked over at him, the sound of sizzling loud as you poured in some of the yolk into the frying pan.

"Thinking about what?" You asked him. He seemed nervous, his other hand picking at the underside of the counter's edge. "Would it be an issue... If I moved in?" He asked tentatively. You stared at him for a moment before you looked over at the egg, you scooped your spatula under the omelet, rolling it up carefully, you left it at the end of the fryingpan as you poured in more yolk, the sizzling growing loud once more. You looked over at him, an excited gleam in your eyes. "No, Baki... It wouldn't be an issue at all. You can start the process now if you want. I'll just call in sick and you can take the day off school to complete it." You said. His eyes lit up and a bright smile graced his face. "Really!?" He said. You nodded and chuckled at his excitement. "Yes, really!! We can start as soon as we finish breakfast." You said.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

After breakfast, you and Baki got busy right away, he didn't live far so it made going to his place easy. You both went to the nearest storage unit, you bought a few nicely sized boxes, the both of you went to his place, folded the boxes, and got to work. He didn't have a lot of things, but it was enough to fill up five boxes. Two of his boxes contained his clothes, neatly folded and organized by you. One box had shirts and pants, and the other had socks and underwear. In another box, you placed all of his school supplies at the bottom and his hygienic products on top in a grocery bag. In the fourth box, you had somehow squeezed in a folded blanket, and his pillows, and even placed his shoes in a nice bag in the same box. In the fifth box, you placed all his dog's stuff in it. Dog food, bowls, leash, and bed.

He looked at all the boxes in wonder and amazement. "Wow... She was able to squeeze everything in, nice and neat... and even kept it clean and reasonable... I guess, this is what they call 'A Mother's Touch.' ... The ability to make the impossible possible." He mumbled to himself as he looked at the boxes, he looked up at you when he heard you sigh tiredly. Your back facing him as you whipped your arm over your forehead. Before you both left your home to come to his, you took off your makeup and put on a casual outfit. A large baggy shirt and some comfortable sweats. "Woo!! Finally done." You said tiredly, you looked down at the box with the dog things in it. You bent down to pick it up, but Baki's hand on your shoulder stopped you. You looked back at him in question.

"You can rest, I'll take it from here." He said. You stared at him in wonder as he gently pushed you aside, he picked up the box, placed it on another box, and then he picked those two boxes up and placed them on another box. He did that till all five boxes were stacked and then he picked them up with a little grunt. "Alright... I'm all packed." He said, a happy gleam in his eyes as he stared down at you happily. You chuckled and you shook your head putting all your weight on one leg and one hand on your hip. "You're something different Baki, you really are." You said fondly. He giggled boyishly. You turned away from him, rubbing his dog's head gently before you continued on to the doors. "Well come on then, we gotta get you settled in." You said as you slipped your shoes on, and slid the door open. He followed suit his dog not far behind. Once outside, he looked back at the place he once called home.

'For 7 years, I lived here for about 7 years... so many things happened while I lived here... both good and bad... it's been one hell of an adventure... and now, it's nothing more but a place to train at... maybe I'll turn it into a personal gym... I mean, I might as well... It'll be like a man cave in a way... Yeah, a man cave.' He thought as he stared at the building, the sound of you walking away caught his attention and he followed after you. He, his dog, and his mom all walked to their new home and life. A happy smile on his face, a pep in his step as he walked, his hair bounced and his eyes gleamed. 'When was the last time I was this happy?... When I met Kouze?... When I kissed her?... When I fight a new strong opponent?... When I win?...No... It was about 5 years ago now... when my mother died... I was sad but I was also happy... Happy that she was free from her torment, happy that he was free from her constant abuse and neglect... he felt relief for both him and for her... It sounded wrong but it also felt so right... That was the last time, I felt this happy.' He thought.

As he followed after you, your home... No... Their home could be seen ahead of them. 'Home... with a family... My dog, my mom, my own room, my own bed... it feels different now... I've always had my own, but it was my home... Now it's under someone else's roof, but it was still mine... it's so different, it's so domestic... I love it.' He thought as he followed you inside, he kicked his shoes off before he went in further, placing the boxes down on the floor. You smiled as you patted his back gently, the dog went to the couch and he flopped down with a yawn. You both looked at him for a while. "Well, glad to know you're already settled in." Baki said, you chuckled at his silliness as you walked past him and into the kitchen. "I'll fix you a snack, until then get your things settled in, the dog things can go on the balcony." You said pulling down a plate and a cup. He nodded his head as he picked up the first box, and he placed it next to the balcony door.

'I'll get his stuff settled in once I'm done with my own things.' He thought as he picked up the other four boxes before he walked upstairs with them.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

Baki flopped back on his back, his hair falling back from his face and forehead, a relaxed and pleased look on his face as he stared up at the ceiling. His room was finally officially his room... He's slept in this room many times throughout his younger teen years, finding refuge in your home, his make-believe life with you. Many times he's passed up on his training to spend many days with you. You were his ideal mother, his ideal home... You were his escape from reality. He'd leave his training behind for some time, never coming to his assigned weight training his mother gave him, never going home to that half-ass excuse of a home that his mother gave him. He'd seemingly vanish for days then he'd just reappear like nothing, expecting a lashing from his mother but he'd never care. He'd skip out on training, he'd miss out on getting stronger, just to be with you.

Just to get your affection, your hugs, your kisses, your comfort, your love. Everything he wanted his mother to give him, you would spoil him with. He grew reliant on you, he'd run to come see you after a training session, and he'd hug you, his head buried in your breasts, listening to your heartbeat, your arms wrapped around him tightly, fingers combing this hair gently. He'd lay there for hours in your arms, even falling asleep sometimes, he'd wake up on the couch, the smell of food wafting into his nose, seeing you in the kitchen, cooking up a meal for you both. You'd just happen to look around, seeing him up on the couch and you flash him your beautiful smile. 'I love that smile... It's so full of love, understanding, and acceptance. I love that smile, so much.' He thought, inhaling through his nostrils as he closed his eyes, relaxing on the mattress. 'I don't think... I'd never fall out of love with that woman... The woman who took the place and love of my birth mother... I love her so much.' He thought his eyes opening, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

"I love my mother... And I won't let anything happen to her... I'd kill anyone who'd even try and separate us... No matter who they are." He said.

[itsmeatballworld]

it ends in heartbreak: part 2

wc | 370 [short and sweet sad]

pairing | daryl dixon x f!reader

a/n 2.0 | still working on part 3 (the finale) but I wrote a drabble from Daryl's POV in the meantime! no beta bc I'm sick and cannot reread to save my life <3

[ part one ] - [ part three ]

Daryl Dixon knew he fucked up the moment he opened his mouth. It was automatic the way each sentence spewed out, leaving him little time to process the garbage he was saying.

Get it through your head, girl. You ain’t mine.

He sat up night after night hoping you’d come back and scream at him for what he said. He wanted you to get mad, make him admit he fucked up. But the more the days passed, the more he knew that would never happen.

You’re just some bitch I screwed.

He winced.

He’s thought about how mean he was to you every single day. That ghastly look across your face burned into his memories, scarring the perfect image he had of you. And it was all because of him. That expression was caused by his vile words and he couldn’t live with that. Even after all the shit he said to you, the thought of you heartbroken made him sick.

This ain’t real.

You’re better off without me anyway.

But... he meant every word he said. You are better off without him. People who tend to love him either get hurt or die – and for your safety, you’d be better off never knowing him.

So as time went on he kept his distance from you.

The next few weeks turned to months and years quickly. There was a pain in your eyes that Daryl couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he’d try. If you’d glance at him for a moment, all those memories—good and bad—come flooding back.

So he ignored you. Long car rides? If he could, he’d be on his bike riding far away from you. Dinner time? Daryl was eating in his quarters alone. Need another person for a run? Anybody but you was an option. Hell he’d take Eugene first before even thinking to ask you to tag along.

It was clear to everyone including Daryl that he had a hard time admitting when he was wrong. He could say that had to do with growing up with abusive parents and a neglectful brother, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he hurt you deeply.

And there was no going back.

-xx-

-xx-

taglist [this is anyone who asked to be tagged from pt 1 - if you'd like to be removed just message me!! ] @arubymachado @brokenrecorddd @love-zami @nixmhxx @just-always-tired @akasiamd @officiallyvioletz @leuriss

[meatonfork]

Hey hey firstly absolutely adore your writing!❤️

Could I request the task force 141 boys with a reader that may not have the best relationship with their family members?(brothers in particular)

No pressure at all if you're uncomfortable writing this!!

Shame

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pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, abuse

summary: guilt and shame plague grim as they remember their late family

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guilt and shame of the relief flooding your veins hurts more than the grief of loss.

obviously, you’re devastated they’re dead. it’s been five years. five years to process. five years to cope. five years to get over it.

but, you can’t help but feel relief knowing you’d never have to see them again.

your family may be dead, but the pain they put you through never did. it burned.

just the thought of them made your hands shake.

remembering the abuse you went through.

of course you loved them. they were your family.

your family was well known in your small town. three children and a perfect marriage. a little home on the outskirts of town, a pet or two. you were the perfect family. to the outside peeking in.

but, your mother was in over her head. you’d often wondered why she even had kids. why she put you through what she did. why did she take her anger out on you? did you not try hard enough? were you not good enough?

physical, mental and emotional abuse was common from her.

but the worst part? your father.

he was never there. physically, he was.

your father was emotionally unavailable.

when you were younger, he’d take you on little trips. work on cars, and go fishing with you. as you grew older, and your siblings came along, it changed. he hardened and gave up, letting your mother do as she pleased.

you often left the house and ran around town. taking walks, spending days at a friend’s house, getting odd jobs here and there.

when you joined the military, lying about your age, you found peace and another family. one that loved harder than the one you had in your hometown.

a few months in, and they were dead.

today was the five year anniversary of their deaths.

you felt relief.

relieved knowing your siblings never had to endure the pain of your mother’s abuse, or your fathers neglect.

relieved knowing you’d never have to go through it either.

but, so much shame in feeling this way. it rattled your bones, sank in your core, and nested there. often times, you’d find yourself wishing it was you instead.

there you lay in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. lights off, blinds closed.

the only sound that rang throughout the small room was your sniffles.

the thought of your little sister being fourteen and your little brother being sixteen by now slammed into your tired mind.

with shaky hands, you wiped your face in frustration.

a raspy groan pulled from your chest, and you sat up.

tears of anger pricked at the corners of your mind, and small yell ripped from your throat.

“FUCK.”

you stood and paced the room, hands finding their way to your messy hair.

you’d practically raised those kids. taking them to school in the morning after helping them get ready. making dinner for them when your parents refused. taking the blame for little things when your mother was on a rampage.

you didn’t even register your fist hitting the wall until you looked down and saw drywall on the floor, a gaping hole where your fist was.

“shit.” a hiss came from your mouth.

you cradled your hand as you walked into the hall.

red rimmed your eyes, deep purple bags sat below them. your freckles stood out from how tired you were, littering your face. your hair was a rat’s nest, not bothering to fix it before you left.

your soft stomps echoed in the hall, distracting you from the pain emitting from your knuckles.

stopping in front of a familiar room, you gave a slight knock after shuffling your feet in hesitation.

a long moment went by, and you kicked yourself for even coming this way.

turning around, you start back down the hall to your room before the sound of the door opening stopped you.

“ya need somethin’ kid?” his gruff voice sounded behind you.

a sigh left your chapped lips before you turned around.

“i- i need help with my hand.” you cleared your throat, and raised your right hand to show him the damage.

his uncovered eyes took in your small figure that somehow looked smaller in the moment.

brows quirked, he noticed you were sinking in on yourself. making yourself seem smaller. ghost thought you looked like a small child.

“what happened?”

“turns out, a wall is not a very good punching bag.” you tried to make light of the situation.

“c’mon.” his head nodded, and he opened the door wider for you.

you followed him in, and he took you to his desk.

“why’d ya punch the wall? johnny piss ya off?” he started shifting through his desk, looking for a med kit. his balaclava covered up to the bridge of his nose, and with the lack of face paint, you noted his eyes were brighter.

“uh, no. johnny didn’t do anything this time, don’t worry.” your legs shifted as you got more comfortable.

he gently grabbed your hand after setting the med kit down, and started wiping it with alcohol.

“ow.” you let out a little hiss at the sting.

“m’sorry.” he all but mumbled out, not meaning it.

“you gonna tell me what happened?”

“i didn’t mean to, didn’t realize i punched the wall til i saw part of it on the floor.” you shrugged, avoiding the actual question.

“not what i’m talking about, you know that.” his movement halted as he looked up at you from where he knelt on the floor.

you shifted your eyes from his as tears pooled in them.

“mm. i think i hate myself. not physically, that’s not the issue. i hate my brain. and i hate the way i feel things. i hate i’m not normal. i should be disgusted with myself for feeling this way, yet i can’t find a way to.” tears streamed down your face, hiccups coming out between breaths. your heart clenched. saying the words out loud made it all the more true.

“what’re you talkin’ bout?” he continued wiping the blood and dust from your hand, eyes flicking up to yours every so often.

“i’m so fucking relieved they’re dead. and i shouldn’t be. i should be sad. but, i can’t bring myself to feel that way. my family’s fucking dead and i’m okay with it.”

he didn’t say anything for a hot minute, and you sat there wondering if he hated you as much as you did.

he finished wrapping your hand in silence as you sat there, bouncing your knee.

ghost swiftly put the med kit back before turning to you once more. a sigh left his lips and his eyes flicked to yours.

“listen, kid. i know how it is. judging from this,” he points at your being, finger waving over your face and stiff body, “they weren’t the kindest to you. been there. if this brings you peace, let it happen. because it did for me.”

you didn’t say anything, letting his words sink in.

“my old man was real piece of shit. he had it comin’”

“yeah, but my brother and sister didn’t. they don’t. they were just little ones.” your throat closed a bit, a lump taking over.

“i’m sorry. i really am, kiddo.” his hand found your knee.

“it should’ve been me.” a whisper left your mouth.

“absolutely not. don’t say shit like that. it shouldn’t have been you, and it wasn’t. okay? we want you here.”

you choked back another sob.

your head thumped against his shoulder and you let the tears fall.

“i’m sorry.”

“why’re you sorry for, grim. nothin’ to be sorry for.” he was stiff, but his hand raised to your back, rubbing gently.

“i don’t know. for them. my siblings. i fucking raised them, protected them from my parents, kids at school, strangers at the store, yet i couldn’t keep them alive.” your voice was muffled in his shoulder.

“we can’t save everyone, kid. i couldn’t. don’t expect yourself to.”

“i know. it hurts.”

“you gotta feel it.”

“i don’t want to sometimes.”

he chuckled, shoulder bouncing your head a bit, “no one does, sweetheart. c’mere.”

his body raised, and he stood. with open arms, he beckoned you over to him.

wiping your face, you dove into is his arms, face smooshed into his chest.

arms wrapped around your smaller figure, his head leaning on yours.

“stayin’ here tonight?”

“if you’ll let me.” you pulled back and gave a soft smile.

his eyes crinkled as he gave you one back, hand rubbing up and down your back, “course, kid.”

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a/n: i really hope you enjoyed this :’) a little self projection on this one

[luneemeritus]

I was thinking about how I would imagine Husk's life before Hell... taking a lot of canon information as inspiration but still keeping my personal headcanons.

Ok so his name was Henry Oscar. A black-american man. To me, he died with 55 years old. Born in 1920, Los Angeles, and died in 1975. His parents were very neglectful and he had a special problem with his dad, that raised him with the typical abusive and sexist behaviour. Husk (or Henry) was a man, so he needed to be tough and hide all of his feelings, which as very difficult not only because of his human nature but also the world around him. Life was NOT easy for a black man in the 20's America. Still, he managed to be independent since youth and started his life working in casinos. So yes, he developed gambling addiction since he was young, but at first it didn't seem dangerous. He was just a lonely boy engaging in arts and games. Husk was a very talented man that became a great musician, magician and gambler, but he also had the inclination to be selfish and greedy due to how he was raised.

I also love to imagine him having a family. Meeting some girl in LA, marrying her and having a kid — a precious and beautiful little girl that he loved deeply. But the gambling, that was first one of his many talents and ways to have fun, was becoming a worse and worse addiction. He started to lose money, SO MUCH money, and damaged his family's financial stability. He also engaged with cheating and dangerous activities with not-so-good people. Loan sharks, mobsters, and criminals in general. He frequently engaged in violent fights with dangerous people, ending up either in jail for some days/weeks, or being chased and coerced by them — literally bringing danger to his family.

One day, obviously, his wife had enough. She was tired of loosing financial stability, having hers and her daughter's safety threatened by her husband's reckless behaviour. She also believed Husk was supposed to be strong and perfect all the time — typical-period sexism —, which led her to ask a divorce. The divorce process was painful to Husk; he truly loved his family, so much, but he knew it was his fault. Worse, his ex-wife did her best to keep him away from their daughter, because he was a lost cause in her eyes, and it didn't take too long for her to get married with another man. Husk was abandoned, replaced and pushed away from his daughter. And it was all his fault... his mental health only got worse and worse.

Now he was alone again. He saw no other choice but to continue that life style, now the alcohol took a great part of his routine and became a new addiction. His life was attached to the casinos, his only way of earning the minimal gain to pay his bills. So he fucked around — with women AND men — and gambled more and more, now that he had only himself to care about. His life wasn't entirely terrible, he traveled a lot because of the money he earned, but still, he missed his family. A lot. He couldn't see his precious daughter again, and yeah he did try to meet other people and love again... but it always failed. Everyone thought he was too damaged, too broken to be loved. A waste of time, always unsafe and unworthy. He couldn't get proper mental health treatment nor get over his addictions, so he started to believe that, indeed, it was all true, he was unworthy.

All of this destroyed Husk completely. But specially, his guilt. The guilt of what his reckless behaviour did to his family, the guilt of never being able to let go of his addictions, let go of his past... guilt of never being able to be a good partner for anyone. He thought it was all his fault, and that his fate was to be alone. Unfortunately, in 1973, he discovered he had cirrhosis. He didn't have money enough to pay the treatment. Then, Husk decided to just... give up. Give up of trying to be better, trying to be something he isn't, trying to have a normal and peaceful life. He went to a small hospital in LA and stayed there for the next two years, when he died. Alone and forgotten. No one ever cared to visit him, and he was burried as indigent because no one identified his body.

Now some other details about my headcanon: Husk/Henry was surprisingly open minded. He was basically raised in casinos, he met a lot of sex workers and queer, gender-non-confirming people. It didn't take him too long to realize he was queer himself, and to be fair, he was actually fine with that (as long as, you know, it was in secret because it WAS extremely dangerous to be openly queer at that time). Also, I've seen a lot of people commenting the fact that Husk hated cats when he was alive... and I really want to know if this is canon or not. Because I genuinely don't know, either way I don't headcanon him as hating cats.

Husk kinda made friends during his lifetime, but they were only interested in him when he had money. He was often earning a lot of money, and loosing all of it in like, one night of gambling. So his life was always unstable. The last he saw his daughter, she was nine years old. The feeling to be replaced as husband AND father was basically what fucked up his mental health the most. The problem of Husk's life was that he would always lose everything, even when he was close to true happiness. He lost his family, lost his mental and physical health, and even his soul. Obviously, someone so used to feel unworthy, to be lonely and not cared for, became a selfish and greedy person as an Overlord who didn't care about the consequences of his actions. He had power, therefore he had everything... until he didn't, until he lost everything again.

The Hotel is a new start for him. Finally, the chance to be that passionate man again, and maybe, even start a new family.