#tw impled abuse

[the-beetle-anon]

Well he’s wrong okay? You dont hit someone to punish them

That's what auntie used t'say 'fore she went away.

[acapelladitty]

Astarion x Reader: Nightmare

Summary - A short, fic in which Astarion has a very familiar nightmare and has to deal with the fallout. (tw: past abuse/impl. nc)

No, no, no. No! He had escaped. He was past this terrible life.

This couldn't be happe-

"He's yours to use as you see fit." Cazador laughed, his harsh grip of Astarion's coiffed hair burning his scalp with its sheer ferocity and strength. "And he'll be as pliant as a whore. Truly, there is no task which he is unfit to endure because he understands not to disappoint me."

His mind under the utter control of his master, Astarion could only scream his anguish internally as he nodded his consent against his will; his blank expression even going as far as to smile invitingly as his knees pressed into the cold stone of the floor with enough pressure to hurt.

It was a scene so woefully familiar that he could already feel the pains which he would endure over the coming hours. The stretch of his limbs, so overwrought that the slightest tension would snap the strong bone. The agony of being ripped apart, again and again as he were used as a common whore, a plaything for his masters whims. The tearing of his abused throat as it welcomed whatever was to be thrust within in as his lips unwilling fluttered with lustful encouragements and desperate pleas for more.

Always more.

With his masters open blessing, the small envoy of men descended upon him like ravenous wolves set loose upon a particularly defenceless sheep. They did not fear his strength, nor his fangs, as they saw him for what he was. Truly, he was unaware of which master they served but whatever news they had brought to Cazador was enough to please him into providing his favoured pet for their free use as thanks.

Besides, he had dared to question a direct order from his master and a transgression like that, a crime so great could not go unpunished.

Something raw snapped free of his throat as one of the men pushed his knees apart until the bones creaked and ached; the cadence of the noise was one which could easily be mistaken for the lust he was being forced to perform, like a marionette with its unseen strings toiling away, but as Cazador met his eye, Astarion could feel his masters glowing satisfaction at his hidden distress.

His cock moved involuntarily, growing hard under their rough strokes and calloused hands as scalding bile rose in his throat before being forced back down with desperate swallows. Naked as a babe, his pale skin was dull in the dim lighting as his hands remained pinned uselessly by his side.

In a blink, he was forced backwards the strength of the throw knocked the wind from his lungs. The livid scarring which encompassed the pale skin of his back pressed roughly against the stone, every small movement which disturbed it making it feel like he was being flayed alive anew as the first of the men reached for the latch of their trousers.

"Astarion." A sharp voice pulled him from his terrors with a violent start as his anxiety spiked at the sudden intrusion. Without thought, his mind still fighting against the violent ghosts of his past, his clawed fingers lashed out, finding instant satisfaction in the sensation of tearing flesh as he thrashed against the fabric of the thin bedroll which housed him.

He would never go back.

He would endure a thousand deaths before being brought to heel once more.

It was only when a familiar scent hit him, the sweet allure of the blood that had recently become his only ongoing source of sustence that his eyes snapped open in an instant, banishing his tormentors fully to the shadows of his mind.

In that same moment, he was confronted with the blurred face of his beloved as they gazed down at him, their body kneeling off to his side. A hand was messily clutched at their face, palm only just able to stem the trickling blood which flowed from the fresh set of gashes which his sharp nails had scored through them.

"Astarion!" They called again, voice urgent as a soft hand pressed against his chest to both center and calm him down. "It's me. Only me. And you're safe - you're safe here with me." The words were familiar and hushed, a respectful desire to not alert the others in camp to the situation at hand fully at war with their obvious desire to make him see reason before he could harm anyone further.

"My love?" He muttered, his hands retracting to his own chest as though scalded by what they had clearly done - the harm they had brought to the one who had only shown him kindness. "What in the hells- what ha-"

"You were having a nightmare." Pulling their hand from their face, shame lanced Astarion's heart like a spear as he surveyed the extent of the damage his enhanced strength had carved through their lovely skin. Even through the allure of the spilled blood, fresh bile rose in his throat as the tension in his body refused to dissipate.

"I was? Oh, that seems unlikely. Probably an overreaction on your part, darling."

Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained and at least an octave higher than it should have as he quickly deflected from his own perceived weakness. His chest felt painfully cold as his body attempted to curl in further on itself, phantom pains ghosting along his skin like a thousand tiny needles piercing him all at once with his many weaknesses and failings.

Refusing to rise to the bait, he couldn't bear to look his love in the eye as guilt stole the breath from his lungs. Not that he had never drawn their blood before, but like this? Something hot tickled at his eyes and he rapidly blinked away the onset of shameful tears which threatened him.

He was better than this.

"Would you like a story?"

A gentle hand placed itself on his forehead, allowing him to adjust to the touch as he tilted his head almost imperceptibly into it. It was an unspoken acknowledgement of his struggles, an acceptance that he didn't quite understand but found himself depserate to cling to in his weaker moments.

Eyes clamped shut, Astarion refused to open them as his head nodded in one swift, sharp movement.

In an instant, a warm body slipped down to join him on his bedroll, their side touching his enough that he could initiate as much contact as he could accommodate or tolerate while he settled in to listen to the offered story with deep, steadying breaths.

"A few years back, I was travelling by a little village very similar to the one we just passed through-"

[femboyhorror]

i've grown tired of this body - fall apart without me body

【A/N: cross-posted from my ao3! if you enjoy this feel free to check out my other works and consider buying me a coffee maybe. :3 this one shot came out of the blue. as you can probably guess by now this is just one big vent one shot that started out just being me wanting to make a fic about trans!dipper dealing with his period while i was having to deal with mine and ended up spiraling into me projecting my own experiences with my parents being awful and transphobic onto sir dippingsauce here and imagining what'd it be like having a found family. tw ahead for some impled/references child abuse of the verbal kind, transphobia from dipper's a+ parents, some semi graphic descriptions of the fun times that come with menstruation and one use of the word queer. (it's not used in the context of bigotry, btw!) big shout out to anyone out there dealing with the red beast, to my fellow cisn't individuals who may deal with it. i hope life is kind to you, that you have some rad people you can turn to comfort or at least get to have some nice snacks during these trying times. 】

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The bus carrying him back to the forests of Oregon rattles and shakes as it makes track across the winding roads. By the second hour he's feeling a decent amount of claustrophobia, his legs wave back and forth with a need to get up and walk and a spring in the seat he was in had popped out and was just scratching at him enough that it made him want to scream.

And yet despite the minor discomforts, a sense of comfort washes over him when he sees the familiar towering pine trees slowly replace the long stretching plains in the window. It was a feeling that he'd sorely missed throughout the last ten months and was never more evident until he saw the green of those trees. By the time the old weathered sign passed by, proudly proclaiming 'Welcome to Gravity Falls', a full smile spreads across his face. One that he didn't need to look to know that his sister shared with him.

They were finally back in Gravity Falls.

They were finally home.

Ignoring the shouted reminder from the bus driver to wait until the bus had fully stopped, the mystery twin duo practically flew out of their seats and rushed off the bus with their suitcases in hand and - in Mabel's case - pet pig at their side. By the bus stop, sporting warm smiles, were their Grunkles Stan and Ford.

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford!" The twins had greeted them in near unison. The two opened their arms just in time for their niblings to practically tackle them in a big hug tight enough to make a few parts of Stan's back in particular pop courtesy of Mabel.

"Whoa whoa there kids, you tryin' to kill your old man?!" Protested the old con-man, though his own smile betrayed his joy to see the two. Eventually the group hug came to an end and Stan helped the twins put their luggage into the Stanleymobile.

"Welcome back, my boy." These words, spoken to Dipper in a gentle, caring tone, made a wave of emotion swell in his heart and he barely kept himself from crying right then and there as he replied,

"I'm glad to be back."

'My boy' he thinks with pride.

Because that's who he was here. In Gravity Falls he wasn't expected to be the quiet and polite little girl. Instead he was a beloved great nephew. He was a protecting twin brother. He was Dipper Pines and the sense of joy he feels when he thinks this brings some tears of relief to his eyes.

If Ford notices his sudden burst of emotion then he chooses not to comment on it to Dipper's relief, and Stan soon pipes up as they all pile into his old car.

"Alright, I don't know about you guys but I'm hungry enough to eat one of those multi-headed cows. Why don't we go back to the shack so I can make us some…"

"Stancakes?" Mabel guesses with a bright smile.

"That's right! And Mabel's helping me out this time since Ford's still banned from the kitchen."

"For cosmo's sake, Stanley, the last time I burnt anything was months ago!"

"Yeah, and I still have no idea how you managed to set the entire kitchen on fire just by pouring cereal!"

"Oooh, good thing I brought my special rainbow glitter!"

"Pumpkin, that glitter is edible, right?"

Dipper relaxed during the car ride home, comfortably letting himself get lost in the familiar family banter and, at least for the moment, letting himself drift off and forget about all the pain from Piedmont.

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Breakfast back at the Shack was, as expected with the Pines, a lively affair. Mabel, naturally, manages to make her own Stancakes into what Dipper could only describe as a rainbow colored death wish of syrup and sprinkles with perhaps some renments of pancakes in there but he couldn't tell for sure. The four of them conversed about stories from their time apart, from their grunkles tales of their sea-faring adventures to Mabel providing stories from school such as amusing misadventures and some extracurricular activities they had gotten into.

Dipper tried to chime in as well, though he was somewhat distracted by a dull ache that had come up occassionally over the past few days. Radiating from his lower stomach area, it made it hard for Dipper to focus and he could barely manage to eat more than a single pancake despite having not eating anything that morning.

At one point he catches Ford giving him a look of concern but he simply waves him off, mouthing a silent 'I'm fine' to him.

Not long after breakfast was finished the twins took to their old room in the Mystery Shack's attic to unpack as their great uncle's assured them they could handle the dishes on their own.

"Hey, Dipper…?" Mabel's words, spoken in a tone unusually soft for the bubbly girl, break through the silence in the attic. "Don't you think we should tell Stan and Ford what ha-?"

"No." He quickly cuts in, harsher than he meant to and he immediately feels guilty but he doesn't doesn't doesn't want to think about Piedmont yet. "I just… I'm not ready… I just want to be Dipper a little longer…" The last part was barely above a whisper but still cuts through the silent attic like a shotgun blast.

"You are Dipper. To me, and to Ford and Stan. Nothing will ever make then treat you otherwise." The words 'unlike mom and dad' hang in the air, unsaid but understood by both twins. He wants to believe her, wants to trust that he'll always be seen as their great nephew but the echoing words of their parents make him falter.

"I will tell them, just…" He takes a deep, shaky breath. "…just not yet."

A beat passes and he almost expects Mabel to tell him that he should know by now to trust family, to tell him that honesty was the best policy and that he won't have to feel this weight on his chest if he just opened up to them.

"That's alright, just tell them when you're ready." She said instead.

The guilt remains.

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The dawn of what Mabel has dubbed their first official day of summer begins with the dull ache from before now returning as the sharp pain of many needles as well as an unwelcome crimson visitor.

And while Dipper had expected to have to deal with good old shark week after the pseudo-cramps he'd been feeling for the last few days it still never made the day it finally started any less difficult. As if he hadn't had a hard enough time with dysphoria before returning to Gravity Falls the world seemed to have it out for Dipper with a wholly unwanted visitor would add insult to injury.

But, after some extra time cleaning himself in the bathroom, he resolves to push away the pain and stress and makes his way down the creaky stairs of the Shack in a slow and shaky manner…

..and is immediately greeted by the distinct smell of smoke. Confused and maybe a little bit panicked, he follows the scent to the kitchen where he discovers the source; a pan of half charred yet somehow also half raw eggs. Holding the pan was Mabel, unsuccessfully trying to salvage the mess with Stan standing by. By Dipper's guess he was trying to teach Mabel to cook with… mixed results. Smiling at the duo's antics, he takes a seat at the table where he spots his great uncle Ford, nursing a cup of coffee and seemingly entirely unbothered by the disaster that is Stan's cooking lesson.

"Good morning, my boy." He greets Dipper with a kind smile, and the gender euphoria of being called 'my boy' is almost enough to make him forget about his current pain and discomfort. Keyword: almost. Seeming to notice this, Ford furrows his brows in a concerned manner. "Are you feeling quite alright, Dipper? You look pale?"

"Oh, uh, I'm fine, Grunkle Ford, just tired is all…" He lied, forcing himself to pick up and bite into an apple despite how little he wanted to eat just to further prove he was alright. As he robotically chews into the apple Ford continues talking.

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me on a little walk to check on the forests around here, but if you're not feeling well…"

"Nononononono! We can go for a walk!" He quickly cuts in to Ford's owlish surprise. As much as he - in his current state of mild to extreme pain - wanted to spend the day in bed reading, the idea of being alone in the attic felt awful. Even if the cramps would kill him, he really wants to spend more time with his great uncle.

"Alright then, we can go after breakfast if that's alright with you?" Dipper forces his pain away to smile back to Ford.

"Y-yeah! Sounds great, I'll go grab my shoes."

And so Ford watched his great nephew run out of the kitchen, and he frowns at the barely eaten apple as a sense of growing worry settles in his gut.

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The Gravity Falls forests were always a beauty to be able to behold. From the fantastical sorts of creatures and flora that called the woodland their home to even the more mundane sorts of plants and animals that shared the forest with the strange. This morning was no different as the sunlight filtered through the treetops above lit the forest in a soft light that made the whole place feel nothing short of enchanting.

Ford lead the way through the forest, chattering casually about the different points of interest and pointing out some of the newer pieces of intrigue that he thinks his great nephew will enjoy. And as hard as Dipper tries to focus on following and nodding along he can barely concentrate on his great uncle's words through the haze of pain he was drowning in.

After a few minutes of this that feel more like hours, Ford comes to a stop and looks back to Dipper, a frown speaking to deep worry on his face.

"Dipper, are you absolutely sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if you're ever hurt or sick, right?" Dipper had to near bite on the inside of his mouth to keep himself together. The genuine care his great uncle was showing him combined with the guilt he felt at ruining their walk on top of the pain that was still radiating through him made it hard to hold back the tears.

He wants to tell Ford that he was fine, maybe blame it on sleepiness again and keep walking, but a particularly sharp stabbing feeling hits and all he can do is lean pathetically against a nearby tree, trying to breathe through the sudden pain.

"Dipper! You need to tell me what's…" His great uncle's shout of alarm slowly trails off and it wasn't too long until the realization of why fills Dipper with pure shame. Running down his legs were bright red trails of his period blood.

He wants to disappear. He wants nothing more than a spontaneous bottomless pit to form underneath him and take him away right then and there. Unfortunately for him no such pits appear and he can only settle for locking his gaze onto the forest floor. Despite having outgrown the hero worship he held for his great uncle that fateful summer, Ford was still someone he held high respect and admiration for. And now that he's seen Dipper in such an embarrassing position - bleeding on himself in the middle of the woods - he doesn't know if he can ever face him again. He could only imagine the look of disappointment, disgust even.

His thoughts of self-loathing are cut off by a hand laid on his shoulder.

"Dipper, please look at me. I'm not mad at you, I just need you to tell me what's wrong." His great uncle's voice oddly seems to hold none of the disappointment or disgust he had expected. He chances a look up and Ford's expression was not one of frustration but one of a deep concern but also a look of knowing.

"It's… a lot to explain… can we go back to the Shack first?" He curses the way his voice wobbles as he voices this but Ford doesn't seem to mind, only nodding before helping him walk the short way back. No other words are exchanged on the way back and Dipper is quick to duck into the bathroom to clean himself up. A quick shower later and he leaves the bathroom to find a bottle of pain medication left on a nearby table along with a glass of water. A brief smile crosses Dipper's face as he can easily guess who left the items.

Soon enough the four Pines were all brought together in the kitchen as Dipper prepared for another difficult conversation, inwardly praying to a god he didn't believe in for things to go better the second time around.

"…My name wasn't always Dipper…" He slowly began, trying to relax his tense shoulders. "Growing up, I always felt like there was something wrong about me. I hated being called by my birthname, hated being called a girl. My parents would tell me that all girls feel that way, but it was more than that. Eventually I start to realize that I maybe wasn't a girl at all…" He chances a look back up at Stan and Ford to see their reactions. A part of him expected to see judgement but instead the two of them are attentive, waiting for Dipper to continue. Feeling a boost of confidence from this, he speaks again.

"I ended up discovering the term transgender, and right then I felt like things suddenly started to make sense. The way I've been feeling, the way I saw myself… and when my parents told me and Mabel that we were going to be going to visit a new town full of new people for the summer, I realized that was the perfect chance for me to try out being a boy for the first time. And that summer ended up being the first time in my life I felt like I was able to be myself." Just thinking about that first magical summer brought a smile to Dipper's face. He remembers the way his hands shook when he first introduces himself as Dipper. As Mabel's twin brother. Remembers the trials and tribulations he went through the summer, and yet despite it all he truly felt like he'd grown into a proud young man by the end of it all.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys sooner…" He finally says as he finishes his explanation. For a moment, the two older men seem to take this in before Stan speaks up.

"I'm glad you feel safe enough to tell us, kid, although I kinda knew you were trans already."

"Wait, you knew?!" Dipper shouts before he can stop himself. He suddenly starts to panic, wondering if he hadn't really passed as well as he thought he did. Stan quickly puts his hands up and puts his fears to rest as he adds in,

"I mean I was there when you two goobers were born! I'm not a spring chicken, Dipper. I've had my fair share of experiences with the gays and the queers. When you two got off the bus and you were introducing yourself as Mabel's twin brother Dipper, I thought to myself 'As long as the kid's happy, good on him!'"

"The concept of gender is, frankly, one that is much closer to a spectrum than most people realize. There are plenty of dimensions out there where gender is explored much more than here, for example I've been to one dimension where gender was traded with and bartered like a sort of currency!"

"What my nerd brother is trying to say," Stan finally cuts in, knowing Ford was likely to go on a full hour long tangent otherwise. "is that he's happy you felt safe enough to tell the both of us."

"Yes, of course, my boy!" A bright smile is spread across Dipper's face, the acceptance given from both his great uncles filling him with relief.

"See, Dipper? I just knew that our grunkles wouldn't have treated you like mom and dad did." His sister chimes in with her own knowing smile. Ford, however, quickly catches onto what she said.

"What do you mean 'like mom and dad', Mabel? Did your parents not take it well?" His question, although asked with no ill intentions, has the immediate effect of making both of the twin's moods fall. While Dipper shrinks in on himself, Mabel adopts a look of frustration and lets out a huff.

"Mom and dad are poopheads!" Ford and Stan both frown. That certainly didn't sound good. After a moment, Dipper speaks up.

"I… I hadn't told them about the whole 'being transgender' think before going to Gravity Falls. I was still just trying to figure it all out back then. Of course, they catch onto the new name I was using here. Not too long after me and Mabel came back they start questioning me about what was going on. Why I was hiding things from them…" He remembers that day all too well. Of being cornered with questions and not being able to rely on Mabel because she had been out with friends at the time. "I tried to explain to them how much happier I had been bit they wouldn't listen. They kept saying how their 'poor sweet daughter must have been brainwashed' and that 'it's just a phase you'll grow out of'…" Dipper then trailed off, his voice shaking more as he becomes more choked up. Mabel quickly scoots her chair closer, letting her brother lean on her for comfort.

"We hoped that they would end up coming around but they wouldn't even try to understand him. They kept using the wrong name and pronouns for him no matter how much we tried to correct them or ask them not to!" She angrily adds in. "One day they even told him that he should be grateful that he hadn't been thrown out!"

Knowing how unaccepted and uncared for their beloved nephew had been in the last ten months was already deeply troubling for Stan and Ford, but hearing these especially cruel words hit the two far too close to home. The hopes they had that Dipper and Mabel would at least have the caring and safe home that they never got were dashed, and they share a look of regret before turning to look at their niblings.

"Dipper, I… I'm so sorry your parents have been treating you like this. I had no idea."

"You're not going to send us back, are you?" Dipper asks quietly. At their great uncle's looks of confusion, Mabel explains.

"We… kind of didn't tell them we were visiting…" She admits as she diverts her eyes sheepishly.

"They tried to forbid us from coming back this summer, saying how this town 'corrupted me'," Her brother explains with air quotations and an eye roll. "So we both combined our allowances and bought some bus tickets without telling them." There it was.

This was certainly a difficult situation. It was only a matter of time before the twins' parents figured out where they went off too, and once they figured out that they were staying with Stan and Ford they would naturally demand they bring them straight back to California. And trying to keep them away could result in some legal trouble being sent their way.

And yet both Stanley and Stanford, unfortunately, had some personal experiences with being forced to hide who you were. Memories of hiding love letters, of repressing their true selves for fear of their old fashioned father finding out, and they refused to make their poor nephew suffer through the same type of hell. And thankfully, they had a whole town of people who would be willing to help them.

"Well there's no way I'm going to pay to be sending you dorks back, so it looks like you're stuck here." Stan declared gruffly, although it was obvious enough that he wanted his niblings to be at Gravity Falls just as much as the two of them wanted to be there.

"Dipper, in the time I've been back in this dimension I've seen you as nothing less than a brave and strong young man. And if your parents are too blinded by their own narrow-minded beliefs to see that, too, than at least know that you'll always be our amazing grandnephew." By now, Dipper was crying in earnest. Not the tears of frustration or sorrow that he had experienced all too often in Piedmont but tears of pure happiness. Stan and Ford both stand up and go to give their great nephew a hug.

"By the way, Dipper," Ford says after the hug ends. "I forgot to ask but did those pain meds I give you help.

"Oh, honestly I hadn't really thought about my cramps for a while, but now that I think about it they're much better. Thanks." Ford simply smiles.

"Don't mention it, my boy. It's the least I can do."

"If your cramps come back I probably got a heating pad somewhere in this place. Used it whenever my back hurt worse than usual." Stan chimes in.

"I heard there's going to be a cheesy movie marathon starting in a bit! Maybe we can grab some snacks, relax around Stan's chair and watch?" Dipper smiles at his sister's suggestion, feeling his appetite come back now that the worst of his pain was taken care of.

"Sounds good to me."

And so that's how the Pines family found themselves all settled around the living room, Dipper lounging comfortably on Stan's chair and Mabel settled on the floor while Stan and Ford sat leaned against the chair. While Ford and Dipper would take turns in pointing out the inaccuracies of the monster movies, ("Please, a tiny splinter like that would never take out that powerful of a vampire.") Stanley would more often make jokes about the cheesy effects ("Pshh, I could put together taxidermy parts that look more realistic than those werewolves!") and Mabel was happy to just happy to comment on dreamy actors and things she thought were cute. ("Aw, it's too bad that bat had to get shot, it was so adorable!") At one point Stan and Ford playfully argue over who would be able to defeat the most zombies which then devolves into the two throwing popcorn at each other.

And all the while a single thought stays in Dipper's head, bringing a sense of comfort with it: "I'm finally home."

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[cttncndi]

Life had always been whatever Gabriella had desired it to be. From her first cry, surrounded by the softest creamy pink cotton blanket money could buy, the impling girl desired nothing. She never ever had to ask. Gifts and glitters were always handed off when even the tiniest inkling of want or need shimmered across her eyes. And all that was ever asked of her, for all this luxury and contentment, was that she obeyed. Head down, mouth shut. A fetching adornment to caravan in front of rivals, family, and friends. Shown off. Appraised. Dangled in front, hungry mouths and eyes. A pound of prestigious flesh to be ogled until she could be upgraded from glided bird to bargaining chip. Just like her mother had been. Their family was only as powerful as it was now because her parent's marriage had caused the joining of two families of the Greed ring together through the unholy union.

( tw // sexual coercion, abuse, controlling and neglectful behavior from paternal figures , coping with sexual exploits )

And she would do the same. Or so that is what her family had planned. But how Gabriella saw her life panning out quickly became unaligned with whatever ideas or promises her father had made. She wanted freedom. She tried to do as she pleased, when she pleased, with whoever she pleased. But over the years, the palace she had once called home was melting into a cage. Shackled and clipped. Kept locked up till it was time to dance again, all under the watchful eye and heavy thumb of the head of the family. But she craved, despitefully, for affection and attention. And she found it. Through screens and voxnet, she found a community of desperate, hungry eyes, drooling mouths, and deep pockets. People who wanted her, the real her. Bare and hungry, as those who dropped those hefty donations for her to go longer, harder, and louder.

Now, a lot of people have turned their noses up at OnlyHorns. A cheap gimmick for cheap talent. A place for demons who couldn't actually make it in the adult film scene, one review said. But that place has given Gabbi everything she could have desired. A residence for her to speak and act and show who she really was. Unfiltered, unbound. And they liked her -- hell, some even said they loved her, among other crudely written declarations of devotion. Through her explicit community of chomping maws and fevered messages, there was this newfound liberation, and she started plotting her escape.

If there was one thing she had learned from her family, it was that men were most compliant with either greased palms or empty balls. Unfortunately, the bodyguard who caught her the night she decided to execute her master plan wanted both. But in all honesty, she was lucky it had been Jagger. He had never hidden his lingering gaze or snickering comments when her father was out of hearing the shot. And after the shark demon had gotten his fill, he all but carried her to the back entrance of the estate, letting her out like a rabbit to be hunted by hounds as he waved her off.

" Catch ya later, princess. "

[syrups-fanfic-cafe]

Can I request to take 🐺 as an anon marker? Also, I was wondering if you were familiar with Miraculous Ladybug?

Here’s my (actual) request tho! Could you do some Monika x Natsuki (Doki Doki Lit Club) headcanons? And maybe some Yuri x Natsuki ones? (If you aren’t able to do both I totally understand /gen /nm)

Thanks Syrup! You’re the best!!

Of course you can have that marker! And Sorry anon, but I don’t do Maraculous Ladybug, but I hope you like That Natsuri and Monisuki headcanons! And your welcome! I always try to make my requests as good as I can - Mod Syrup

Monisuki and Natsuri headcanons

Monisuki

After a few weeks in the literature club, Monika and Natsuki had become rather close, Monika slowly began to understand why Natsuki was the way she as, slowly learning about her home situation the more time they spent together.

Monika started packing snacks for Natsuki when she learned she wasn’t able to get her own lunch at school, giving her one everyday before their club meetings or whenever she see’s her at lunch.

Eventually, Monika starts inviting Natsuki over to eat dinner at her house. Natsuki was a bit nervous at first, but eventually caved in and agreed to go once a week, which then turned into every other week, which then turned into anytime Natsuki felt comfortable eating there.

Natsuki didn’t want to burden Monika too much by eating over there too much, but Monika’s parents reassured her that they were absolutely fine with Natsuki joining them if she wants to, they even started gaining a habit of setting up a spot at the table for her.

Natsuki was the first to catch feelings, and she couldn’t handle this at all. She was terrified that her father was gonna find out. Who knows what he would do if he found out she fell in love with another girl? He already wasn’t the kindest to her, and if he found out about this?

So, her solution? Tsundere levels to the max.

she started being much ruder to Monika than before, going over her house to eat less and less, and even just stopping entirely. But she found that the more she distanced herself from Monika, the more she felt herself falling more I love with her, which just made her feel worse.

Natsuki happened to accidentally confess when Monika confronted her about her change in behaviors and they got into an arguement. It was the mid arguement “Because I love you ok?!” Type of confession too.

Natsuki couldn’t help but feel herself become embarrassed as she started stumbling over her own words, realizing what she just said. Now she really screwed herself over, Monika surely had to hate her now.

”Oh Natsuki, why didn’t you just say so sooner?!” Monika said, giggling slightly as she smiled down at Natsuki, before hugging her tightly, before exclaiming “I love you too!”

Natsuki couldn’t help but blush and burry her face in Monika’s chest before stuttering out “Shut up, it’s not like I wanted you to live me back! I was just saying!”

Monika simply giggled before pulling away from Natsuki, letting her wander back off to read her manga. Monika made a mental note of Natsuki’s behavior changes at to make sure that Natsuki got fed everyday she could. It’s the least she could do if it meant keeping Natsuki safe and healthy.

Natsuri

No matter how much they would relate to eachother, Natsuki and Yuri always had some sort of disagreement. But oddley enough, they were always seen as the closest to in the club.

They always seems to be he ones to bond over eachothers emotions and thoughts, and could often be seen hanging out together, bonding over reading and stuff.

Natsuki, again, upon realizing her feelings was terrified of what her father would think. Though this time she knew she couldn’t just distance herself from Yuri, that would hurt Yuri too much, especially sense to her, they only had each other to rely on.

So instead, Natsuki became more quite and closed off, not distancing herself, but not exactly getting closer to Her. Yuri didn’t notice this change until maybe a week or so, in which she herself started developing feelings for Natsuki.

Yuri was of course the one to confess, sneaking a love poem into her manga collection that when summerized, ask Natsuki if they wanted to hang out outside of school sometimes as a date of sorts, with “yes or no” checkboxes at the bottom.

When Natsuki found it, she was hesitant to respond, but eventually did, throwing the peice of paper around a corner at Yuri, a red check in the yes box. She would’ve given the note or responded to Yuri in person, but she was still trying to come to terms with her own feelings.

This became how they communicated for a short while, Leaving Notes for eachother usually in the sequence of Yuri leaving the first note, and Natsuki throwing it back at her with the answer written in it.

It took quite awhile for them to actually start verbally talking to eachother again, and even longer after that for them to actually start dating. Of course, they never told the other club members about this, they felt a bit too embarrassed to tell them, and it’s not like they needed to know right.

Though that wouldn’t really matter as Sayori and Monika had thought the two were dating way before they actually got together.

[whump-only]

Poor animal is found by human.

Cw: animal whump, muzzling, former burn injuries, implied past abuse, throw up, nausea

A shadow suddenly fell over the animal, blocking the yellowed light from the street lamp.

“Hmm, now what are you?” the human said. The animal jolted with panic, suddenly pulled out of its mental fog. It began to desperately inch and wriggle itself toward the bush— escape, escape, escape— pushing down the flaring waves of white hot pain.

“Eh, eh. Not before I get a look at ya.” The human grabbed the animal by the fur on the back of its neck. The animal yelped in surprise and whimpered as the human lifted it up.

“Tsk. Who did this to you?” The human slipped a finger under the squirming animal’s collar, and ran their thumb over the animal’s belly and —aaaah ow—the burned area! The animal let out a halting growl but then clenched its jaw and switched to its begging whimper and whistle.

“Yes, you’re so mean, yes yes,” the human said softly, pouting.

mean? Confused, the animal gave the human its best doe-eyed look and tucked its tail between its legs. no mean. cute, cute, cute, look cute

The human swung the animal out away from their body, still gripping its scruff, and began walking towards their car. The animal’s head spun and it felt an overwhelming nausea.

mercy mercy mercy mercy! It whistled urgently.

The human rummaged through a box in the car.

“Ah ha! Here it is!” They pulled out a rubber band. Their hand suddenly gripped the animal’s muzzle closed. The animal jerked back but was held tightly as the elastic was wrapped around and around its muzzle. help help tight tight tight! The animal tried to push open its jaws but the rubber band held its mouth clamped shut. Panic flipped up in its chest. The animal shook its head back and forth, nostrils flaring. Huff! it exhaled in frustration.

“It works! No tasting me today, eh?”

The human plopped the animal on the passenger seat, and it collapsed there, wincing and unable to hold its weight up. It felt its stomach heave and bile pushed up into its mouth. The animal felt itself choking momentarily but quickly swallowed the bile back down. Good thing its stomach was empty.

“Stay.” The human started the car.

Animal almost laughed. Animal was going nowhere now.

The animal turned away from the human and curled up, tucking its nose away and curling in its bent tail. tail too short, it thought bitterly.

The animal had intended to die out in the parking lot, finally, in peace. But now... its heart flipped anxiously. The animal trembled. mercy mercy mercy, it prayed.

[fearofahumanplanet]

I finally, for the first time all year, have a guaranteed improvement in my life ahead of me, right as I'm on the edge.

It's just a couple months away, really. I should be able to survive just fine.

But I don't know. I haven't known anything for a while. My head is tearing me apart. I hate myself so much. I hate literally everything about myself, I hate that I've hurt and poisoned everyone I touch, I hate that I am functionally unable to be part of society because of a bunch of trauma and a life I didn't ask for.

I didn't ask for my parents to mold me into a little monster.

I am alone. Always will be. I push away everyone now. Have to. For my safety and theirs.

I feel physically ill, every day, from the paranoia, the feeling that I'm being hunted, from what I've done, from how monstrous I am. I've spent years trying to get better, trying everything under the sun, but this rot isn't going away.

I just want the pain to stop.

It feels so cold.

[edgyhomestuckkin-archive]

~Aesthetic for a dave who had ptsd bc of his br* but was comforted by john~ -mod dave~♡

[aftgficrec]

Hi!!!!!

Do you have any under-appreciated Andreil fic recs? Or any comfort andreil fluff??

Anyways, thanks for all the fic recs! Much much love and support!!!!!! 💗💗

Here are some good fluff and mild hurt/comfort andreil fics that you may have missed. -A

Roadside Motels (a The Little Things remix) by static_abyss [Rated M, 7108 Words, Complete, AFTG Remix 2020]

Neil's well aware that this is the first time he and Andrew are away from the others. And the idea that there's no one but Andrew for miles sets a low heat in Neil's stomach. They're by themselves on the road and Neil isn't sure what to expect. But he figures he'll know by the end of the week whether this trip was a good idea.

You Feel Like Home by BelovedPoison [Rated M, 12369 Words, Complete, AFTG Fall Exchange 2020]

Neil hadn't been sure on getting cats at first. Andrew was certain and firm in his desire. Neil on the other hand, worried he'd be a terrible cat parent. Turns out though, Sir and King are great, owning cats is great, even when they look you dead in the eyes and knock shit off the table like a fluffy asshole. And surprisingly they work wonders with Andrew. Cats are the perfect pet for Andrew and Neil hasn't fucked anything up, and he's pretty sure they are the perfect blend of caring and asshole to fit into their life, so yeah cats are good and Neil loves every minute with them.

So does Andrew but he'll stab anyone who isn't Neil that tries to say that. Seriously, ask Nicky, he knows.

burning bright right 'til the end by emmerrr [Rated T, 5300 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

A mysterious, potentially world-ending light appears in the sky, inching its way across the world and swallowing everything it touches.

As Neil desperately tries to keep ahead of it, Andrew tries to hold on to Neil.

tw: implied major character death

You Know I Never Forgot by RainbowObsidian [Rated M, 11734 Words, Complete, 2021, Locked]

Part 2 of The Charleston Chronicles

Topher was Andrew’s longest and least complicated relationship. The dusty brown fur-ball had followed Andrew home from the grocery store one cold fall day when he was a pup. Small and scruffy, ordinary, forgettable.

Topher was the reason Andrew’s writing career had taken off.

Topher was the reason Andrew could deal with the mindfuckery that was discovering he had a twin.

And Topher would be—if Andrew wasn’t Andrew—the reason he never forgot the first unmemorable, dusty creature he’d come across almost twenty years ago.

*

Or, a lifetime ago Andrew met a dusty and thoroughly (un)forgettable barista. A lifetime later he meets him again.

tw: pet death, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

the shuffling of cards by jostens_pitch [Rated T, 5039 Words, Complete, 2020]

“I don’t even know how to play cards.” Andrew said.

“That’s not funny,” Betsy sighed. “You’re hurting.”

Andrew stared blankly at her, he had already begun to imagine shuffling a deck of cards. “I’m content.”

“‘Content’ and ‘lonely’ are closely related, Andrew.”

-

non exy/mafia au where all andrew had known all his life was disappointments and despondency. he'd never wanted anything because he was always given nothing, but somehow neil had managed to become a something

told through unproductive therapy sessions and late night rooftop talks.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

The good omen of a dying money tree (claim by Nicky Hemmick). by melbopo [Rated T, 10000 Words, Complete, 2022]

Part 1 of the Foxglove Favors series

Looking for a cactus for your nightstand with needles that rival a knife for sharpness? A hedge that becomes toxic when unexpected guests try to scale it? A flower that changes color based on the mood of the room? Or maybe your request is different, a little more unique or even ultra specific, maybe it's for a plant that's something dangerous or poisonous or magical. For the right price, it might just become a reality.

To find out more, contact Foxglove Favors -specializing in protective plants.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction

Before Rainfall by tsauergrass [Rated G, 2417 Words, Complete, 2021]

On his path were traces Neil had left: a dent in the couch, a mug half-full with coffee on the table. They were eleven hours apart and neither of them celebrated Christmas, but still Neil had come.

teaching love to dance by Bookdancer [Rated T, 2068 Words, Complete, 2019]

On twilight nights, on aching ones, on sunny days with chirping birds or thunderstorms that split the sky, Neil liked to dance with Andrew.

Aka, 5 times Neil asked Andrew to dance and the 1 time Andrew asked first

A clear powder sky by tansie [Not Rated (we say T), 4134 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2022]

Andrew waits to meet someone he hasn't seen in a while.

Sink Into Your Sunlight by tasteofink [Not Rated, 33879 Words, Complete, 2019]

"These days are good as gold so I will never let go." 

There's a road trip, kisses, and learning to trust before they almost lose each other.

tw: violence, tw: kidnapping, tw: blood, tw: nightmares

low quay, no pressure (just hang with me and my weather) by scribbleb_red [Rated T, 11024 Words, Complete, 2021]

NB: Find the playlist for this fic here

A terrible storm. A daring rescue. For Andrew, fisherman by day and lifeboat crewmate of the RNLI's Sea Fox by night, it should all be in a day's work. But when it puts him face to face with Neil Josten, someone he thought he'd left firmly in the past, it does more than interrupt his quiet, seaside town life. Loosely inspired by Rose-Coloured Boy by Paramore.

tw: implied/referenced violence

the colour of love by moonflora [Rated E, 5112 Words, Complete, 2019]

perhaps this is how icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun and plummeted to his death.

NB: This comes with art  by @mdmaple on Twitter

tw: implied/referenced drug use, tw: blood, tw: vomit

Do I Wanna Know? by AfraidOfBananas [Rated M, 7091 Words, Complete, Aftg Mixtape Exchange 2021]

”It’s like Schrödinger’s Cat; If you open the box, you’ll find that the cat is either dead or alive. But as long as you keep the box closed, then the cat is both dead and alive at the same time because you don’t know the actual truth of what’s inside. Andrew could just ask Neil where they stand with each other, but Andrew’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer. What if Neil rejects him? As cliched as it sounds, Andrew doesn’t think he could handle that. Neil is the first person that Andrew had made a place for in his life after finding Nicky and Aaron. Andrew can’t imagine losing that.

So he’ll keep his thoughts to himself and lock the box tighter.”

tw: alcohol

ghostin' by jewelsofnight [Rated T, 13124 words, Complete, Aftg Exchange 2020]

His tone turned mocking. "What do you think a man can do in five years, to get past that?"

Neil looked directly at him this time, not backing down. "We do whatever we can to survive in that time. You weren't the only one, Andrew. I didn't actually leave by choice."

--

Neil Josten is a singer with two jobs, trying to make ends meet for another miserable winter. But every plan he has is turned upside down when he's unexpectedly reunited with a love from the past who wants answers for his lies. He may not believe in fate, but he thinks he may believe in the choices 'yes or no', and that family is not always chosen but sometimes found.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: ptsd

Art

the wind rises hug but andreil art by @306saint

this is always going to be yes art by @verdiris

I just really wanted to draw andreil art by @stillbeautifulstilldean

I didn’t know I was lonely ‘til I saw your face comic by @creekgods

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Aww, I love Flamo so much. I’m so glad he’s getting accommodations. He deserves them, even if he never expects it or thinks he doesn’t.

On the Ground 9 - Treasure

Sorry for the neglecting

Previous

Masterlist

CW: tiny whumpee, caretaker new whumper, internalized ableism

=-=

It had been less than a day since the fairy arrived but its cry was, sadly, already familiar. Joana turned her head to the table the little creature was on, it had covered itself with the handkerchief and was trying to muffle its sobs pitifully.

“I’ll be right there, little guy,” Joana announced, to be sure she wouldn’t scare the fairy with her sudden presence, the fairy still flinched at her words anyway but she couldn’t do anything about it now, “The children aren’t here as of now, but they will arrive soon.”

- - -

The giant walked closer and closer, Flamo could hear its steps and its voice, and soon he could see it, it was… —his face went hot remembering the whole “Mom” misunderstanding— Joana, it was Joana, this giant name is Joana, not Mom. Flamo wanted a mother, he wished fairies had mothers, he shooked his head at the thought, a mother would be ashamed of him at the best, no one deserved to have a child like this.

“Hello there little one,” Joana said with a soft, but loud, voice, and Flamo back away, “It’s okay, dear, it’s safe here. Want to go to the kitchen?”

Flamo had learned that the kitchen is where they cook and eat, and he knew this was a whole room away, hence, impossible for him to reach. He knew this situation too well.

“Come on Flamo, if you are hungry just come eat!” “Flamo! You can simply fly back to your place, don’t be like this.” 

Flamo swallowed hard, he could handle a while without food, he was fed well the day before after all, so before the giant could get annoyed with the lack of response he nodded, “Yes,” his weak voice said, now the giant will make the same comment everyone makes, it’ll humiliate it, maybe it will speak until he cries, he certainly is crying a lot the past day, and just then, hopefully, the giant would go away without hurting him.

“Okay, dear, come here,” Joana said, slowly placing her hand close so he could climb on it, “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

“You know I’ll be careful, Flamo, stop freaking out” “You are not scared, are you? We should thank us for showing you what flying feels like.”

Flamo wanted to beg for mercy, even being hungry was better than being held high and tossed around dangerously, but begging wouldn’t work since the giant wanted it, Flamo didn’t want to find out what would Joana do if he disobey, but his body didn’t seem to understand the situation and was refusing to let him move.

“I’m sorry,” he meant it, he was so sorry that he is like this, he covered his head; he wouldn’t be able to speak if Joana was looking at his face, “I’m- I’m afraid, of of high, high places, sorry, I won’t won’t try to resist but I can’t can’t- Grab me, please, but don’t, please, don’t make me climb your hand myself, I can’t I’m sorry but I can’t.”

Flamo waited for the pain, he certainly had made the giant angry, he certainly was going to be hurt for it, maybe Joana was going to tie him up with a string attached to the ceiling, it would be fit his deeds. He would pass out in fear he was sure.

“Oh, sorry little guy, I should’ve been more thoughtful,” Joana said with a —against all odds— soft and apologetic voice, “Wait in here for a bit.”

Flamo tried to feel the table under him, tried to feel how firm it was, and tried not to think what the giant was getting in the kitchen or why this was making so much noise.

“Here you go, excuse me I’ll lift the handkerchief,” the giant said, making Flamo’s heart race, “Now I promise I’ll make something better soon-” she started, putting a bowl over the table and putting Flamo in it, “But for now I can move you around with this, this way you won’t see the floor, so you hopefully won’t be too scared, and you can sit comfortably, okay?”

Joana didn’t give him time to answer before lifting the bowl, Flamo hugged himself with eyes tightly closed, he could feel it going up and moving, he waited for Joana to shake him and took him to the ground, and he had no idea how high in the air he was.

When he was about to beg he was —ever so softly— placed on another table, and Joana carefully took Flamo out of the bowl, “Here you go, I’m sorry if I scared you even more.”

Flamo just nodded, breathing was taking up all his energy at the moment, talking certainly would be possible in the next minutes, “Maybe you should drink some water to calm down, here, take this, Tim made those when you were sleeping.”

The fairy looked up scared, what would the giant make? How bad is it? What if- Whatever thought was going on stopped the moment Flamo saw what Joana was talking about. Humans use some weirdly-shaped sticks to eat, and those —also weirdly shaped— bowls to drink, they are all big, to comfortably fit their hands, but those things on Joana’s hand were too small for a human to use, they were just big enough to fit perfectly on Flamo’s hands.

“You can paint them yourself later, we like to do it here, but for now–” Joana put water in the little cup “–this will be enough for you to use.”

Flamo didn’t even think before taking the cup offered to him, his hands were shaking as he drank the cold water from it.

“Is there something wrong?” Joana asked hurriedly with a worried voice, “Why are you crying again? Are you hurting anywhere? Do you want-”

“Thank you,” Flamo cut, wiping his tear —happy tears for once— away, “Thank you, I- thank you so much for this, neither of you needs this, and” no one ever made something for me only, “this this means a lot, thank you. thank you,” Flamo said before holding the cup and the weird sticks close since they were, from now on, his treasure.

=-=

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated, @jadeocean46910, @cupcakes-and-pain, @wolfeyedwitch, @rose-pinkie, @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question, @latenightcupsofcoffee

[the-beetle-anon]

Kid, hurting people isnt good punishment, in fact its very bad for you

Father Paul said that's how we should be punished, so that's what my mom does.

[bluekappa]

blink and you'll miss it

Inspired by @salparadiselost Demon AU!

Read it on AO3!

TW: Child Abuse

Hands.

Large, rough hands that slapped against Jason’s backside repeatedly until his skin was red and sensitive. Hands that grabbed his hips so tight they bruised him.

Jason heard the smirk in Willis’ voice, the taunting tone as he rasped about how much Jason desired being beat like this. How it was the only food Jason would receive for the week, so he better enjoy it.

Willis loved Jason’s helplessness, bathing in the power and fire it gave him.

Jason screamed again as he felt a belt come down on his back instead of a hand, breaking the already sensitive skin. Blood trickled from the wounds. Jason barely fought the urge to throw up at the feeling.

“Daddy—Sir, please!” He sobbed. His vision was swarming and his limbs trembled violently as they struggled to hold his body up. Jason had surely blackout at some point, only jolting back to consciousness at the intense pain of Willis’ fingernails digging into his neck.

His mind was foggy and his muscles went uncomfortably lax because of the dominating hold. No matter how frantically he fought it and struggled, he couldn't get free.

The burning on his back was inescapable. He sobbed again as he tried and failed to suck air into his lungs. But the beating continued on and on, and Jason couldn’t escape and he could breathe. He was trapped.

He was never going to escape Willis or the hurt the Luciferean inflicted. White-hot agony spread through his body and another loud wail pushed itself out of his mouth and—

Jason gasped and sat up quickly. Utter darkness surrounded him so he couldn't make out a thing. A horrible panic built up in his stomach at his lack of information. He couldn't remember where he was. He swore he was just with Willis, he could still feel the phantom pains on his back, but Willis was nowhere to be found. His eyes flicked up and immediately his eyes latched onto the darkness in front of him that stood out from the rest.  A shadowy figure was sitting in front of him, and Jason shrieked at the proximity the figure had to him. The incubus scurried backward on his bed until his back hit the hard backboard. A pained shout escaped his mouth as the tears flowed heavily down his cheeks.

“Don’t, please,” Jason whimpered. He pulled the blanket up tightly to his chest, using it as a barrier from the unknown person. A high keen was stuck in his throat, the inner demon inside him viciously craving the protection of a pack. He swallowed the sound with a violent shudder.

“Jaylad,” a low, familiar voice whispered. “You’re safe.”

Jason desperately wanted to believe it, but he knew he would never be safe from his father. Willis always caught him and dragged him back to their hellhole of an apartment. Every time he tried to escape, the pain got worse. Jason stopped running away once Willis started beating his mother in his place as punishment.

He shook his head rapidly, trying to calm his bubbling sobs. It was another lie to get him pliant and easy. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t—

A tug.

His breath caught. A tug at his bonds, a familiar one, but more importantly, a safe one. It radiated nothing but concern and unwavering love.

“Bruce?” Jason whimpered, risking opening his eyes and truly looking at the figure in front of him. It was Bruce, unease painted Bruce’s face and his hand was frozen in the air, like he wanted to reach out to Jason but didn’t know if he could.

“You’re in the manor, baby. No one’s going to hurt you here,” Bruce promised. Jason nodded rapidly, his tears starting up again but for a different reason. He launched himself at Bruce, clinging to his father as he shook. Bruce wrapped his arms around Jason just as tightly, gently resting his head on Jason’s.

“Daddy,” Jason wept. He buried his head further into his father’s chest, knowing he was safe as long as he was close to Bruce.

“I’m here, my impling.”

Bruce rocked them slowly, rubbing a warm hand against Jason’s back. It felt nice, and Jason couldn’t help but grow drowsy at the feeling despite the fear plaguing him of closing his eyes.

“I think we should try to go back to sleep, Jaylad. Do you want to sleep with me for the rest of the night?”

Jason nodded without hesitation. He couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. Bruce shifted Jason slightly in his arms and stood. Jason purred sleepily against his father’s shoulder. The short walk to Bruce’s room was soothing and just the right level of calm Jason needed. He had to blink hard to keep his droopy eyes open.

Bruce gently deposited Jason on the bed and crawled in next to him. Now that they were back in bed though, Jason was afraid. He didn’t want to have any more nightmares. He didn’t want to be trapped with Willis again.

He stubbornly kept his eyes open, staring at the wall as Bruce pulled him close.

“Sleep, Jason,” Bruce murmured into the boy’s hair.

“Don’t want to,” Jason mumbled back.

Bruce shifted, rolling Jason over so he was now facing Bruce. Bruce sighed quietly and ran his large fingers through Jason’s hair at the exact pressure Jason liked.

The impling’s eyes fluttered as a loud purr broke from his throat.

“Chum, look at me,” Bruce requested, voice full of authority. Jason titled his head up so his half-lidded eyes met Bruce’s. Bruce blinked slowly, not breaking eye contact with Jason.

Jason whined half-heartedly as he snuggled closer to Bruce’s chest. “Not fair.”

Bruce’s lips quirked up, but he continued methodically slowly blinking at Jason, and Jason couldn’t help but mimic the motion, waves of exhaustion and comfort rolling over him in slow waves.

“I’ll keep you safe, Jaylad, I promise,” Bruce whispered. Jason nodded weakly.

Between the hand running through his hair, the warmth radiating from Bruce, and the loving, firm blinking Bruce was directed at him, Jason couldn’t help but give in to the pull of sleep.

His eyes slid shut, breath immediately evening out.

The last thing he felt was a light kiss to his forehead and love illuminating from the pack bonds.

My baby boy, my impling, I’ll keep you safe, my Jaylad.

[fictionkinfessions]

tw for suicide ment & abuse impl

does anyone else even kin from the breakfast club? let alone such a weirdly obscure timeline where i was gay and crushing /hard/ on john bender?

being friends with john was... interesting really. before i knew him on a better level i used to respect all forms of authority really. but seeing him that day during detention and just entirely oppose mr. vernons authority really changed something in me i guess.

i remember hanging with him once at a park because either of our parents seeing us with one another wouldve been hell for us both. anyways, we were hanging at a park late at night i believe, i had snuck out and his dad didnt really care where he went, the piece of shit. we were sitting on the swings or something and he was telling me about how he was glad i hadnt successfully killed myself. i remember agreeing with him, being glad to have became closer to john more than anything really.

also, despite judd nelson being 25 when the movie was produced, from what i remember i was 16 and he 17 turning 18.

- brian johnson, tbc [ #💘🕊️🍓 ]

[dandelionthoughts]

Use the words rumor, headline and photograph in your next story.

Use the words rumor, headline and photograph in your next story. From: @creativewritingprompts

Rumor, noun, a currently circulating story or report of uncertain or doubtful truth.

Have you heard the rumor about so and so? I heard they did this awful thing, and that terrible thing. That's the thing with rumors, they're often not true, and are seriously harmful. They usually start as mindless gossip, and then it snowballs, and grows bigger, and bigger, until people start believing the rumor to be the gospel truth. You often hear a biased argument, always one sided, and the person the rumor is about, very rarely gets to tell you their side of the story, so, I'm sure you've seen the headline, the photograph and the article about me, well, let me present you my side of the story.

It started as a typical evening after work, I worked as a servant for a large household, I was a valet, and though it was long hours, for little pay, I really enjoyed my work. I'd spend my evenings in the village public house, and then return back to the house before the butler locked up for the night. This particular night in question, I met a very beautiful girl at the public house, who told me she was a farmer's daughter, and we hit it off straight away, she had beautiful olive green eyes, and thick eyelashes which framed them. Her cheeks were rosy, and her hands, were beautifully tender though they didn't look well worked. We chatted for what seemed like hours, and we agreed to meet again. We continued our courtship for a number of weeks, we were genuinely falling in love with each other. We spoke about the prospect of marriage, and children, and I truly believed that we might have grown old together, and so I asked the butler if she was okay to come and stay for tea one night, and maybe stay over, we would be in separate beds of course, but I truly relished the time we spent together, and hoped it wouldn't be the last we spent together.

The night she stayed however, didn't go to plan, I visited her in the room she'd been given, and we got intimate. I fell asleep afterwards, and when I awoke in the morning, she wasn't there anymore, so after work, I went to go look for her, but I couldn't find her. Weeks started to pass and they soon turned to months, there was a lot of whispering, and gossiping happening below stairs, but I didn't know why. After trying to contact her by letter, and visiting the farm where she said she lived, I finally received correspondence from her;

'I do not wish to be contacted by you again. Please.. Leave me alone.'

I was beyond confused, we had gotten on so well, I couldn't understand why she wouldn't want to see me. I thought that we had a nice time, and that possibly, she could be the one.

The rumors and gossip grew when I received the letter, and it felt like everyone else was in on the joke, but me. I was called to the butler's room, and he presented a newspaper on the desk. The front headline read;

'Heir to the Mountford Estate sexually assaulted by a servant'

I sat there for a few moments, my mouth open so wide, if the wind had blown, I fear that it would of stayed that way. By the article, was a photograph of the very girl I had been courting. Fear and confusion ran through my mind, there was consent, we both wanted it, I know we both did, so why, why would she be telling people, the press especially that I assaulted her?

The butler told me that it was going to trial, and as a result, I could no longer work at the house. About an hour later, constables arrived at the back door to take me to the cell, where I am currently residing. The trial was arduous, and she played every bit the victim. My reputation, though I wasn't known by anyone before this happened, was being torn to shreds by her lawyer. They painted me to be a monster, who prayed on her from the moment I saw her, and that all I was ever interested in was her money.

I protested, and tried as hard as I could, my defence trying to persuade the courts that I knew nothing of her status before I met her, which was true, she told me she was a farmer's daughter, and I believed her. I loved her, why would I want to hurt her? The case went in her favour obviously, since I am imprisoned, but while I have been here, she came to visit. She wanted to explain, and I have written down in as much detail as I could remember, what she said to me:

Miss. Mountford – 'Hello.' She sits nervously, holding her hands tightly.

Myself – 'Hello. Why are you here?'

M.M – 'Well, I thought I should explain, it is my fault you are in this mess after all...' She gets teary.

Myself – 'That would be good. I thought that we were in love, and people who are in love, don't do this, I think we both know, I didn't hurt you.'

M.M – 'Yes. We were in love. I didn't lie to you there. I am sorry I wasn't honest about who I was. See, my family were having a long holiday up here from London, and so I wanted to have some fun. So, I went to the public house, and ended up meeting you, it wasn't planned, but I'm happy to have met you, even after everything that has transpired. My parents however, were not. They found out about us after the night I spent with you. They told me that I couldn't see you anymore. That if the press found out about a person of my class having relations with a servant, then our family would be in ruin. So, against my wishes, my father went to the press, and told them of our night, he twisted it, and poisoned it though. Told them that you had forced me against my will. You, unfortunately became our scapegoat. My father told me to play at being the victim at the trial, he told me to cry, and make the jury sympathise with me. I am dreadfully sorry that it has ended like this. I would have loved to be with you.' She glances at her servant, who looks towards the door. 'I should go. I am sorry, again.' She gets up and leaves.

So, editor, I have compiled this document so that you have an accurate description of what happened. I never assaulted Miss Mountford, nor would I any other person. I hope that my account of what happened will clear things up, and that it will undoubtedly prove, that I am innocent.

[the-beetle-anon]

Mean in what way..? Is she hurting you at home?

She has to. She says I'm bad.

[the-beetle-anon]

You should head back, Leo can help you get back home like reallyy fast!

No! Mom'll be mad if I bring others home. Not s'posed to. Mom'll be mean again and hurt my back.