#tw: parental neglect (kinda)

[injuredsoullessfrog]

@ my mother

[chaos-bringer-13]

Jazz's little. Her parents are super cool. They're ghost hunters! It sounds like something from a movie about future and scientists and supernatural beings and cool-looking tech. They have cool-looking tech at home. It's even cooler than tech in the movies.

Jazz also has a little brother. He's stupid but he's hers, and she will protect him from anything. Her brother is very small, he needs someone to protect him and teach him about the world.

She knows about the world. She understands their parents much better than him, and she can tell her brother when they shouldn't be distracted. She knows when they're upset and irritable, and she knows when they're too excited and being near them is dangerous because of all the inventions.

Jazz does a very good job keeping her little brother safe.

---

Jazz goes to school. Her teachers say that she's very smart, the best student in class, and very mature. Her parents are proud of her - when she manages to distract them from ghosts. Her brother is still kinda stupid and doesn't know how to properly fight food, but she's always there to protect him, because that's what older sisters do.

Her classmates seem to think that she's weird though. Some of them say mean things and call her a teacher's pet and a show-off. Jazz isn't sure why they think so because she's always trying to be friendly but maybe she's doing something wrong. She goes to the school library and finds a book about people and their communication.

It's a very interesting book.

---

Jazz is almost a teen. She's gotten better at communicating with people. The school library ran out of psychology books, and Jazz now has to go to the city library but that's fine. Human brain fascinates her.

She's been feeling like something is wrong about her though. She even thought that she was going crazy for a little bit. That probably wasn't true because she didn't match any symptoms but she was still worried.

Someone told her that being so good at lying and faking face expressions is not okay. That's probably not true, Jazz is pretty sure almost everyone can do that. Or maybe she's just being a prodigy again. It's a very good thing to be able to do after all. She can hide her emotions from her family when she's feeling sad. She wouldn't want to worry them, would she?

She'll have to research it.

---

Jazz is a teen. She now knows that her parents aren't actually that good. It's something that was really hard to accept but it did explain everything. Her parents are kinda bad at being parents, and they also don't really listen when she tries to explain it to them.

It's okay. She's almost an adult and Danny has her. She can take care of herself and her brother.

She learns everything she can about being a parent and a therapist and tries to use her knowledge. It's hard, but she's a Fenton, which means that she's very smart and determined. She pushes through, and trains on her classmates and herself.

In the evening she writes about her feelings in a journal. It's very important to be aware of her feelings because that's the first step to dealing with them.

She's experiencing sadness. And anger, actually, even though she doesn't like to admit that.

She writes "this family is a fucking mess" in her journal and then covers the paper with ink until the sentence is absolutely unreadable.

---

Jazz is sixteen, and her stupid parents opened the stupid portal, which means that they're even worse than usual. It's pretty much okay when they're just stuck in their stupid lab, making some stupid weapons. It's not that okay when they're out of the stupid lab, because they get their stupid inventions all over the stupid house, and stupid food comes to life, and she has to protect Danny from both their stupid weapons and stupid hotdogs, and oh god everything is so stupid.

She's experiencing anger.

She's also acting perfectly calm and almost cheerfully.

Jazz hates how perfect her fake smile is in the mirror.

---

Jazz is seventeen. She wants to put her headphones on and listen to some loud music. Jazz can't do that, because she gets anxious if she can't hear what's happening around her. She needs to be fully aware of her surroundings because she needs to be able to protect herself and her brother if weapons against ghosts become weapons against children again.

She thinks that it's not okay.

The house smells of ectoplasm, so she'll be extra careful when opening the fridge.

She thinks that she shouldn't know how ectoplasm smells.

Jazz should probably also warn Danny: her little brother's gotten better at fighting food but doesn't notice the smell of ectoplasm. Funny, considering his ghost sense.

Funny, considering that her brother is a half-ghost.

That her brother died.

That she failed at protecting him after all.

Jazz stops breathing to prevent herself from crying, and doesn't need oxygen for a few minutes too long.

Maybe she failed at protecting herself too.

---

Jazz is turning eighteen next month. Her parents are all of a sudden more attentive and caring, as if that can change their almost-absence during her whole life. She doesn't like their attention because she doesn't know how to deal with it. She doesn't even really think of them as parents anymore.

She thinks of them as a threat.

Once she's eighteen, she's gonna try to move out, and she's going to take Danny with her because it's not safe to leave him here. Maybe after she gets a good job and saves some money, she'll even get into therapy.

Jazz thinks that she needs therapy.

She's been having Bad Thoughts lately, and she doesn't write them down in her journal. Jazz stopped writing anything in there ever since she found out that Danny is a ghost. She just couldn't risk anyone finding that journal.

Jazz isn't sure if she should call those Bad Thoughts intrusive. They scare her, and they're Bad, but it could be just her normal thought process.

It's still definitely not normal.

---

Jazz is eighteen. Her parents are very excited, whispering to each other about how they found a perfect present for her, some surprise that she's gonna love.

She doesn't care.

Her little brother is late from school, and it's weird, because he was also super excited about giving her his present.

She's worried.

Her parents brush off her concern, say that Danny probably just got distracted talking with his friends. They don't listen when she says that Danny wouldn't get distracted like that on her birthday because he's not them, he actually cares about her, he doesn't forget her birthdays, and something has to be wrong for him to be that late.

They don't listen to her at all.

She's angry.

Her parents are excited and talk loudly about how they wanted to find a perfect gift for their favourite daughter, and how they managed to do it because they love her so much. She hates when they're excited. It only leads to problems.

They bring her to the lab because of course they do, why would they make a gift that is normal and isn't kept in the lab, right? They usher her in, so obviously proud of themselves.

She hates them.

And she hates them much, much more the next second, because the gift is her little brother in his ghost form, strapped to a table, unconscious and injured, and the smell of ectoplasm is strong in the lab because of his green blood dripping on the floor.

There's a cold part of her that analyses her feelings and tells her what emotions she's experiencing, and that part is very aware of thick black smoke of wrath twirling and twisting under her skin. It's suffocating, and she stops breathing as it invisibly fills her lungs, scared of letting it out.

There's a perfectly fake part of her that keeps the smile on her face as her parents gush about how hard it was to catch the ecto-scum, and what they can do to it - together with Jazz because they wanted to share this with their amazing daughter.

Jazz is black smoke of rage under perfect glass of calmness when she grabs Fenton anti-creep stick. The smile she learned to fake under any circumstances doesn't falter when Jazz brings the baseball bat down on her father's head. It grows a little bit wider when she hits her mother, because Jazz learned to smile brighter when she's hurt or sad or scared or angry - experiencing any "bad" emotion actually.

Jazz is angry when she grabs her weapon.

Jazz is furious when she kills her parents.

Jazz is worried when she checks her brother's wounds.

Jazz feels nothing when she rigs the portal to blow, walks out of the house and presses the button.

She is her parents' genius daughter after all, and she did listen when they were telling her about their inventions. Maybe it would have taken longer to do, but she had Bad Thoughts, and they probably weren't just intrusive after all, because she did what they told her and made it very easy to make a bomb out of a portal. Just in case. Her parents were a threat, and Jazz was smart enough to prepare to dealing with threats, and she was smart enough to make it look like the threats dealt with themselves.

She really hoped she wouldn't have to use that button though.

---

Jazz is nineteen. Her sort-of-friends at uni offer to go to a restaurant, and she tells them that she doesn't celebrate her birthdays. There's a noise of all of them saying that maybe she should try, noise that she really should have expected, because humans are always so excited about any holidays, it's hard for them to understand that someone might not like them. It's not hard to stop that noise though. They shut up very quickly when Jazz says that she had "a very traumatic event" on her birthday.

Good. She doesn't like loud people.

Jazz goes home to her little brother. He's sad because his parents died in an awful explosion a year ago. He's still trying to smile because it's also her birthday, and Jazz is very happy that he's bad at faking a smile.

It means that he won't end up like her.

Jazz hugs her little brother, and he gives her a little present that she adores, and then they sit in silence and eat some takeout. It's very nice.

She never tells Danny that their parents died before the explosion, and that the explosion wasn't an accident, and that their ghosts did form after that because of all the ecto-contamination they had, but she made sure this wouldn't become a problem. She never tells him what she's done, because that would hurt her little brother, and she would never let anything hurt him.

Jazz will protect her little brother from anything.

[outoftheirdifferences]

Open starter (that I meant to write on the day itself but ran out of time!) Feel free to come interact with Lauren!

Christmas day was... never a time when she wanted to be around home.

It wasn't that anything bad happened around home. Rather, it was what didn't happen, what never happened. Sure, there were presents, there were a few of the trappings of the holiday season.

There was never the love there. She and her dad both knew that he was just going through the motions to appease her; he'd never wanted a kid and even so many years later didn't know what to do with the one that had been thrust on him. He was eternally distant, and she'd long ago learned better than to try and change that.

And that was the reason she couldn't stand to be at home. Not on a day like this.

The park, though... it may not have been much, but that, at least, was always here for her. The one haven of nature in the oppressive grey landscape of the city, the place where she'd first met her best friend, and the one place she genuinely loved. Her sneakers scuffed through the light layer of snow that had made it through the city's protective dome, and she relished the fresh breeze even as its chill drove her to pull her very worn hoodie tighter around her.

Maybe later she'd text one of her (very small number of) friends and see if any of them were free to hang out for an hour or so. But for now, this was the only place she wanted to be.

Up ahead, she thought she could see someone moving her way. The park was quieter than normal, but not deserted even on Christmas. Dog walkers in particular still passed to and fro, occasionally wishing her a Merry Christmas in passing that she could only accept with forced cheer; and she prepared herself to do so once more if this next passer-by should speak as well.

[lilac-read]

Flat Stanley is a weird book.

First off, Stanley is dead. He's literally just dead. Buddy got crushed in his sleep by a bulletin board. He is legit described as being half an inch thick. Mans is DEAD.

Secondly, THERES JUST SUBTLE POLICE COMMENTARY???? Mrs. Lambchop gets called cuckoo by the police, but when they realize that she wasn't lying about her son being at the bottom of a storm drain, she tells them to think before they speak, and they're just like, "hey! Yeah! We should start doing that" Am I reading too much into this, or is that just a genuine commentary???

Third, WHO JUST MAILS THEIR CHILD???? WHAT IS THIS? A CLICKBAIT YOUTUBE FAMILY CHANNEL VIDEO FROM 2016??? THAT'S HORRIBLY IRRESPONSIBLE!!!!

Fourth, why is no one in the story addressing how hard this has made things for Arthur? Arthur is jealous because his brother is flat, but like, he's a child! Arthur is trying his best here. Don't be a jerk to Arthur because he wants to be cool and have friends.

And another thing, Mr. Lambchop is a horrible husband. Mrs. Lambchop tells him that she's having a hard time with the boys, and that he has no idea because he's always at work, and he just DISMISSES HER FEELINGS! HE BASICALLY SAYS THAT BOYS WILL BE BOYS AND CALLS IT A NIGHT!

The whole museum plot came out of left field and didn't really make much sense tbh. Why is this child being used to catch most-likely dangerous art thieves? Like, I get that it was his idea, but DONT LET THE CHILD BE STOLEN TO CATCH THESE THIEVES!!!! THIS WHOLE BOOK IS CHILD ABUSE!!!! ALSO, THIS WOULD NEVER WORK! NO CHILD WOULD BE ABLE TO SIT STILL FOR THAT LONG WITHOUT MOVING HIS EYES AROUND OR BLINKING!!!

These are the least responseable parents ever. 'lets let our child stand on spikes all night in a museum that's been getting robbed lately' OH YEAH, GREAT IDEA, FANTASTIC PARENTING LAMBCHOPS!!!

Also, the noses in the pictures are weird, what's up with that? Like, get it I guess but they're just not a very aesthetic choice.

BUT ANYWAYS, THE FACT THAT THE THIEVES LITERALLY SAID THAY THEY WOULD KILL A PERSON IF THEY TRIED TO CATCH THEM!! WHAT THE HECK!!!!!

I feel like when my elementary school was into Flat Stanley, we kinda missed the anti-bullying point. We literally started calling one kid Flat Stanley lol. Also, Mrs. Lambchop spitting facts, don't make fun of people based on religion, race, or body shape.

Arthur is such a good brother, and I feel like he doesn't get enough credit. He's so supportive of Stanley, and I feel like nobody ever mentions Arthur Lambchop. I didn't even remember him until I read the book again. He really tries so hard to help Stanley get back to normal. But being on the internet for so long has made that scene unreadable (my brain hurts)

I feel like Stanley going back to normal isn't a great ending though. It just kind of invalidates everything that just happened in the book. The whole point is gone.

And one last thing. We need to address why the bulletin board fell on him in the first place. His parents are just the worst.

thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[thebekashow]

beka lore-

[pumpkinspiceshiplover]

I just want a family.

Someone to love.

Someone to protect.

Everyone fills that role, but you.

They protect.

They love.

But it's not enough.

I don't want them.

I want you.

But you were never there.

And you never will be.

[meathunt]

Vampire dads idea :>

TW Yandere, forced transformation, in a way, kinda parental neglect?, light kidnapping ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------ You open your eyes.

Everything is too much, the sounds, the smells, the lights. It feels like it's attacking every nerve in your being. You try to drown your discomfort by holding the ends of your soft sweater harder, is not really working, but at least it distracts you from that hollowness in your chest.

You close your eyes, leaning on the wall of the alleyway you are currently hiding in, letting the cold air of the night bring you some comfort.

It was the first time you were out of your apartment in a month, still being able to remember the night your life went to shit.

You were just finished the shift that you traded with a coworker, making decent money as a waiter in an upscale restaurant. And you were happy to go back to your apartment and proceed to past out on your bed.

That's when the sensation of being watched started. But you were in an active part of town, so you decided to just speed up your pace to get home and don’t really worry about it. After all, who would try to attack you with so many people around?

You felt confident on that decision, until someone grabbed your arm, and trying to look at the one doing it was the last thing you remember for a while. Next thing you knew you were sitting at a bar, in front of a drink that smelled way more flammable than drinkable.

You were just about to get up when a smooth voice captured your total attention. "Hey sweets, finish your drink, weren't you thirsty?" for some reason you couldn't really focus on the strangers face. But their eyes, those deep wine eyes stayed with you.

Swallowing, you thought your throat was very dry, and next thing you knew, you were downing a drink once, twice, until you lost count of how many glasses you had. When you next regained awareness you were in your bed, and everything was spinning.

"I think you are nice and ready for me Sweets?" The nice voice was with you, and something cold was sneaking around your chest, and it grabbed at the collar of your shirt, playing with it before tearing it open.

"A sweet lil' drink, just for me, how lucky" and with that, you felt your neck being stabbed twice, two sharp things buried themselves on you, and an explosion of pain assaulted your senses, your mouth locked in a silent scream as you could feel how your cheeks dampened by the tears and cold sweat from the pain.

A chilling coldness started to envelop you from your core, and slowly grew, overtaking every part in your body.

Weakly trying to fight the person on top of you, but being unable to do much, and the last thing you heard before being swallowed by darkness was a mocking laugh. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next time you woke up it felt terrible, your whole body hurt, and you felt in a constant state of fever, with a killer headache to seal the deal.

Everything felt too much, the clothes on you felt like sandpaper caressing your skin, you swear you could hear the water flowing in the pipes on the walls, the sunlight coming from your window felt way too bright and hot. It was overwhelming, but worst of all there was this hollowness in your chest that was growing and threatening to swallow you whole.

Something important was missing. You knew it in your bones but you couldn't determinate what. And that sensation was all consuming. Small sobs escaped from your dry throat and a broken kind of chirp came from your chest.

Just once.

And there was no answer.

That fact destroyed your declining mental state. Suddenly those strange sounds were cutting between your wails growing more desperate by the second.

The weird animal instinct inside you grew desperate for an answer that never came, you weren't sure how long you stayed there crying your eyes out until you tired yourself out enough to fall asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next few weeks were nothing short from hell on earth.

Soon you felt hungry, and trying to stand up was a task of its own, you felt like you lost control of your motor skills, at the point that it felt like you were re-learning how to walk.

When you finally reached the kitchen, the humming of the refrigerator grating on your ears, and the smell of food both overwhelming and alluring to you. Almost in animal desperation you ate the left overs you had with gusto. When you felt satiated enough your eyes started to feel heavy.

That broken chirp coming back against your wishes, and a new wave of sadness enveloped you. A constant "scared, scared, alone" in the back of your mind. Dragging your tired body back to your bed while the tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. Picking a faint scent in one of the pillows in your bed, and your body launched itself to it. Bringing that stupid voice in the back of your mind to a stop. Some kind of relief washing down you, and with shaking hands you hugged the pillow closer, almost instantly falling asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *. At some point of the week you accidentally destroyed your phone, too loud with pre-programmed alarms, it didn't survive being thrown at a wall.

It wasn't until the middle of the second week that things stopped being so overwhelming to the point of freezing you in place. Now they were just overwhelming enough to give you problems thinking, count your blessings right?

You decided to get rid of the uncomfortable clothes you were in, choosing a soft and fluffy sheep themed pajama that you usually saved for when it was really cold outside. But that cutesy white texture was the only thing in your closet that didn't make you want to crawl out of your own skin, plus it gave you some kind of comfort.

By the end of that week a thirst was starting to grow on you, but it didn't matter what you drank it wasn't satiated.

That was until the end of third week when you tried to cook something for yourself, it was a complete disaster. And you didn't finish even cooking the vegetables.

But after a crying fit you realized something smelled...... nice.

An odd thing to notice when you failed so miserably at cooking anything substantial, but trying to follow that lead you ended up in front of the block of raw meat that was finishing de-frosting on the counter. Its mere sight disgusted you, but your body was telling you to eat it, that you needed you satiate the thirst.

You resisted, even from the cloud that currently was your mind you started to think that you were starting to lose your mind to even consider doing it.

You cracked at the beginning of the fourth week, the thirst being just too much. Accompanied by pains all around your body and a realization of how sensitive your teeth and fingers started to become.

At the end of the fourth week you felt very out of it.

The scent that you found on your first week was completely gone from the pillow, a fact that every time you remember, you started to tear up about it.

Your food supply also slowly started to disappear until you had to resort to eating raw vegetables. Something that definitely was not sitting right in your stomach, if puking that morning was any sign.

That bring you to your predicament.

Looking like you were sick, your skin being flushed but looking very pale, your legs shivering from trying to stand up for a long amount of time. Red and puffy teary eyes that weren't focusing correctly on your environment. Hiding in an alleyway in your pajamas because you tried to go to the store to buy more food, but underestimated how overwhelming everything outside was.

The sights, the voices, the new smells made you feel very on edge and anxious.

Like you weren't safe.

Like you were lost.

Like you were so terribly alone.

That stupid sound bubbling inside you, while you tried to contain it. Biting your tongue and pushing it down as best you could. It's easy, you reminded yourself, just one foot in front of the other, and to go back to your apartment, food can wait till tomorrow.

While you were trying to hype yourself up, a sudden, overwhelming feeling started to cover you. As if you were being watched. Your breathing hitched and you tried to scan your surroundings to no avail. You can't hear anything out of the normal thing you were already hearing, but you are sure you felt something near you.

A sound cached your attention, but before you could even try to look for the direction it came from, someone grabbed you and pushed you against the end of the alleyway.

"Do they not teach you new-bloods any manners?"

A towering figure stands before you, broad shoulders and wavy dark blond hair, a full beard adorning an intimidating face. You can make out some scars in the hand that holds you by the collar of your shirt. Deep amber eyes pin you in place.

He has an air on him that screams danger.

The voice in your head telling you that you are completely outmatched by this man, internally screaming danger, danger, alone, scared, help-

"Hey, I'm talking to you" He says with an authoritative tone, making you snap out of your inner monologue and instinctively coil on yourself, or at least attempt to. His hand goes to your chin. Forcing your head to the side to get a better look at your neck “Really, who even is your maker-“

His eyes stay stuck looking at the fading mark that is barely visible at this point where the bite mark was made. You can feel him gaze scanning you from head to toe once more, and his grip on your collar started to soften.

He starts asking you more questions, one right after the other about things you don’t understand, too overwhelmed by everything happening, the adrenaline that was rushing through your body starting to disappear, the situation eerily similar at the one with the man that did this to you.

Your eyes filled with tears and those chirps came back full force, mixing with your whimpers and sobs.

Those sounds took the man by surprise, his eyes turning more soft and he let go of your shirt completely, and proceeds to lift you, cradling you to his chest and rubbing circles while shivers wreck your frame, your sobbing turning to all out wailing. “Hey, hey buddy it’s okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, I wasn’t expecting a kid like you being here all alone. Hell, you shouldn’t be here, period”

You feel terrified of this man, threatened even, but it has been so long since someone held you like this, your instincts fighting between the longing for security and comfort with the consuming fear of someone that you don't know getting closer to you. At the end you go almost in autopilot, nuzzling into his chest while trembling like a leaf.

He takes out his cellphone and starting to walk out of the alleyway. He calls someone, but you feel a bit out of it to really understand what was being said, just small parts, Thomas…surprise.... abandoned.... home..., drowned by the sounds of everything around you.

Yeah, you would like to go home, the sounds of the streets in the middle of the night are getting to you, and in reflex you try to hide deeper into the man's chest. A hand comes, running his fingers in your hair while he finishes his call.

"It's okay buddy, we are getting you somewhere safe" You feel tempted to trust him.

.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

After what feels like a blink you land on a balcony.

You feel less overwhelmed, this place is way more quiet, without overly bright lights or overwhelming sounds and smells, just the lingering scent of the man carrying you and another one that makes you squirm in place.

Now that your mind feels a bit clearer.  You don't even know the name of the guy that has been carrying you around like you weighted nothing.

"H-hey, uhm.." your voice feels scratchy from disuse. He turns to look at you, and smiles. before you can ask he answers" Elias" "What?" "My name, I'm Elias Cromwell, sorry little thing I haven't asked, what's your name?" He asks softly

You are a bit taken by surprise at being spoken so nicely from the guy that gave you quite a fright when you first encountered him. " I'm (Y/N). Can I ask, err, where are we?"

"Well kiddo, we are at my house. And you" He boops your nose "Are about to meet someone very special"

Elias slides the glass door to enter the house and instinctually you straighten up, the second scent that doesn't belong to Elias feels even more oppressive. You cling harder to him, almost clawing at his back, looking up at him in fear.

“Well, who is this cutie Elias?” A warm voice speaks from behind you, and you feel someone going to pick you up from Elias arms. You instantly start squirming in place, those annoying broken chirps start once again, you are scared, you just found someone to hold on to, and that security is being taken away from you, the tears start forming in your eyes, you hold on to Elias’s shirt while trying to bury your face into the crook of his neck “Woah! Hey buddy”. The tears start to prickle your eyes, for some reason you are way more emotionally sensitive than usual, and that little scare is almost enough to throw you into a crying fit. “Everything is okay kiddo, it’s just a friend, remember?”. After a bit of silence without an answer you hear the other person sigh and start walking away. You almost feel relieved until Elias starts to follow them. After a minute of walking, enough for you to, somewhat, calm down, you hear a door opening and you enter into a room, if outside felt that it wasn’t very bright, in here is way dimmer, just one light that give out a warm soft glow to the room, but not enough to really see well your surroundings. Elias sits on the center of the room and you feel the presence of his friend getting near you, a cold hand starts to softly scratch at your head, making you try to bury yourself deeper into Elias arms “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you. Could you let me get a look at you?” The second voice asks.

You shake your head no, but feel how Elias starts to lower you down, you chirp again in a panic trying to hold on again, but before you can even try, a cold hand grabs yours while you are being sat on the soft floor. “There, there” Thomas hand comes up your cheek cleaning your tears as they fall. “There is nothing to be afraid of honey” He lets go of your hands and bring his hand to cradle your face, making you look up at him, he is smaller than Elias, slimmer too, long strawberry blonde hair framing an elegant face, a fanged smile directed at you, his eyes feel like they are swallowing you up, that bright vivid red almost shinning in the dim room, it makes the instincts in you try to get away, but his gentle hold turns a bit more forceful, holding you in place. “I know you are feeling fussy baby, but you need to start behaving, I won’t have any of my children behaving like brats” That gets you to freeze for a second, what does that mean? His child? But you are an adult! “Really, you should be grateful” He continues, not really carrying about the look of fear that crosses your eyes. “It’s obvious the vampire that was taking care of you, was doing a poor job at it. Just look at you! Almost just skin and bones” You did feel like you lost some weight, a bit expected seeing how your diet ended up the last weeks. “But everything is okay now” Elias says behind you, and pushes you a bit so you end up in Thomas lap. “You are home after all” Thomas says while hugging you.

You want to fight, you really do, but you are so tired, you have already been having a bad time on your own, and all the emotions from tonight are getting to you. The small voice in your head relishes in the fact that you are not alone anymore, even if you don’t know the people that are holding you so sweetly, but that can be a problem for the future you. The present you can feel their eyes start to become heavy and with a hand guiding your head to the crook of Thomas neck you decide that maybe a nap can take priority in this situation. Completely unaware of the smiles adorning the faces of the two vampires holding you, having at last found the perfect little addition for their small family.

------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

[asdfghjklartblog]

Confessions of a Rotten Girl

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3

TW: Neglect and slight gore

So I finished this A LOT faster than I anticipated. But I was kinda obsessed with writing more so I just kept writing. Anyways have fun! Happy reading! It’s around 6.2k words so sit back and relax! Also Luke is probably ooc but like, I will definitely try to do better about that in the future.

Living here is… Rough to say the least. Not long after being introduced and dumped onto Bruce’s lap, you were put into a preschool. So not only were you in an unfamiliar home, but you were also going through new experiences, while trying to accept that your Daddy was gone.

On top of that you and Dick don’t really get along, and you’re not sure if the two of you ever will. If the two of you aren’t fighting you two are outright avoiding each other. But you were able to piece together enough information to find out why he was so angry all the time! He also lost his parents. So, you tried to bond with him over that. However this was a terrible idea, but you were also 5, and you just wanted to bond with the stupid boy. It isn’t much of a surprise that the two of you ended up on the floor pulling at each other’s hair and hitting anywhere the two of you could reach. The two of you were just duking it out for less than a minute before Alfred catches you two and scolds you with all his might. After that the two of you avoided each other like the plague, only interacting with each other when necessary, like during galas.

Bruce wasn’t much better, he was cold to you. He never talked to you and would only interact with you during social events like galas. It hurts to see that your father didn’t want anything to do with you but it would be fine. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

What hurt the most however was seeing the two of them happy. You had heard from Alfred that initially Bruce and Dick didn’t have a good relationship either and kept getting on each other’s nerves. Bruce’s seriousness and Dick’s sassiness didn’t really go together. At least not at first, but you guess that eventually Dick grew on him, and now you see Dick smiling and talking about all the things he accomplished and the latest drama at school, while Bruce listened fondly. You sigh wishing you also had someone that cared about you just as much as Bruce cares about Dick. You wish you could bring back the person that did do that.

At least in preschool you had someone that cared about you, his name was Eric and he had fluffy brown hair and green eyes with freckles dusting his skin. He was your best friend, he invited you to sleep overs, showed you his collection of dinosaurs, shared the treats that his mom packed. You two were partners in crime. So it was heart breaking when he just stopped talking to you when you guys went into first grade. But you made more friends, at least you think they’re friends? They’re kinda mean, but they spend time with you and laugh with you when you make mistakes. But they never invite you to their birthday parties and always say such mean things.

You mention this to Luke one day when he comes to visit and he is immediately pissed. He then looks at you and says. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, next time they’re making you feel bad? Bite them, lick their hand, say something hurtful, whatever. What’s important is that you gotta fight back y/n. Only pussies take it lying down.”

You look up at him and ask. “What’s ‘pussies’?”

He cringes when he realises his mistake. “Don’t worry about it y/n. Just do what I say.”

You did as he said. The next time one of your friends was being mean, you yelled at them. “Only pussies take it lying down!”

Which made some of the older kids at the playground gasp as the girl that was being mean to you yells. “What does that even mean?!” And although neither of you knew what it means, you both new is was some kind of insult.

She then pounces on you like a cat, trying to scratch and hit you. The two of you tussle in the playground, and the teachers that were lazily talking were now rushing toward you and the girl. It takes about 5 adults to try and pry the two of you apart, and in the crossfire the teachers were also scratched and bitten.

It’s not a surprise that Bruce and the girl’s parents are called right after. You and Bruce sit next to each other as the two of you wait outside the office. After minutes of just silence he sighs and looks at you, disappointed. “Why did you do this, and who said violence was the right answer?”

You look at him, annoyed and confused as to why you’re the one in trouble. “Well, she was the one who jumped onto me like some evil cat.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at you and says. “It doesn’t matter who did it. You can’t just fight someone like that, you have to talk through-”

You look at him as if he’s insane and reply. “She came after ME! What was I supposed to do? I could’ve been a lot more hurt like that! I had to fight back!”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before saying. “Yeah? Was it also ‘fighting back’ when you tried to push her down the stairs?”

You gasp at what Bruce is implying and replies. “She is such a liar! I did not push her that was her own fat feet’s fault! She started it!”

Bruce stands up suddenly and rubs his temples before saying. “Y/n. You will apologise to her and you will mean it. Do you understand me?”

You try to argue saying that it really wasn’t- okay some of it was your fault but not all of it! “But I’m not lying she really did-“

Bruce then crosses his arms and stares you down before saying. “I said, do you understand me y/n.”

You then look down to your feet and nod, tears welling up in your eyes. When the girl’s parents come out with a disgruntled look on their faces. They try to scold you for being so rough with their ‘precious’ Amelie who had a smug look on her face. However you’re not really listening as your mind drifts off, imagining how you could tear her apart. Bruce then makes a coughing noise as a reminder to pay attention and nudges you forward. You sigh and look at Amelie who still has that smug smile on her face before Bruce says to you. “Go on. Apologise.”

You look at her straight in the eye before saying. “I’m sorry… That you’re so DUMB! You should go-“

Bruce clasps a hand over your mouth and smiles at the parents as he says. “She’s usually not like this.” He then whispers Into your ear. “If you don’t apologise, you WILL be grounded with no screen time.”

You send a glare his way before looking back to the girl. However as you look her you’re your face turns into one of shock as the girl, which you now know as Amelie, which is a STUPID name by the way. She isn’t even French, she’s just regularly stuck up. Anyways she starts crying crocodile tears as she says. “Why are you so mean? I just wanted to get to know you… I’m sorry.”

You don’t care at this point. Not about the situation, you still care about that. But you don’t care what Bruce will think or would do. No matter what, this girl is going down. You bite Bruce’s hand hard and he hisses in pain while he recoils. You then charge at Amelie and punch her in the face, her parents and Bruce look on in complete shock. She falls on her butt, and she looks at you surprised that you had the nerve to actually do that. Her nose then starts to bleed as real tears start to spill from her eyes.

Needless to say, both Bruce and Alfred were incredibly pissed. But you were proud of yourself, and that’s all that mattered. Well, it also helped that Luke was also very proud of you, in fact, he was so proud that he took you out for a day at the arcade! Under the false pretence that he would take you to the library to study. Bruce and Alfred had absolutely no idea. You had so much fun that day, you played all kinds of games with him and then he took you to Batburger!

He then took you back home but you wanted to spend more time with him, so you begged him to tuck you in and read you a bed time story. He then looks at you confused and asks. “Does Bruce or Alfred not tuck you in?” When you reply with a confused little no, he looks at you with both frustration and sadness. He then picks you up and says with a small smile. “I’ll read you anything and everything you want, I’ll stay with you until your asleep. I’ll make you that hot chocolate that my mom makes o-or some hot milk. Whatever you want.” You break into a wide smile and hug him back tightly as you start to talk about whatever comes to mind. But you notice that there’s a glint of sadness that he’s trying to hide as he does everything he promised he would do. You don’t understand why, but you can tell by the way he tucks you in and reads you stories that he cares for you. And that makes you a little less scared.

After that day, no one in school messed with you. Which you were happy about but… You were still alone. You were still lonely. Your dad probably thinks you’re annoying. Just like Dick. You really wonder what’s going on in their heads, Dick acts like he’s like the nicest person in the whole world. So chipper and everything, it’s super annoying. It’s even more annoying that whenever you try to talk to him, even if you’re just trying to ask him to get you the ice cream in the freezer cause you can’t reach, he acts like you’re asking him to turn back time and watch his parents die. Bruce you just don’t understand, he’s rude and gruff with you. But sometimes you catch him staring. You’re not sure why but every time you do, you see both annoyance and some kind of deeper emotion that you aren’t sure about.

You sigh as you lie down on your bed snuggling into the fluffy duvet and nuzzle the pillow. Earlier you had a fight with Alfred about your grades, they were getting worse. You’re not sure why but you feel tired almost all the time and you can’t bring yourself to care about anything, even if it’s something you like. It’s been really stressful and you don’t know what to do. Alfred’s always busy so he can’t help you, Luke is also pretty busy but he does his best to make time for you but he’s also got his own life, and you don’t wanna take him away from that. And no one would tutor you because rumours spread that you were some vile little beast. Probably because of Amelie and her parents.

You tear up and hold Ollie close to your chest. You whisper to it. “You won’t leave me right? You won’t ignore or hate me right?” It says nothing. Most likely because it is a plushie. You raise its wing and pat your head with it. Pretending that you’re still with Daddy, that it was one of those weekend nights, and you were watching a movie together. He would be petting your head as you laid your head on his lap. You’d do anything to have that again.

That night you have a dream. A strange one. Unlike any dream you’ve had before. You wake up on a beach, with the moon, full and high above the sea. Everything felt so real, the cool waters the wet sand sticking to your feet. You turn to look behind you to see a cave carved into the cliffside. You watch as a giant owl emerge, then it starts charging at you. You hurriedly try to wade through the water but it feels… wrong. Before you could figure out why you’re being pulled to the depths of the ocean as you try to scream and shake off the thing that’s dragging you down.

You wake up in the middle of the night panicked and heaving, you run to your private bathroom and collapse by the edge of the tub. Coughing up water, tears spring from your eyes, as you almost cough up a pint or more of water. When you finish you cling to the side of the tub sobbing as you do so. To make things worse, you see that you’re bleeding, you pull down your shirt to see three dots in the form of a small triangle in the middle of your chest. The circles are perfect and it looks like you were stabbed with something as thick as a pencil. Honestly, you’re so tired and sleepy that you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

You go downstairs as you note the time, 3 AM. You go to the kitchen and you are faced with Batman making something on the stove and Robin bouncing on his heels. You stand there, silently for at least a minute before you just go back to bed. Your original plan of going to the kitchen to sneaking some milk and cookies for you, abandoned just like that. You’re obviously seeing things and it would be better to just go to sleep. So without changing your bloody shirt or getting any comfort whatsoever you lie there until daylight comes.

That day you were exhausted, you were practically falling asleep in class and the wounds on your chest kept bleeding for some reason so you haphazardly taped paper towels to your chest. You didn’t know who to talk to, whether it was okay to talk to someone. So when you finally got home from school, you asked Alfred if you could call Luke. But he said that he didn’t know Luke’s phone number but he did have Lucius’s and that he’d ask. “Who the hell is Lucius.” You ask, confused as to why he’s bringing in a whole new person you don’t know into the fringe. He chuckles as he says. “Lucius is Luke’s Father. You met him the first day you came here.”

You think for a moment before you start to remember him. “Oh, the nice black man?”

Alfred nods and then goes to the home phone in the living room and calls Lucius. He then passes you the phone and goes back to work. You panic, the last time you handled a phone call was when your father died. When Lucius picks up you yelp and before he can say anything you hang up. You then stay there panicked waiting for something to happen. You yelp again when it rings. Your hands shake and you start to get sweaty, you take deep breaths and do your best to calm yourself down before picking up the phone again. Before you can speak you hear Luke saying. “Hello, my father can’t come to the phone right now, he’s currently in a meeting. If you’d like you could call again later or I could tell him to call you ba-“

You interrupt and nervously say. “Hi Luke. Um. Can I-“

He interrupts you too in his excitement and says. “Oh, hey y/n! How’s my favourite Wayne doing? You alright? I just came back from university, it’s a lot of work but it’s fun, I guess. Uh, I can swing by and pick you up? We could go get some Batburger or something? Or you can come to my place and I can show you some more boxing-“

You start to tear up, you can feel how much he cares about you which makes you tear up a bit. You sniffle and he immediately quiets, you hear some rustling on the other end before he asks. “Hey, you okay? I’m sorry, I got too excited. Do you want me to come over?”

You nod as you whisper out a watery. “Yes please. C-Could you also bring me a (favourite hot drink) and a warm cookie from that café you took me to?”

You hear Luke pause before he chuckles and says. “You mean the Sleepy Time café? Sure kid. I’ll be over in 30. See you soon.”

After that the two of you hang up. You eagerly wait for him in the foyer, like a puppy waiting for its owner. You were a bit nervous, he’s been away at college for a while and you were worried he wouldn’t like you anymore because he made new and better friends. But Luke would never do that. You desperately hope he wouldn’t. When there’s finally a knock at the door, you rush to open it. When you do, you see that Luke has a large bag with the Batburger logo and a small bag with the Sleepy Time café logo and a big smile on his face. “Thought you might need an extra pick me up! Come on, lets go to the other side of the manor so Alfred can’t find us.”

You laugh and help him with the bag with the café stuff in it. You two go to the other side of the manor that’s less lived in. You guys find a living room like area with a big flatscreen TV like the one in the actually living room, although it is a bit smaller. He pulls out some DVDs from the inside of his jacket and puts the into the DVD player. While the movie plays you two eat and talk, until you finally bring up your dream. He looks at you horrified and asks. “What the fuck? That sounds horrifying.”

Which makes you feel both comforted and also scared because what do you mean, is this not normal? He pauses the movie and then says. “So let me get this straight, you woke up, started throwing up sea water and found three stab wounds-“

You then try to say. “But I don’t know if they are-“

He interrupts you saying. “I’m not done. I- Do you know how insane that is?”

You shrink back into yourself when he says that and get teary eyed. He realises what he said and how it probably sounded to you. “I’m sorry y/n I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that this is crazy and I can’t believe that you didn’t tell anybody. You should’ve said something to me sooner! Not waited a whole day.”

You nod and then say lowly. “I didn’t know who to tell.”

He looks at you sadly and and sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He then moves his hand to comb through his dreads. He then gently asks you. “Could you pull down your shirt for me y/n? So I can see?”

You nod hesitantly and take a deep breath before you do as he asks. You pull it down and take off the makeshift bandage that was almost soaked in red. But it’s gone, already scarred over despite it having been bleeding not too long ago. Panic rushes into your veins and you try to explain yourself but Luke interrupts you saying. “Y/n. You don’t have to explain, I trust you. Plus it’s kinda hard not to when you have a blood soaked bandage and three scars on your chest right where you said there would be. That’s insane though, it’s like straight out of a horror movie.”

You smile as he continues to talk, assuring you that he believes you as the pets your head and holds you tight. You bury your face into his shoulder, happy that there’s someone here that’s in your corner. That night before he tucks you in he writes his phone number on a post it note and writes in big letters, “Luke’s phone # call if you need ANYTHING and I mean it!” which makes you smile sleepily. It makes you feel safe and comforted.

And Luke did his best to keep his promise, he sometimes misses some calls but immediately calls the next chance he gets. As you turn 10 you notice some changes in your body. You don’t like it. It makes you look more… girly. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it just. It doesn’t feel right. When you look in the mirror you start to notice your body also turning more feminine. It’s not that you don’t like it’s just… It doesn’t feel right? You dismiss those thoughts however as you keep going to school.

You still don’t have any friends but Dick brings his friends over all the time. You sometimes watch them fool around, some redhead named Wally West, Roy Harper, Kaldur. Wally is the only one that’s the same age as Dick, Roy is barely four years older than you and Kaldur is older than Dick by two years. You’re fine with them, they look cool. One day you try to sneak into the kitchen without bothering them, wanting a snack. While you’re rummaging through the pantry you hear someone ask. “Who the hell are you?”

You turn around to see Roy looking at you with a raised eyebrow and his arms folded across his chest. You can see that he’s trying to look tough. He is failing. You turn away from him and grumble. “None of your business. Leave me.”

He does the opposite of what you say and gets closer as he asks. “Whatcha trying to get pipsqueak?”

You look at him, annoyed and say. “You fat butt, that’s what I’m looking for.”

Roy looks at you offended and says. “My butt is NOT fat! Take it back!”

You stick your tongue out at him and turn back to the pantry only to realise you forgot what you wanted. Then you turn back to Roy and growl. “Nice going numb nuts! Now I forgot what I wanted! I really wanted it too!”

Roy rolls his eyes and then says. “Well if you forgot what you wanted then maybe you didn’t want it that bad.”

Frustrated, you get teary eyed which makes Roy’s eyes widen. He sighs and goes over to the pantry and asks. “Did you want cookies?”

A bit confused, you brush your tears away before wetly asking. “What?”

He groans and asks again. “Was it cookies you wanted? Popcorn? Chips? Chocolate?”

You think about it a bit before asking for the peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. He looks at you like you’re insane before getting those things. You grab a spoon and put it on the island before climbing onto the stool. You scoop out some peanut butter and realise you have mo plate. You look at Roy pleadingly and ask. “Can you get me a plate please?”

He blushes for some reason and grumbles and walks to one of the base cabinets and opens it to just see pots and pans stacked up neatly. He then shyly asks. “Uh, do you know where plates are?”

You smile and let out a little giggle before saying. “You’re close. It’s right above.”

He nods robotically and looks to see if there’s a ladder, he grabs it and uses it to get a plate for you. You plop the peanut butter onto the plate and give it back to Roy and ask. “Could you please put it in the microwave? Pretty please?”

His face reddens further and he puts it in the microwave for a minute. He then grabs it but winces when he feels how hot it is. He then grabs an oven mitt, puts it on and brings the plate over. He then sits next to you and just stares at you. You look away slightly uncomfortable then dip your cookie into the melted peanut butter. You huff and puff at how hot it is, but it still tastes amazing. Roy then steals a cookie and does the same thing as you. He also huffs and puffs at how hot the peanut butter is. You laugh at that and continue to eat the cookies like that together and in silence. When you’re finished you give him a hug and whisper a thank you before jumping off the stool and going back to your room happily. Not noticing that Roy’s face was beet red and he stared at you as you left.

A few weeks later you saw that everyone in your school had a phone. You also wanted one, so after some pleading with Alfred who then relayed said pleas to Bruce, bought you a new WayneTech phone. You searched up all kinds of things, you’d look at pictures of your favourite characters all day. However you keep running into pictures one character kissing another character. But that’s not right they should be in love with the one you think is best. It just fits the story better and their personalities won’t clash! And that is how you ended up in a rabbit hole of lemon fanfics and fan art. This was all so cool! Online, you could be someone else! And people were into the same stuff you were into, and you found more things that peaked your interests, like manga and anime! You were into so many fandoms and the dopamine rush you get from seeing art of your fave character, or better yet, your fave ship was amazing! You loved this!

It didn’t take you long to get on Wattpad, Tumblr, Devianart as well as getting a Waynebook account. Which none of your family members know about because why the hell would they. And you obviously had to pretend to be a boy, I mean you wouldn’t want random people to know that you’re a girl and it’d be harder to find you in case anyone did try to find you. But while you were scrolling through Waynebook one day you saw that one of your favourite artists had an ‘NSFW’ account. You don’t know what that means so you clicked it and Oh. Oh wow. After that day you got into both yaoi and yuri. And you started following A LOT of NSFW accounts and got into some more ‘adult’ fanfics and doujinshis.

It really felt like the world was your playground after that, and after you found there was both official and fan merchandise? You said goodbye to your allowance because you needed that dakimura of your fave being submissive and breedable. You had pins all over your backpack and cute little key chains that your fave artists made of your babies. However on one of the days that Alfred took both Dick and you to school, Dick saw your backpack. He asks. “What’s that?”

You brighten up and start to explain, but you don’t even 5 seconds before he says. “That’s so weird. And you put that on your backpack? You want everyone to know you’re some kinda weirdo? Bruce would probably disgusted.”

Your smile goes away and you go quiet as Dick turns to look through the window. You mumble under your breath. “It’s not weird.”

Alfred scolds Dick for saying something like that, but you can tell that Alfred also thinks it’s not normal. Your eyes start to sting as you start to undo the pins and decorations on your backpack. You wish he never asked, you wish he didn’t get your hopes up. No one in this manor understands you. And then comes the question, would Daddy still love you like this? You start to cry quietly trying your best to stifle your sniffles but Dick notices. He rolls his eyes before mumbling an apology you know he doesn’t mean. You don’t say anything back.

You wish that was the worst thing about that day but no. In the middle of a test your seat starts to feel wet you look down to check and see that you’re bleeding. You get scared and ask the teacher if she could come to you. She doesn’t even look up when she says. “You have legs don’t you? Come and walk over here if you have something you need to say.”

You look down nervously and tell her. “Could you please come here instead? I don’t feel comfortable walking over there.”

She stares you down and sighs as she gets up to go close to you. She asks you. “Are you having trouble with a question?”

You shake your head and tell her you’re bleeding from your crotch. Her eye widen at that but her brows furrow when she says. “Don’t lie to me, you’re too young to be having a period. Just finish your test.”

You look at her, panicked and say. “I’m not! Miss can you just please help me?”

She sighs and as she combs through her hair she then says. “Fine. Get up then. Show me.”

You look up her horrified, you look around and see that some of the kids are looking over curious as to what’s happening. You look up at her pleadingly and ask. “Do I have to?”

She nods and then you sigh and get up, Eric, your former best friend and now class clown says. “Ewww, that’s so gross! She peed blood!”

Your face flushes with embarrassment as the teacher then realises her mistake she then ushers you to the bathroom and grabs a pad for you. She tells you how to use it and while you do that, she calls Alfred to pick you up but the damage is done. Alfred probably picks you up and helps you through it but after that day the kids at school start to call you bloody mary.

You start hiding your true self after that. You told Luke about both things and although he didn’t quite understand the fujoshi part, he was still supportive. So you continued the next few years. While Dick blossomed into a social butterfly and healed from his trauma, you enclose on yourself. Only blossoming during the night, when you were free to be yourself. When you were free to be as weird as you wanted to be. Your body keeps growing, but not in the way you want it to. You start to get self-conscious, hating the way your body looks and feels. So you start wearing oversized hoodies and baggy pants. You look at Dick and his friends and see their bodies. You wish you looked like that.

At some point at around 13 years old, you made a friend online. A girl named Robin she’s about 5 yeas older than you and really smart. She helps with your homework a lot and you’re thankful for her. When you tell her your feelings about your body growing she then asks. “Would you rather be a boy?”

You chuckle and say. “I mean, yeah. Boys have it easier. They don’t have to worry about their bodies. And they don’t have to worry about periods. They don’t have boobs either, so that’s cool. There’s also the pay gap-“

Robin interrupts. “Are you saying that to justify that? Or do you mean it?”

You pause, and think about it for a moment. You then say. “I don’t know. Like I look at Dick and his friends and I think, ‘Wow! I wish I had their clothing and musculature and I wish I could also be manly’ but like it’s not like I fantasise about it.”

Robin chuckles as she then says. “Mmm. So those times you wished you were a man and told me that if you were a man you’d want to be a ‘bara dilf’ didn’t happen? Or how you said that you wished you looked like (insert chara with your ideal body type)?”

You blush and think about her words and say. “Well it’s not like I can change anything-“

She interrupts you again as she says. “Yeah you can. You can get HRT and get that body and voice you want.”

You reply with. “What.”

She then explains the LGBTQ+ going through each letter calmly and letting you ask questions. It makes you pause and think about what you want and if this is you. And whether you might want to change your body. You mull it over for over a month when suddenly you have that weird dream again.

You’re on the shore, everything around you is serene and beautiful the sun setting. You turn around and there’s the cave that’s int the cliff side. You go towards it this time and as you get closer you can hear breathing. When you’re right in front of the cave you see the owl staring at you. It looks straight into your eyes and opens it mouth to let out some kind of recording. You hear a blood curdling scream, and garbled noises, implying someone is drowning or choking on their own blood as the ominous chanting in the background grows louder and louder overtaking the screams eventually. It then closes its mouth but voices don’t stop. Instead it feels like the sound is multiplying, like there’s more people that’s either screaming or chanting. It starts to hurt, and the pain gradually increases too. Until suddenly it all stops. You start heaving, not noticing that you were barely breathing the entire time. You fall to your knees as you shudder and hug yourself. You look up and the owl says in Bruce’s voice. “Behind you.” You slowly turn around to see the giant owl from last time. This time you get to see how big it actually is. It’s as big as a medium sized two story house. It then pecks at you, tearing through your flesh like a hot knife through butter. Tearing out your entrails at it keeps you down with its talons.

You wake up with a scream, you still feel the pain. And it takes more than a few moments to realise that you’re alive. And that it was just a dream.

After that you were so preoccupied with the dream and school that you completely put the thought of HRT and surgery out of your mind. Instead you start showing your art online, making fanfics and buying doujinshis, trying to keep your mind off these reoccurring dreams and the fact that your family doesn’t love you. 2 years pass like this, Bruce and Dick’s relationship has been rougher these days. You watch but don’t butt in, it’s none of your business anyways. But then Dick moves out and you can tell Bruce is depressed about it. You don’t know what to say or do but you start to leave tea or coffee for him in his office, so he won’t feel as lonely.

But that looks like it won’t be necessary, because instead of saying thank you and just be a normal man. He gets another child from the street, he tells you to be nice to him, to be kind. As if you didn’t know the harshness of the city. You’d argue about it but you had no energy for that. That’s when you meet Jason, your little brother.

He looked skinny, the child like look that was supposed to be in his eyes are not there, replaced with a wariness that you can recognise was developed over time. His clothes were too big for him, almost swallowing him up. You could tell he was uncomfortable and Dick isn’t here anymore. And even if he was, he’s been real prickly since his argument with Bruce. You sigh and wonder, is that what you looked like? It’s obvious that he’s older than when you came to the manor but because of the malnourishment he looks as if he’s nine.

You didn’t interact much in the beginning, at least not until the next week when a thunder came along. You were staying up doing some commissions when your door opens, you blink at the light flooding your room wincing as it makes your tired eyes sting. When you can see properly you can see Jason just standing there, blanket in hand. Before you can say anything he barges into your room and gets into your bed. You look at him confused and flabbergasted before you save your progress and turn off your computer and drawing tablet. You go to the bathroom to change into your pjs before standing right by the aide of the bed. You see that he’s shaking. You look at him sympathetically as you remember when your Daddy used to do that. You sigh as you get in bed and curl around him, you wrap your arms around his waist. The two of you fall asleep like that, while you hoped you could be be of good use to him. However when you wake up he isn’t there, you clench your fist as you lay there. Tired, and lonely again.

————————

Hello! Hope you liked it! If any of the charas are too ooc please tell me! I would like to be kinda accurate in some way.

Edit: For those who saw what the title was before, no you didn’t.

Edit 2: I made Roy a bit older

Taglist:

@simpingpandas

[obsessive-valentine]

Forever and Always

Platonic Vampire Family + Fem!Reader

No real TW's in this one- just sick reader and reader not believing in stranger danger lol. Also !not proof read!

Based circa 1800’s, reader has caught the attention of a vampire who’s maternal instincts have been neglected after a tragic life as a living woman and empty one as a the living dead still without the daughter she longed for.

Readers age isn't specified -though implied her childhood has passed and is anywhere from adolescence even up to young adult, tried to keep it broad (but she does come across as naive and childish.) Wrote this bc mommy issues. I think it's getting a bit lengthy so I split this into 2 parts, I'll be slowly adding to part 2 and maybe be out soon if you guys like this kinda thing.

...

It's a small town, nestled in a valley and surrounded by forests of barren trees striped bare by the harsh winter. The clouds consistently created a grey overcast. It's cold all year around and wasn't uncommon to see people tip-toeing around the icy patches on the cobblestone streets.

Smoke from the small and squished townhouses further added to the murkiness in the air, mixing with the fog, but at least it added a sense of warmth when the winds blew it towards you. It never lasted long though before the cold begins to nip at your exposed nose and ears.

It was easy to feel like you were the only one who lived in this town. The streets are eerily quiet in the mornings when you'd walk in silence with your father to his shop in town. Even when you'd get into the town square, where most people could be found if they weren't working or at school, they are all on a mission and far too cold to stop and talk. The bitter winter seemed to seep into their blood as they pushed past each other, their footsteps rushed and faces buried in their coats. Then it was the same in the evenings when you'd walk back with your father, the streets quiet and cold, your father even more so. A thick fog would roll in, and lamp lighters would be up on ladders lighting the street lights, providing some comfort but not much to the wandering mind of a young girl.

See, Father wasn't a particularly bad parent, he comes off as detached and cold only because he's so busy. Emotionally neglectful? sure. But you are one of many siblings, he has to neglect you emotionally so that he can properly focus on caring for you physically. At least that's what mother always says. She's not much better though. You wonder why they had kids if they seem so apathetic and busy all the time, it obviously doesn't bring them much joy. Had they once loved each other and were excited to raise a family? Why did it change? You don't know nor never would, they don't appreciate talking about heavy topics.

...

You were excited to help father in his shop when he proposed it to mother "I can take the girl with me if she doesn't cause trouble. And the boy will be off with his older brother in school come next month. You continue teaching the older two girls their duties" He was trying to relieve pressure from mother, as she had to do house chores and teach your sisters the duties and tasks such as weaving and sewing. It was reluctant, he didn't believe in wasting money and sending you -just a girl- to school, but this argument kept rising up and he supposed he could use some help in the shop.

You thought this was an opportunity to get close to your father but he still didn't have the time to nurture you, you couldn't help but feel disappointed and even abandoned but never would resent your father due to childish innocence you still had yet to grow out of. You clung to any praise he gave you or any time he'd nurture to your necessitates, like buying you gloves on the walk to work when you wouldn't stop rubbing your hands for warmth.

...

The first time you had seen the woman, who would change your life, it was like any other. You had survived the walk to your father's store, careful not to slip on hidden ice and peaking into expensive shop windows when your father wasn't looking. He owned a general mercantile store, items ranged anywhere from tools to odd collectables to food. It wasn't uncommon for people to come in and ask for a specific item and your father would make some deals and acquire the item that wasn't available anywhere else and have it in the store for them the next week. Many people also came in to trade items for money, you'd watch from a distance as they haggled the price both the customer and father would fight over a single penny, it's pretty funny.

You sat on the large window sill at the back of the shop, face pressed up against the cold glass watching the busy people rush around. They looked like dragons with the cold breath coming from their noses and mouths. You'd just helped your father set up the shop ready to open, forced to clean the floors and surfaces and he finished some checks and brought out a few items from the back that he mended to be ready to sell.

You'd just finished wiping away the condensation on the windows, and were given the approval to sit down for a bit "Good job, go sit down out the way, I'll call for you in a bit".

People came and went hearing the bell ding from the door opening and watching people ponder on items as father busied himself with repairing an item to sell or counting money and paperwork. Looking back out the window you locked eyes with HER- a beautiful woman, in a pretty dress and lush winter coat. She smiled with a warmth this town hadn't seen in too long, you felt a connection instantly, you longed to talk to her, but brushed it off believing you only felt that way because of the abnormal warmth she radiated.

You had to stop yourself from gawking at her expensive clothing and lush long hair that was as dark as coal and curled to frame her face perfectly. Mustering up a genuine smile you raised your hand to wave subtly. You saw her eyes flicker to the store's main windows observing the variety before seemingly deciding to come look inside the shop. Straightening up in your seat you watched her cross the cobbled street towards the shop, you shuffled up closer towards the desk your father worked at, careful to stay out of his way but curious of the woman about to enter the shop.

The deep red of her dress was even more entrancing up close and her jewellery proudly sparkled. Father greeted her and helped her find some watches kept away in an expensive glass case lined with velvet padding. "Oh, my son would love one of these" She inspected them closer making light conversation with Father. Until she lifted her eyes over to you, spotting you almost instantly watching her from behind some storage shelves.

"Seems we have another expert ready to help. Come here." she gestured with an encouraging hand, you'd been caught off guard so your step stuttered as you walked closer -checking it was okay with your father with a glance.

"Come on" she egged. You walked up to the counter where the case of watches lay on display "Could you help me pick one out? I just can't decide" she sighed but kept a gentle warm smile. Something about her voice or eyes made you hesitate, ever so slightly unsettling, you'd never been nervous to help a customer. It was an odd feeling but her presence was so genuine and even maternal that you pushed aside the trepidations and nodded, unable to speak through your tied tongue.

Father left you both to it as he continued with work and serving the few customers who came in while you both talked. "My son is a serious young man, always deep in thought. He's needed a new watch for some time now, which one do you think will suit him?" she placed two watches she'd picked from the case, in front of you.

You stumbled over your words "I'm not sure... I mean I don't know much about watches" Your eyes darted between the two beautiful watches with tiny engravings -how did they make such small details on such a hard surface? You wondered. One gold and the other silver, they are just as beautiful as each other.

She lightly laughed, you could have sworn her eyes twinkled "Don't be modest. Beauty recognises beauty, and you are quite beautiful" Your face feels hot from the compliment and partly the pressure of picking such an expensive item for her.

"I suppose if he's more of a serious soul... he'd appreciate this one more?" you'd decided on the silver one, more sleek and serious. You didn't dare to touch it and dirty it so you just gestured.

She hummed, taking a closer look. You stood fiddling with your clothes unsure if it was the right choice, until she spoke- "You are a smart girl, this one is much more suitable." she agrees putting the gold one back in the box

Since finding your voice once again you decided to ask her about certain pieces of jewellery she wore as she counted her money. She gladly engaged in conversation, even passing you a few rings or bracelets that she wore so you could look at them closer as she talked about the stones or where she got them from. You insited you shouldn't touch them as she passed a bracelet to you "I've been cleaning this morning, my hands must be dirty I shouldn't touch such a valuable thing like this." She took your hand and manually placed it in your palm "It's no bother, I insist" she encouraged.

She travels a lot, and most of what she was wearing being from a different country. You wondered how she could travel so many places in such little time, and how rich she had to be to do that, you don't think you've ever left this town. Before you could ask about her travels, being so deeply invested in talking to her you'd leaned on the front desk, ready on your elbows and tip-toes for the next story- that wouldn't come. "-Are you helping the lady or just standing around?" your father scolded one he saw you chatting to the woman unrelated to selling her the watch "Get on with your chores before lunch time comes around" he ordered.

You turned to the woman with a sheepish and apologetic smile before hurrying away further into the store. She seemed a bit agitated by being interrupted by your father but quickly covered it up to finish the transaction.

"You've picked that one ma'am?" Your Father chimed in, eager for the money coming his way.

"Yes" she handed him the watch "Your daughter has quite the eye, it's a lovely piece" he hummed back in acknowledgement but not necessarily agreeing, he counted the cash and bagged the item. She wanted to scowl at his attitude but kept composed, she looked over her shoulder for any sign of you, she could hear the broom being swept over the wood-planked floor but couldn't see you. She reluctantly left with only the silver watch.

...

You saw the woman frequently after that first meeting. It was as if she appeared whenever you needed her most—without being summoned, always close by, like a shadow lingering just beyond the edges of your world.

Sometimes you'd bump into her on your way to the bakery when Father let you have a lunch break with a few coins clutched in your hand, and she'd fall into step beside you- like you'd just summoned her. She'd ask about you, but you were always eager to get to the stories that you'd rush through formalities, she'd gladly continue her stories of the world beyond this valley.She would then buy you a pastry or two, ones you couldn't possibly get with just the few coins in your hand. You'd pocket the extra coins and have a growing stash in your pillow back at home.

and walk you back to the shop "Go on, dear," she’d say, gently nudging you back toward the door. "I’ll see you again soon." Before disappearing into the crowd.

-

On other days, when you saw her outside the shop from your window, you felt an irresistible pull. Her presence became a secret thrill, something just for you, a small rebellion against the order your father imposed. Carefully, you’d slip out the back door, the heavy wooden frame creaking in protest, but not enough to alert anyone.

You’d run out, your heart racing as you approached her, trying not to draw too much attention from anyone passing by. She always noticed you before you could speak, turning toward you with that warm, knowing smile.

"Sneaking out again, are we?" she’d tease softly, her voice almost conspiratorial. "What would your father say?"

But there was never any judgment in her words, just a hint of amusement and affection.

-

At some point, you had the sense to ask her name after realising she'd been using your name but you, in all your excitement, had yet to use hers. "Lavinia Beaumont, dear" she couldn't help but laugh a little, she was beginning to believe you'd never ask.

You blinked, the name rolling over your tongue in your mind, everything about her seems rich and beautiful, you smiled.

"Lavinia Beaumont... it sounds like royalty," you said with a playful glint in your eyes. "Are you secretly a royal? I promise I won't tell anyone." you continued half joking.

"Not quite" She smiled, before you could question further you had to leave her for the day to return to the shop.

...

It was yet another working day for you and your father, or it should have been. Lavinia had yet to see you, she couldn't even sense your presence. not wanting to believe it however she left the carriage and walked further into the streets of town.

Subtly she went out of her way to walk in front of the mercantile store you were usually found in if not nearby. Her eyes darted at each of the windows, looking inside for the sight of you sweeping, cleaning, sitting at a window or sneaking around to fiddle and poke at the new stock much to your father's dismay. But the only person in the store is your father.

She walked the town a little longer, hoping anyone of her senses would pick up on you. There was nothing and she returned home.

Lavinia did this twice more, coming in the mornings, seeing no sign of you and coming up with excuses, but it never helped to unease.

On the 3rd day, she gave up waiting and walked into the mercantile store. The bell rang above her head "Back again I see, how can I help?" your father spoke straightening up from his position at the front desk where he'd previously been writing- presumably taking stock or counting money.

"A pleasure to meet you again, I'm curious about what other beautiful pieces you have, My son was most taken with it." Lavinia replied, eyeing the glass cases, none of this jewellery she'd wear, her taste is far more expensive but she had to sell the narrative. Your father jumped at the opportunity to sell yet another pricey piece "Ah! Madam, If you’ll allow me a moment, I believe I have something that might catch your eye."" he disappeared into a back room and emerged with an envelope. "I've just had these in, I haven't had time to put onto the shelves yet but it might be of interest to you, fine work indeed." He pulled out some fine chains of silver and gold, with little stones or pearls decorating them. Lavinia couldn't care less about the jewellery but played along nevertheless.

"Beautiful" she inspected "I had thought the young lady who assisted me last time might be here today. She had such an eye for these things. Where might she be? I'm sure she could pick the finest one for me" She began to prod but making as though the thought had only just occurred to her, asked in a light, conversational tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry to disappoint but my daughter has become increasingly ill the past few days. And the physicians believe it to be consumption, but they are hopeful she'll get well soon as we caught it early" Your father replied, he fidgeted and shifted his weight continuously.

Lavinia had long set down the jewellery and stood listening intensely. She dreaded it but had suspected something greater was at play- "I'm so sorry to hear that, such a sweet girl shouldn't go through that" She was secretly seething, her girl is in pain somewhere and Lavinia- for the first time in a long time- was helpless. He cleared his throat awkwardly "Yes, I'm sure it will all smooth out"

...

"The girl is sick! You know better than anyone she won't overcome this, not with those treatments-" Lavinia seethed at the thought pacing her husband's study, where he sat once writing at his desk but now interrupted and pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

He stood up ready for this argument to end, this girl had caused a lot of ruckus in the house since Lavinia had begun talking about you and he's about fed up "-We are surrounded by death, I thought you had come to terms with that long ago. Plenty of good people have died early in life and will continue to be that way, death doesn't discriminate. She's just one of an incomprehensible amount of average people experiencing an average tragedy" In some sick way he's ready for your death, so his wife overcomes this unhealthy attachment to some average mortal girl.

"But she could be more than that. She's more than that to me. And you know what I mean by that, you've been denying me this instinct for decades and you're cruel for that." Lavinia had to step away from the deeply unsettling conversation, turning her back to storm out but turning around last minute before slamming the door "I am the very thing that holds this family together and you'd have nothing without me" her teeth are gritted, her voice low and damning. She's never had any great quarrels with her husband, maybe a healthy few in the past few centuries but nothing that could make her question his love for her or hers for his.

...

"Father, a word?" Lucien, one of the sons of Lavinia and Soren, entered the study where hours had passed of Soren thinking over the conversation. Soren gave a brief nod busy putting on his coat and finding his gloves that he always seems to misplace, he supposed it's been a while since he's needed them to go out anywhere. "You can't be serious" Lucien scowled, now noticing what his father is doing.

"Get on with it boy" Soren scolds Lucien's disrespectful tone. "NO! You're going to get the girl, aren't you!? You're giving into Mother because of one little quarrel? You're putting our whole family, everything we've built at risk for an average mortal girl?" Lucien scolded, his face twisting in a mix of emotions, unable to grasp the concept.

Soren ignored Lucien's tone, whereas if it was any other day he wouldn't stand it -he's simply too tired to argue more "This is something I should have seen coming a long time ago. This isn't a passing interest or quarrel, you should know your Mother better than that. She's the reason we exist in any form of peace, the family would be much worse off without this gir-" Lucien interupts with "- We've done fine without this mortal so far!"

Soren glares at his son "I'd appreciate if you don't interrupt, that is childish. I don't expect you to understand your mother's need for her as you have never seen her broken" Soren pauses to grab his gloves out of their hiding place.

He continues "You're right, we've got this far without her. But this denial- this gap in your mother's life has been building in the background for centuries. She sees potential -so I suppose I do to" Before Lucien can argue more Soren leaves the room headed for the front door.

He passes the younger of the two, Dorian, standing close by "It's lousy to eavesdrop, Dorian" The boy grins in response, clearly curious about this change and more accepting than his brother.

...

You believed the reaper had come for your soul when you saw that man standing in the doorframe to your room. It had to be the dead of night, there was no sound to be heard or light to be seen aside from the dim glow of the moon. Your candle on the nightstand had long been burned out.

Still dazed and lethargic from sleep and sickness you blinked a few times at the unmoving figure which studied you, you then took a deep breath in, which rattled in your chest readying yourself for what monster you might face.

Courage is mustered and you manage to ask "Who are you?" quietly and sounding sickly but the monster in the shadow seems to hear you fine. "Soren. Your father sent me -I'm here to help, I'll have you healed by morning" his voice is monotone, but at least not one of a story book monster you'd expected.

You felt bitterness at the mention of your father's name, once you had given him every excuse in the book for why he didn't show his love for you. But the past few days had been rough, he wouldn't even look at you, unsure what to do with you, sending doctors and medicine but not the comfort you longed for. You just wanted reassurance, just love.

Soren steps into the room a bit further, the wallpaper a childish floral pattern. You had trinkets strewn about, papers of scribbled writing and doodles on the little oak wood desk, a doll here and there that you couldn't part with once your childhood had finished.

He looked back at you, pale and exhausted. Your brows furrowed while you tried to make sense of the man. He felt an unexplainable emotion, maybe closer to remorse but more complex than that. The innocence he hadn't seen in a long time, you'd struggle for a while once you were turned - it happened with both his sons and wife. Maybe you'd wish you had died here on this bed, maybe you'd fill the house with anger or maybe sorrow.

But in the grand scheme of things that period will be not even a fraction of your greatest purpose. He sucked in a deep breath out of habit not need, he pushed back the hesitation. For a greater purpose. For Lavinia. For the sake of his family, which you will become.

In cold resolve he walked towards the bed, you'd live on in a way, he wasn't lying. Your true death would be wasted potential, you'd learn to be content with undead like he once had to.

"How?" you questioned he blinked back into reality "How can you heal me in mere hours?" It's a reasonable question, but an incredibly complex answer he didn't have time for.

"You just have to trust me" He replied simply "We have to go to my office first, you'll be in your bed, healthy, come morning. I promise" He continued, seeing your weariness.

Your hand lifted and a small finger stuck out "Promise?" you asked. He recognised the childish gesture and returned it with his gloved hand, hiding how unaturally cold he is "I promise" he repeated back. He wasn't really lying, you would be saved from consumption in a couple of hours and sleeping in your bed -be it in your new home.

He lifted you into his arms, one under your legs and the other around your back as you rest your head on his chest. You both left the room then house without another word never to be seen by the sleepy, moody little town ever again.

You fell asleep -the last deep sleep you'd experience as a living being. He was careful not to wake you on the ride home.

...

Lavinia now had found out what was happening after Dorian ran to tell her the news -ever loyal to his mother. "Fathers left to get the girl" he gently told her as he stuck his head through the crack of the door.

Lavinia straightened up from her seat where she sat embroidering to pass the time "You don't mean it? When did he leave?" she haphazardly dropped the items on a side table and rushed past him.

"Not long ago" Dorian followed after his mother "How could this be?" she more so muttered to herself but Dorian replied anyways "A change of heart I suppose" Dorian was quite amused by it all, more from shock not meaning to be insensitive. Its rare that something of interest or chaotic happens in the house that he cant helped but get worked up a bit.

Lavinia paced the entryway waiting for Soren to return, hopefully with you. Dorian sat on the staircase a bit further back keeping his mother company while Lucien sulked in his personal study, wanting nothing more to do with this mess.

The carriage and hooves could be heard on the gravel path leading to the house. Lavinia couldn't wait any longer and opened the door welcoming in a cold draft as she stepped outside to watch the carriage come into sight.

And there you were in Soren's arms, out cold, but looking so peaceful. He stepped down onto the gravel and Lavinia almost aggressively snatched you from his hold.

Instead, she gently took you, not to wake you. Seeing you up close was a shock for her, only remembering you as that lively town girl. Not the sickly pale, exhausted and wasting girl consumed by sickness.

"Oh my baby" she whispered brushing the hair away from your fevered face, then clutching you closer, cradling you like one would a baby. For a fleeting moment, her eyes met with Soren -her hand briefly brushed over the side of his face, a quick gesture of appreciation. He stood unmoving and unreadable but allowed the touch and connection.

She then rushed you inside before the frost of the night woke you up, her footsteps hurried but careful. Her head crowded with one thought only; 'you're safe with me now, forever and always'

[hugemilkshake]

Can I ask you a request, please? Platonic yandere about White Lily, Elder Faerie, Silverbell, Mercurial Knight x child!reader, possibly as a child or younger sibling. They took care of the reader when reader was a little dough, but unfortunately, they neglected reader and then reader disappeared. They were so sad thinking it was their fault until they saw you were with Gingerbrave's group, sadly, the reader doesn't remember who they are anymore.

Enjoy the milkshake! Did you know, a shrimp made this milkshake?

A child for the faeries

-Platonic-

!TW! Under the cut there are themes like overprotectiveness, not knowing how to care for a child and implied murder

Things never go to plan do they?

White Lily had initially planned on leaving this child to the faeries. She found this child in the deepest depths of beast yeast, the places only yeast spores rest in.

She couldn’t care for fresh dough! Even though she wanted to…. She wanted to be able to relate to Hollyberry and Dark Cacao with having a kid as well… but the faeries are kind enough, fresh dough seems to be safe in their hands! Right?

Well.. yes and no. The faeries have a safe kingdom sure, but do they know how to take care of a child? Nope. I mean there aren’t really any child faeries running around so you can see why they are unsure when it comes to childcare

White Lily arrived and at first was going to get the information about the witches she yearned for but she felt like leaving you was a crime that she couldn’t bear to commit. She promised to not get attached but she did

The faeries also got attached since it’s been a long time since fresh dough had been in the kingdom and while the faeries doted on the fresh dough, they didn’t actually take proper care of them.

Mercurial Knight was one of the babysitters asigned to taking care of the dough, his method was… dull.

He kind gave the fresh dough a stick and said have fun, but if there was any threat then Mercurial Knight would take it upon himself to destroy the threat swifter than an autumn leaf drifting to the forest floor. Now did the child see this? Maybe, but you’ll forget and he’ll get you cleaned up if any jam got on ya.

Now your other babysitter was Silverbell who actually was a somewhat good babysitter! He was caring, made sure to feed you since some faeries forgot about that sometimes and he played with you! But he was very anxious about everything you did.

It got to the point where you were under constant observation, Silverbell would start to have a panic attack if you were out of his sight for more than five seconds. If you did get lost he’d search the kingdom high and low until you were found, Sliverbell would cry tears of relief when he did find you

Now White Lily and Elder Faerie were a duo, you’ll never find one without the other.

White Lilys sent always gave a calm aura and Elder Faerie had a wonderful voice for lullabies, White Lily did too but she was to nervous to sing.

They were kinda like your parents, most of the time anything relating to you went through them first and foremost. Anything from diet to well being to safety, any questions went through them. And they kinda controlled everything, some could say they were over controlling

But the two of them seemed to have a strained relationship due to their different ideas of how you should be raised, Elder Faerie wanted to keep anything from the beasts to the witches to be hidden away

While White Lily wanted you to know things, I mean, it’s not like Dark Cacao or Hollyberry hid anything from their kids so she shouldn’t! And it might help you one day.

Now things came to a head when Dark Enchantress was born, that same day the sealed away beasts got a bit more aggressive with escaping, and during the chaos the child that everyone had tried to raise went missing…

The years ticked on by and a melancholy swept over the faeries, White Lily wasn’t waking up and the child was gone. The joyful atmosphere was gone.

Until one day… a group of cookies walked into the kingdom with one resembling the dough they desired to raise… but they held no sense of familiarity, only curiosity and wonder

[miss-soph-star]

Emily Prentiss x Victim Reader x Jennifer Jareau (A Call For Help)

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

TW: SH, Anxiety, Dissociation, Normal CM Plot (kinda wrote this surrounding something that happened to me when I was younger…I just wish they handled it this way) Emily, and JJ rescue y/n from her parents. After weeks they keep up with y/n's progress and when she becomes withdrawn they try to understand why.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Emily Prentiss and Jennifer Jareau stood outside the dilapidated house, the moon casting a pale light over the scene. The air was thick with tension, the kind that always accompanied a high-stakes rescue mission. They had received a tip-off about a girl named Y/n, a sixteen-year-old who had been reported missing weeks ago. As they gathered their gear, they exchanged determined glances, both women knowing the gravity of the situation they were facing.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked, her voice steady but laced with concern. Emily nodded her expression resolute. They had faced countless unsubs before, but something about this case felt different. The thought of a girl trapped in a nightmare, especially at the hands of her  own parents, ignited a fire within them to act swiftly and decisively. They approached the front door, their hearts pounding coordinated with the urgency of the moment. Emily knocked, and when there was no response, she exchanged a look with JJ. It was time to breach. With a swift kick, the door swung open, revealing a dark, eerily quiet interior. The smell of neglect hung in the air, and the faint sound of muffled cries echoed from somewhere deeper within the house.

“Stay close,” Emily whispered, leading the way as they maneuvered through the dimly lit corridors. They could hear the cries growing louder, a mix of fear and desperation that sent chills down their spines. The closer they got, the more they felt Y/n’s pain, a palpable energy that seemed to seep through the walls. They finally reached a locked door at the end of the hallway. Without hesitation, Emily pulled out her tactical gear and quickly worked on the lock while JJ kept watch. The door clicked open, and they burst into the room, their hearts racing.

Inside, they found Y/n huddled in a corner. Your eyes wide with fear. You were thin and dishevelled, but physically unharmed. The moment your gaze met theirs, something shifted in the atmosphere. Emily knelt, her voice soft yet firm. “Y/n, we are here to help you. You are safe now.” Y/n looked at them, your expression a mix of confusion and hope. But when you attempted to stand, you hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do. JJ stepped forward, her heart aching at the sight of your vulnerability. “It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to take you home.”

After a moment of hesitation, you nodded, and Emily extended her hand. With a gentle touch, she helped you to your feet. As they led you out of the house, JJ kept a protective arm around your shoulders, guiding you through the darkness. Once outside, the night air felt refreshing, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the house. They moved quickly to the waiting SUV, but as they approached, you suddenly stopped, your eyes darting back toward the house. “My parents…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Emily crouched beside you, meeting your gaze. “They can’t hurt you anymore. We’re taking you to a safe place, I promise.” Your eyes filled with tears, and you nodded, allowing Emily to lead you the rest of the way. As they drove back to the BAU, the silence in the car was heavy. You sat in the backseat, your gaze focused on the passing scenery, lost in your thoughts. Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances, both women feeling the weight of the trauma you had endured. They knew that healing wouldn’t come easily, but they were determined to be there for you.

Once they arrived at the BAU, JJ guided you inside. The familiar surroundings, filled with the hum of activity, felt comforting yet overwhelming for you. They led you into a quiet room, away from the chaos of the office, where you could feel safe. “Do you want some water or something to eat?” JJ asked gently, trying to coax you into opening up. You shook your head, your eyes downcast. Emily sat beside you, giving you space while still conveying a sense of support.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk,” Emily said softly. “We’re here for you, no matter what.” You looked up, your eyes meeting Emily’s. For a moment, the walls you had built around yourself seemed to crack just a little. “I…I don’t know how to explain,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to explain anything right now,” JJ reassured you. “Just take your time. We’ll listen whenever you’re ready.”

As the hours passed, you began to share snippets of your life, your voice barely above a whisper. You spoke of the isolation, the fear of your parents, and the way they had manipulated you into silence. Emily and JJ listened intently, their hearts breaking for you as you had endured so much.

As the weeks passed, you had been placed with a family, and you were attending school, and all seemed to be well. Emily and JJ set up regular visits with you, liaising with your school and social worker to ensure you were properly supported. Today was a new day, and they were visiting you at school to check your wellbeing. Concern hung in the air, although outwardly you were coping you had begun to withdraw, it was noticeable, but you were exceptionally great at masking your feelings, and Emily felt for you, knowing just how easy she also covered her true feelings.

As Emily and JJ made their way through the school for their visit , you sat on the cold, hard floor of the corridor, you back against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The sounds of laughter and shouts from the gym echoed through the open door, but you felt distant from it all, like you were watching a scene play out in a movie rather than participating in your own life. PE was supposed to be your favourite lesson, a time when you could run and jump and feel the rush of freedom but today was different. Today, you felt trapped.

Your teacher, Mr. Thompson, stood at the doorway, arms crossed, frustration evident on his face. “I’ve had enough of this, Y/n. You’re being defiant and rude. Just join in like everyone else!” His voice was raised, but it only made you shrink further into yourself. Just then, JJ and Emily entered making their way towards you, their presence commanding yet comforting. JJ, with her warm smile and compassionate demeanour, immediately sensed the tension in the air. 

“Hey, Y/n,” JJ said softly, kneeling down to be at eye level with you. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you in class?” You refused to meet her gaze, staring down at the floor. “Can’t,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. Emily stepped forward, her keen intuition kicking in. She could see that something was off; your behaviour was out of character. “But why can’t you?” Emily asked gently, her tone encouraging. 

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I need a hoodie, and I don’t have one with me,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But why, honey? You don’t usually wear one,” Emily pressed, hoping to draw you out of your shell. “I can’t tell you, “You replied, your eyes darting away. “Of course you can,” Emily urged, kneeling beside you. She noticed as you slightly roll up your sleeves, terrified of their reaction, but clearly tired of hiding, revealing fresh red lines on littering your skin. Emily’s heart sank as she understood the unspoken message. “I don’t want anyone to see. I’m not trying to be rude by not going to my lesson,” you added not wanting to seem ill behaved, your voice cracking in worry of being perceived as such.

Emily felt a wave of empathy wash over her. “You’re not being rude, sweetheart. It’s okay to feel this way. I understand,” she said softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm. “Let us get you sorted out, alright? Will you let me help you?” You nodded. With JJ’s support, Emily guided you to a quiet room nearby, away from prying eyes and the chaos of the gym. Once inside, Emily closed the door, creating a safe space where you could feel secure. “You’re safe here, Y/n. Can you tell me what happened?” 

You took a deep breath, your eyes welling with tears. “I just... I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I used to love PE, but now it feels like everyone is watching me. I can’t do it today. I don’t know how to feel better without this.” You say gesturing to your arms. JJ knelt beside you, offering a comforting presence. “It’s okay to have off days, Y/n. We all have them. But you don’t have to hide. You’re not alone in this. We’re here for you.” 

With encouragement, you began opening up about the feelings that had been overwhelming you since your parents’ arrest. The uncertainty, the fear, and the shame was too much to bear, and you felt like you were spiralling. Emily listened intently, providing you with the understanding you desperately needed. “You’re so strong for sharing this with us, Y/n. It’s okay to ask for help. We can talk to your teacher together, and I can help you find a way to feel comfortable in school again.”

You nodded slowly, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Really? You’d do that for me?” You asked in curiosity, “Of course,” Emily replied, her voice steady and reassuring. “You deserve to feel safe and happy at school. Let’s take it one step at a time.” JJ smiled, “And remember, you’re not defined by what’s happened. You’re a bright, talented young woman, and we believe in you.” 

With newfound courage, you agreed to speak with your teacher, with Emily and JJ by your side. Together, you returned to the gym, where JJ and Emily stood alongside you in solidarity. When they approached the teacher, Emily calmly explained the situation, advocating for your needs and ensuring that you would have the support required to participate in PE without the fear of judgement. 

Mr. Thompson listened, his demeanour softening as he realized the gravity of the situation. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t understand the situation earlier. We can work something out, so you feel comfortable again, but you don’t have to worry about any judgement.” he said, his tone more compassionate now. 

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. “Thank you,” you whispered, a small smile breaking out onto your face and Emily squeezed your shoulders comforting you. “Remember y/n were always going to be here for you.” She smiled reassuringly looking at JJ who interjected. “Please y/n we can work together on safer ways to cope with your feelings. I understand how difficult this is for you, but if you need me at any time day or night please call us and we’ll be there in a heartbeat.” JJ said compassionately, knowing just the importance of treating such subjects with compassion. “I don’t expect you to stop right away, I know how this works and it will be hard, but we can replace it with something healthier for you.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Tag List: @olderwomenenthusiast @m-1234-5 @wands-natsthing

[rinitoshiplzdateme]

i read a fic and honestly it made me really think about shidous backstory

from what i seen of theories, most conclude to him being neglected, without parents, or any of the sort, even going as far as saying he has a good background (which i kinda doubt)

but honestly i think its the opposite, that he has strict parents. shidou’s entire thing is freedom, he plays soccer because it grants him freedom, its why he’s so obsessed with soccer and considers it incredibly important to him. he has a connection with sae because sae (literally) gave him freedom and his playstyle lets shidou go wild, and sae still keeps up, if you catch what im saying?

so, doesnt it make sense that hes like this due to years of being restrictive? right? after all strict parents create kids who push boundaries more, sneakier kids. even down to his looks, his playstyle, its all flashy and disregards the societal norms or “rules”, his hair is different, his eyeliner, he doesnt restrict his vocabulary. its all to compensate for a childhood of being unable to self express. its makes sense if he had to be the perfect son for his parents, and if not well then say goodbye to freedom.

and honestly i wouldnt be surprised if he only dyed his hair as a sign of rebellion against his parents 😭

he desires his own control in his life, and soccer is that outlet, that control he finally has after years of someone else’s control.

tw: child abuse

i also want to bring up his violent tendencies as that obviously cant be overlooked. shidou is no doubt one of the most violent characters in blue lock, violence is normalized to him. hes grown up with violence, to think its okay to hit someone after a simple mistake. he hits and yells at igaguri when igaguri messes up (in his eyes). that ties in with his parents, i believe that hes faced abuse from either both or one of his parents, or that hes seen it between his parents.

but anyways this is pretty short and i could be wrong so 😭

also heres the fic link

@fishii28

[nemesis-writer]

[Unwanted Ransom(Chapter 6)]

Masterlist Oxytocin

TW- some shows of mental illness

10 years ago...

"Xerxes come on say something this is a safe place."

"Then why is there a camera?"

"It's there just in case you get-"

"I get what, crazy? Yeh, lady I know the drill"

"It says in your file that you have gone through multiple doctors in the past since your mother's death."

"And what makes you think you can fix me?"

"Because you are special, you have so much potential, and you put it all to waste."

"Who cares? My so called 'family', if I can recall they abandoned me, neglected me, and one of the little brats scarred me." Yep you obviously know who I'm talking about

"Xerxes, don't put the blame on others."

"You've been married for 15 years, three kids, one teen, one toddler, and one infant.

You're parents are divorced and no matter how many times you and your husband hate each other you wanna stay married in order to prevent the same trauma you had pass on to your kids.

Did I get it correct? Oh wait don't answer that I'm always correct." I sighed laying my head down.

"And you've become observant when it comes to hurting others, see I've studied your pattern of behaviour based on the reviews all your other doctors have represented to me before I took this case. And boy was it a long read.

Technically I'm entitled to tell you anything that could help you. And you thought that you could go through me?"

"I don't give a fuck what people say, who do I trust? No one, if a friend wants to jump on train tracks, don't expect me to hold their hand.

I don't give a damn what they insinuate about me anymore, I am an Amala never a Wayne, so I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to." And with that I abruptly stood up and grabbed my bag, I head out there.

The only reason I went there because, my 'dad' heard that I got into a fight and handcuffed the brat in the janitor's closet.

Just suck it up Xerxes, in a few years, you can finally escape them.

'Just suck it up' That's the advice I'd always tell myself no matter how much I cried, scream, or hurt myself.

Present...

"AHHHH, PETE, THERE IS A FUCKING BUILDING!!!!" I screamed as I held on tight to him.

"JENNY MOVE YOUR HAIR, OH SHIT!!!" he lost a bet so he had to swing me from Vincent's house to dad's. When we finally descended, I sighed and laid on the floor for a while.

"Y'know MJ would normally puke with this." He sighed.

"I'm built different" And I walked normally inside my house, I didn't feel any signs of...

fuck

oh wait

Oh shit

never-mind

I rushed to my bedroom's toilet and hurled a lot. Gosh, I should've listened to MJ. With that I washed my face, and brushed my mouth. I went down-stairs ignoring my surroundings.

I kinda had a crush on Pete for a while, but then I met Vincent and felt like Pete is a brother to me.

"AYOO, PETE LET'S GO WATCH SAW 2-" I immediately cut myself off when I saw, something I thought was a dream.

oh wait

it can't be

tell me I'm dreaming.

OH SHIT....

"Hey baby bird-" Richard stuttered, and tried to hug me.

"Back off Grayson, dad what the fuck is going on."

"Xerxes-"

"Who said I was talking to you limp-dick? Now dad seriously what the hell is going on here?" I looked at dad with puppy eyes, gosh I'm so adorable.

"Now, they just came here to drop your stuff." He explained.

"They are not my things they are Xerxes' things, I only things that I need are what I have now." I stated, as I looked at the cunt who ruined my life, I only sighed.

"Xerxes-"

"Zip it Timothy, or I'll tear you're tongue from your head." I stated, I've been watching the Originals again, and might I add, Nikklaus' has been looking good.

"Xerxes-" Jason tried to start. But I cut him off with a glare, he then corrected himself.

"Jennifer, we miss you and we apologise-"

"For what? Neglecting me? Abandoning me? LEAVING ME TO DIE?"

"We didn't mean to." They all protested.

"Bullshit!"

"Language!" Dad sighed.

"When is my birthday?"

"January 7?"

"No, it's September 8, what the hell is wrong with you people?" I was eager to run and ditch these people and run up to my room.

"Xerxes, you're my sister come on." He tried to grab me, but I dodged it and grabbed his hand spinning him downwards. Thanks Nat.

"Touch me one more time, and your arm won't be the only thing that will hurt."

I immediately rushed upstairs and ran to my room, locking it, which activates voice-recognition. Gosh, I was so angry with them. I started to get really angry and accidentally punched a hole in my wall that was connected to Morgan's room.

"JENNY!!!" Oh fuck.

"SORRY M! I'll fix it later." And with that I just dropped onto the bed. I grabbed my phone and texted Vincent.

Jinx- Hey V

V- Hey Jen, how r u?

Jinx- My previous fucked-up family is back now

V- damn, wanna hang tommorow? 🙂

Jinx- Sure, but I gotta lotta hw tho 😢

V- call me if you can then 🤙🏻

And with that I decided to lay down and wonder how fucked up my life could get. I started to fall asleep so I decided to shut down all of my devices, in order to avoid the annoying sound of the 'Brady Bunch' trying to text me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N- It could've been longer if my dumbass didn't accidentally delete my first draft, could've been so much better.

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hcs for a Tav who grew up being starved/neglected. Maybe their parents were poor or they were an orphan on the street. They don’t hoarde too much food but they don’t eat in front of others. And rarely take enough. And they refuse to shower near the others or camp super close to them. They’re almost always on alert and are really bad at self care. They’re always dirty, hair a mess. They kind of smell. And they are also ashamed of the fact no one taught them how to take care of themselves???

For Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Wyll? ^_^

Thank you!

A/N: Oh Nonnie, I feel this! I was a child of divorce and at one house we were very disciplined and had routines for self-care and homework and everything. But the other house was chaotic and full of resentment and neglect. It’s so odd how something 20+ years ago can still affect you today, but it absolutely can. 💚

For some resources on having to figure things out as an adult, may I recommend the “How Do I Dad?” YouTube Channel and the r/InternetParents subreddit? Those are the two I like the best atm. Also remember, Google is your friend. Whenever I want a real person to answer, I usually type in my question with a plus sign then Reddit (+reddit) which will pull up real user’s threads from Reddit about the subjects you’re Googling. It’s one of the last platforms I think is usable in that way. So that's why I do that. Then again, I’m old and might just miss the old ppl’s Internet. 

Anyway, on to the ask!

…

TW: Mentions of Past Neglect, Disordered Eating, Food Insecurity

...

🧼️ HCs for Neglected!(GN)Tav With Astarion, Halsin, & Wyll 🛁

Astarion: 

Okay, he’s kinda a dick about it at first. He doesn’t mean to be. Well, I mean, yes he meant to make those petty comments, but he wouldn’t have made them if he knew about Tav’s past circumstances. Once Tav lets it slip they’re bad at self-care because no one ever taught them, Astarion immediately feels a sense of kinship. 

He was a magistrate before Cazador captured and turned him, and he considered himself to be a man of some luxury, but after being taken that all changed. He lived in filth, he was fed filth, by the hells, Cazador saw him as filth. He knows what it feels like to be seen as worthless and to have to survive in meager conditions. He wants Tav to understand none of it is their fault. They had no control over their circumstances. He tells Tav to never apologize for the way they had to live in order to survive. 

The first thing he offers to help Tav with is bathing and dressing. When Cazador let him out to lure victims, Astarion perfected disguising his undead scent over the decades. Part of it was using oils and perfumes, and another part was choosing the right attire. He’ll find the right kind of soap and cleansing oils for Tav's skin and hair type, insisting they get only the best the markets of Baldur’s Gate have to offer. If Tav can’t afford it, who cares? He’ll just sneak around the merchant and steal it while Tav distracts them. Or Lazel, if Tav refuses to do something so morally questionable.

He doesn’t really pick up on Tav’s refusal to eat with the others, mainly because Astarion also doesn’t eat with the others. But if Tav requests, Astarion will gladly sit and gossip with Tav as they eat their meal, away from everyone else. 

Astarion might suggest the party visit an inn or a bar one night, and encourage Tav, in his way, to let their guard down and eat around the others. He wants Tav to practice consuming food in the presence of their other friends. Astarion believes it’ll do two things: 1) It’ll prove to Tav, that it’s safe to eat in their company and 2) It’ll reinforce what Astarion’s been saying to them, that there’s nothing wrong with the way they eat. Even if they scarf their food down or eat with their hands or burp extra loud- who cares? Karlach practically inhales three portions in a single bite. Gale won’t shut up while he eats, so he’s always talking with his mouth full. And Shadowheart takes the tiniest bites imaginable, meaning she takes fricken forever to finish a single plate. Everyone has their own style, and Tav’s is nothing to be ashamed of. 

If Tav and Astarion are especially close or if they’re dating, Astarion will even offer to help Tav wash up. Not because he wants to see them naked, or to have sex, but because he really wants to shower them in affection. He’ll gently massage their shoulders as he works the cleansing oils into them. He’ll help them balance, bending backward as he washes their hair, gently using the very tips of his sharp nails to scratch their scalps. It feels heavenly, and it’s a great intimate, non-sexual way for the two of them to grow closer. 

It may be true no one was there to take care of either Astarion or Tav in the years past. But now that they’re together, the two of them can take care of each other. 

Halsin: 

Halsin prefers to live amongst nature as opposed to city dwellings, so he’s more accustomed to roughing it than the others may be. That being said, he’s not unclean, or unkempt- he keeps himself very well groomed (as one must do when they tend to ask to bed anyone and everyone they come into contact with for more than five seconds). He assumes Tav is just more accustomed to frequent bathing at first. Not everyone is as fortunate as he is. But he begins to suspect something the more the days go on, and Tav’s appearance and demeanor don’t change. 

He’ll try casually inviting Tav to come bathe with him. He knows the perfect spot just beyond the Grove, that’s secluded but not too small, that would well accommodate both of their bodies. He suggests this regardless of whether he and Tav are dating or not. If Tav is hesitant, he apologizes for being forward and kindly explains he just wanted to present Tav with the opportunity to take some time for themselves. When Tav breaks down in front of him, explaining why they’re so upset about the idea of grooming and self-care, Halsin is immediately sympathetic.  He listens intently as Tav gets their fears off their chest. 

Once Halsin understands Tav’s situation, he’ll take them into his tent, and show Tav his collection of soaps and brushes and oils. Halsin explains how he prefers to use each one, before gifting them to Tav to keep for themselves. When Tav protests that it’s too much, Halsin puts a hand up to stop them. He can always buy new items. Besides, he’s learned how to make the most of what only Mother Nature has to offer. He can manage without fancy cleansers and bristles for a time. Tav deserves them more. 

Halsin might even offer Tav some clothes if he has any that wouldn’t be too difficult to tuck or take in, as he’s a very tall man. With Tav’s permission, he might even ask Shadowheart Lazel or even Astarion if they have something they could spare for the time being, if Tav is too embarrassed or shy to ask for themselves. 

He offers to keep watch and guard Tav as they bathe, promising not to look unless Tav asks them to. If the two are dating, Halsin will assist them, helping Tav scrub down, and removing all the dirt, grime, and dead skin before washing them in the water. If the two are only friends, Halsin keeps his promise of not looking at Tav until they are dressed again. He’ll help detangle and braid Tav’s hair, taking care not to pull too hard on any knots. The whole ordeal leaves Tav feeling rather pampered. 

As far as eating goes, Halsin will always offer to share any meal he catches while the party is camping together, which is how Halsin notices Tav’s different eating habits. Halsin swears that as long as he is well and able to hunt and gather food, Tav will never go hungry in his presence. Halsin assures Tav that it’s okay to eat full, rather than stockpile most of their meals for later. It’s much more important to eat for energy now, rather than wait to eat later. It keeps one’s energy levels stable and helps to reduce any unintentional food waste as things tend to spoil sooner rather than later. 

Halsin takes it upon himself to become a provider of sorts for Tav, the one Tav never had. He plans to lavish Tav with so much attention and care, that those wounds caused by years of abandonment and neglect have no choice but to close. 

Wyll: 

Wyll is a bit awkward about it in the beginning. Not because he intends to be rude, but because he’s unsure of how to approach the subject with Tav without sounding like a snide ass. If it were any other companion, he might have made an offhand comment days ago, but when it comes to their leader, Wyll holds much more admiration and respect. So, Wyll holds his tongue until things become a bit more apparent, and he believes he knows the most sensitive way to navigate them. 

When everyone sits down to eat, Wyll asks Tav if they’d like to join them. He does this every evening, hoping Tav will eventually say yes. If Tav still doesn’t bite, he’ll come to them, and ask if he could sit next to Tav as they eat. Wyll makes a casual conversation between bites, trying to bring Tav out of their shell. If there's still no change, Wyll opens up about being on his own, having been kicked out of his home as a young man. He reveals how for the first few years he was often hungry, tired, and cold- being forced to move around from place to place outside of Baldur’s Gate without the proper supplies to fend for himself or keep himself dry. This prompts Tav to open up a bit about their past- how they also had to survive on their own, and now, as an adult, they don’t know how to do anything other than ‘survive’. 

Wyll is, of course, empathetic. Tav may not have come from a noble background like Wyll did, but that’s no excuse for all Tav had to endure, especially as a child. Wyll tells them he’s sorry Tav had to live through all that, and makes it very clear that it was in no way, Tav’s fault. They were just a kid, they should have been protected. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. They didn’t fail, other people failed them. 

Wyll had to learn how to do many things on his own, and he thinks it would be best for him to share all he’s learned. One night he sits with Tav at dinner, encouraging Tav to eat, as Wyll tells them how he learned where to stay, how to get work, when to leave, and where to train. 

Together, Wyll and Tav come up with a list of items Tav most likely needs for self-care. All the while Wyll does his best to ensure Tav doesn’t feel judged for lacking such things. Again, Wyll reminds them, it’s not their fault. And there’s never any time to start like the present. If they’re close enough to a market, Wyll will take them there, and help Tav purchase everything they need. However, if they’re somewhere without vendors, say the Underdark or the Shadowlands, Wyll will approach a party member for assistance. 

Out of all of the companions, Wyll asks Astarion if he has any extra cleansing soaps or oils because Wyll knows Astarion’s the most high-maintenance party member amongst them lol. Once Wyll secures those items, he gifts them to Tav, and lets them know he’d be happy to stand guard while they bathe. Wyll plants himself midway between the camp and the river, giving Tav ample space. Wyll would feel being too close to them, in this manner, at this point, even if he and Tav were in a relationship, would be inappropriate. 

Once Tav is bathed and dressed, Wyll escorts them back to the fire. As Tav’s hair dries, Wyll regales them with much more upbeat stories, tales of his times as the Blade of Frontiers. His battles and triumphs, his rescues and saves- all of that. He wants Tav to know he has their back. Wyll is capable of protecting Tav, and he intends to do it in a way where Tav never has to feel abandoned or forgotten again.

...

💚💚 Don't Forget to Like & Please Reblog!!! 💚💚

[bangaveragewhitewine]

soft slow, morning glow

Steve Harrington x Reader

A prosaic peek at Steve Harrington’s inability to sleep in and stay in bed and his reasons for changing his ways. 

October 1997; a cosy easy morning, where kisses are shared and ABBA songs are sung as a lullaby.

Word count: 4.3K

Content/Warnings: TW for talk of bleeding during pregnancy, borderline neglectful parents. 

Mention of sex (18+), not explicit. This contains dad!Steve & mom! reader toward the end; pregnant reader. Kinda rambling. Very soft. Low angst (but not none).

Note: Thank you to my ST rewatch for making me fall for Steve all over again. 

Proofread by @specialagentmonkey | Divider by @silkholland

Steve Harrington was always an early riser. 

As a honey-haired little boy, he spent Saturday mornings on the sofa watching cartoons with the volume dialled low as his parents slept. He knew not to make a mess with the cereal, or the milk, rewarded with a stack of pancakes or a new toy for keeping himself amused as Richard and Katherine Harrington slept off the previous evening’s dinner party hangover. 

Always the first awake at sleepovers, he would wait with bated breath for Tommy to stir or feign a sneeze to wake him. 

He never had to be dragged from bed to go to school during the week, always up and at ‘em to go see his friends, play tag and swap baseball cards on the playground. 

As a sporty and popular teenager, he started running when he didn’t have early swim practice or basketball. Steve rose with the sun and waved to his neighbours politely as his shiny sneakers slapped the pavements of Loch Nora. 

He was never sure what he was running from, or towards, but the burn of chilly morning air in his lungs made him feel alive. 

When he started going to house parties and hangouts on Saturday nights, his Sundays still started early, dragged to show face at his parent’s church. It was less about faith and god and all about appearances. He snuck out of bedroom windows, hopped white picket fences as the sun rose, fought hangovers as the priest’s voice droned and caught the eyes of pretty girls from the convent school a town over - they always blushed when he smiled at them or dropped them a sly little wink as the collection plate was passed around. 

When his parents started travelling more, after the shortlived re-commitment to the church, Steve’s Sunday morning hangovers were kept at bay with cold swims in the pool or hot coffee and loud music in the kitchen as he tried and failed to focus on homework.  

Steve started working right out of school as punishment for unsubmitted college applications and lower-than-predicted grades. He volunteered for the opening shifts in Scoops Ahoy and Family Video - he liked the responsibility and having a purpose, having an excuse to be out of the house before his parents could tutt and fuss and lecture him. It was easier when they weren’t there; when the office in Indy needed Richard’s attention more than his wife and son did, when Katherine spotted smears of lipstick on his collars again and insisted she spend some time with him in the city apartment. 

In their absence, the Harrington house was a mausoleum of failure that Steve couldn’t bear to be in. So he raised his hand for early delivery shifts and stock takes and drove his friends to school when he didn’t have to, already awake after another night of nightmares, memories of flying fists. 

Steve Harrington rose early and burned bright; burned out quickly when he realised he didn’t know what to do with himself or what his purpose was. 

He filled his time with making himself useful to other people, chasing and seeking a purpose or a person to fill the gaps and spaces in his chest; the hollows once reserved for the people who didn’t return the outpouring of love he offered so freely, so innocently. He found and made a rag-bag bunch of friends, a found family, who returned the love he deserved in the ways they knew how. Woven and knotted friendship bracelets, squished candy bars, mixtapes, weed sold and rolled at buddy rates or for nothing at all.

Steve Harrington moved to the city with his best friends; a Beemer and a battered van filled with boxes and suitcases. The early morning drive made Steve Harrington glow golden in the rising sun, his excited eyes hidden behind dark-tinted sunglasses as Robin Buckley snored in the passenger seat and Eddie Munson listened to metal at an ear-bleeding volume in his van and flipped Steve off with that big grin in the rearview mirror. They stopped for strong coffee and sweet pancakes and started a new chapter in the city. 

When you fell in love with Steve in 1990, he found a reason to stay in bed a little longer. A reason to slow down, soak up the sunshine glow you shone on him. 

You spent Saturday nights with friends, a patchwork group cheering on Corroded Coffin and selling T-shirts and tapes at a merch table when they scored a bigger venue and a bigger crowd. Movie nights and takeout Chinese food and a stack of new and old movies from Blockbuster. Date nights at swanky bars and restaurants, with flickering candles and pizza on the way home because you didn’t want the night to end yet. You spent hours in bed together, night and morning, talking about everything under the rising sun and dwindling moon, learning about each other’s life and mapping each other’s body with kisses and gentle touches. 

In the morning he gazed at your sleepy softness and took his own pulse to make sure he wasn’t dying. No heart attack, just falling in love.

He brought you cups of coffee and sweet pastries from the bakery a block away when his limbs felt restless. He always got back into bed with you to cuddle and while away the morning without a moment wasted. With Steve, those mornings were syrupy slow; he worshipped you between your thighs and held your hands as the headboard bashed against the wall.

You became Mrs. Steve Harrington in the spring of ‘94. 

A small wedding. A big party for your friends. A honeymoon week where every morning felt like a perfect lazy Saturday.

When Steve found his reason to stay in bed, together you created a reason that kept you from it. 

Bethany Rose Harrington. Born June 21st 1995. 

Beth had her Daddy’s eyes and her Mama’s nose, and the sweetest little dimples in her smiley pink cheeks. She was her Daddy’s little doughnut, her Mama’s little bee. She inherited Steve’s charm and wrapped her extensive collection of doting uncles and aunts right around her tiny finger. She took after you in the way that Steve was completely and utterly in love with her. 

Just like her Dad, Beth liked to start the day early. After a few weeks of seeking out and settling into a routine, Steve spent the earliest part of the day feeding his little Bethie her bottle of milk in the cosy armchair nestled in the corner of her pale yellow nursery. As he watched her big brown eyes gaze and blink, felt her tiny fist wrap around his finger, Steve decided that these were the happiest mornings of his life. 

On those soft and slow mornings, you could hear Steve’s low murmur to your little girl through the baby monitor when his excitement to see her gummy smile or stop her sad fat tears bypassed the off-switch. You fell back asleep to the sound of Steve telling Beth about how the Cubs and the Bulls (their teams now) were doing this season, or about the walk in the park you were going to go on once ‘beautiful mama’ was awake. He sang to her; never typical lullabies, Queen and ABBA and Dusty Springfield. 

Steve basked in the joy of her little smiles, soaked in the soft cooing noises as Beth found her voice to talk back to her Daddy. When she fell asleep again, milk-drunk with her cheek against his heartbeat, Steve watched the morning sky shift and brighten and listened out for the sound of your waking time. The soft thud and shuffle from bed to bathroom, running water, your yawn and stretch, the gentle steps to seek and find him and your little treasure. You filled reams of camera film, documenting Steve as a Dad, your little girl's first weeks and months. Lit by morning light, by afternoon sun and the shade of the tree in your yard, and dusky nighttime lit by nightlights.

When your laundry list of chores allowed it, you took one of your three options on those mornings of parenthood - take turns to bask in the warmth of lavender and milk-scented baby cuddles while the other showered; bring the sleeping beauty back to your bed to gaze at the ten fingers and ten toes you had created together; or leave the sleepy and full-tummied grub to sleep in her crib again to spend the slow dawn hours holding each other and trading kisses, and knotting yourselves up in the sheets together once the doctor gave you the all-clear and a prescription for birth control. 

You did plenty of all three. 

Summer turned to Autumn, then Winter, and Steve balanced being a father and husband with keeping a roof over your heads and the final year of his programme to get his qualification to become a guidance counsellor. His mornings with Beth were part of his routine, leaving her smiling and drooly for you when he kissed his girls goodbye. Missing him during full days of supervised sessions and hours in the college library when he wasn’t in classes bonded you and Beth, thick as thieves and lovestruck for the golden Harrington boy-turned-man. You made sure that he never missed a moment with how many pictures you took, and Beth saved all of her firsts for when he was home. You coached her to say ‘dada’ in Steve’s absence and he sobbed happy tears when she parroted it back. (He had been coaching her to say ‘mama’ during their early mornings together).

Your late nights of talking turned to early-to-bed nights, sleeping when the baby slept and when your little home was some semblance of clean and tidy. Steve fell asleep to the sound of Bethie’s breath on the monitor, your heart under his cheek and the soft stroke of your fingers in his hair, along the length of his arm. 

Both of you were exhausted. Neither of you had ever been happier. 

When he graduated in the Summer, you and Beth cheered and clapped for your golden boy along with his best friends - the loudest bunch in the college auditorium. A picture of the Harrington trio - Steve in his shirt and tie and graduation gown balancing a smiley baby and his degree as you kiss his cheek and tickle Beth’s tummy for the camera - was placed with pride on his desk when he started a counsellor job that landed in his lap in the late summer of ‘96. He coached basketball two afternoons a week on the side; it was perfect for him.

You go back to work part-time and you balance taking care of Beth and each other with the utmost care. With help from your family and Steve’s trust fund from the Harrington’s, you make it work. You are what he holds dear, pride of place in the centre of his chest, once vacant and hollow. The gaping space he yearned to fill with the wrong friends, the wrong girls, watery beer and too many cigarettes. 

By the Fall of ‘97, Steve had learned to sleep again. Sleep when the baby sleeps. Enjoy your days off. Enjoy every moment. He is. He’s so tired but never happier. 

This morning, you wake first. 

Your little house in the Chicago suburbs is bathed in autumn darkness on a lazy Saturday.  Six a.m. and Steve snores peacefully. 

Beth is silent, dreaming of her two favourite things: fairies and pancakes. That top five list favourites is rounded out by her Daddy and Mama and Mrs. Murphy’s orange cat that visits the backyard. 

The littlest Harrington is an early bird too, twirling in your tummy beneath Steve’s protective hand. Until Steve can take the morning shift, you are the early riser.

Beth is your sleepy little dreamer, she loves her bed like her Mama. She sneaks in between you and Steve (and the bump now too) when she wakes too early; you spend those mornings gazing and counting fingers and toes again like when she was a tiny thing. 

This baby however seems to take after her father’s love of sport, the way she practices the aim and strength of her kicks on your bladder. You don’t officially know yet (they were less than cooperative at the last ultrasound), but you know it’s a girl. Steve swayed to boy for a day or two before realising you were right. Maybe next time… 

The flush and sigh-groan from your aching back pulls Steve from sleep. When you pad back in from the little bathroom, he’s just about upright and wild-haired. 

“Y’okay?” Eyes swollen with sleep, he reaches blindly for you to help you back into the cosy nest of blankets. 

“Mm, needed to pee.” 

You try to keep your cold feet away but Steve sandwiches them between his own size fourteen and always warm feet. His lips brush your shoulder and the back of your neck when you settle into a comfortable position; Bump dictates what will suffice as ‘comfortable’ and settles under her father’s comforting hand. Harrington’s magic touch is famed in your home; settling gassy babies and working out knotted shoulders, fixing leaky faucets and carrying all of the groceries inside in two heavy handfuls, making shadow-puppet shows on the bedroom wall and holding back your hair when you’re not well. 

Slowly, small-spooned by Steve’s bigger body, you drift again. Sleep comes and goes like an inconsistent tide, and you are anchored safely in his arms. Baby names ebb and flow into your tired head and you wish Steve was awake to tell you what he thought of ‘Heather’ or ‘Ava’. Whether your (very slow) re-read of Little Women was influencing you too much to ‘Josie’. You wonder about how much candy you should get for the trick-or-treaters, and whether Beth will be too scared to help you answer the door to them this year. 

You wish he was awake - because you always wish your every waking moment was spent with Steve Harrington - but you’re so glad he is sleeping soundly, snoring sweetly behind you. You wish you could take more responsibility, take the pressure he puts on his own shoulders from him, but this pregnancy is less easy than the first and you hate that you can’t do it all anymore. You take solace in the fact that Steve is asleep, not awake worrying or nesting. 

Turning in his sleepy hold, you place his hand back on the bump to keep the littlest Harrington settled and content, and watch your handsome husband look like the teenager you wish you had known. You map the laughter lines instead of the ones etched by worry, counting the happy memories (which are insurmountable) as you fall back to sleep with him at last. 

Sleeping Beauty herself slumbers on until almost 8 a.m., meaning that both you and Steve sleep until almost 8 a.m. too - later on you will toast coffee (decaf for you) over that parent win. For the next few months, the weekends mean Steve will be hitting snooze on his body clock when the chances arise. 

This morning Beth’s little voice sings his name down the hall. Steve wakes with a smile and kisses your sleepy face as you stretch and peel your eyes open. 

“You’re up, Coach.” Your voice is a tired yawn, mumbled into the fluffy duvet Steve untangles himself from.

“Bring her in for cuddles please.” You pout for a tired kiss and hum happily when he grants your wish. 

Steve’s ankles crack as he walks from your room to Beth’s. She’s wide awake and wild-haired, matching her Dad, and she sits up in her bed with her bunny-teddy clutched in her fist. 

“Hi bumblebee,” he gasps, his tiredness swept away by his genuine joy to see her. Steve lays down on her too-small-for-him baby bed and pretends to get comfy to sleep again. “Sleepover?” he asks, opening his arm for her. 

“Nooooo, yo’bed!” Her sweet voice crackles with sleepiness and the remnants of a cold she picked up as the seasons changed. 

In the warmth of your bed, you can hear the mini-eye-roll she’s giving her Dad as he plays up to her dramatics. Uncle Dustin has a lot to answer for. 

“Bethie,” you call from your nest, “I miss you.” 

Steve watches with barely restrained amusement as her face beams bright like sunshine before leaving him in the lurch to seek out Mama. “Hey! What about me?!” 

You can hear his grumbling as he hauls himself up from the tiny toddler bed but your focus is the bundle of sunshine that bounds her way to your room in her sky-blue jammies. Pushing messy hair from her face, she squeaks happily as you lift her before Steve can beat you to it. You didn’t want another moment apart from your girl and she burrows against your chest under the toasty-warm duvet. 

“Morning Betty Boop.” You press kisses to her smiling face and hear Steve stomp and flop back into the room and into the bed. 

“Is Daddy not invited to this love-in? Just for Mama and Beth?” he asks, scowling at your smushed-together faces. 

You cuddle Beth and stroke her back as the girl shifts her impish gaze to Steve. “What do you think, Betty? Kisses for Dada?”

She can never ever resist him and reach-grabs out to be gathered in his big strong arms for kisses and cuddles. 

Steve lights up, features relaxing from his feigned annoyance, as he gives and receives morning kisses. You are gathered up alongside the titch of a girl and with her help, you smother kisses all over Steve’s happy face. 

“Never ever not invited to the love-in, my love.” You kiss his shadowed jaw once and tuck yourself under his arm. 

“Kiss d’baby?” Beth’s messy head pops up and looks at you hopefully. 

“You wanna say good morning to Baby?” Steve asks, and she nods. “Mama?”

“I think she’s asleep, but I bet she’ll wake up when she hears Big Sis and Dada.” Beneath the pitched tent of the duvet, you lift Steve’s t-shirt and present the rounded bump for inclusion in the morning love-in.

Beth has been immensely eager to meet her baby since she took notice of your bump and realised the new baby was actually in there.

The little girl’s pillow-soft cheek rests against the curve as she hugs around your middle. “Moh’nin, baby.” Her little voice is still a little stuffed up, nasal. 

Your heart and tears swell as you watch her with Steve, who kisses the bump and murmurs hello. You’re at that point of pregnancy where you could cry when the wind changes and you cover your eyes so Beth won’t go out in sympathy-tears with you. 

Steve’s big hand squeezes your hand as he distracts Beth, who babbles in toddler talk to her sibling. His eyes are wide and worried as he looks up and sees the hitch of your chest. He’s had that worried look since you bled at ten weeks and the doctor put you on bed rest, just three weeks into actually knowing you were pregnant. Everything has settled bar your hormones and emotions; two perfect heartbeats, an active healthy baby, a happy but tired Mom. Steve is more scared now than he was with Beth but pretends to be brave for you.

You swipe at your hot tears, dry your hand in your t-shirt before reaching down to stroke through Steve’s thick hair. 

“M’okay.” You give him a watery smile. “She’s just… so sweet, Stevie.” 

Moving up to lie along your side, Steve wipes your cheek and presses a kiss to the trail of the tears left behind. “Sweetest. Sweet Bee. Feelin’ okay?” 

His hand stays on top of your bump and then passes over Bethany’s bedhead when she looks up curiously. 

Seeing that she is missing out, Beth decides she has had enough and wants to cuddle with you instead of the baby who won’t kick back hello. She wiggles up to lie on Steve’s chest, little fingers poking into the freckles and moles as he pulls the duvet back around you all like a cosy cocoon. 

“Feeling good. You okay?”

Steve has tucked away his worry again, but you still see the pinch in his brow - though the curious little fingers might be the reason for that. 

“Peachy.” He chases the poking fingers with a growling kiss, pulling a shrieking giggle from Beth. “Hello, can I help you? Why are we poking Daddy this morning, huh?” 

You giggle with Beth and kiss where her fingers had pressed, modelling the gentle sweetness you know she possesses in multitudes. “Poor Daddy. See, Betty? Gentle kissies.” A kiss is snuck onto his mouth for good measure. 

“Daddy,” Beth sing-songs, patting his cheek lovingly. 

“Bethie,” Steve sings back to her, echoing her melody. He accepts a wet baby-kiss as you curl close to them both.

You twirl a finger in the messy wave of her hair. “What will we do today? Do you want to get some library books? Or we could… go to the park?” 

Steve pats her back gently. “Oh wow. All the possibilities, huh?” His lips press to Beth’s forehead as she cuddles up to him, her fingers distracted by the gold chain he wears around his neck. “Gentle, please.” He kisses her head again and looks at you. “We can do both… Go get a t-r-e-a-t?” 

You smile and nod, covering Steve’s hand on Beth’s small back. “I like t-r-e-a-ts. What do you want to do, big guy?” 

Steve’s fingers slot with yours. His lips brush your head as you share his pillow - the firm one to help with his neck pain. “Just be with you two. Could stay right here all day and I’d be the happiest guy.” 

You press your nose against his cheek and close your eyes; you’re both surrounded by your favourite people, it is utter bliss. 

“I love you.” Your voice is soft and tired against his stubbly jaw. 

“Love you. So much, babe.” 

Steve tilts his head so you can share a morning-breath-be-damned kiss. He wishes he had woke up sooner, before the wide-eyed toddler, so that he could have showered you with kisses, made out like teenagers (despite the baby bump between you). 

“No! Me!” The frustrated little whine makes you smile apologetically to each other, chancing one more peck before you both look to scowling Beth. 

“Sorry, Bee. Mama’s too delicious for me to resist.”

“Steve!” you tuck your face in his neck as you laugh, an affectionate headbutt. 

“What? The kid’s gotta know.”

The two-year-old smushes her face to her Dad’s chest, still too little to comprehend her Dad’s silly banter when she just wants to be the centre of both of your attention. You have a few months left to figure that out before the baby arrives, but it scares you that she might feel like she’s not the best thing that ever happened you (bar her Dad, of course). 

Your pout matches hers and you push back the stinging Mom Guilt Tears. She is only coaxed away with sweet little cheek-kisses from you as you hum-sing Take a Chance on Me (accompanied by Steve’s tapping fingers on her back ‘take a chance, take a chance, take a, take a chance-chance.)

The girl's smile splits her frustrated face, a quiet giggle as she is serenaded by her current favourite song (you have just got I Was Made For Lovin’ You out of your head after Steve had introduced her to KISS in the car). Her little arm hooks around your head as you whisper how much you love her, soft voice tickling her ear and cheek. 

Beth’s laughter coaxes a fluttering kick against your belly, which Steve feels against his side as you spoon against him. He wears the same wide-eyed joy on his face every time he has felt your babies kick. 

“Oo, she’s awake again. Finally joining the party.” You rest your hand against the side of your rounded belly and telepathically tell the tiny one how much you love them too, how you can’t wait to meet them but please stay in there until they’re fully cooked and ready. 

Steve’s free hand - the one not keeping Beth upright as she sits up on his torso - joins yours and echoes your telepathic communication to the littlest Harrington - I love you, I can’t wait to hold you, please stay safe in there and be nice to your Mom. 

His wide palm on your bump settles the fluttering before she aims her kick right against it Hi Dad! Okay, Dad!

You share a secret little smile with him and kiss his cheek as his eyes shimmer before rolling onto your achy back, feeling the satisfaction of the pop and crack as your spine relaxes against the mattress. Steve’s hand stays on your belly, and you hug his arm to your chest, as Beth sings her toddler-babble version of an ABBA mashup for you both from her throne. 

Steve’s face hurts from smiling as he listens to her, hears some semblance of the lyrics in Beth-speak. He doesn’t remember mornings like this with his parents, few and far between were the times he was even allowed to cuddle with them in bed on a weekend morning.

You glance at his face, watching shifting emotions come and go as he remembers, tries to forget and focuses on the memories being made right now in your cosy nest of a bed. You squeeze his arm and hold his hand on your belly - matching gold wedding rings clicking against each other as your fingers intertwine. 

Steve squeezes your hand, three pulses. There is simply nowhere he would rather be. 

[wolf-feathers12]

Big e and parenting/how to raise a kid in the Palaeolithic times. And the horrors of writing down word vomit.

TW: CHILD ABUSE,

From what I understand about warhammer there's this general consensus that big E KNEW how to be a better parent but just chose not to be one.

And it got me thinking.

What was parenting like back in the Palaeolithic times? (The emperor of mankind was apparently born in the 8th Millennium B.C. and again from my limited understanding this is sorta still apart of the Palaeolithic times? If anyone can clarify this I'd appreciate it!)

Now I'm no historian but I think it would be safe to assume that infant death would be very high. Meaning that you would try to have as many kids as possible because you don't know if they will all survive and kids weren't seen as their own person more of as workers or helpers

Maybe even tools???

Again that's a huge thing that ive simplified and I think it's also fair to say that there were many many communities where family relationships were far more nuanced but it does make me wonder.

If you grew up in a society where you could die from getting a simple cut and child abuse wasn't a thing (I'm picturing something like a Spartan society where being beaten to an inch of Ur life is seen as a building character moment) it was want made you a MAN.

Plus I don't really think neolithic fathers would be very understanding or supportive parents (having a relationship wasn't a goal surviving was kinda thing?)

Basically what I'm picturing is big e having one of those "I'm never going to treat my kids like this >:C" moments but by treating kids he's referring to the fact that he won't break their legs because they talked back kinda thing?

Big E strikes me as the kinda parent (in a modern au maybe?) to when called out on their neglect of their kids will be genuinely quite confused

"I never beat you guys? And you always had food ect??? I know abuse and I never abused you so stop complaining. :O"

Also if you were immortal and had lived since the Neanderthals (personal headcanon is that E is part Neanderthal or something hehehehe) the way you relate to people and have relationships with them would probably be a bit fucked? Add to that the fact that he's stuck in a BIGGER picture type mindset (AUTISM???) and you have a recipe for disaster.

That's not to say that big E is entirely blameless or should be wobberfied (you can if you want to lol) but I think there's a lot more at play then just "big E is an evil father"

If your still reading this then Ur a pretty cool person fr. Also my understanding of warhammer lore is limited so if there's something in cannon that directly contradicts this then pls let me know yo! >_<

thanks and have a great day! :D