#rip group therapy gang

[lemoneychicken]

happy 4/20 (drawn by the beloved @decompose1 )

#runes immature party #rip group therapy gang

[derpdrawz4541]

group therapy gang

#rip #rip2 #camp rip #camp rip season two #rune's immature party #runes immature party #obelisks mature game #group therapy gang #rip ragdoll #rip flash #rip gelly #rip popup #rip destroying angel

[manjjiros]

okay but sweet post-juvie kazutora who goes to weekly therapy seeing you for the first time and giving in to his repressed darker impulses. idk i can just see yandere!kazutora so vividly !! stalking and kidnapping you bc he wants you all to himself <3

GROUP THERAPY

kazutora hanemiya x fem!reader

warnings: dark content, yan!kazu, stalker!kazu, implied sex, inaccurate representation of group therapy, manipulation, kidnapping, lying about condom usage, ask to tag

notes: cass this has been in my brain ever since you sent it. about 2.3k.

from the ASM: [he bumps into you as he passes by you in the casino, jumping in fear and dropping a file that had been confiscated from kazutora’s desk. the photos that scattered all over the floor were all… you. they were all of you. the ASM apologizes profusely and scrambles to pick them up.]

the smell of burnt coffee and donuts.

the low hum of old overhead lights, one of them flickering, making it a little hard to see very clearly in the damp basement of the church.

two, then one, then two, then three, then one; people filtered into the basement and sat at each of the chairs that were placed in a circle, though it became more of an oblong shape as one by one people pulled them back to be able to sit in them.

kazutora had gotten there a half hour early, dropped off by his parole officer who told him he would be back to pick him up at seven thirty, sharp. he sat in the stiff chair, hands folded between his knees, eyes drifting dazedly over each person that arrived and took a seat in the circle.

group therapy would help, the parole officer had grunted to him from the driver’s seat, give you a chance to talk to other kids like you. i’ve seen it help others. 

the therapist took a seat two chairs away from kazutora, dragging his attention away from the door for a split second to study him. the guy looked like he was just under thirty, some stereotypically upbeat type. he let out a breath, certain that this place would make him rip his hair out and have another breakdown, until…

you.

you came in in a flurry, worried about the possibility of being late. you carried yourself with the confidence of a small dog, shaking and nervous as you gently closed the heavy doors behind yourself to try and stay under the radar.

it was too late for that. kazutora’s cold, intense gaze followed every tiny step you took towards the circle of people in the center of the room.

your lamblike gaze shifted around nervously for an empty seat, finding none outside of the one directly next to kazutora. he was new to the group, unknown to all of the regular members, and no one wanted to try their luck with a guy who looked like he could be part of a gang. you didn’t have a choice, though, and hurried around the edge of the circle before pulling the chair back to sit with a breath. “sorry, i hope you don’t mind,” you murmured to him.

it felt like his chest was being squeezed. he wanted to eat you alive.

“it’s fine,” he smiled lightly at you, shrugging his shoulders.

you smelled like freshly cut flowers and the summer sun. he wanted to brush that lock of hair over your shoulder to reveal the column of your throat and sink his teeth into your soft skin. what did you taste like? sugar, maybe? were you as sweet as you seemed?

what was your name?

he opened his mouth to ask, but got cut off by the therapist clasping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. he said his name, but kazutora didn’t hear it, nor did he want to. any voice that wasn’t yours should be silenced.

he shook his head to himself and slumped back into his chair. he shouldn’t be thinking like that. those thought processes are what landed him in this shithole anyway, and now he was being forced to sit through these hour-long group sessions to listen to other people complain and whine.

it did bring him to you, though. he supposed it wouldn’t be so bad.

“... and we have a newcomer today, just registered this morning. do you want to introduce yourself?”

kazutora blinked slightly, rejoining the conversation and glancing around. “kazutora hanemiya,” he gave a curt wave, eyes darting over to yours to watch you smile.

“hi kazutora,” everyone in the circle replied, as if it were some kind of alcoholics’ anonymous meeting. maybe it was. maybe he was in the wrong place, it would explain the coffee and the gorgeous girl sitting next to him that he wanted to devour.

“so, kazutora, what brings you in to join us?” the therapist tilted his head, a mild smile on his face.

kazutora hummed softly, shifting in his seat. “i was part of a gang. i’m not anymore. i got caught doing gang stuff.” it was a complete bluff – shinichiro’s blood was still on his hands. it’d been years, but the blood never came off. “theft, mostly.”

he felt himself smile back at the therapist, calm and collected, before turning his sights back on you. you looked timid, shrinking slightly under his gaze before smiling back at him. 

“we’ll get you to open up soon enough. let’s get started, shall we?” the therapist was quick to move on, clearly wanting kazutora to not feel pressured at his first visit, but he didn’t care. he wasn’t impressed or even vaguely interested in what these other pitiful people had to say. it only mattered when you told a recent story of how you held yourself back from stealing an expensive purse when you realized it was missing a security tag.

a kleptomaniac, it seemed that was your only crime. well, technically, it was grand theft, but hey, it was nothing in the long run. something that would be sealed up because you were a kid when you did it. 

kazutora listened to your story as if you were a siren, and he was a lost man at sea, swimming closer and closer to you. he could feel the corners of his mind start to warp as he watched the way your lips curled around your words, enticing him closer. he wanted to feel you, to hold you, to get you that fucking bag you’re talking nonstop about-

the session finished with your story, and it would be a short five minutes until his parole officer would arrive to take him back to his tiny apartment on the outskirts of the district, where no one could reasonably get to him without at least a bike and a semblance of direction.

he watched you stand and make your way to the refreshments, your fingers dancing over the donuts before scooping up a donut hole to take a bite out of it. 

his feet moved before he could stop himself, and soon enough he was at your side, grabbing a tasty, albeit chalky, treat for himself. “good thing they give us some sugar after making us spill our guts like that, right?”

“huh?” you turned to lift your head and look up at him, blinking in surprise at his sudden presence next to you. “oh, yeah, i guess so. today wasn’t so bad. sometimes miki cries, and then we all really need the sugar.”

“that doesn’t sound fun at all.” kazutora stuck his bottom lip out as he chewed on the tasteless donut in his hand. you shrugged. 

“it’s the way of the sessions. helps to make everyone feel seen, or something…” you trailed off before throwing him a smile that made his head spin. “you’re… kazutora, right? sorry, i listened when you said it, but the session felt really long today.”

“that’s right. and you’re y/n.” he pointed at you with his half eaten donut, sprinkles caught on his lips, and you felt yourself start to giggle.

“right. it’s nice to meet you. will you come back next week?”

“have to. it’s part of my-” he thought briefly, mind scrambling. he probably shouldn’t mention juvie, his recent release at eighteen, his real crimes. “-deal with my parents. they told me i had to keep coming if i wanted a roof, y’know?”

“oh, right,” you believed him, falling easily into the idea that he was also just a kleptomaniac, just like you. “my parents were really upset when i got arrested. they got me out on bail, but enrolled me in this program. it’s helped, it’s a good thing.”

kazutora watched the twitch of your lips as you bit down on the rest of the donut hole between your fingers. you weren’t sure.

you shrugged and reached for a napkin to wipe at your lips, the residue of your lip gloss staining it pink as you headed for the stairs leading back up to the main lobby of the church. “well, we’re glad you’ve joined us. we should probably go, they like to give us the coffee and stuff, but if we hang out for too long, they shut the lights off.”

“right,” kazutora nodded his head and followed you out, watching the way your form blended into the shadowy corridors of the stairwell. 

before he knew it, you were gone, disappearing into the back of the church to exit into the back parking lot, and he was sliding easily into the back seat of his parole officer’s car. 

the interaction was brief. far too brief to have even been a hit on your radar. but for kazutora, you had suddenly become a beacon of light, untainted by the blood on his hands. 

he needed to know everything. he needed you.

in two month’s time, kazutora had worked himself into a point of almost-high status amongst the other delinquents in the group. he could play into his charm, he could play into being just a petty little thief who got caught up in the wrong crowd. the tokyo manji gang made me do it, he would say, crocodile tears dripping down his cheeks, i wanted to be just like mikey, but… he was someone no one else should be like. 

you had rubbed his back that day, and it felt like his entire body had been lit on fire. he pumped his cock holding his shirt to his nose that night in bed, convincing himself he could still smell your lavender lotion on the fabric as he imagined it was you on top of him. 

in two month’s time, kazutora had learned every single thing he possibly could about you. your name, age, your childhood home, how you walked to your college campus, the routes you alternated between to be safe. he loved to watch you browse in the high-end stores between classes, walking into the luxury districts and perusing the items you knew you could pocket but told yourself not to. he knew that soon enough he would be the one using blood soaked sticky fingers to get you whatever your little heart craved.

you wanted luxury? he could get luxury. you wanted someone stable, someone loving, someone to fill the void your dear old dad left? he knew about that too, of course, and he could fix it all.

in his head, you had become an angel, someone he craved to corrupt and ruin only for himself. the longer you kept yourself away from your human depravities, the more kazutora craved you.

two months was more than enough time to get in your good graces, to be considered a friend, someone to rely on, someone to trust. and trust him you did, giving him your phone number and letting him start to infiltrate your life outside of therapy sessions together.

you put your faith into the reformed criminal who had barely washed his hands after the crime, the blood and grime still caked under his fingernails as he rode up to you on his bike and offered you a lift to a nearby cafe after your last class. 

“funny seeing you around here, kazu! i didn’t know you liked to ride around here.” you giggled as you climbed onto the back, wrapping your arms around him.

“normally i don’t, but i guess it was just fate to bump into you here.” he smiled at you over his shoulder before bringing you to the cafe he knew you liked, the one where he got his favorite photo of you chewing on a strawberry pastry with the cutest smile on your lips.

he wouldn’t sleep unless he saw that smile on your face up close and in person, and as he offered to get you whatever you wanted and you asked for just that pastry, he knew his wish would come true. 

your little excursion with kazutora was fun. he was so sweet, so kind to you, reaching across the table with a napkin to dab at your cheek when some of the flaky pastry stuck to your skin. it made your cheeks feel warm, your eyes linger on his mouth. 

it didn’t take him long to offer you a ride back to his place, to check out his new living quarters that his ‘parents’ were helping him pay for. 

you accepted, like a lamb to the slaughterhouse, consenting to your own kidnapping as he drove you both home for the very first time.

he led you upstairs and into the small apartment, letting you in first before closing and locking the door behind himself. the place was small, well-kept, tidy. it was just a small one-bedroom, but enough for two people. 

kazutora was charming. kazutora was kind. kazutora had eyes that turned into deep black pools when he looked at you, when his hands landed on your waist and his teeth sunk into your skin. kazutora was a gentleman, getting you off on his tongue before sinking his cock into your tight heat.

kazutora cared about you. he definitely had a condom on, you heard him fumble with the wrapper. kazutora didn’t make your shoulder bleed when he bit you too hard, you had been overwhelmed with pleasure and had gotten confused.

kazutora. kazutora. kazutora. 

you thought only of him as you drifted to sleep in his bed, just for a short nap, you had murmured. you thought only of him as you felt something cold and a bit heavy snap around your ankle.

you had stepped on a bear trap without even knowing it, and now it had its rusty, bloodied teeth sunk deep into your flesh and muscle and bone. 

kazutora would be your everything, whether you liked it or not. he had made sure of that. at least you would have the best bags his fingers could grab, right?

#kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #♧ — kazutora #♧ — dark content #♧ — kidnapping #♧ — yandere #♧ — manipulation #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #ask to tag #♤ — regular: cass

[ambrossart]

Hello, my question is about the Bowers gang and the music. I simply found it curious and fun and since Victor also seems to be a music fan and invited Evelyn next time to listen to music, my question is about her musical tastes, if she has a group. favorite or what genre of music do they listen to or if they have a favorite singer since Belch is a character who is characterized by the fact that he loves Metallica, so he asks me what type of music would each one listen to, Belch, well, he listens to metallica and anthrax (he has a band t-shirt and it appears in a movie if I remember correctly) Victor in one of the chapters says that he likes an Aerosmith song but from there I don't have an idea of ​​the bands or singers I heard, much less Henry or Patrick, I feel Patrick would be the strangest, he doesn't even seem like a person who listened to music or is a fan of someone and Henry doesn't seem that way to me either, and also it's from the 80's so it's even more interesting because I love the music of the 80's. 80s and 70s.

First of all, I absolutely love questions like this! I’ve had the worst week, so this was a very welcome mental vacation. Thank you for this.

Anyway, let’s discuss everyone’s music preferences! I’m just gonna break this down character by character to make my life easier.

— Evelyn

Evelyn likes whatever songs catch her ear on the radio. Music isn’t a huge part of her life, so she doesn’t really have a favorite song or artist. She has songs she likes (a lot of those classic 80s pop hits), sure, but I doubt she knows the names of most of them. So far, I think the only artists I’ve specifically mentioned her liking are Olivia Newton-John, the B-52s (literally just for “Love Shack” probably), and The Beach Boys, but we’ll discover more of her interests later. It’s not a major storyline by any means, but it does get explored.

— Vic

This may be a departure from canon, but in my mind, Victor Criss is an early adopter of the whole 90s grunge aesthetic. Messy hair. Ripped jeans. Flannel. Oversized shirts. Drinking coffee and smoking weed. If this story took place in the 90s, Vic would be all up in that grunge scene. I’m honestly super bummed I couldn’t go that route with him, but mark my words, that boy will go full grunge in college. He will.

Since this story doesn’t take place in the 90s, a lot of people (and by “people” I mean the characters in the story) probably assume Vic’s into heavy metal like Belch, but that’s not necessarily true. See, Vic is very picky about his music, and I don’t mean that in a snobby way at all (although Vic can be a little snobby about it). For him, music is therapy. Vic just wants to get really high, listen to some music, and escape himself for a while. And the wrong kind of music can be painfully grating to him, like to the point where it would cause him intense physical discomfort. That’s why he’s so picky.

So what kind of music does Vic like? I dunno… I could see him being into psychedelic rock, artists like Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, Cream, The Byrds, The Beatles, stuff like that. Vic is very private about his music, though. There’s a reason Christie Gibson can’t seem to figure him out.

It's also a pretty big deal that Vic has invited Evelyn to listen to music with him. Just saying.

— Belch

Next to Victor, Belch is probably the most serious about music. As we all know from the movie, heavy metal is his preference and his passion, but he’s also the kind of guy who can (secretly) appreciate a well-composed song regardless of its genre. That being said, Belch does tend to steer clear of the mainstream pop music scene… unless, of course, Christie Gibson is with him. Yeah, when those two are together, he pretty much lets her play whatever music she wants (because Belch is a good boyfriend).

— Henry

Yeah, I don’t think Henry is that serious about music. He listens to it, sure, everyone does, but it doesn’t impact his life significantly. Despite that, Henry’s tastes are probably very similar to Belch’s, simply because that’s how Henry gets exposed to most of his music: he listens to whatever Belch plays in the car. Apart from that, I could also see him being into bands like Led Zeppelin, Blue Öyster Cult, Deep Purple, Kansas, etc. But would he consider any of them his favorite band? Probably not, because Henry doesn’t have a favorite band.

Honestly, I think Henry has a very negative relationship with music in general. Anything that tries to tap into his emotions or influence his emotions, yeah Henry doesn’t like that. At all. He doesn’t wanna feel things. He doesn’t wanna think about his parents or his childhood. He wants all that shit to stay buried real deep.

— Patrick

For Patrick, all music sounds the same—and by that, I mean it’s all just “noise” to him. He doesn’t connect to it on any level, least of all emotionally.

In Chapter 5 (I think?) we saw Patrick using the radio kind of like a weapon. He purposefully messed with the knob to create the most annoying sounds his possibly could, hoping that it would drive the other guys in the car crazy. And it worked. Belch almost crashed the damn car. That pretty much sums up Patrick’s relationship with music. It’s just something else for him to manipulate and use for his entertainment.

So yeah, I could see Patrick listening to some really weird shit, like music that isn’t really music, but more like a bunch of random creepy/disturbing sounds put together. Patrick’s a weirdo. There’s no way he listens to traditional music.

___________

Okay, that's all I have to say on the subject. Thanks again for this ask! It was a lot of fun to think about. ❤️

#bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #it stephen king #it 2017 #answered asks #thanks for the ask! #it fanfiction #paper men #ambrossart

[vaggietheangel]

Could you just do headcanons what happens at the hotel on a day to day basis

Hey there hun! 🩷

Charlie organises a nice day for everyone. Niffty prepares breakfast, and Charlie suggests the make the pancakes into bear shapes.

Charlie holds group therapy. She passes around the "talking teddy". Everyone gets to say one reason they're in hell, and then pass him to the next person so they can talk. It's fine for a while until Alastor and Sir Pentious get into and argument and rip the teddy apart.

Vaggie helps Niffty with cleaning the hotel. Niffty is happy to have the help but doesn't show it. She yells at her for going too slow even though she's doing her best.

Charlie holds an art class. She recommds that Angel paint his pig instead of a Penis. Husk didn't want to paint but Charlie said anyone who participates gets a good noodle sticker. And he gets booze for every 5 stickers.

Angel offers to pierce Nifftys ears with a needle and ice cube. She starts bleeding, and they both freak out.

Alastor tried to drown Angel in the pool because he thought it was funny. Vaggie beat his ass and Charlie told him he was being rude.

Vaggie has Husk for one on one therapy. He's a man of few words. She can't get much out of him other than "meh." She's not the most patient person in hell, so it's not a great situation.

Husk dropped a bottle of booze and Keekee drank some when it hit the floor. He scolded her bc she's too young.

The gang do some gardening. Every time Alastor kills a flower by touching it, he blames Husk, and they fight again. Charlie has to stop gardening every time to defuse it.

Charlie brings home cupcakes for everyone to share as they play manopaly. Angel accuses Alastor of cheating and threatens to shove them so far up his ass that he can taste them.

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #hazbin vaggie #charlie morningstar #angel dust #Niffty #Alastor #husk #Sir pentious #kee kee hazbin hotel

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Alright I can’t sleep so it’s time for OJV headcanons that only myself will probably care about but who’s turn is it? Surprisingly not Kenny yet, but

Cartman.

• OrangeJuiceVerse Eric Cartman is an abrasive fuckwad, but he’s not actually Evil.

• He genuinely cares about his friends in his own fucked up way, but he will deny it every goddamn time. Like in hs he’ll give kenny a ride home when his shitty death trap car won’t start but he WILL insult him the whole way.

•this hasn’t been seen in the fics yet, but this mf starts a WEDDING PLANNING COMPANY called, you guessed it, CUPID ME. Marj actually got her degree in hospitality and helps him with it. Both the Style and Kenjorine weddings were GORGEOUS and so personal.

•he didn’t go to college himself but still lived with the group in their weird little house close to campus, and was the one to dubb the place “SP Survivors Safehouse” and named the EXTREMELY dangerous staircase the Widowmakers.

•was the drum major senior year but was incredibly lazy about it, just wanted a “position of power” (only got the position bc he’s an okay clarinet player and his mom slept with the assistant director)

•definitely fights with Kyle growing up ofc because as a child, he WAS truly evil. Like sociopathic. In 6th grade he FINALLY gets some mental help and is surprisingly good about keeping up with the cocktail of antipsychotics and various other shit, plus therapy and trying really hard to empathize with others.

^on that note he still ACTS LIKE A TOTAL DICK most of the time because he thinks it’s funny, but also because he is terrified of anything changing in their group and ya can’t teach an old mr kitty new tricks

• has the most OUT OF POCKET INSULTS ever and is SHOCKINGLY good at naming things. He coined the phrase “Sadsack” too.

• most of them are to mess with kyle of course. Some of his favorites are “pack it up, Fiddler On The Roof”, calling him a burning bush, prince of Egypt, things of that nature. HOWEVER!!!

•the rest of the gang accepted long ago that Cartman was always just gonna call them names and be a general jerk, but they SET UP RULES AS TO WHAT HE CANT DO/SAY!

• in high school, they implement the “Fuckwad Jar”.

• the rules of the jar are as follows: he can rip on his friends, but the SECOND something he does or says genuinely hurts someone, he has to put a dollar in. No exceptions.

• for example, he can roast Stan for being a “tree hugging hippie” and call him a buttplug, “photosynthesizing dildo”, but he CANT call him an alcoholic or try to bring home a taxidermied dog

• he’s not ACTUALLY for real transphobic, but if he tries to make a joke about Marj for shits and giggles, JAR!

• since his favorite target is Kyle, he has the most shit. He DOES still make fun of him for being Jewish, but ANYTHING GENUINELY ANTISEMITIC and ESPECIALLY ww2 “jokes” get the Jar. He’s also not allowed to say SHIT about his body, eating habits, or make ED jokes (this was a rule Stan made on his bfs behalf). Once, he made a concentration camp /ed joke COMBO while only Kyle and Marj were in the room. Kyle completely froze, but Marj went over and FUCKING DECKED HIM. When the other two got home and Kyle got over the initial shock, they all forced him to cough up his entire wallet lmao

• he can call Kenny a perv and rip on him for being poor and “pocket sized with nothing in his pockets”, he’ll call him McWhoremick but the Kenny jar rule is that you DO NOT SUGGEST THAT HES DISLOYAL

•sry I just enjoy the concept of the jar lol

•has a lot of fun living with the gang during his gap year, holding on to that last little bit of childhood normalcy, but eventually he does have to move on. He winds up traveling for a while and eventually settles in Nevada and sets up his business

•has a cat and that thing is SPOILED AS HELL

•tries to send Stan one of those beef jerky club memberships every year for Christmas lmaooooo

#south park #headcanons #ojv #OrangeJuiceVerse #eric cartman #Cartman hcs

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

@doomsayings I had to make a separate post bc I have too much to say for a reply lmao. But I’M OBSESSED!! I literally only started Housewives to humor a friend but then it got me like immediately lol. I’m not current on either tbh tho. Housewives I’m on season… four? The one where Carlton and Joyce joined. And VPR I’m on season two. I’m trying to watch to keep up with both so that they’re like around the same time ish for any crossover content.

General thoughts, I’m in loooove with Lisa Vanderpump. She’s so sexy 😭😭😭 and she seems like the most genuine and normal of them? Hate that they’re all turning on her rn where I’m at in the season. Like leave her alone!!! She hasn’t done anything wrong ever.

Season one was really funny with the insane Kyle and Camille drama. Probably the only time Kyle has ever been justified imo sjdhdd. It was really cool how Camille turned around and became the least dramaful person over the subsequent seasons tho. Like she ended up leaving the show but Good For Her. It sounds like she had some like capital T Therapy and became way more mature and mellow.

Kyle was fun in like season one? But she’s been kind of pearl clutchy and annoying since idk. It’s good drama ig. But I’m neutral on her. I liked her relationship with Lisa a lot though rip it made a lot of sense why Lisa wanted to step back. And it’s been really funny how Kyle’s legit just acting like a jealous ex over it and being like “but why don’t you love me anymore :C” I was very 👀👀 when they kissed in Paris as a “joke” tho.

Adrienne seemed really chill and level headed at first at least next to the others and then got bizarrely touchy by the end. I love drama but hers seemed really petty all the time, so I was glad she left the show. Also she like transparently absolutely LOATHED her husband from the first episode, so I’m surprised it took her that long to get divorced.

Also past season but the Taylor thing was scary!!! It was insane seeing the “woman yelling at cat” meme in context and it’s like in the middle of her mental breakdown due to her abusive af husband.

I used to like Brandi a lot but she’s spiraled pretty bad? Like on intro she seemed genuinely really nice and just vaguely without a filter (same) and everyone was ganging up on her for objectively really minor things or interpreting her in bad faith all the time. But idk she got genuinely super racist with Joyce. And now she’s being mean to Lisa 💔

Carlton’s fun but insane. Love her weird goth house and how she and her husband are both clearly sleeping with the nanny. Also just all the very gay moments with Brandi and it’s hilarious how much she seems to hate Kyle for no reason?? Kyle could just be like “hi” and she’s like WHY WOULD YOU EVER SAY SOMETHING SO PASSIVE AGRESSIVE?? I’m sad to see her go but also shdhdfd she is just kind of crazy.

Joyce is meh. She’s just kind of boring. But very pretty. I am happy to stare at her. I know she doesn’t last past the one season either.

Yolanda seems deranged in her personal life but the most solid and reasonable in like the friend dynamic and when drama goes down. It’s really insane though how she’ll just say something completely crazy in passing and then gloss over it shdgd I think she also leaves soon? But she’s fun.

Kim’s also eh. She has soooo many issues but she handles them kind of annoyingly. Her life story is so fucked up and interesting though.

Re: VPR Stassi is probably my fave, she’s so messy 😭😭😭 That entire friend group is just awful! The way they have zero boundaries lmao. It’s like sitcom levels where they’re just together all the damn time. It also makes me feel better about adulthood lmao like these people act like insane teenagers!

Stassi is probs my fave. Love her mean girl energy. Scheana is vapid but probably like… the most solid friend? All the others are such assholes lmao. They never show up for each other!

I’m also not like there yet obvs but I have heard of Scandoval. So rn being at the point where Sandoval and Kristen break up (probably for good?) and the initial #vibes with Ariana, loosely knowing how it goes, is insaaaaane.

I also love every time there’s Housewives crossover, and they’re catering a party or something and are like “what the fuck is wrong with these rich people” shdhff like yeah.

So I’m having a great time! I love Mess!

#i ramble sometimes #doomsayings #reality tv thoughts #real housewives of beverly hills #rhobh

[whump-town]

"Paranoid" 

Should be in bed and asleep deadass rn but instead it's hotch's birthday so here's the worst thing i could think of:

Word count: 1500 words

The decay of late fall sets Hotch’s nerves on edge. Shadows begin to walk amidst the day again, the sun sets earlier and earlier every day and the wind comes back with a sharp clarity and the imminent threat of winter. Halloween decorations hang ripped from tree branches by the wind and unsupervised groups of teenagers. The leaves are wet, stomped to a soggy film overtop the concrete. Dry leaves skitter up the road, a dog barks two doors over. Hotch tries to narrow his focus on walking, watching his shoe touch down on the ground and propel him forward. Focus on walking rather than the twisted-up nerves in his stomach, the thought pressed up behind his eyes telling him to be afraid. To expect something, to be cautious. 

Jack will be home at seven-thirty, he has debate practice until five but he’s been on a kick the last month – using his own money to have dinner with friends. Hotch has met four teenagers, but supposedly their gang is made of six. They're nice kids, a little afraid of all the secrecy and the general state of how Hotch looks, but Jack is also a teen and Hotch won’t keep him home just because his life is fucked up. 

Hotch kicks his shoes off at the door, searching through the dark for any sight of Jack. He already knows Jack isn’t home – if he were, every light in the house would be on – but Hotch still tugs his jacket off and calls out anyway. It is his birthday, there might be a chance Jack has come home early to spend the day with him. He’s not exactly been father-of-the-year, Hotch isn’t even sure Jack thinks he’s a good dad, and up-rooting Jack’s entire life and moving blindly across the county did not win him any favors. 

Hotch falters as he steps into the kitchen, his brain processing the melted candles, wilted and drizzling wax down onto white icing. “Jack?” Hotch blows the last flame, a tiny flicker, out and turns around, heading for his room. “Jack!”

See and this is where it never makes any sense to him, that therapy business. Two different Bureau psychs told Hotch he was paranoid. He sees this little towny lady now, Cassandra. She’s thirty, but he’s certain she’s lying, and he struggles to get past the idea that she’s far too young to be dealing with a sad old man’s problems. He also hates her. She’s all about this feeling business, she has this annoying pillow with all the emotions on a wheel and she makes him point to what he feels before he’s allowed to speak. She’s also incredibly bossy and thinks he’s “hyper-vigilant”,  “paranoid”, and “uses logic to distance himself from his emotions”. 

Oh, he can’t wait to tell Cassandra about this. Paranoid, huh? Well, is it still called paranoid, Cassandra, if you’re right?

There’s a gun in the china cabinet. Hotch doesn’t even have to look, he keeps his back to the wall, as his hands push through the dust to where he knows, instinctively, his backup weapon is. There’s not a sound in the house – nothing. 

Clearing rooms is instinct, Hotch’s anxiety abates the moment the cold metal meets his palm. He knows what to do. Hotch feels like he breathes for the first time in months as he raises the gun, the thoughts clearing his head. Just silence. 

Hotch doesn’t realize how empty he’s left this house until he’s scanning the walls. He has nightmares about slamming Foyet’s head into his engagement photos. The way that the glass had broken, the shards in his fingers. Hotch can’t remember a lot from that fight but he does remember that, the way it felt through his hand as he drove Foyet’s head into the glass. 

He thinks about that a lot (it’s red on the feelings wheel, disgusted: embarrassed, appalled). 

Seeing the walls, the barren hall, and the empty living room make Hotch realize that he is the reason Jack doesn’t want to be here. This might be a house but he’s hardly made it anything else. It’s just empty rooms, a desolate, sad place Jack doesn’t want to come back to (that’s orange on the feeling wheel, sad: guilty, remorseful – he doesn’t like the feelings wheel but Hotch doesn’t half-ass anything, he’s got it memorized… that one’s come up in therapy actually). 

Hotch lowers the gun the moment he sees Jack and he’s blinded, black spots clouding his vision as something collides with the back of his head, snapping his jaw shut with an audible crack – the crack is not from his jaw, which does hurt, but nearly as much as getting hit with a gun. 

Hotch falls down to his knees and he shouts as his gun is kicked from his hand, a swift blow to his wrist that gives easily. Something wet and cold hits his face, a powerful assault that steals his breath as the substance burns its way down his throat. Hotch’s back hits the ground and he looks up at a mask. Foyet. His heart feels like it’s stopped, his face getting pale and really hot, and he lays paralyzed in fear. 

Peter Lewis pulls the mask off his face in one quick movement, revealing a smile behind the blacked-out mouth of the mask. “I thought that’d scare you,” he says, cheerily, holding the mask back from himself and smiling at it proudly. “I really had to search for this,” Lewis admits, tossing it onto Jack’s bed. “You know, the company that sold Mr. Foyet his mask made a huge profit after he escaped prison.” Lewis nods and then shrugs, “but they did stop selling them after you know who got killed… Haley. Your wife.” 

Hotch closes his eyes, willing his vision to clear when he opens them again. He can hardly focus his eyes and he can’t move his head but he can see Jack from the corner of his eye. He’s frozen, standing completely still with tears streaming down his face. There’s cake batter dried to his hands and shirt and flour all over his pants. 

“Now,” Lewis says, clearing his throat and offering Jack the gun. “We talked about this,” Lewis reminds Jack, “take the gun.” 

Jack sobs, choking but he takes the gun from Lewis. 

“Do it.” Hotch watches the way Lewis looks at Jack, that giant creepy smile trying to soothe Jack, attempting to calm him down so he can press the trigger. “You have to do it, Jack.” 

Jack closes his eyes, his right hand stretching the gun out in front of him but the rest of him turned from it. “No,” he manages, coughing as he grows more and more distressed. He’s hyperventilating, sobbing as he stands there. “Please.” 

“Hotch,” Lewis says, turning suddenly to him with a smile. “Tell Jack who killed his mother.” 

Hotch shuts his eyes, feeling the compulsion to speak, the ability, hit him like his mouth is watering. “I did.”

“Louder!”

“I did!” Hotch can feel himself shaking, the effects of the drugs are starting to hit him a little stronger. He feels light-headed, and suddenly so cold. “I did, it was my fault.”

Lewis tsks, “well there you have it.” He smiles at Jack, “now do it.”

Jack shakes and yelps when Lewis grabs his other hand, putting them both on the barrel and aiming the gun down at Hotch. “Do. It.” Lewis commands one last time. “You kill him or I kill you both.”

“Jack.” Jack’s attention turns gratefully to Hotch, wanting nothing more than for his father to just end this already. Figure this crap out and get them home – Jack just wants his dad, he doesn’t know how to do this. He’s just scared. 

“It’s okay,” Hotch is panting, whatever drug Lewis sprayed in his face fucking sucks. Hotch has not done a lot of drugs but he’s done enough, more than enough to know whatever this shit is, it’s awful. “It’s okay, buddy.” He can’t see anything anymore, the cake batter on Jack’s shirt has faded into the blue fabric. Black spots are blocking the center of his vision, trying to take him down into the cold with them. “ ‘s… ‘kay.”

Lewis nudges the gun back up, wrapping his arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Won’t be long,” Lewis whispers. “I told you the drugs were strong, he won't feel it. You can do it, Jack. It’s so much easier than you think.”

"Dad," Jack sobs, his knees shaking beneath him and he feels Lewis stand closer to him. "Dad–"

The gunshot is ignored, a solitary confusing sound but the sound of screaming, of gut-wrenching sobs, draws attention to the quiet little house.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner #i didn't say if i killed him dead or not #in my head #he's not dead #just to clarify #in my head what happens #is that hotch lives and the first thing he does is go tell Cassandra that he's not paranoid #bc he was right

[comorbidfascination]

The Girl Who Laughs

slasher masterlist here

Michael Myers is indisputably the most frightening patient at Smith's Grove, but one girl his age would rather take her chances with him than the ones who harass her.

(this one is completely sfw)

You had been hiding in your room all day, but a white-coat hauled you into the cafeteria for dinner. Whimpering and giggling under your breath, you scanned the room; just as sterile as any other. Most tables were filled on the side furthest from Tony and his little gang, but one had a single patient in a mask. Everyone knew not to approach the Shape, but you had never seen him do more than jerk away from white-coats like you did (though you suspected it was out of irritation rather than fear on his part).

Carefully, you took a seat at the opposite corner of the table, crossing your legs underneath and waiting to be called to get your food. The Shape made no indication toward your presence, but he knew you were there. Being in the same room meant he had observed you. He had become a specter of the juvenile ward, not allowed into group therapy and being locked up more often than not. You found it strange, as Michael seemed like a zombie most of the time; shambling from room to room the way you darted to hidden corners.

You could feel his eyes on you, despite them being covered by the homemade mask. A quiet, nervous giggle escaped your lips, but it was quickly hushed. From your pocket, you drew a piece of paper, needing something comforting and familiar to do with your hands. Crease. Flip. Fold. Flip. The sheet torn from a legal pad transformed within your fingers, becoming more and more a crane as you manipulated the medium. Michael turned his head, but you ducked yours further toward the paper. Your table number was called and you both stood, the crane disappearing back into your pocket.

Voices stirred in the background, just part of the mumbling, tumbling static. Arts and crafts was your happy place; Tony didn't care for it, so he stayed away, and you got to fold and fold and fold all you wanted. The construction paper was a little thick, but you made do. Green for a praying mantis, brown for a boat, yellow for a handful of stars. You wondered if Michael would like to have any of them, since you never really knew what to do with your creations. You sometimes saw him in the craft room, looming in another corner, making a new mask. You startled yourself with a pleased laugh, coughing to cover it up. The white-coats didn't like hearing you laugh.

His eyes were on you again, and you ignored him as well as you could. You felt you shouldn't approach him again so soon; you knew the feeling of being a cornered, wounded animal. He could join you if he liked. Crease. Flip. Fold. Flip. A dragonfly came to life under your fingertips, soon joining the crane in your pocket. At one point you'd folded a box for your creations, but the pile was getting precarious. You felt the hair stand up on the back of your neck, breathing becoming louder behind your left shoulder. Setting the crane on the table on that side, you went back to ripping strips for stars.

Your focus remained constant for a while, and when you finally looked to your left again, the origami crane was gone. The moment when Michael's presence left you was unknown, but you were glad he liked his gift. You had briefly considered the mantis for its violent rituals, but the bird was a lovely crimson you had seen on one of his masks. You had always enjoyed sneaking glances at his hands while he worked; people said he was a killing machine, and maybe that was true, but he was also careful and creative. Perhaps his crimes were executed in a similar way. Red blood dripping down a human canvas, painted with precise strokes of a kitchen knife.

Michael Myers, the Shape, the mysteriously dangerous boy you had chosen to interact with against all warning, was the only patient whose reason for being at the sanitarium was common knowledge. No one had any idea what you did, not for lack of trying. Various therapists of various specialties had attempted to convince or teach you to speak, to no success. Language was not something you had ever been too familiar with, and it seemed Michael was much the same. But while he stayed silent, you tittered and giggled against even your own wishes.

Tony had found you again. Being cornered was nothing like choosing to be there, and your body trembled along with your scratchy voice. You covered your ears and closed your eyes tight to block him out. It was difficult to understand him, especially when he shouted in your face. The therapists had gotten a little further with comprehension than speaking, but Tony made no effort to enunciate or hold a steady pace. He pushed you into the wall, foreign words hitting harder; physical pain was much easier to unpack.

The noise stopped. You opened your eyes, seeing an empty hall where your aggressor had been seconds before. Looking around, you saw Michael being guided in your direction by a white-coat. Tony had always been terrified of him. As he passed, you waved weakly, letting your body slump to the tiled floor. He turned his head, but that was all.

You began leaving origami in places for Michael to find in exchange for straying closer. He continued ignoring you, but didn't show any signs of ill will. Patients and white-coats alike spread rumors and warnings, but you thought he seemed subdued more than anything else. It was likely a side effect of medication, as all patients were required to take one or another. Your group therapist liked to say that mental illness should be treated like any other sickness. As before, you'd proceed with caution. The tantalizing idea of friendship wasn't worth facing the wrath of a sororicidal maniac.

Every creation you left for Michael was taken, but you never stuck around to see who picked them up. Knowing how observant he was, you were optimistic, but couldn't be sure until he sought you out in the cafeteria one day. You had eaten by yourself as usual, interrupted when a paper mask was dropped in front of your tray. A smiling face, reminiscent of a jester, stared just as blankly as Michael, who stood stiffly on the other side of the table. You giggled, picking it up and putting it on, adjusting so your mouth was free to eat. He sat down with his own tray and you both spent lunch in a more comfortable silence.

Michael started sitting with you at meal times, never saying a word, but occasionally trading a mask for a few origami creatures. You didn't bother leaving them around anymore when you could save them up for when you saw him face to face. You laughed sweetly when your fingers met as you both pushed your gifts toward the other, a moment you enjoyed more every time it repeated. He noticed the colors you used most and incorporated them, as you did for him. He didn't mind what sounds you did or didn't make. You didn't flinch at the sight of him. You weren't entirely sure, but you thought you might have made a friend.

The white-coats took an interest in your relationship, which you guessed from how often they said his name in your direction. You hummed or scribbled messy, broken sentences, but they never seemed satisfied. It was unclear whether or not they wanted you to be friends with Michael, but you didn't plan on stopping. He was nice in his own way, and he kept Tony away.

He was there next time the bully cornered you as well. Michael stared, hands clenched by his sides, as Tony screamed profanities while white-coats ignored the situation. Michael always got the most attention, to his and your chagrin. But this time, he intervened, appearing suddenly as he was wont to do. Looming, impending, hovering over Tony's shoulder. You looked up, pinpoint pupils dilating as you noticed your friend clamp a hand on the back of his neck. A shiver of excitement ran through you, seeing Michael showcase his strength as he threw Tony to the ground. The white-coats ran over, pulling him away, but you grinned, laughing gleefully as you sprinted to your room and locked the door.

Three days later, Tony O'Malley was found with a crayon lodged in his brain.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #slasher x reader #d3's post #🍐

[plaidbooks]

Hey 🥰 could I request working with Sonny and you two used to date but broke up, you remained friends but never really got over each other and your end up going through a pretty bad time with work or personal stuff and you’re struggling mentally and not eating etc and when he realises he comes over to your place to check ur ok and you just breakdown and he tells u he still loves u and that it’ll always be u 🥺

Some Space

A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long! I was so burnt out of writing, but I'm here now! I hope that this makes up for the wait!

This takes place before Sonny joins SVU--and his timeline is a little wonky to make this fic work, but oh well.

Tags: death, shootings, blood, disassociation

Words: 2590

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31 @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell

“So, do you wanna move in together?” Sonny asked while you cuddled on his couch. You turned to look at him, and his face fell as he saw your expression. “…you don’t?”

You sighed. “It’s not like I don’t love you, Sonny, because I do. It’s just…I mean, we’re still in our mid-20s. I want a little more, uh, freedom before I settle down, you know?”

“I’ve known since we started dating in high school that I was in for the long term. I was thinking of maybe…I don’t know, getting married…having kids…. Now that we’ve settled into patrol, I thought it would be the perfect time to take the next step,” he muttered.

You sat in silence, debating. You loved Sonny, and you did want to marry him…someday. Not right now. You’ve barely lived any of your life; hell, you lived at home still. Sonny had his own apartment, but you didn’t want to go from living with your parents to living with him. You wanted space, time to figure out who you really were. And you didn’t think you could do that with Sonny. If he couldn’t give you your independence, if you both wanted different things, then you were going to have to break up with him, as much as it would break your heart to do it.

“Listen, Sonny, I need to live my own life for a little bit, discover myself. I-it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise—”

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked softly.

Hearing the words out loud made tears form in your eyes. “I…yes, I guess I am. At least until I find myself…. I’m so sorry, Sonny. I’ll always care about you. We can still be friends?”

“Y-yeah…okay, sure. I…yeah…” he trailed off, unwrapping his arms from around you. You both sat there awkwardly, and the tension was thick. You stood, moving to grab your jacket, and Sonny followed you to the front door.

“This isn’t…goodbye. I promise you, Sonny Carisi. It’s just—”

“See you later?” he finished.

You gave him a smile, and a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

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

That was months ago now, and you had transferred out of Staten Island patrol, unable to see Sonny every day, those big, sad blue eyes trying to avoid your gaze. Now, you worked for Brooklyn, an officer in their Homicide department. You settled in quickly, and you found a cheap-ish apartment in Brooklyn.

It was nice living by yourself, and you highly enjoyed it. You missed Sonny dearly, but you thought it was too soon to reach out. Your heart still strained when you thought about the breakup, so you kept your distance. But it was getting easier and easier to let those feelings fade away in your new line of work. Brooklyn Homicide was a lot busier than Staten patrol, and you got along great with your partner, Drew Zimmer.

“We keep making these busts, and we’re gonna make detective in no time,” Drew said, grinning at you.

You smiled back as you shoved a cuffed perp in the backseat of your squad car. “Then we get paid halfway decently for doing much of the same as we are now.”

“Plus, normal clothes! Not this suffocating police uniform.”

You agreed, then moved to the front seat, Drew sliding in behind the steering wheel. You and Drew were close, but you never crossed a line. He was engaged to his high school sweetheart, something that made you slightly sad. Sonny was your high school sweetheart, and you wondered how different your life would’ve been if you moved in with him.

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

As Drew predicted, you both made detective later that year. You were officially the youngest detective, having moved up the ranks so quickly. You both went out for drinks to celebrate, and you had the wild impulse to invite Sonny. It had been almost a year since you broke up, and you could finally think about it without tearing up. But would he be okay with it? You fought the idea, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Everything okay?” Drew asked, seeing the look on your face.

You shot him a fake smile. “Fine, fine. Just…thinking. Don’t worry about it.”

He gave you a hard, knowing look, as if he could read your mind. You had told him about Sonny, but you didn’t want to bring the celebration down. Instead, you took your glass and cheers him before taking a sip.

You jumped when your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Your Captain’s name flashed across the screen, and you answered with a brisk voice. Drew watched and listened, then sighed when you said that you were both on your way.

“What do we got?” he asked, putting money on the table and standing.

You pulled your jacket on, heading for the door. “Body found in Prospect Heights. You okay to drive?”

“Sober as a fox.”

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

You both showed up quickly, seeing the officers who called in the body. Drew parked, and you made your way over. One of the officers started walking you both through the details when a gunshot rang out from down the alley that the body was in. Instinct took over as you hid behind a wall of the building, grabbing the closest officer to you and pulling them with you. Gunshots echoed in the alleyway as someone—or someones—unloaded on the entrance to the alley.

Drew was on the other side of the alleyway, and one of the officers was flat on their back, blood leaking from a bullet hole in their head. You ordered the officer next to you to call for backup, then waited until the gunfire stopped. Taking a chance, you snuck a quick peak. There were three individuals at the end of the alley, making their way quickly towards you.

You motioned to Drew, letting him know, before you reached your hand around the corner, firing blindly in an attempt to at least slow their advance. With the cover fire, Drew came halfway around the wall, actually aiming his gun as he fired.

“You got one of them,” he informed you. He got a few shots off before a bullet went through his neck, knocking him off his feet.

“Drew!” you screamed before whipping around the wall, shooting with deadly precision. There was only one man still standing—Drew must’ve got one before going down—and you shot him quickly. Then you dropped to your knees by Drew’s rasping form. You ripped off your jacket, pressing it to the bloody wound.

“Stay with me Drew, do you hear me? You have a fiancée to go home to,” you ordered, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Call a bus!” you yelled at the officer, who was staring in shock.

Drew reached up, grabbing your wrist. “T-tell Steph I—I love her…please,” he gasped, voice weak.

“You’re going to tell her yourself when you see her, okay?” you said, trying to smile at him.

He shook his head. “Tell her…please. I-I—” Drew let out a death rattle before laying still.

“No! No! Live, damn you! You can’t die on me, Drew! W-we’re partners!” you screamed. But he was gone. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you leaned over him.

Time meant nothing as you knelt there. You had no idea when the ambulance arrived, nor when your Captain showed up. You’re not sure who moved you away from Drew’s lifeless body, and you didn’t notice how you ended up at the hospital. You were still covered in Drew’s blood as the nurses ran tests, making sure you were uninjured. Your Captain ordered you to take time off, and you didn’t hear him, didn’t argue. You blinked and you were home, sitting on your couch, a bottle of whiskey in front of you.

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

IAB had been delayed by your Captain, but eventually, you had to face them. You couldn’t recall what they asked, or what you answered. The first emotion you felt in days was fleeting anger; the body that you had been called to investigate was left as bait. The men who shot at you, who killed your partner and an officer, were part of a gang, attempting to become cop killers. It was all a ruse to kill whichever cops arrived on the scene. Drew, one of the nicest, most genuine people you’ve known, was killed for street cred. But your anger soon disappeared, just like everything else.

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

It had been a week since Drew died in your arms. You visited his fiancée—she had already been informed of her love’s death—but you had to see her, pass on his final words. You held her as she cried, but you had no tears left. You felt nothing; you were just a shell. You stopped eating, stopped showering, stopped drinking, even water. You stopped sleeping; you just passed out nowadays, at any and all times of the day, wherever you happened to be laying. Your Captain called you a few times, trying to get you into therapy, but you never left your apartment.

One night, there was a knock on your door. You moved on phantom feet, unlocking and pulling your door open. You felt a dull punch to the gut as Sonny stood on your doorstep.

“H-hey doll…. I heard about your partner, and I thought I’d check up on you,” he said softly.

You nodded, not even attempting to fake a smile. “I’m fine,” you said in a monotone voice, ready to close the door on him. But Sonny was quicker.

“No, you’re not.” And with that, he pushed into your home. “When was the last time you’ve eaten? Washed? Brushed your teeth? Anything?”

You had no answer for him, and he quickly went to your kitchen, pulling open your fridge. Normally, you’d follow him, but instead, you went and collapsed on your couch, your legs unable to hold you up anymore.

Sonny came out with a glass of water. “Drink that,” he ordered, then stood there until you did. “Most of your food has gone bad; I’m going to run to the store. While I’m gone, I want you to shower, okay?”

You didn’t nod, made no indication that you had heard him. He ran a hand through his hair, hating seeing you like this.

“Okay…if you can shower, please do. Otherwise, just at least…drink another glass of water, okay?” He took the glass from your hand, refilled it, then came back and handed it to you. “I’ll be right back.”

You were unsure for how long he was gone; you dimly heard him come back. Sonny went to your kitchen with full grocery bags, and soon, the sounds and smells of cooking emanated from within. He came out soon after—or maybe it was longer, who knows?—with a plate of food.

When he noticed the full glass of water in your hand still, he shook his head, then sat next to you. You didn’t fight him as he fed you small bites, nor as he raised the glass of water to your lips. You tasted nothing as you ate half the plate. Sonny was afraid to make you sick with too much food at once, so he put the rest back in the kitchen. Then, he pulled you to the bathroom. He undressed you, then himself, before guiding you into the shower. The hot water brought you partly to your senses, just enough to feel Sonny’s hands washing your hair and body.

“You may have to get your hair cut short—it’s pretty damaged from lack of care,” he muttered, trying to work the knots out with his fingers. You nodded gently, letting him care for you. Once done, he wrapped you in a towel, patting you dry. Then, he took your toothbrush and put paste on it before handing it to you, lifting your hand to your mouth.

“Brush,” he softly ordered, and you did.

After finishing up in the bathroom, Sonny tugged you to your room, where he dressed you in your pajamas. Then he pushed you down into the bed.

“Sleep, okay? I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.

You laid on the pillow, and fresh tears came to your eyes. “He died in my arms,” you muttered.

Sonny’s expression softened. “I heard, doll. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Just rest now.”

As promised, he sat next to you until you drifted off, your hand in his.

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

Sonny practically moved in with you after that, just until you could take care of yourself. He took you to a therapist, and a hair salon. He made you meals and made sure you drank water. At first, he would shower with you and made sure you brushed your teeth; those were the two things you started doing yourself the quickest. It took you a few weeks to break out of the shock-induced disassociation you were experiencing. Eventually, you started helping Sonny cook in your kitchen, and doing small chores around your apartment.

“Thank you, Sonny, for everything,” you said one night while you were eating dinner.

He smiled at you. “Of course, doll. I care about you.”

“I care about you, too. I—I should’ve called you earlier. I was just afraid that it was too soon.”

His smile faltered slightly. “I understand. I…it’s probably still too soon….”

“What do you mean?”

Sonny put his fork down, looking everywhere but at you. “Look, I’ve…I thought that enough time had passed, especially when I heard about your partner—” you flinched at the mention of Drew— “but when you opened the door and I saw how much it affected you, I realized that…I still love you, have always loved you. You were literally wasting away, and I couldn’t stand by and watch.”

You froze, not in shock at him, but at yourself. Because hearing the words out loud, you knew that you loved him, too.

“I’m sorry; you don’t need this right now. The last thing you need on your mind is—”

“I love you, too, Sonny. God, I love you so much,” you replied, throwing your arms around him, and leaning against his side.

He hesitated a moment before he wrapped an arm around your back. “Are ya sure? You’re going through some pretty traumatic stuff right now. Your emotions going a little haywire.”

“I’m sure. I-I was afraid to call you because I couldn’t handle seeing you. Because I never got over you.”

Sonny nodded. “I never got over you, either. Look, if you still want your space, I can live with that, as long as I don’t lose you again. I never want to lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either. I love you; I want to marry you one day. Let’s just…see how it goes, okay? I’ve learned a lot just in the year we’ve been apart—”

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips soft against yours. He felt so familiar, so much like home, and you realized how much you had really missed him. You kissed him back, holding him to you. He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing over yours.

“We’ll figure out the details later. Right now, I just want to get to know you again,” he breathed.

You nodded. “Please, yes. I want to remember you, Dominick.”

He pulled you closer, promising his whole self to you in a searing kiss.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfics #fanfic #my writing

[yukkue]

The Broken promise

[A better introduction to this au and more consistent info]

(The AU start starts out at the end of The twisted ones. Ignoring The fourth closet making everything that happened in there none cannon to the au neither the robo-Charlie twist nor fake Charlie.)

Arc 1:

When everyone leave the Henry house ruins in believe Charlie died. William/Springtrap shows up taking both the twisted Freddy and Charlie inside him deeper into the underground facility. William helping her out ,decide to get her body out of the machine in the quickest and brutal way of practically ripping her skin off her back both with the spring locks. Which cause her body to jolt lucid William explaining how she’s stuck with him and he wouldn’t let her go makes Charlie feel unpleasant/terrified in desperation trying to run away only to fall on the floor seeing both of her legs being broken making it unable for her to run away. Over the time Charlie’s body slowly getting taken by the injuries causing her to feel worst. . . William aware of her condition starts to thing if a solution to keep her alive as he doesn’t want her dead yet he has to much fun with her. Him paying less attention to her gives Charlie and opening to try and look for anything just to treat her injuries she crawls around the place till she finds first help kit. She bandages her injuries stopping the bleeding and further loose of blood. Yet it’s not big help as her body already starts giving up to the sickness her injuries caused her. . .

Meanwhile Marla tries to work and help Jess and John to copy with Charlie’s death as much as Jess is grateful and co operate, John on the other hand is being more difficult refusing to talk to her or anyone at this point. With Marla even trying to get them a group therapy session (even tho she ain’t an therapist).

While this happens Clays discovers there’s no sight of neither twisted Freddy more Charlie body. Having the hope that she’s alive and starting his investigation that is kept a secret from the gang as to not give them false hope.

Coming back to William he develops a special type of remnant that those not keep your soul in the body when died rather not let you died at all keeping your system working not letting it shut off. At the moment of death being jolted back to life.

He practically forces it into her system Charlie trying to fight yet unable due to her correct condition. It doesn’t make her feel better but also doesn’t let her body give up allowing William to continue his sick game of torture. One day going to far and putting an centipede in her ear causing her to scream scratch her ears till bleed just to get it out as the thing leaves her ear she passes out. This is when clay finds her unconscious on the floor bleeding unable to move. Clays gets his gun out shot William enough times to Keep him away as Clay picking Charlie up and making run for it.

Driving as quick as possible to the hospital

Arc 2:

When Jess gets a call from Clay that’s Charlie’s alive in hospital she’s in tears. Straight up closing the house and driving to hospital getting John on the way at hospital they meet up with Marla and Carlton who already got the call from Clay. Sadly when they ask the staff doctors just tell them they can’t go to see her yet considering her state they have no idea if she will survive. The gang stays there waiting for hours even sleeping in the hospital till they are finally allowed to see Charlie. When they come in she’s unconscious Jess is unable to speak finally seeing it’s true she is alive! While Marla just crying into Jess shoulder as to not disturb Charlie’s well deserved sleep after everything that happened to hear. Charlie doesn’t wake up for few days straight having the gang checking on her everyday. One day Jess comes there alone too her surprise she walks in on Charlie awake picking her self up, Jess in tears runs to her hugging her tightly. Charlie’s confused which leaves Jess to explain where she is and what happened. Next day after that Marla and the rest finally get to see Charlie in more conscious state. Few weeks later Charlie’s gets realised out of hospital.

Arc 3:

After leaving the hospital Jess decides to take her in too her house. As Charlie’s legs are broken she’s not capable of doing a lot having Jess helping her with a lot of thing. Jess takes a lot of time taking care of Charlie. Over time Charlie’s start to get more nightmares waking up in an panic/scream/cry in the middle of the night with all that Charlie’s comes to the point of desperation when she begs Jess to stay with her, revolving in them starting to share a bed it seems simple. Charlie’s rather keeping a lot of her though to herself refusing to talk to Jess sometimes yet Jess is patient with her getting Charlie to open up a bit. Which makes Charlie feel as Jess is the only person she can trust and making her feels safe around her, which causes her to start having feelings for her while Jess herself starts to fall for Charlie too. When Charlie finally is able to walk , having Jess help her out and encouraging her to keep trying Charlie knows love this women. One time when they just sit back together Charlie leans closer to Jess giving her a kiss leaving Jess in surprise, when Charlie realises what she’s done she feels awful feeling as Jess will hate her and something is wrong with her yet Jess admits she likes her too.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf charlie #fnaf tto #fnaf tfc #fnaf tse #charlie emily #the broken promise au #fnaf jessica #fnaf charlie x jessica #chassica #fnaf john #fnaf the twisted ones #fnaf carlton #carlton burke #fnaf marla #fnaf clay

[severusdefender]

Hey I'm the anon who sent that snape and Lilly friendship and how it's a sad one.

Listen,,,, that makes me sad thinking about it but Honestly this my ideal everyone's alive au is (it's kinda long but anyways) :

Snape leaves Hogwarts after that 5th year. He simply goes : if I quit then will I die because of seasonal depression /Londons air quality /alcoholism / a knife attack at tescos in 3 am? Maybe but I'm not dying here in Hogwarts again (1st time is the werewolf incident) . And straight up learns the powers of being a transfer student and transfers to ilvermony,,, it's American but it's not bad bad. And he's Vibing ya know doesn't get hexes for his existence every 12 seconds so that's a bonus.

Hogwarts becomes the au that mauruader fans wished they could get because hey snapes gone now so yay jily and local furries are accepted (wolfstar) :)

Flashforward

Regulus black telling his brother and his gang :ayo got a soul..... mate (I had to do that joke pls let me live). Peter : idk why he joined if it's for the saftey then I think chances of them surviving has increased but if it's for revenge reasons then uhh caught deatheater time.( It's horcrux hunting but make it mauruaders era but they like take turns ya know. And let's just say after 3 horcruxes voldys a bit weak and they get rid of him- it's temporary but enough to dismantle the group.)

Narcissa and luscious straight up go :that man is insane so is Bellatrix , we just had a baby after so long if they touch our kid or even look at it the wrong way I will rip their throat of. So they literally just hand shit in a silver platter.

Eileen and Tobias still are v much alive they just don't care enough about their son and they sort of have this on and off thing. Eillen in some fashion meets the mauruaders and becomes their potioner ( they all pissed their pants because she can be v apathetic and that's scary. They also feel pinches of guilt because they realize what snape went through).

Little bit more time skip ya know intermission : a lot of ministry work and rebuilding laws, getting both side of the aisle to work together. Werewolf laws and whatever ya know the basics. James and Lilly get couples therapy!!! they want each other but ya know how it started and the war.

And it's narcissa who's busy making another charity to promote wellness who has not had a single day of peace that decides - listen it's been 8 ish years I am going to write to snape, because fuck this I can't pretend he's a taboo topic when I really did nothing wrong to deserve his silence . And she gets a reply (he's alive, he's working in a hospital in the department of counter potions for dark arts, he's got a wife (they are in love) and 2 kids, his fav thing to do is fight with a local raccoon because it fights with the possum that he sort of keeps. (he says it's not a pet but he also made it a shelter and yes he tried to put a sweater on it) and his least fav thing is his therapist because she's brutally honest but hey therapy is working). And narcissa knows her husband is dramatic so she straight up goes: we both can meet with our families in Paris.

They do meet. Narcissa literally cannot believe it's the same kid who left Hogwarts, she adores his kids and his wife, there a photograph of all of them together she carries with her. She becomes an aunt sort of figure and they do this shit for like 3 fucking years (her husband is curious but he also knows everything is taking a toll on her so he is just happy that his wife is happy). It takes some time but she becomes snapes friend truly She knows at times it's awakard with her sisters Bellatrix is insane and Andy doesn't fully trust that is well deserved but it hurts, but snape and his family,,,, it's the family she gained.

Flashforward the mauruaders and the malfoys and everyone have his big fucking gala party its them all drunk. And narcissa is an honest drunk. It starts of with Kingsley asking her what's your fav memory with your family not your son and husband and child but just family. She ofc with out a beat goes :it's snape carrying it like a baby in a onsie made by his wife and giving sir banana (the possum) a tour around his house and while his family dancing in slow motion to Abba for 'ambience purposes' and because apparently it calmes the possum down.

She smiles and eye rolls on thought of the memory and takes her drink. The rest of the table have so,, so many questions.

Part 1????

🤺♠️🤺

Do let me know if you want me to continue because this is my comfort au.

Have you thought of actually writing a fanfic? because this is a good concept.

#Anonymous #severus snape #pro snape #lily evans

[derpdrawz4541]

Yay RIP hollow knight au or something starting with the group therapy gang

(order from left to right: Gelly, Ama, Ragdoll, Popup, Flash)

(bonus bench)

#rune's immature party #runes immature party #obelisks mature game #rip2 #camp rip #rip #camp rip season two #rip ragdoll #rip gelly #rip popup #rip destroying angel #rip flash

[whimsicallyreading]

Dark Roast No Sugar

Chapter Three

Aelin would never admit it out loud, but a day off was just what she needed. She spent the morning napping, snacking, and reading. Her stomach settled, and when she took off her shoes, her feet didn't look like they belonged to a bloated cadaver.

 Spending that time with Aedion was also refreshing. He kept the conversations light. Telling her about the antics between hostesses at The Pits, a run-in between Ren and the police. A story about the drug dealer they'd roughed up and how he'd pissed his pant when he saw Aedion and the stray puppy Kyllian had snuck into The Den.

 When they got hungry, Aedion offered to make them a late lunch. Her mouth watered at the prospect of his famous grilled cheese with two kinds of cheeses and ketchup.

 Lysandra came up to join them for lunch and her nose wrinkled at the sight of them dragging the cheesy goodness through globs of red sauce. "By the dark god, you two. That's disgusting."

 Aedion grins, a dot of ketchup on his chin, "You haven't even tried it yet. This meal is a riot with the guys and saved my ass with foster siblings." He wiped his face on his sleeve and leaned back in his chair. "You don't shit on the kid who can actually make edible food."

 Aelin laughs and dusts her hands off like a lady. "Actually, you don't shit on the kid who looks like he started doping at eleven. But yeah, I'm sure it was your budget lunches that saved you."

 "Shut up, you love it when I cook," Aedion collected their plates.

 Lysandra pulls up the chair next to Aelin's at their tiny, rickety table. She set down her container of salad, looking classier with her more mature pallet. Aelin swiped a cucumber from the top and chewed into the seasoned veggie. "Your food is nostalgic. What can I say?"

 Aedion's playful demeanor seemed to deflate suddenly, a furrow creasing his brow. "I suppose why I have you two together, we should talk some business."

 "Uh oh, that doesn't sound good." Lysandra tensed up, shooting a worried look at Aelin.

 "Is it the bidding for this month? I told you I could get at least an extra hundred dollars to you by the end of the month. If you need more, I could-"

 Aedion cut off Aelin's rambling with a raised hand. "It's not the bidding. Elias pulled enough to cover our bets for the month." Relief flooded through her, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

 The underground fighting game in Orynth was wildly exclusive. To get a spot during prime hours when tickets were hot and the betting pool was hotter, the local gangs had to participate in an auction. It was pricey, but the cuts you got from winning a fight made up for it big time.

  Unfortunately, the Bane was not a wealthy group of men. A lot of them had families or relatives they were supporting. They usually scavenged up enough money to get two or three guys into the fights, and those funds were just enough to pull them through to the next month.

 Like Aelin, those families did what they could to fund money towards the bidding. Initially, she was going to volunteer as a fighter, but she found out about the baby, and they all agreed it was too risky for her to get in the ring. As soon as she was cleared, she still intended to participate in the fights to Aedion's chagrin.

 Between the extra patrols of her street and snuffing the rumors of her existence in the city, it took a chunk of the Bane's recourses and time. Aedion assured her that the guys understood her circumstances, but she contributed as much as she could monetarily until she could contribute physically as well. "What's going on then?"

 "Rolf took a beating in the ring last night. He's going to be out of commission for a while, but we didn't lose any money. He managed to bust the guy's head at the last moment and pulled through." He paused.

 Aelin was confused, though. It wasn't uncommon for one of the guys to get roughed up a bit, so long as they didn't lose, there wasn't an issue. "That's too bad about Rolf, but I don't see the problem?" she pushed him to continue.

 "He swears the guy was tripping on Synth," Aedion breathes out, pained.

 Oh.

 "Shit," Lysandra swears and stands up. "Is he sure it was Synth?"

 "It's kinda hard to rutting mistake, Lysandra," Aedion snapped. He was right, though. The Pits had rules against cheating, but they were followed loosely. If they couldn't see a knife being pulled, the fight wouldn't be called. Some of the Bane even doped before a match just so they wouldn't get caught at a disadvantage.

 Synth had a lot of physical effects. Adrenalin coursed through the user at such high rates it was practically superhuman. It gave them crazy speed, strength, and heightened focus. On the flip side, it also caused fever, bulged veins, twitching, bloodshot eyes, and uncontrollable rage as you came down. It would be hard to mistake it for any other street drug. Aelin had taken Synth once before, and it wasn't an easily forgettable experience.

 The detail they were glossing over was that only one person was currently capable of leaking a drug like Synth on the streets.

Arobynn Hammel

 "So," Aelin finally said, breaking up the heated glares they were sharing. "He's making his presence in Orynth known."

 Quiet.

 "We can't know it for sure," Aedion looked at her with a sickening amount of pity. Aelin didn't want sympathy or comforting falsities. She wanted the truth.

 "Bullshit," Aelin declared, making Aedion wince at the sudden sharpness. "We've had sightings of Tern and Mulligan already. We knew he was sending eyes out. They must have seen us."

 Lysandra sunk back into her chair and rested her head in her hands. "I thought we made it?" her voice sounded extraordinarily young, feeble. Not at all like the vivacious woman they were used to seeing.

 "Lys," it was Aelin's turn to rest a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

 Her eyes were glassy and hollow when she looked up. "I really had myself believing we made it."

 Aelin's heart broke for her.

 Arobynn was a sick son of a bitch. She, Lysandra, and Sam had all come into his care at different times and served various functions within the Manor. One thing was the same though, they were all children.

 They were all coerced into doing grotesque things for Arobynn's sake. Things that they should, in all honesty, spend years in therapy to recover from. Yet, some horrors were too big for even Aelin to pretend to understand.

 Horrors that Lysandra was forced to live with every day.

 Arobynn's unofficial mistress.

 Aedion's fist slamming against the table startled them both and snapped Aelin from her thoughts. Lysandra flinched and leaned closer to Aelin. "It doesn't matter."

  He pointed his finger at them and then stabbed it into the table. "It. Does. Not. Matter. Where that piece of shit is. Rifthold? Wendelyn? He can be an hour away or watering the rutting flowers next door, but he will never have either of you ever again." The golden core in Aedion's eyes was molten.

 The excitement was too much for Lysandra, and the dam behind her eyes broke. Deep, heavy sobs ripped from her chest, and her body wilted forward like a wind-whipped flower.

 They moved at the same time, but Aedion was faster. He pulled Lysandra from her seat and gathered her against his chest, shushing her and whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

 The bells rang downstairs.

 Aedion looked up helplessly, but Aelin raised a hand and mouthed, "It's fine."

 None of them wanted Lysandra to be alone right now.

 Aelin slipped her shoes back on and hopped down the stairs quickly. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too pissed no one was behind the counter when they walked in, she mused to herself. It only took her half-a-minute to get downstairs, but it was amazing the things people got outraged over.

 Mala forgive that the coffee gets in their hand a second later than usual.

 "Do my eyes deceive me, or was Aelin Galathynius taking a break?" Dorian Havilliard's greeted her with a bright smile and upraised hands. No trace of agitation at all.

 Chaol Westfall stood behind him and meekly tilted his chin. "Hello, Aelin."

 "Hello, Chaol." She greets him with a smile and walks into Dorian's outstretched arms. Aelin wasn't a hugger, but Dorian's hugs had a magic to them.

 "Where did you go?" Dorian asked without breaking his grasp. "I never thought I'd see the day you weren't slaving away behind the counter grinding beans."

 "We weren't super busy today, and I wasn't feeling the best," Aelin admitted.

 Dorian pulled away slightly to look down at her in concern. His dark, thick-framed blue light glasses slipping down his nose.

 "It's just the baby," she assures him. "Not the flu or anything. You don't have the right parts to catch what I've got."

 Chaol snickered, but Dorian's concern only worsened. "In all seriousness, you aren't working yourself too hard?"

 Aelin rolled her eyes. If one more person asked her that-

 "I'm fine, Dor. It was just some morning sickness and a stressful customer that came through. No big deal."

 His shoulders relax, and he releases her from his arms. "I believe you. Just-" he fumbles for the words to say, "If you have troublesome people coming in here and bothering you, let me know? Chaol can come over and hang out for the day. He has a friend, Nesryn. If it gets bad, I am more than willing to hire her-"

 Aelin smiled at him and waved at him. "No need for bodyguards. People are rude. It happens. Now, what can I get for the both of you?"

 Dorian was the son of the esteemed son of Dorian Sr. The owner of Adarlan Vaults, the most extensive banking chain across Erilea. It was a total accident that they stumbled into each other when Aelin went in looking for a loan to start The Stag with.

 At first, he was a bit of a flirt with her. When Aelin made it clear that she wasn't interested in his advances, Dorian backed off right away and fell into the role of the supportive friend. He and Chaol had been the first patrons of the shop when the doors opened.

 Chaol was technically his hired protection, but he and Dorain were life long friends bound by something more powerful than money. She never saw the two of them apart. While he appeared to be a quiet sort, he had a sharp mind and fierce loyalty that Aelin admired.

 "Two iced girl scout americano's," Dorian pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. "Large, please."

 Aelin accepted the cash and started filling cups as the two took their standard seats. She just got the espresso machine heated when a set of hands pushed her's aside and began flipping the switches for her.

 "Aedion," she groaned as his hip bumped her to the side, and he took over her tasks. "Seriously?"

 "You are supposed to be taking the day off," he looks at her pointedly. "Go sit with your friends. I've got this."

 "Do you have this?" Aelin set a hand on her hip. "You haven't used these machines before."

 Aedion scoffed, "It cannot be that complicated. Now go. Before Lysandra comes back down and wipes the floor with both of our asses." He pulls out two large mugs and grabs out a bottle of coconut flavoring. "Baby A is shielding you for now, but that woman has the memory of a rutting elephant. Don't think you can hide behind my niece or nephew forever." He's more talking to himself by the end as he starts over pouring syrups into cups. Did he even know what he was making? Aelin winced.

 She might have to return the twenty to Dorian.

 Aelin walks away reluctantly, "Mind if I sit here for a minute, boys?"

 Chaol stands up and pulls a chair out for her, "Not at all."

 He holds out a hand to help her sit, but she waves it away. She wasn't that pregnant yet.  

 Dorian has a hardbound book sitting in front of him, the face of his expensive watch catching the light as he turns the page. "I haven't seen you by the bank this week," he says without looking up from the page.

 "We've been enjoying the peace," Chaol sits back in his own seat and flashes her a grin. "That's a joke, of course. It's been horribly boring."

 "It's been a busy week. I haven't had a chance to drop my deposit off yet." Aelin typically made an excuse to visit the bank at least once a week. Dorian would kindly excuse whatever teller was working to take a break and promptly close the register so they could sit in the break room and talk over cookies and drip coffee.

 She was planning on going yesterday, but her feathers were too ruffled after the incident.

 "I suppose I can live without that excuse since I've taken it upon myself to visit you at work." He pulls a plastic bag filled with assorted chocolates and places it on the table between them. "If you need to drop off a deposit, I can take it back with me?"

 Aelin's hand darts to the bag of sweets and pulls out a dark, salty square. "Have I mentioned you are the most attractive man I've ever met?"

 They hear a loud scoff from the kitchen.

 "You've mentioned it a few times." He glances up from his book long enough to wink at her. "What about that deposit?"

 "I don't think I will have a big enough deposit to warrant the trip this week," the excuse isn't well-formed, and she hears it when the lie falls from her lips.

 "You said you had a busy week?" Dorian frowns.

 I did, but I'm putting aside extra money to fund my cousin's gang because my former foster father has a hit out on me.

 "The tips have been bad" not a total lie. "Maybe it will pick up again over the weekend," Aelin shrugs nonchalantly.  

 Aedion walks over with two cups of coffee and a mug of tea. He lets Dorian's drink slosh over the side as he sets it down. Dorian lifts his book away from the mess and glares.

 She wasn't sure what went down between Dorian and Aedion that made them hate each other. Chaol and Aedion had no qualms. They were even drinking buddies on the weekend, but Aedion had a bone to pick with Dorian long before she'd arrived back in Orynth.

 Aelin half-heartedly scolded Aedion as she accepted her drink. Taking a deep drink from the mug, she was surprised to find that it was made exactly as she liked.

 Chaol sipped his coffee, and Aelin watched as he barely held back a grimace. Dorian reached for his own cup, but Chaol discretely pulled it away before he could drink. Aelin caught the motion, but thankfully Aedion was already back in the kitchen and hadn't noticed.

 "I will remake those for you before you leave," Aelin assured them.

 "It's alright. As much as I love coffee, I really came by to spill tea," Dorian took his glasses off and leaned back in his chair.

 "Gossip," Chaol translated. "He means gossip."

 Dorian rolls his eyes, "That's what tea means, Chaol." Leaning forward with his elbows on the table, "A company called Wendlyn Ops. bought out The Pits."

 "What?" Aelin shouts a little too loudly. Dorian shushes her, and Aedion peers out from the kitchen with worried eyes. She waves him away and whispers in a quieter tone. "What do you mean The Pits have been bought out? What for?"

 "I didn't realize you would care this much about the seediest bar in town," Dorian laughed. "It's not like you can drink."

 "You aren't drinking, right?" Chaol scowls.

 Aelin reins back her emotions. She was definitely losing her tack being off the job for several months, but the secret basement underneath The Pits was where the fights were usually held. Iona Jayne would never sell the property when it brought in so much money.

 He either owed someone a rutting ton of money, he was being blackmailed, or the most likely option.

 Iona Jayne was dead.

 Aelin flipped Chaol off, "Of course I'm not drinking. No promises on that in about five months... Just, who would want The Pits? Are they repurposing it?" She can already feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

 "That's the interesting part," Chaol murmured. "The title for The Pits was transferred to a new owner just a few days before it was sold for triple its market value."

 Dorian's grin became mischievous, "Shady deals are going on, and I'm determined to find out what."

 Shit. Shit. Shit.

 Aelin forced a matching smile on her, "Well, this sounds like the making of an adventure."

 Aedion was deeply involved with all the goings-on at The Pits. If Dorian managed to learn too much and expose them, he would go down hard. She wasn't directly implicated in anything beyond a little racketeering, but one prolonged look at her record would raise some eyebrows. Which could tie her back to Rifthold and numerous murders. A lot of murder. Thievery. Hired assassinations.

 They would be screwed, essentially.

 Damn it all to hellas, she needed to talk to Aedion. Aelin understood why Dorian was interested in this. His father was involved with so many corrupt dealings they followed him like a shadow. She knew he was socially isolated beyond herself and Chaol. No one dared to associate with the son of Dorian Sr.

 Unveiling a corrupt business dealing and aiding the community could help separate his image from his father's. Rectify some of the wrongs his family has committed. Give him a chance at making a future for himself out from Dorian Sr.'s thumb.

 Aelin just wished he knew the depth of the task he was taking. How deep, dark, and dangerous this viper's den was. Sweet, sheltered Dorian Jr. would be eaten alive. A blue-eyed pup, trapped in the jaws of an adder.

 Little did he know that Aelin was a wolf herself, and she would not stand for that breaking.

 Aelin directed the conversation to safer grounds following the bomb he dropped. They discussed the book he was reading, the litter of pups his dog was expecting, his disgusting little brother. Chaol seemed to sour at the mention of Holland.

 Soon they were provided with fresh drinks, and Aelin ushered them out under the pretense of needing a nap. Definitely not a lie. Her stomach was rolling again, and that blooming headache was now a whole damn rosebush in her brain.

 Rubbing the knot between her eyes, she made the difficult decision of closing for the day. Business was slow. Lysandra hadn't come back downstairs. Aelin wasn't feeling well, and there was no chance she was letting Aedion use her precious machines again.

 Aelin looked outside the window. It was grey and dreary outside. Perfect conditions for the three of them to order pizza, rent a movie and just put this day behind them.

 "Aedion, I'm closing up." She didn't hear a reply. Aelin shrugged it off. He'd probably gone back up to sit with Lysandra.

 She opened a can of coffee grounds and inhaled wistfully. What she wouldn't give for a cup of straight caffeine. With one last longing sniff, Aelin refilled canisters for tomorrow and got to cleaning up the machines.

 All that was left was to close up the registers.

 She'd just unlocked the drawer when the ring of the shop bells went off.

 "Sorry, we're closed," Aelin said without looking away from the task at hand. She would have to remember to lock the doors first next time.

 Heavy boots thudded against her wooden floors as whoever it was approached the counter. Her irritation peeked. What was with the influx of entitled assholes lately?

 "We are close-" Aelin's stopped and her eyes narrowed at the gun barrel aimed at the center of her forehead.

I’m figuring out how the tagging list thing works- ☺️

If you would like me to add or take your name off the list for future updates let me know~

@thisismylibrary

@highladywhitethrone

@bee55

@royalsqueeze

@rowaelin-cressworth

@sjmships

#aelinandrowan #poorlysandra #sexyapronaedion #aelinneedsadamnnap #coffeeshopau #fanfic #suspenseintensifies

[lady-of-the-lotus]

It’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault that A-Yuan thinks he’s a rabbit, or Jiang Cheng’s fault that toddler Jin Ling used to Zidian to short out the city’s power grid, or Xue Yang’s fault that little A-Qing was strapped to his chest during a motorcycle joyride down the highway, but they are stuck going to family counseling, along with a bored Lan Wangji, a giggly Xiao Xingchen, an out-to-lunch Lan Xichen, and an indignant Jin Guangyao. A lonely Nie Huaisang gets in on the action by joining all twenty group chats and sending way too many gifs.

And, all the while, a rebellion is brewing on Wangxian’s block, their neighbors driven mad by the incessant midnight duets.

Poor Dr. Wen Qing, child psychologist and therapist extraordinaire. What has she done to deserve this?

Read On AO3!

Or read below if the spirit so moves you:

There’s a letter nailed to the door when they arrive home.

Wei Wuxian rips the letter from the nail and reads it aloud.

“ ‘We, the undersigned, do hereby declare Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji to be persona non grata on Cultivator Court for the following reasons: One: Wild animals leaving unspeakable ‘presents’ on our lawns—’ ”

Wei Wuxian looks up. “That would be Lil’ Apple. Do they sell donkey diapers?”

Lan Wangji unlocks the door. “What else?”

“ ‘Two: Gangs of feral rabbits rampaging through our flower beds!’ –They do have a point here. How they keep getting loose I’ll never know. ‘Number Three: Loud duets at midnight. We get it! You’re in love! Get a soundproof basement or shut the hell up!’ ” Wei Wuxian wrinkles his nose. “Who spit in their bean curd?”

“Where do these people meet, and can I join?” asks Jiang Cheng.

* *  * *

One month earlier:

It's all the daycare’s fault, really. And also the gang’s mutual pediatrician for getting involved and setting them up with a family therapist.

And they all know they should be grateful that the authorities are letting them off easy. But—

Weekly family therapy sessions that double as parenting classes? They all already know how to change diapers and hide the matches and make airplane noises.

And none of it’s not any of their faults. More of a…

“Series of misunderstandings,” explains Wei Wuxian to Dr. Wen Qing. “I’m sure when you hear the full story, you’ll laugh too. Right, Lan Zhan?”

“I don’t think she ever laughs,” whispers Xue Yang to Xiao Xingchen, who can’t see Dr. Wen’s impassive face but dissolves into a fit of giggles anyway.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at the two of them and turns to Dr. Wen. “How long is this going to take? My new fashion line launches next week! I don’t have time for this—ow!” He jerks around at A-Yuan, who's gazing up at him innocently. He glares at Wei Wuxian. “Your carrot-brained little son bit me!”

Wei Wuxian scoops his son up onto his lap. “Don’t worry, A- Yuan, Uncle Cheng didn’t mean it—”

“Thumper!” A-Yuan corrects him.

“I’m sorry. Don’t worry, Thumper , Uncle Cheng didn’t mean it.”

“That’s normal,” says Xue Yang. “ ‘Thumper’?”

Xiao Xingchen hushes him.

“I just meant I’d go for a better name,” Xue Yang goes on. “Like Iago or Mushu if we’re picking from annoying cartoon animals. Doesn’t Thumper get shot?”

“You’re thinking of Bambi,” says Meng Yao irritably. He doesn’t look up from his phone as his finger moves in a blur over the screen. He’s missing several important meetings to be here. “He's the one who gets shot.”

A- Yuan’s eyes are huge. “Bambi gets shot?”

“No, Bambi’s mother gets shot,” Xue Yang explains.

A- Yuan bursts into tears.

Lan Wangji shoots Xue Yang a look that’s pure poison.

Dr. Wen clears her throat. “This is perhaps a good example of the dysfunction that—"

“Don’t worry, Thumper’s parents are just fine!” Wei Wuxian tells A- Yuan, squeezing the boy tighter. “Jiang Cheng, show him their pictures on your phone!”

“Do you think I have cartoon rodents as my wallpaper?”

“Google it!”

“Kid’s got to learn about death sometime.” Xue Yang places a lollipop in A-Yuan’s plump little hand. A-Yuan grins at him through his tears. Xue Yang is the kids’ favorite, to the jealousy of everyone but Xiao Xingchen, who is just as beloved. “See? Now he’ll always remember it as something sweet.”

The entire group gives him a Look, save Xiao Xingchen, who’s smiling and nodding.

Sometimes I think he’s deaf as well as blind , Meng Yao texts the others. There are an endless number of group chats, with most created just to complain about the people not on that specific group chat.

WWX : That’s cruel, but...

Jiang Cheng makes an impatient sound. Jin Ling is perched on his knee, slobbering on his custom lotus-patterned purple leather cell phone case. He takes his phone out of the toddler’s mouth and sets him down on the floor. “Can we move this along? Some of us have better things to do.”

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Jiang.” Dr. Wen glances around the circle of folding chairs. “Now, do we all know why we’re here? Mr. Xue? Would you like to go first?”

Xue Yang stops picking at his chipped black nail polish. “What?”

“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Xue?”

“I told A-Qing to stop biting people unless they really deserve it, and besides, she’s fully vaccinated, so I don’t see the problem there—”

“Mr. Xiao? Any ideas?”

Xiao Xingchen clears his throat and shuffles his sandaled feet, nervously smoothing the fringe on his oversized tie-dye poncho. “I’m not exactly sure why we’ve been included in a Jiang family therapy session, to be quite honest.”

“Your husband and daughter have been…implicated in some of the group’s…let’s call them mishaps, and as your daughter has adopted A- Yuan’s rabbit fixa—wait a minute, where is your daughter?”

“Xingchen’s got her,” shrugs Xue Yang.

JC - JGY - WWX - Jin Ling’ Uncles

JGY : *That’s* reassuring...

JGY : They make baby leashes for a reason

WWX : Lan Zhan threatened to buy me one the last time we went to the mall. I was lost for a half hour

JC : Are you sure he wasn’t just trying to lose you in the crowd?

WWX : Actually, I think Lan Zhan *did* buy the leash in the end…

*Jiang Cheng has left the chat*

Dr. Wen inclines her head. “Your husband is beside you, Mr. Xue. Your daughter is not.”

Xue Yang cranes his neck around the room. “I’m sure she’s fine, wherever she is. Unrelated question, are all of the valuables around here locked up, or—?”

“Mr. Xue—”

“We’ll know soon enough anyway. Is there an alarm system? No, don’t tell me. I’d rather be surprised. Be right back.” He tucks his phone inside his ripped black jeans and leaves the room, whistling. The clomp of his heavy combat boots disappears down the hall.

“Don’t worry,” says Xiao Xingchen, who seems to have missed a good half of what his husband has said, as usual. “This happens all the time. A-Qing has an excellent sense of direction.”

WWX - JGY - XY - JC - LWJ - Cabbage Patch Kids

JC : What the hell does that mean? The kid’s like 5

WWX : 3, tops

JC : No way she’s 3. She stole my watch last time she played w Jin Ling

LWJ : Are you certain that wasn’t her father?

NHS : XXC would never hahaha 😭 😭 😭

WWX : Huaisang! Whassup!

NHS:

WWX: You change the chat name again? I like it.

JC: Can he take my place here? This whole thing is inane

WWX : "Inane"! So you *have* been using the Word of the Day calendar Lan Zhan bought you!

JC : Shut up

JGY : Like a 5-year-old stealing a watch makes any more sense than a 3-year-old?

WWX : Oh we’re back on that?

NHS : Who stole who’s what now?

LWJ : *whose

JGY : Jiang Cheng was robbed by a toddler.

JC : Don’t you have some corporate espionage to go do or someone’s job to steal or something?

NHS:

JC: Send one more gif and I reach through your phone and strangle you

NHS:

WWX: Did you watch Shrek again without us? That’s A- Yuan’s fav movie

NHS: ur always so busy w lwj n the baby n playing w ur corpses lately!

Dr. Wen sighs. “All right, then. Who would like to go next? Mr. Jiang? How about you? Phones away, everyone, please.”

Jiang Cheng makes a show of being annoyed at having to look up from his phone. “I shouldn’t even be here. This is idiotic.”

WWX - NHS

WWX: Or “inane”

NHS:

“That’s not what the power company report says, Mr. Jiang. Now, I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, but there are concerns—”

“I swear Zidian was depowered when I gave it to Jin Ling to play with,” Jiang Cheng says irritably. “He teethed on that thing for months as a baby. It’s fine.”

WWX -XY - LWJ - JGY - 🧟 🍬 🐇 🤠

JGY: Did Jiang Cheng just tell a mandated reporter that he let Jin Ling teethe on his magic lightning whip?

XY: dammit Im missing all the good stuff!

LWJ: *I’m

NHS:

JGY: You’re wasting my phone’s memory with these ridiculous gifs.

NHS: *inane gifs

XY: Jiggy why don’t you just have your 🍬 🍭 👦👨 buy you a fancy new phone with more memory?

NHS:

WWX: XY did you find A-Qing?

NHS: He lost A-Qing again?

LWJ: …Again?

XY: NHS do you like your tongue where it is or

NHS:

JGY: ?

XY: fingers. whatever.

WWX: I'm lost too

XY: nvm

JGY: That was edifying.

“Now, Mr. Jiang, I don’t mean to insinuate that you let your three-year-old nephew play unsupervised with a dangerous weapon that mistakenly activated and went on to fry the power grid and knock out all power within a five-mile radius for two weeks—”

JGY: Despicable inefficiency

“—or that you took him to a weapons expo, because, I quote ‘He’s going to have to learn to fight eventually anyway’—”

“It was an archery range.”

WWX - LWJ - NHS - Wen Chao Sucks!

WWX: Start ‘em young

NHS: i think it's inane

NHS: WWX? did LWJ smile at that one?

LWJ: No

WWX: He’s laughing on the inside

NHS: how….inane

“Mr. Jiang? Have you any response?”

Jiang Cheng crosses his arms over his chest. Jin Ling is hopping around on the floor with A- Yuan. Obviously not electrocuted, Jiang Cheng thinks, so what’s the problem? “So when my brother blows out the entire neighborhood’s power doing illegal experiments in his garage it’s okay, but I plug a space heater into the same outlet as a toaster and I’m suddenly the devil incarnate?”

NHS - WWX - JGY - Two Bros & A Guy

NHS : Why would you need a space heater in the kitchen? what I do is turn the oven on and that gets the room all hot

WWX : I think you need a new oven

NHS : Are ovens not supposed to do that??

WWX : Do fridges radiate cold?

NHS : I never thought about it that way 🤔

JGY : In the history of the world, nobody ever has.

WWX : Also, all of my illegal experiments are electricity-free.

JGY : …Jin Ling is never spending the night at your house again.

WWX : I said electricity-FREE!

JGY : Because a fridge full of corpses that you and that psychotic hooligan are trying to raise from the dead is so much better.

WWX : A) it’s a top-of-the-line industrial freezer, not a fridge, and B) those corpses were ethically-sourced—locally-sourced, anyway—

NHS : free-range & organic

WWX : zip it Huaisang

NHS : 🐓

Dr. Wen taps her clipboard with her pen. “Mr. Jiang, nobody's accusing you of anything. This is simply—”

“Whatever. What about him?” Jiang Cheng jerks a thumb at Meng Yao. “At least I didn’t set fire to anything.”

Meng Yao straightens up indignantly. “That was an accident!”

Dr. Wen looks like she wants to go home. “According to the fire marshal’s report, it—”

“I’m so terribly sorry I’m late!” A slightly disheveled Lan Xichen appears in the doorway, Xue Yang behind him. “I locked my keys in the car, and was going to call AAA, but then I remembered that we aren’t members—did you know you have to be a member?—plus my phone—”

Xue Yang slaps him on the back. His other hand, gloved as always, is holding A-Qing by the hand. Her oversized pockets clink suspiciously as she runs to go play with A-Yuan and Jin Ling. Today Xue Yang has dressed her in a pink poodle skirt, black boots with frilly socks, and a black T-shirt with the words “Daddy’s Little Delinquent” in pink script, pulling her hair into spiky little pigtails.

“—and the look the bus driver gave me when I tried paying with the $50 I luckily had in my pocket!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Xue Yang says. Over the years, an odd friendship has sprung up between him and Lan Xichen. “He has a stamped bus pass and everything. Look at the poor man. Had to squash in with the hoi poloi. He won’t be over this for weeks.”

Lan Xichen is blinking too much. “And someone on the bus stole my wallet, though I could have sworn I left the bus with it—”

Xue Yang winks at A-Qing, who grins at him and pats the bulging pocket on her frilly pink skirt.

JC - WWX

JC : Why is my lead fashion designer wearing CROCS??

WWX : His house keys must have been on the same keychain. Lan Zhan said he took today off from work

JC : Okay but why are they orange?

WWX : Not everything he owns has to be blue, you know

JC : His contract clearly states at least three out of every four articles of clothing have to be blue!

WWX : Relax, lil bro

JC : He’s the face of our Overly Elaborate Yet Elegantly Simple Eveningwear division!

NHS : Who is?

JC : GET BIRD BRAIN OFF THIS CHAT OR I SWEAR TO ZIDIAN—

NHS : 😿 who just showed up? Xichen?

WWX : Yup he just arrived after a harrowing bus experience

NHS : https://cutt.ly/Mks2dgu ?

JC : Does anyone actually like when people send them links??

NHS : https://cutt.ly/hks21H8

Meng Yao is wearing what Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang call his "customer service smile," a holdover from his dark days in retail. It's the closest he ever gets to showing irritation towards his fiancé. “Why didn’t you Uber over, Xichen?”

“I locked my phone in the car with the keys—”

“It’s fine, Mr. Lan," says Dr. Wen. "Please have a seat. You’re just in time. After all, you were mentioned by name in the fire marshal’s report, along with the somewhat contradictory descriptions of ‘dazed’ and ‘hysterically sobbing,’ which naturally piqued my interest—”

Lan Xichen seats himself beside Meng Yao. He's still looking somewhat frazzled Then again, his main two facial expressions are “gentle smile” and “mild anxious look.” “That was an accident. The fire, I mean. A little mishap.”

“Gentlemen, all of these incidents cannot be mere ‘accidents’—”

“I was meditating and A-Ling wandered in and knocked over the incense burner,” Lan Xichen explains hurriedly. Meng Yao, well-practiced as he is at hiding his emotions, winces slightly. “The window was open, and there was a breeze, and A-Yao just bought these new gauzy curtains that tend to flap about quite a bit—”

XY - JGY - LWJ - JC - NHS - Crossing Us Is A *Great* Idea

XY : And burn quickly

NHS : What am I missing???

XY : Insurance fraud

NHS:

XY : Yes. We’re all complicit now

JGY : Xue Yang, have you heard of a little something called libel?

XY : 🖕 We should go back to building with asbestos like they did in the good old days

JC : We’re all so glad you’re here, Xue Yang

NHS : I need to adopt a kid so I can join your group or something, this sucks, you get to go this secret club every week, jc I see wwx even less than you do

JC : stop talking

XY : What color baby you want, NHS?

JC : What the hell??

XY : That was a joke

NHS: ....

“…and I was so deep in meditation I didn’t notice the flames until the fire department arrived, but A-Ling was fine, just fine, and all the fire fighters were so very nice…”

WWX : Can confirm. Xichen was more traumatized than the kid. The firefighters had to wrap him in like fifty foil blankets

XY : XXC tells me Himbo stayed with you a full week, was that why? my boy didn't tell me

LWJ : “Himbo”? He got 1600 on his SAT.

XY: Term of endearment he knows he’s my boy plus the guy locked his keys and phone in the car for the second time this month

JC : At least he feels remorse over his child endangerment, unlike certain other people I could mention

LWJ : "Child endangerment"?

XY : Tell us again about how Jin Ling used to teethe on Zidian, JC?

NHS:

“Dr. Wen will be pleased to know that my apartment is now fully equipped with a top-of-the-line sprinkler system,” says Meng Yao smoothly. “No more incense, either. This unfortunate incident will never be repeated again.”

XY - WWX - JC - Odd Man Out

XY : At least not until the insurance money runs out

WWX : 😒

XY : Not that he needs it, after landing Himbo

NHS:

WWX: Those jokes really aren't funny

NHS: 😔

JC: Dammit NHS are you in every chat?? Did you change the chat names? Why aren't you showing up on half the participant lists?? Did you hack our phones or what??

NHS: Don’t be so *inane*

Wei Wuxian titters.

“Mr. Wei? Since you seem so eager to speak, perhaps we should move onto your issues, then.”

Wei Wuxian straightens up and points to his chest, the picture of innocence. “Me?”

Dr. Wen smiles thinly. “You, Mr. Wei. Perhaps you can tell us your side of what the school is referring to as ‘The Radish Incident.’ ”

“Well….” Wei Wuxian darts a glance over at Lan Wangji, who is as impassive as ever. “I was just burying him for fun, you know. We like to pretend he’s a radish—“

“A radish?”

“It’s a…you know. A game. I personally like potatoes better, but—”

“Mr. Wei, several parents complained to the school.”

“Because we were hogging the sandbox.”

“Because your son was running around screaming ‘I’m a chubby little radish boy!’ Which in itself would not be cause for concern. But coupled with his troubling behavior the following week—"

XY - JC - JGY - Two Men & A Half

XY : Where did she get these records? Who does she work for, the NSA?

NHS : She’s an astronaut?

JGY : How did you sneak into this chat? And did you rename it?

NHS : 😉

JGY: You're what, an inch taller than me?

XY: someone struck a nerve

JGY: It's just derivative of the other group chat, that's all.

NHS : u said no to "gettin' jiggy w it" i had no other choice. anyway what's happening over there?

JC : I’ll give Dr. W this, that kid is weird.

NHS : who a-yuan?

JC : I’ll give Dr. W this, that kid is weird.

JC : I mean, he’s my nephew, he’s a great kid, that’s not what I’m meant—

XY : *delete delete*

JC : How does your hippie husband put up with you??

JGY : We suspect brainwashing or blackmail.

“—when he decided he was a rabbit or," Dr. Wen continues, "or, as he put it, ‘Daddy’s Huggy Little Bunny Boy.”

“He is Daddy’s Huggy Little Bunn—"

“And only responds to the name ‘Thumper,’ refuses to eat anything other than carrots or food containing carrots, insists on wearing bunny ears—"

XY - NHS

XY : If it’s good enough for Louis Belcher, it’s good enough for Freaky Little Bunny Boy

NHS:

you watch the show too?? I call mingjue “bob” - u know - grumpy mustache guy

XY : I’m sure that’s gone over well

NHS: he’ll learn to love it

XY : A-Qing loves Louis

NHS:

“—hops around instead of walking, and has convinced others of the same…fantasy.”

Everyone glances over at the three children, who are hopping in a circle. A-Yuan has a fluffy little tail on the seat of his pants, carefully sewn on by Lan Wangji. Jin Ling has a handful of cotton balls that had been badly superglued on by an annoyed Jiang Cheng. And A-Qing has a wad of blue cotton candy taped to her frilly pink skirt with a strip of duct tape. As they watch, Jin Ling rips the cotton candy off and stuffs it in his mouth. A-Qing shoves him onto his cottony rear end.

“That’s my girl!” Xue Yang calls.

“Daddy’s proud of you!” Xiao Xingchen adds, though he’s not quite sure what’s going on.

Dr. Wen sighs. “I’m still unclear about how this started. Was it the rabbit incident? Mr. Lan—" She nods her head at Lan Wangji to differentiate between the brothers. Lan Xichen has fallen asleep in his chair, exhausted by his first-ever bus ride. “—I mean, I beg your pardon, Dr. Lan. Perhaps you can fill us in on that? He told his teacher he was attacked by a rabbit monster."

“So he was bitten by one rabbit!” Wei Wuxian says when Lan Wangji just eyes her coldly. “It wasn’t Lan Zhan’s fault. That rabbit was bad news. It had this gleam in its eye—lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eyes—"

Xiao Xingchen emits a muffled little squeak. Xue Yang looks annoyed. He hates when other people make Xiao Xingchen laugh.

NHS - JC

NHS:

JC: yes yes we all get the Jaws reference

NHS: the last movie we all watched together : /

JC: yes I just said that

NHS: like three months ago

JC: and?

NHS: just saying...

“He was scared of the rabbits after that, and so Lan Zhan told him that rabbits only bite their own, and, well…I mean, we have a hundred rabbits in our backyard. It was either rehoming them and making the news like those crazy cat people, or making A-Yuan feel better.”

A-Yuan hops past, wiggling his cotton tail.

Jiang Cheng rubs his temples.

“All right, Mr. Wei. Thank you. That’s…elucidating. We’ll delve into that in future sessions. Now, perhaps we can discuss the June 7th incident involving you and Mr. Xue?”

Xiao Xingchen starts to laugh again. Xue Yang grins to himself.

LWJ - JC

LWJ : What happened on the 7th?

JC : Am I my brother’s keeper??

“Now, the seventh? I was…hard to remember, all that time ago…” Wei Wuxian taps his chin. "The mists of time and all that."

“It was three weeks ago, Mr. Wei.”

“The seventh….the seventh…was that a Tuesday—?”

“Wen Chao had it coming,” said Xue Yang. Smirking, he twirls his ponytail around a finger. His ponytail is long and sleek and sprouts from the top of his head like an 80s schoolgirl's. “Amiright, ‘Mr. Wei’?”

Wei Wuxian coughs. “You mean the Wen Chao who lives on Qishan Road? That Wen Chao?”

“That spoiled rich kid?” Jiang Cheng asks. (“As if you’re one to talk,” says Xue Yang.) “With the oversized Humvee and tractor-sized tires with spinning rims? Zipping down the street at all hours and blasting his music? I went to college with him. He used to leave double-deckers in the bathroom at frat parties.”

Dr. Wen swallows a long-suffering sigh. “Thank you, Mr. Jiang. I’m sure that information will prove most helpful in evaluating your brother’s case. Mr. Wei, your arrest, combined with the Huggy Little Bunny Boy Incident, does not fill me with confidence.”

“Not arrested—"

“Taken for questioning,” Xue Yang agrees. “By the neighborhood watch. Golf dads and wine moms. Very different from 'arrested.' "

"And you should know," says Meng Yao.

JC - JGY

NHS : What’s going on? What am I missing????

JGY: Did you just make a new group chat? Your name isn't showing up. This is disconcerting.

NHS: don’t worry about it

JC : We’re talking about Wen Chao

NHS : overcompensating humvee ex-frat boy with the hair gel? vomit in the jacuzzi and streak across the field at the big game wen chao? ur babysitter's cousin?

JC : The very idiot

NHS : He has nice sunglasses

JC : For a Russian mobster

NHS : Says the guy who owns a purple zebra striped jacket

JC : Says the guy with more bird-themed shirts than Winston Bishop

JGY : Touche.

NHS : i didn’t know u watch New Girl 2! we must talk l8tr shorturl.at/vDI26

JGY : Your abbreviations are marginally shorter than the actual words.

NHS :

JC : Cleaning bird cages does take up most of one’s afternoon

NHS : see, u get it

JC : Dr. Wen isn’t buying whatever WWX is selling here.

JGY : Wen Chao is related to Dr. Wen. If WWX had any more sense than a chipmunk, he’d realize that. No matter how much you hate someone, family is family...

“Wen Chao was a public menace,” says Wei Wuxian self-righteously. “He deserved what he got. Speeding down the street all the time. Think of the children!”

LWJ - WWX

LWJ: Why is this my first time hearing about this?

WWX: You’ve heard me complain about WC a million times. I even named a group chat after him!

LWJ: Wei Ying.

WWX: You were off visiting your uncle with A-Yuan ! You left me unsupervised! I am not to be blamed!!!

LWJ: We’ll discuss this later

WWX: 😓

“Perhaps the better question is where you got all those fish,” says Dr. Wen.

Everyone turns to look at Xue Yang.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he grins.

Xiao Xingchen chuckles.

“Five hundred dollars in damages, Mr. Xue. Raw fish juice is difficult to get out of faux tiger fur upholstery, I understand.”

Xue Yang flaps his hand. “His father can afford it.”

“That is not the—" Dr. Wen stops, perhaps realizing that an argument with Xue Yang means forfeiting a chunk of her sanity. “Moving on, Mr. Xue, can you explain this picture you posted on social media?”

“That picture’s an old one. A-Qing’s just a baby.”

“Mr. Xue, given the recent threats you made towards A-Qing’s daycare teacher for putting her in a time-out for stealing her classmate’s graham crackers and apple juice, this is relevant.”

“Posting that to the public account was a mistake, if that’s your concern. My Insta for A-Qing is private, but I was in a candy store and got kind of distracted by the new sugar-frosted fruity explosion jaw-busting mega bombs—"

“You fail to understand the issue, Mr. Xue. What’s that in her mouth?”

“Fingers. Or is that a toe?”

Xiao Xingchen laughs.

“They weren't real,” says Xue Yang.

WWX - JC

WWX:

JC: Great more gifs

“I think I have one with the Halloween store tags still on—" Xue Yang scrolls through the hundreds of photos of A-Qing filling his phone. “Should be one in here somewhere—oh, look, Xingchen, these are from your birthday party; I tell you, Amazo the Magnificent had no sense of humor at all; you’d think nobody had ever replaced his rabbit with a porcupine before-"

Jin Ling hops by. “Rabbit!” he cheers.

Jiang Cheng groans.

“There is blood on the fingers, Mr. Xue.”

Xue Yang gives a breezy laugh. “Paint. The springy plastic is perfect for teething. You just put it in the freezer for a few hours—real fingers wouldn’t work; they’d freeze solid, which makes good ice packs for those hard-to-reach places, sure, but as far as teething goes—”

Dr. Wen holds up a hand. “Thank you, Mr. Xue. That’s enough. My next question is about this speeding ticket, which you received while your daughter was strapped to your chest.”

“She was wearing a helmet!”

“You were driving a motorcycle down the highway, Mr. Xue.”

Xue Yang glances hurriedly at Xiao Xingchen, who’s frowning. “These were two separate incidents—"

“Mr. Xue, I don’t think that that makes it much better—"

“Ouch!” Meng Yao shoots to his feet. “He bit me! Your son bit me!”

Wei Wuxian scoops up A- Yuan, who's looking very satisfied with himself. “You shouldn’t have worn a carrot-orange shirt, then.”

“It’s not orange, it’s beige—"

“Maybe he was aiming for Xichen’s crocs and missed,” Xue Yang suggests.

Meng Yao pats his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

Xue Yang winks at A-Qing, whose already-stuffed pocket is bulging further. Xue Yang likes dressing her in disarmingly cute dresses and skirts with huge pockets, the better to hide her loot. She grins and twirls a pigtail like Xue Yang twirls his ponytail and skips off with Jin Ling and A- Yuan.

Meng Yao is wearing the fixed smile of a Starbucks barista whose customer just asked to speak to the manager. Never a good sign. “Could somebody be so kind as to call my phone?”

Wei Wuxian makes a show of dialing. No one else moves. Lan Xichen mumbles something to himself in his sleep, chin sunk deep in his chest.

“Sorry, Jiggy,” says Wei Wuxian. “Maybe you left your phone at home?”

“You all saw me using it not a minute ago, and kindly stop calling me Jiggy—"

“A-Yao?”

Meng Yao’s customer service smile slips. “Just stop talking for five seconds, that’s all I ask—"

Dr. Wen shakes her head. At this point she seems more bored than anything else. “Moving along, Mr. Xiao, this is perhaps inconsequential when held up beside your husband’s joyrides with A-Qing—"

“Not a joyride,” Xue Yang interrupts. “That motorcycle is registered in my name. Well, a name—"

“—but A-Qing’s teacher has told me that she witnessed you allowing A-Qing to take candy from strangers.”

“The lady seemed nice,” says Xiao Xingchen, folding his hands placidly in his lap. “She had peppermints.”

Xue Yang sighs fondly.

JC - WWX

NHS: thnx for calling me WWX. reception could be better but this is better than anything on tv. literally candy from strangers?

JC: Dear heaven HE’S back. Just text a chat you're actually on!

NHS: ‘Dear heaven’?

JC: This is inane!

WWX: …not bad

Xiao Xingchen smiles. “She smelled like snickerdoodles and lavender.”

Dr. Wen sighs. “Mr. Xiao—"

“I’ll talk to him later, doctor,” says Xue Yang, patting Xiao Xingchen’s arm reassuringly. “Anything else? What did Mr. Beige do?” He grins at Meng Yao, who’s still looking for his phone.

“Mr. Meng, aside for the fire, which we’ve established is not your fault—though, fiance or not, you should be a bit more judicious in your choice of babysitters—"

Lan Wangji shoots Dr. Wen a look that almost melts the metal clip on her clipboard.

She absorbs it without so much as an eyebrow twitch. “—there is the Treehouse Incident, though I don’t believe the collapse of your nephew’s treehouse was your fault.”

JC - WWX - LWJ - We’re All Cool Here We Promise

NHS : i hear he bought the biggest fanciest one he could then set it up himself and then it fell down at the first storm. if that’s not a metaphor for his life I don’t know what is

JC : That wasn’t funny, someone could have gotten hurt

WWX : it was kind of funny

NHS : it was very funny

LWJ : "Hurt" like a baby at a weapons expo?

NHS : LWJ IN DA HOUSE!

JC : It was an ARCHERY RANGE

LWJ:

NHS: LWJ USED A GIF IM DEAD LMAO—

LWJ: *I’m

“We are suing the playhouse company,” says Meng Yao. “Right, Xichen?”

“Hm?” Lan Xichen sits up with a jerk. “I beg your pardon?”

Meng Yao gives him a patient smile and turns back to Dr. Wen. “As you can see, we have the situation well in hand.”

Lan Xichen has no idea what he’s talking about but nods along anyway. “Of course we do. In fact—" He whips out a recorder and starts playing “Wonderwall.”

“That was…lovely,” says Dr. Wen once he finishes. “Don’t do it again. Now, moving on to the County Fair Incident—"

“Which was an accident!”

“One more interruption, Mr. Wei, and you will be asked to return for solo counseling."

JC - LWJ - XY - NHS - Lan Wangji Pls Stop Vetoing All My Best Chat Names Thnx

NHS : Make him stand in the corner! LWJ, does that ever work at home?

XY : I think he uses *stronger* methods 😏

*Lan Wangji has left the chat*

JC : Xue Yang shut up I will end you that’s my brother

XY : End me with your sparkly little whip? 👀

JC : Your husband’s sitting right next to you you little freak. Allo people are so fricking annoying!

NHS : hey!

JC: I call it as I see it

NHS: your one to talk 😒

*Lan Wangji has joined the chat*

LWJ : *You're

*Lan Wangji has left the chat*

XY : How old were you when you lost your sense of humor, Grape Boy?

JC : “Grape Boy” is that the best you can do?

XY : there are children present

NHS : 🤭 🤭 🤭

JC : Same way there are children present while barreling down the highway at 80 mph on a motorcycle?

NHS:

XY : The state troopers blew that way out of proportion

Dr. Wen taps her clipboard. “Stealing livestock violates Section 2 of the Farm and Livestock Act—”

“No harm no foul,” shrugs Xue Yang. “And Xiao Xingchen gave all the trampled people candy afterward, so we’re all square. Well, snacks, anyway."

“Good snacks,” Xiao Xingchen adds. “Carob-covered rice cakes and trail mix.”

NHS: 🤢

“You can’t just hand out nuts children who might have an allergy—"

“There were also boxes of raisins. Full-size.”

Dr. Wen struggles to keep from rolling her eyes. Jiang Cheng rolls his hard enough for the both of them.

JC - NHS

NHS:

JC: wtf is that get that off my screen

“According to the police report, all three of your children broke into the paddock, released the donkey, and rode him down the main promenade, scattering fairgoers in their wake. I have the video.” Dr. Wen holds up her phone. Loud screams and merry-go-round music blast from her phone. “Mr. Xue? Anything to say?”

“That guy was barely trampled,” says Xue Yang. “Also, I had nothing to do with opening the paddock, whose latch sticks (just by the way), or helping the kids up onto the donkey, so—"

“This was found at the scene.” She holds up black leather necklace with a single red bead. "Look familiar, Mr. Xue?”

Xue Yang touches his bare throat. “I’ve been framed.”

“And this.” She holds up a flute and glances over at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian darts a quick glance over at Lan Wangji, who does not look amused. Then again, he never does. “Since when was I even a suspect—?"

“Since you left your flute there like an idiot,” says Jiang Cheng.

“Lil’ Apple’s paddock was too small! I had to do something."

“Gentlemen—"

The cuckoo clock on the wall goes off, waking up Lan Xichen, who’s drifted off again. He whips out his recorder again but Meng Yao lays a gently restraining hand on his wrist.

Dr. Wen rises. “We will continue this next week. In the meantime, I have some worksheets—"

JC - NHS

JC : Kill me now

NHS : i wouldnt tempt LWJ if i were u…

JC : not like I take up any of WWX’s precious time anyway anymore. LWJ goes out of town and WWX teams up with that nutcase ex-juvenile delinquent of all people to vandalize WC’s car?? In college we stole WC's team's stupid tortoise mascot together

NHS : …..i'll call u later

JC : Please don’t

NHS :

NHS: u can come over on ur own to watch a movie or smthing u know

NHS: ur new line launched already so ur not so busy now right?

NHS: u can bring jin ling along as a chaperone if u want

NHS: hello?

NHS: that was a joke…

JC: okay but no more romcoms

NHS: u brought mama mia over last time not me

JC: I grabbed the wrong dvd

NHS: …..🤐

JC: 🖕

NHS: 😏 see u soon

* * * *

One month later:

“Best session yet!” says Wei Wuxian as they pull up to his house in Jiang Cheng's sleek purple Jaguar. “I mean, Dr. Wen wasn’t thrilled about the whole ‘our kids visited Nie Huaisang’s bird sanctuary and now think they’re skvaders’ thing, but all in all—"

“Just get out of the car.” Jiang Cheng gives him a little shove. They’d all been busy this past month, and had only seen Nie Huaisang once, but that had been enough to convince the kids that they’re hybrid bunny-birds. “I’ll wait outside while you go and get Jin Ling—" He stops. A letter is nailed to the front door.

“Is someone starting another Protestant reformation?” Wei Wuxian jokes. He grins at Lan Wangji, who raises his eyebrow slightly. Excellent. So he found the joke as funny as he did, though going by the way he eyes the nail he’s not thrilled about what just happened to the door’s glossy blue paint.

Wei Wuxian rips the letter from the nail and starts to read aloud. “ ‘We, the undersigned, do hereby declare Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji to be persona non grata on Cultivator Court for the following reasons: One: Wild animals leaving unspeakable “presents” on our lawns—’ ”

Wei Wuxian looks up. “That would be Lil’ Apple. Do they sell donkey diapers?”

LWJ unlocks the door. “What else?”

“ ‘Two: Gangs of feral rabbits rampaging through our flower beds!’ –They do have a point here. How they keep getting loose I’ll never know. ‘Number Three: Loud duets at midnight. We get it! You’re in love! Get a soundproof basement or shut the hell up!’ ” Wei Wuxian wrinkles his nose. “Who spit in their bean curd?”

“Where do these people meet, and can I join?” asks Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian slings an arm around his shoulders, the first time in weeks. Jiang Cheng hasn’t seen much of his brother outside of the counseling sessions. “Dr. Wen says that kind of negativity is toxic.”

Jiang Cheng grunts, but lets Wei Wuxian keep his arm on his shoulder. “I’ll show you toxic—”

The babysitter is sitting under the table with Jin Ling and A-Yuan when they enter the house, building a miniature cenotaph made out of blocks.

“The kids okay, Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks him.

Wen Ning peers out from between two chairs. “We were under siege for a couple of hours. Pitchforks and torches, same old thing. But we turned out the lights and stayed away from the windows and made s’mores.”

“So that’s what happened to all the plastic lawn flamingos. Trampled by angry villagers."

Jiang Cheng pinches his temples. “I told you adopting an incontinent donkey was a bad idea. At least keep his paddock locked.”

“We don’t have to tell your sister about this, do we, Wen Ning? …Good. What did the mob look like? Did you catch any names?”

“They were led by a fat man with a goatee and a skinny old guy with beady eyes and a moustache like two long droopy rat tails." Wen Ning crawls out from under the table. “The skinny guy was wearing bright red and blue and purple clothes and the fat guy had a bullhorn. And my cousin Wen Chao was in back yelling something about the rising cost of dry cleaning in this day and age, I think?”

“Yao and Ouyang.” Wei Wuxian makes a face. “Power couple from hell, and I should know. I’ve been there.”

“Are they those nosy neighbors you’re always complaining about?” asks Jiang Cheng.

“They’ve been after us from day one!”

“Well, having that fierce corpse of yours key their car didn’t help.”

“That was an accident.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“You know, Nie Huaisang has been texting me about this house for sale next door to him,” says Wei Wuxian thoughtfully. “Lan Zhan, maybe we should check it out?”

Jiang Cheng picks up Jin Ling and pats him gently on the back. “You’re just going to have the same problem with the angry villagers, just across town.”

“No, it’s a big corner lot. I’ve seen it. Looks like the Addams Family lives there. Comes with its own little graveyard and everything. Huaisang’s family owns it, and they’ve been trying to unload it for months, but everyone thinks it’s haunted just because of that time I brought those fierce corpses with me on a visit and they got loose—but that’s neither here nor there. It’s perfect!”

Lan Wangji nods.

“Whatever.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Let’s get going, A-Ling.”

Once he’s strapped Jin Ling into his car seat, he takes out his phone.

JC - NHS

JC : Your plan worked

Nie Huaisang:

???

Jiang Cheng: yeah. Thanks for riling them up behind my brother’s back all month. Class move. Direct and straightforward

NHS:

NHS: not that they needed much inciting. wwx blowing up the garage was the last straw

JC : was still weirdly convoluted for no reason

JC : Not sure why you had to get me involved either

NHS: says the guy who lives 20 blocks away but still volunteered to file the noise complaint because, i quote, “the duets *R* annoying”

JC : well you can’t file a complaint about them stopping mid-conversation with you to gaze soulfully into each others’ eyes for ten minutes

NHS : *snort*

JC : If you miss WWX so much 🙄 why didn’t you just tell him straight out instead of pulling this shtick?

NHS:

NHS : there’s another house available down the street just fyi…

NHS: my big fat greek wedding sat night? u bring the dvd n i’ll get the pizza

Shaking his head, but smiling to himself, Jiang Cheng starts the car.

#wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #mdzsnet #nie huaisang #xue yang #lan xichen #wen qing #wen ning #xiao xingchen #xuexiao #xiyao #wangxian #a-qing #jin ling #lan sizhui #jin guangyao #meng yao #lan zhan #cql #mdzs #the untamed #the untamed fanfic #the untamed crack

[nightwingmyboi]

Is it okay to ask for a short summary of the Ric Grayson arc? I want to read the comics but I don't really want to risk my temper and mental health. I just want to see which parts I can read without exploding.

Yeah, I feel that. It’s a bit of a frustrating read. Basically: 

Dick is shot in the head, wakes up with amnesia due to drugs given to him by Dr. Haas. 

Dr. Haas’ conditioning and manipulation, along with his family’s pushy behavior, make Dick hesitant about his family. Bruce showing Dick a video of him being shot in the head is the final nail in the coffin. Dick freaks out, and no longer wants anything to do with Nightwing or the family. 

Dr. Haas suggests moving to Bludhaven. Dick does so, burning his old Nightwing hideout upon arrival. 

Dick is homeless on the streets, and takes a job as a cab driver to get some cash. He often goes to Bea Bennett’s bar, and the two begin to form a relationship. Meanwhile, a cop finds Dick’s suits, and decides to form a squad of Nightwings. 

Dick has violent, reoccurring nightmares, and goes to therapy sessions with the Scarecrow. 

Dick helps the Nightwings beat Scarecrow, and reluctantly is let into the group. 

Dick helps the Nightwings beat other crooks, including Duela Dent. As his relationship with Bea continues to develop, Dick tells her everything--about Robin, Nightwing, the amnesia, and his work with the Nightwings. 

Eventually Cobb attacks, and Dick gets put into memory-altering googles that give him a new set of memories--life growing up as a Talon. 

He is briefly a Talon, and is freed by a lucky hit to the googles. 

Dick has debilitating migraines because of the two sets of memories, and goes to Dr. Haas for help, only to discover her connection to the Court. Dick tracks her down and retrieves a memory crystal--an important tool in controlling him. 

The Joker gets the crystal, and implants Dick with a third set of memories, this one including his parents beating him and him becoming the Joker’s son. 

Dick attacks Jason and then Barbara with Punchline’s help. Eventually, people are able to get the crystal away from the Joker, and Bea gives it to Dick so that he can free himself. He does so. 

The family gives Dick a pat on the back, and the Nightwing suit. 

Dick’s really been through the wringer. I wonder when the last time he’s eaten or slept is...on top of all the brainwashing that’s messing with his head, how is he even functioning. Give this boy a granola bar, aspirin, and a nap please DC. 

If you want a more thorough breakdown, or to pick and choose comics to read, I figured it might be easier if I summarized by issue? Under the readmore. 

Batman #55: Dick is shot in the head. The bullet makes a pfffft sound effect for whatever reason. The suffering begins. 

Warning!! Get ready to be told over and over again in Dick’s internal narration that: a) Dick has amnesia b) he does NOT go by DICK c) he definitely doesn’t want to be Nightwing or be part of his family and d) he is a sad hobo man now. Onward. 

Nightwing Annual #1: Dick talks to his doctor about how his recovery is going. In flashbacks, we are shown the aftermath of the shooting and Dick’s recovery in the hospital. There is a particularly stirring scene with Damian in Dick’s hospital room...but from there the family’s handling of the situation is poor. This is the issue where the family shows Dick the video of him getting his brains blown out to jog his memory. Dick freaks out, and leaves the manor in a panic, determined to have nothing more to do with his family or Nightwing. 

Nightwing #50: Flashbacks to Dick’s time as Robin, fighting the Scarecrow. In the present, Dick tries to acclimate to his new life. We are given details of Dick’s condition, including his blackouts and his homeless status. Barbara tries to talk Ric into returning to the manor, and he refuses. The family concludes that there is nothing they can do. Dick burns down his Nightwing hideout. 

Nightwing #51: A touching scene with Alfred, checking on Dick. A cop stumbles upon the burned Nightwing suits, and decides to become Nightwing himself. Dick continues to try and sort himself out. He is almost mugged, and accidentally breaks out some Nightwing moves, seriously injuring the mugger. 

Nightwing #52-55: A group of cops decides to become Nightwing. Scarecrow continues to cause havoc in Bludhaven. Once again, Dick’s doctor is a supervillain--he goes to a therapy sessions with the Scarecrow. Bea and Dick’s relationship begins to take off; they are actually fairly sweet and have a fun dynamic, definitely a bright spot in these comics (that you’ll want to hold onto). 

Nightwing #56: A bit of a turning point. Dick sees one of the Nightwing squad get hurt, and feels the need to step in--he doesn’t want anyone dying in his place. He helps the group beat Scarecrow. 

Nightwing #57: Duela Dent comes to town. Barbara talks with Bea. The Nightwing’s give Dick permission to work with them, ironically :/ Dick helps them take down Duela Dent. Barbara meets up with Dick and apologizes to him for some of her behavior, then leaves. 

Nightwing #58-61: The Nightwings “train” Dick (lol). They continue to question whether he is capable and can be trusted, oscillating between “wow he’s impressive!” to “I don’t know if the newbie’s ready for this” to “you’re no Nightwing.” Backstory time for the Nightwings, Dick’s relationship with Bea continues to grow (she gets him a phone, which he didn’t have before RIP) and the gang fights a living fire. 

Nightwing #62-63: Dick continues to help the Nightwings. He lets Bea in on everything--the fact that he was Robin and Nightwing, that he was shot in the head and lost his memory, and that he is going out into the city to help the Nightwings when needed. She doesn’t like how he puts himself at risk, but supports him, saying that he can’t help but be a good person. The Court of Owls begins to close in, attacking one of the Nightwings. 

Nightwing #64-67: Cobb attacks Bea, leading to a fight between Dick and Talon. Talon overpowers Dick, and forces him to wear memory-altering googles that implant a second life in his head--a life as a Talon. He briefly becomes a Talon, attacks the Nightwings, and is freed due to a lucky hit to the googles. 

Nightwing #68: Cool Travis Moore art at the beginning of this one, detailing some of Dick’s true memories. Satisfying to see Dick beat Cobb up a little, and tell him that no one can define him but him. And despite all the crazy crap that just went down, Bea reaffirms that she’s willing to stick it out. 

Nightwing #69-71: Memories of his two lives war in Dick’s head, causing debilitating headaches. Bea and Dick discover Dr. Haas is responsible for Dick’s memory loss, and Dick tracks her down. He manages to take a memory crystal from Haas--a key tool in controlling him--but it falls into the Joker’s hands shortly after. Joker uses it to implant new memories--memories of Dick by the Joker’s side as his son. 

Red Hood and the Outlaws #48: A masked Dick Grayson attacks Jason. With Punchline’s help, Jason is knocked out. 

Nightwing #72-73: Bea calls Barbara for help. Barbara tracks Dick down, only to be defeated by him and Punchline. Barbara wonders how Dick could do this to her (because he’s been brainwashed Barb) and is forced to fight Dick in a cage match. Dick’s internal narration has devolved into nonsensical sentence fragments :( He remembers his parents beating him, which is a heartbreaking thought. In the end, Barbara runs away to save a hospital. Dick runs into Jason and Tim.  

Nightwing #74: Dick fights Jason and Tim. Barbara arrives and attacks the Joker, causing him to drop the crystal. Bea (ran from Bludhaven to try to help Dick) gives the crystal to Dick so that he can free himself. He does so. Batman arrives to say that “he’s ours again” and acts like Dick hadn’t just spent the last several comics being treated as an object to be passed around. The family barely reacts to Dick’s return. Bea runs back to Bludhaven, thinking that Ric no longer needs her. Overall, underwhelming and frustrating stuff here. 

Batman #99: Batman hands Dick a Nightwing costume. Back to work. 

#ask #ric grayson #dick grayson #nightwing #long post