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half-oz-eddie · 1 day

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Abuse, violence tw

Steve was in his living room enjoying a quiet, uneventful night.

Yes, uneventful. His favorite sort of night, these days. Exactly 3 months ago, the nightmare which was the Mind Flayer had plagued the city, taking dozens of people's lives along with it.

Steve still had a terrible ringing in his ears, neglecting the probably needed medical attention as usual.

As he enjoyed some nightly news and KFC, he heard a thump coming from upstairs.

He was home alone, as he was most nights.

Steve turned down the TV, startled when he'd heard the thumping again.

He didn't know what to expect. In a town like Hawkins, a town with monsters and alternate dimensions, that sound could be anything.

Steve grabbed one of his dad's golf clubs and slowly ascended the steps. He heard the sound of his window slowly sliding shut as he reached the top of the steps.

He crept to his room and swung the door open, gasping at the sight, nearly swinging his golf club.

"Wait wait wait!" A familiar voice exclaimed in the darkness.

Steve slowly lowered the club. "...Hargrove?" He shook his head. "No way, we watched you die."

"I didn't die. I woke up in the morgue and some...guys and a lady in suits came right away and—and they sedated me and brought me to some lab to...study me. They kept running all these tests on me and shocking me until I would flatline."

"So...what you can't die?"

"I dunno, maybe I can. But I don't wanna die."

"I just..." Steve shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get it. I-I watched you...take a tentacle through the chest. How are you alive?"

"Because whatever that...dark shadow thing did to me...it changed my body. My...organs can like...regenerate."

"That's...uh...that's...pretty cool."

"I dunno, whatever, I guess. Look, I'm sorry about before. About everything. The fight, being an asshole, trying to kill everyone—"

"The last part wasn't your fault, but I'll forgive you for everything else." Steve finally disarmed himself and set the golf club on his bed.

"So, uh..."

There was a loud urgent banging on the door. They looked at one another with wide eyes.

"Do they have a tracker on you?"

"I ditched it before I came here."

"Why exactly did you come here?"

"Because no one would expect me to come here."

The banging could be heard once more.

"Please, Harrington. Please don't tell anyone I'm here. I'm begging you."

Steve left his room without another word, descending the steps.

"Alright, alright, I'm comin'!" He shouted before swinging the door open. "Can I help you?"

"Hello again, Mr. Harrington. Do you remember me?"

"Yeah, sure. How can I help you, agents?"

"A...subject escaped from our lab. He may or may not have disguised himself as Billy Hargrove, the young man who was under the influe—"

"I know who he is. So there's some...thing shapeshifting as Billy?"

"That's correct. If you have any information about the subject's whereabouts, we need you to tell us."

"Did you check Max's house?"

"Of course."

If there was anything Steve learned from all this, it was not to trust the government, especially after how they tried to cover up Will's disappearance.

"Well, you're at the wrong place. Billy and I hated each other. There's no way he, or something disguised as him would think I'd even let him in the door."

The agent nodded. "Understandable. But if you do encounter the subject, do not engage." He held out a card. "Call us immediately."

"Yeah, sure thing. G'night." He waited until the agents piled into their cars and drove away before making his way to the steps, stopping mid-step.

What if what they said was true?

He shook the thought away. As if he'd trust those agents.

But, that didn't stop him from wondering about it. What if this shapeshifter knew Billy hated Steve and saw him as an easy mark to kill?

Maybe he was overthinking it.

He returned upstairs, finding Billy cowering beneath his desk.

"You can come out now."

Billy slowly crawled out. "Are they gone?"

"Yep. I told them they came to the wrong place because you'd never come here."

"That's exactly why I'm here. I'm so glad I was able to trust you."

"But can I trust you?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"If you're the real Billy, do you remember what you said to me in the shower at school that one time?"

"When I told you there're plenty of bitches in the sea and I'd be—"

"Sure to leave me some, yeah." Steve chuckled. "You really got under my skin."

"That was kinda the point."

"So uh...what are you gonna do now?"

"Can I stay here?'

Steve's eyes widened. "Here?!"

"Just for tonight. I swear I'll be gone before sunrise."

Steve reached over and flipped his light switch.

"Jesus..." He whispered to himself in disbelief.

In the bedroom lighting, he was able to see the marks that covered Billy's shirtless body, and the oversized collar around his neck. He couldn't understand how he was able to make it to his house in the cold in only a pair of shorts, with that big contraption around his neck.

"What...is that thing?" Steve asked, slowly approaching.

"It's a shock collar. Like they put on fucking animals. I guess they saw me as an animal too."

"Can you take it off?"

"No, it's...screwed on."

"I—stay here. I'll take it off you."

Steve raced to his garage and grabbed the tool kit. He approached Billy with a screwdriver in hand, pitying him as he backed further into the corner.

"It's alright, man. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna get that contraption off of you."

Billy stepped out of the corner, allowing Steve to slowly unscrew the collar, revealing a neck covered in nicks and burns.

"You...want a shower? Maybe some food?"

"Please. I haven't eaten in months."

"What?"

"I've just been sustained with a fucking IV." He showed Steve the bruising from the ripped out IV.

"Go. Use the shower. I'll bring something upstairs for you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead. It's down the hall to the left."

"Thanks."

Steve watched as Billy disappeared down the hall and into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

He went back downstairs, grabbed the rest of his food and split it into 2 plates, before deciding maybe Billy should have it all and he can have a bowl of cereal if he got hungry again.

Steve brought the plate upstairs and grabbed some clothes from his dresser, then knocked on the bathroom door.

"It's just me." He called out. "Got some clothes here for you."

Billy turned the shower off and opened the door, gently grasping the clothes.

"Food's in my room when you're ready."

Billy nodded, gently closing the door.

Steve sat at his desk, sighing to himself. He loudly groaned when he heard his phone ringing downstairs.

"How many times am I gonna have to walk up and down these goddamn stairs?" He mumbled to himself.

"Hello?"

"Steve? Dude, did you hear?!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Yeah, I heard."

"Is it really a shapeshifter? Or is it actually Billy?"

"I dunno, Dustin, but I don't think we should talk about this over the phone. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow after school."

"Yeah—okay, yeah! Can you pick me up from school?"

Steve sighed. "Sure thing, buddy."

"Cool, later Steve!"

Steve hung up the phone, sighing to himself before returning upstairs to find Billy wolfing down the food, spilling crumbs all over his bed.

"Oh, sorry...did you want some?"

"No, I uh...I already ate."

Billy proceeded to wolf down his food, and Steve just sat there, with so many questions in his mind.

"That was good. Thanks, pretty boy. Want me to wash my dish—"

"No. It-it's fine. You should probably stay up here. I'll go sleep on the couch—"

"No! I-I mean...I don't wanna put you out. I should—I should sleep on the floor."

"In your condition? I can't let you do that." Steve shook his head in contest.

"I just..." Billy sighed. "I don't want to be alone."

Steve looked into Billy's frightened eyes. "They really hurt you in that lab, huh?"

Billy nodded.

This wasn't the Billy steve once knew, but he wasn't a shapeshifter, or a clone, or whatever bullshit the government agents tried to feed him. This was the real Billy. A scared young guy who had been abused relentlessly.

"I'll stay with you tonight. We can listen to the radio until we fall asleep, yeah?"

"You don't think they'll come back, do you?"

"Those agents? No..." Steve paused. "Probably not."

Billy disappointedly sighed.

"I could...stay awake. If it'll help you sleep easier." Steve suggsted.

"I don't want you to do that either. Let's just...sleep. However much we can."

Billy huddled close to the wall while Steve turned on the radio on low volume then crawled into the bed. He placed a pillow between himself and Billy.

This is so weird. Steve thought as he stared at Billy. He watched the pitiful mess sleep peacefully on the left side of his bed.

When Billy rolled over and draped his arm over Steve's shoulder, he initially thought to move it, but, he chose not to. Instead, he reached over and caressed his cheek, a tender moment shared between Billy and the only person who knew he was still alive.

#this has been sitting in my drafts for 6 months #take it #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ivy.doc #caliscoops.doc

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do-it-for-the-fandom · 20 hours

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Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.

Part III: a visit to the morgue.

She knew he was staring, even without so much as a glance in his direction. She kept her focus on the road as she gripped the steering wheel tight.

"What?"

"You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle despite the shortness in hers.

"I told you: I'm fine."

"No, you told me you spoke to Mandy's parents," he corrected her. "You never said that you were fine."

"Well, I am."

"You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"

She eased her foot on the brake as she came up to a red light. Once the car had come to a stop, she turned her attention to her partner and forced a smile. "Of course."

But she can see it on his face: he's unsure whether or not to believe her. She understood why. It's not like she's always been the most straight-forward person when it comes to talking about how she feels. But she was trying to be better at that, for him.

She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel, rested her wrist on the console between them and turned her palm upward: an invitation.

He placed his hand in hers, laced their fingers together and gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She knew - with this simple act - that he was willing to drop it, that he wouldn't push her if she didn't want to talk about it. But she did, for him.

She sighed, bought herself a second to gather her thoughts before she spoke.

"I just- it's been nice, you know? Those few weeks of not being the one to turn people's lives completely upside down."

She tried to protect him from this part of the job. Whenever she could, she would handle this part by herself, distracting him with busy-work, coffee runs or anything else she could think of at the time. Even when he does happen to be with her while she breaks the news to a family, he's never the one to drop such a catastrophic bomb, never the one to have to comfort the grieving family. She carries that weight and she does her damnedest to make sure he doesn't see just how heavy it is. Because it was her job, not his.

But everything was different now; letting him see her vulnerabilities seemed so much... easier.

Not that it seemed to be something that was entirely within her control, given the single tear that slid ever so slowly down her cheek.

The light turned green and slipped her hand free from his, used her sleeve to wipe the stray droplet from her face before returning her focus to their journey down town.

"Kate-"

She laughed a watery chuckle. "Sorry. This tends to happen after I'm off the job for a while," she explained. "I just need a day to adjust, to-"

"Put the armour back on?"

She looked over at him and smiled. She loved how he just... understood. He never judged, never questioned why she kept coming back if she found it so difficult, because he just got it.

"Yeah. Something like that."

They continued their drive to the ME's building down town in comfortable silence. She pulled into the first vacant spot they found, killed the engine and got out of the car; all without a single word. She stepped quickly, rounding the car to stand by the passenger's side as Castle was pulling himself from his seat.

"Everything okay?" he asked as he unexpectedly came face-to-face with her.

He shut the car door behind him but kept his eyes on hers.

"You gonna keep asking me that?"

"Maybe."

Kate smiled and took another step closer; closer than they'd dared to be all morning. And for good reason, apparently. Instantly - as if drawn by some magnetic force - Rick reached up and brushed her hair back from her face, the heat of his touch lingering just a little too long against her skin.

She leant forward and gave him a short, sweet kiss. "Thank you," she whispered.

But short and sweet had never sufficed; and now wasn't any different.

Rick leant forward, claimed her lips with his own. His hands dropped to her waist and he pulled her against him; she draped her arms over his shoulders, crossed her wrists behind his head as she melted against his body. He shifted, turned them so that Beckett was backed against the car and he pressed his body against hers; just the tiniest amount of friction that sent a jolt of electricity through her body and drew a low moan from her.

They heard the screech of car tyres as someone hooned into the parking garage and they pulled away from one another. Rick stepped back, creating an acceptable amount of distance between them and, mere seconds later, a silver Mercedes passed them.

"That was-"

"Dangerous," Rick finished her sentence for her. His statement, though not what she was going to say, wasn't entirely inaccurate. But the tone of his voice wasn't indicative of someone who had learned his lesson.

He sounded thrilled... enticed by the risk of it all.

"Too close," she corrected him.

Rick nodded, but the lust was still dark in his eyes and she knew that that was the real danger: allowing the thrill of danger to seduce them.

Them, because she had felt it too.

The slam of a car door pulled her from her thoughts. They watched as a middle aged man dressed in a nice suit got out of the car and began his hurried stride toward the building.

"Morning," he greeted as he passed them.

"Morning," they returned with a polite smile and nod of their heads.

Once the man passed, Kate began to walk in the same direction. Castle fell into place by her side and they walked in silence until they reached the morgue.

Lanie had been expecting their arrival and was waiting by the entrance for them. She looked at Kate with elevator eyes, scanning the detective's appearance from top to bottom before moving back to look her in the eye. Her mouth curved into a smirk, which kicked Kate's mind into overdrive.

But before Kate could ask her friend what was so amusing, Lanie got straight to business.

"It wasn't a mugging," she announced, then turned and strutted into the autopsy room.

The pair followed, curiosity piqued.

"How can you tell?" Beckett asked as she stepped up to the slab, opposite Lanie.

"Blood splatter on her blouse indicates the shirt was ripped after the gunshot."

"And what about the bruising?" asked Castle.

"Post mortem."

Kate let her frustration out in a sigh. "To make it look like a mugging."

She turned to say something to Castle but the thought slipped straight from her mind when she noticed the slightly tussled hair near his ear. It was only the slightest bit displaced - most likely from when she combed her fingers through it just minutes earlier - so the chances of anyone else noticing it were miniscule. Either way, she didn't want to be the one to draw attention to it so she turned away.

"Someone's trying to cover their tracks," Lanie said. Suddenly, she perked up. "Speaking of which; I figured out what's different."

Beckett froze, fighting the urge the look at Castle to make sure his face wasn't giving anything away.

Lanie pointed a gloved finger at her friend. "You're having sex," she declared before that accusing finger moved in Castle's direction, then back to Beckett.

Beckett's heart began to pound furiously. How the fuck had she figured it out so fast?

Had Lanie somehow witnessed their momentary lapse in judgement in the garage? Or was it just that evident to everyone around them that something had shifted in hers and Castle's relationship?

She swallowed down her fear. "E-excuse me?"

"Oh, don't try to deny it!" Lanie exclaimed. Her eyes darted to Castle's then back to Beckett's. "There's a glow. I know that glow."

And Beckett just couldn't fight it anymore; she turned to Castle and braced herself for the truth to be written all over his face. Surprisingly, he wasn't totally giving them away. He looked surprised, sure, but it definitely could have passed as a Beckett has sex? kind of surprised. She turned her attention back to Lanie, trying to calm the chaos of her mind long enough to make a decision: was she going to lie to her best friend or was she going to crumble and come clean?

"So, who's the guy?" Lanie asked.

Beckett's confused made itself known in the deep furrow of her brow. Two seconds ago Lanie was wagging that accusing finger in Castle's direction and Beckett had been so sure they were caught out.

"Yeah Beckett," Castle played along. She turned her attention back to him. "Who's the guy?"

She smiled because she recognised that tone: thinly veiled jealousy. He was actually gonna sell this.

"Nobody that you would know."

"Are you sure?" Castle pushed. Because Castle would push. "I know a lot of guys."

"I'm sure."

She turned back to Lanie who was looking at the pair with a smirk on her face and the confidence of having sold it faded. Beckett couldn't quite tell if her friends smirk said look at Castle, getting all jealous or if it so loudly screamed look at these two idiots thinking they can fool me.

"Anything else?" she asked, desperately needing to hurry this along.

#my drabbles #kate beckett #richard castle #Lanie parish #caskett #castle #kate beckett x richard castle #castle fanfiction

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warlordfelwinter · 10 months

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getting gale's weave scene after accidentally killing two party members with phase spiders and not having the gold to resurrect them is so funny. half the party's dead the other half's beat to shit and they're just over there having a nice romantic moment like nothing happened

#yeah sorry laezel and shadowheart i'll go sell some crap to resurrect you in a second #first i have to flirt with this wizard #who almost killed me with his necromantic aura like six times #we uh. were not ready for those phase spiders #not even on explorer mode #but i wanted the amethyst you see #i need it for the scary book #fel's bg3 #oc: tav #actually i'm going to reload and go get that gem in a less stupid fashion #so i can have this cutscene without people being injured lmao

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twigwing · 1 year

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yeah i'm a gamer

my time was 21 minutes also

#twigpost #twigplays #yeah sure gamer tag why not #so like. for context i'm a dogshit gamer just piss baby awful like even on easy mode in games i'm absolute dogshit #so you can imagine my agony when i see i must play a classic sonic level #(i've been playing forces (PC) because i want to play frontiers really bad but can't rn btw)#the way forces is set up with the speed/boost type levels with sonic and then the hybrid modes with the avatar and then regular ole classic #it's. killing me.#i know a lot of people think the speed/boost type gameplay is like lazy and not real gameplay or whatever but they are really fun #and i find that i just play on instinct when i'm playing sonic and or avatar levels #but then once i get used to the rhythm of a few of those they throw a classic stage at me #and oh my god i just go to hell. again i'm a dogshit gamer and also there's something wrong with my brain but uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh #i really hate playing as this lil dude. sorry classic sonic but they oiled up the bottom of your shoes i think. enjoy all the deaths

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justagaycryptid · 2 years

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Ngl I/Me/Myself is the absolute WORST song that could have gone viral for Will especially on tiktok of all places because it is an incredibly nuanced song and tiktok users are not particularly known for their understandings of nuance

#just thinking about this earlier #and really this goes for social media in general #but I'm pretty sure it blew up on tiktok #when will sang that he was afraid of his fans in um i mean its kind of a lot its just like yeah me too dude sorry about that one #ngl a lot of will wood fans are some of the absolute worst music fans I have ever seen #right up there with pre-hiatus fall out boy fans and mitski fans #i'm sure there's more those are just the people I am most familiar with though I don't listen to mitski #something something lets put the worst of will wood and mitski fans in a room together and see them fuckin kill each other or whatever #but damn will has some absolute shitty fans like I feel so bad for this man he literally cannot catch a break #like holy shit leave him alone!#hopefully he has a nice hiatus because god knows hes earned a break #and yeah this was a while ago but point still stands #and yeah most of his songs are pretty nuanced but this one is probably more of a sensitive and personal one #also it's so fucking weird how bad people want will to be queer #like I don't know if he is for sure I think I saw something about him being mspec but I don't know if its true #and even if it is it's really none of my buisness #and holy shit not every gnc person is trans #though I have seen him joke about this one so thankfully he doesn't seem too bothered by it anymore #that or he's got a good sense of humor about it #but holy shit it's really just one thing after another for him #will wood #shouting into the void

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cosmik-homo · 2 years

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Again, I've been very much Enjoying JFO, but it strengthens my belief that I would never be ok at being a jedi, and that Nawah, my Dyspraxic Jedi Dropout oc, is a really important character to Have and point out how the physicality of the Jedi in the series- not the canonical Jedi order in general, that had a lot of non fighting people and other focuses before the clone wars and keeps having them on screen, just The Jedi In Star Wars, those who get to participate in narrative- is not the end all of what makes a force user cool or what a force user's specialness IS. Ok this post is getting away from me. Competence In Media Interesting Learning New Video Games While Dyspraxic Weird Crisis But Also Fun post over. Back to essayland

#also from what spoilers I've seen on the dash JFO itself handles that idea of expectations weighing on jedi kids who aren't good fighters #so. if i turn into a trilla suduri blog forever in a few weeks. sorry <3 #but yeah i can do the game! its just that i needed 5+ attempts and all our stims to kill one of those Zeffo Tomb Guardian robots #and my little sister did it only being hot twice despite having played for like. a quarter as much time as i have.#like.#I'm also Decent in star wars squadrons! i am Ok at overwatch!! im still Not Abled and die a LOT and there's a gap between how i learn #and what im capable of to other people. and that's ok! but i would LOVE to have more people in media #who can go on adventures or. just. be important. to things without being able to do backflips. honestly there should be like.#a bechdel test for adventure stories where its like. is there even one character in your cast who's importance does not rely on #physical talent?#this doesn't just matter to disability tho ok it's like. idk i just thonk it's important ok.

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theood · 7 months

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I get why of course but I also really do not care about trying to force people to sign up for rewards and push donations on them and then also force app downloads all to match a quota/set number because some guy in the Big Office said so like. Not to sound like I'm old and hate technology but the fact I've now been on both sides of this 99% of the time I can guarantee you the customer wanted to get out of there 5 minutes ago and nobody likes doing this and if they REALLY wanted to join the rewards program they'd of done it on their own already.

Or.

They're old and ANOTHER app in their name and on their phone is just going to confuse them more. Where I am working now they STOPPED and or are stopping sending out physical coupons like. I don't know who you think your main customers are but not doing mail out coupons for people and or rewards members is making you lose a good chunk of your customers but okay

#like im already being uhm pressured? to Do It More and I was also pushed super heavily yesterday to push our donations even more bc we had #to get rid of them and thats just. its not me man. its technically part of my job but im not a persuasive person i dont have the skills or t #alk to transfer someone to our app. I really truly just want to scan their items and get them out bc thats what 99% of people want sorry #for not Pushing Myself and Going Above And Beyond #it's like. Im selling warranty's wrong. And I get that one more but also. People dont really want to spend more money. I ask if they would #like to purchase a warranty to protect the item. But thats wrong amd I need to be saying its a Total Protection Plan and a Money Back #Guarantee and covers Everything. Oh and yeah its almost half the product. Yeah ik those headphones were 6.99 um the warranty is 20.00 dollar #s. Yeah. Oh also join our app. Are you an app user? Yeah everything's on our app you need to download it. Nothings physical anymore. LOL! Al #so can you donate today? Donate. Donate now we NEED to get rid of these. No we can't just give them away!! We can't profit from that! LOL!#elias.wip #ig it's that #capitalism is a hellscape and sorry for being a peak doesnt want to work entitled zoomer who doesnt care and only wants to do the bare #minimum but I just..... I dont want to do this. no one does and also some people just arent persuasive and that shouldn't mean i cant work #there. the quota shouldn't rely on Just Me. It should be achievable if even one worker is doing it.#idk -_- maybe im just a bad worker actually and I'll never make it in a corporate setting and i should just go into fast food and want t #o kill myself everyday instead but then I'm not pushed to upsell products and services as much #i was made to download the app to be 'able to help new members' i dont fucking shop here/i/ didnt want it.#maybe this is just my depression lol! and I'm just not motivated enough but man. if youre gonna have me on register again all day just let m #e make the idel small talk and 'do tou want a bag :)? Havw a nice day!' and not. pushing 3 different things to every customer

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

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The Love (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: 1,323

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.

Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.

He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.

She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.

"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.

"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."

"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know what love is."

Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.

"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."

Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.

"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."

"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."

"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.

"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."

"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"

Alastor looked up from his glass.

"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."

"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.

"Actually, I do."

Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.

"Alastor! You've been in love!?"

Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.

"Yes."

Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.

"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.

"It was a long time ago."

Alastor took a long sip from his glass.

"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion

Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.

"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."

He trailed off, taking a breath.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.

Alastor shook his head.

"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."

"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.

Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."

"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"

"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."

"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."

"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"

"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."

Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.

"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."

Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.

"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"

"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."

"Then wh-"

"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"

"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.

"I'm sorry."

Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"

"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.

Charlie turned to him.

"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."

"Right you are, my dear."

"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"

Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.

"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."

"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."

"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."

"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"

"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."

The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.

"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.

"Y/n."

It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.

"Her name was Y/n."

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tubbytarchia · 3 months

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Etho doodles in which I let my inner dinosaur nerd take over 😔 and also have no idea how to shade

Get it cause he's old and washed up haha... ok but actual raptor Etho hybrid justification below cut

To be honest the main reason was because I really wanted a hybrid in the mix who wasn't some furry creature and a reptile or amphibian or smth instead. Etho still ended up feathered but whatever it's close enough! But for ACTUAL reasoning:

He does feel damn ancient, like an old deity of the mcyt space that no one can dislike. Dinosaurs are the same!! They're old but still thought of with great fascination and fondness, everyone loves dinosaurs...

Dinosaurs are ever so mysterious, as many advancements as we make there's still so much we don't know. Just as we know jackshit about mister Kakashi skin man. Also, there are so many incomplete skeletons out there. I didn't have a particular species in mind for Etho, because where's the mystery in that? He can be one of those 5% skeleton 95% speculation dinosaurs like this guy!! Missing jaw and all

"I'm a runner, not a protector" - so, a raptor, or more specifically the Dromaeosauridae family, which literally has "running/runner" in its name

But! I'm always a fan of stuff going against its nature, especially in this case! Etho states he's not a runner yet protects his allies rather fiercely even in total silence. Eg refusing to kill Cleo in SL or to give away Tango's location during the LimL manhunt, same for Grian in SL. He was a bit flaky in 3L I think? And he only started to have genuine care for allies in LL with Bdubs? Though he is still very much a runner in many cases like during the LL Wither fight. Research also strongly suggests that most if not all raptors were solitary hunters, and the way I see Etho (through my shamefully limited watchtime of his POVs...) he feels a lot like someone who ultimately only trusts himself at the start even if he's pleasant and allying with others, and doesn't seem to think he can carry his weight in groups though he doesn't voice this a lot. That's just how Etho is, very composed, but it feels like there's an insecurity there, showcased especially in SL but again I haven't seen almost any of his POVs in full so maybe I'm talking out of my ass!! Sorry ethogirls I'm only a sidegig ethogirl myself... But yeah tldr to me he gives off the vibe of an otherwise solitary animal struggling to find 100% sure footing in a pack. In whichever ways he does go against his nature, its not usually made a show of

At the mention of a raptor, a lot of people will probably think of the glamourized Jurassic Park Velociraptors. But those awesome guys from the movies are actually the size of chickens. In general though, dinosaurs tend to be a bit.. exaggerated in media, despite how inherently fascinating they already are. And I think it fits Etho because we all know how the Lifers seem to fear and mancrush on him when he's just some dork with perfect capability to become pathetic at a moment's notice. Still, he's a clearly skilled player and still respected without question Etho's not some killer machine like some people make dinosaurs out to be. He's just a fellow creature fulfilling his role in the ecosystem 👍

dinosaurs are cool

The hook-like sickle claws on the feet... something something fishing rod

I swear I'm not turning all my Lifers into hybrids I'm not!! Still plenty normal humans in the mix I swear....... But Etho is such a radical dude, I really wanted to do something more for him. The whole Kitsune thing that I often see associated with him is really cool. I don't actually know the reasoning for it but I assume something something naruto, but also, him being this ancient mythical cryptid who people know so little about, you know? It makes SO much sense. So anyway I turned him into a dinosaur instead rawr

As a herbivore advocate I also considered stuff like the triceratops (known for how they protect themselves and their own) but nah the raptor symbolism...

#ethoslab fanart #ethoslab #listen I have an ankylosaurus as my sona of course Im a dinosaur nerd #trafficblr #I feel so weird having so few tags um.#hey ethogirls how are you doing whats your guys' favorite dinosaurs #tubby art

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sanguineterrain · 5 months

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restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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kisses4choso · 7 months

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#SUPER SHY

SYNOPSIS: their praises are just too much for you, but in their eyes, you're deserving of every last one of them, and more. CHARACTERS: SANJI, ZORO, & LUFFY WARNINGS: short headcanons, foul language with zoro bc it's zoro, duh! NOTE: @matsunok02 is the lovely person who requested this, but i can't tag you, so i hope this finds its way to you!

SANJI:

your number one hypeman, no matter what.

you put in effort to dress up? he's going to lay down over muddy puddles so your new outfit won't get dirty.

you dressed down today? he's absolutely in awe of your 'effortless beauty', in his words.

when you shy away from compliments, it breaks his heart a little bit

he loves to talk and talk about you, so seeing that it might make you feel uncomfortable makes him rethink a little...

when he realizes it's because you feel undeserving?

he's not having it at ALL.

will make you do self-affirmations; he's not playing

"you're beautiful." "..." "well?" "i'm beautiful..." "I KNOW RIGHT?!"

he's kinda (really) annoying about it, but he's naturally cheesy so you gotta put up with it

and he doesn't limit himself to looks

no, he's ALL about you

you saved the crew's ass with a last minute strategy? you must be a genius!

and he goes into DETAIL

his strategy is mostly getting you used to compliments, so over time they don't feel so disconcerting to receive

if you're one of those people that deflects a compliment by complimenting someone back... he's gonna get you outta that habit

"look at you, i've got you all to myself? how luck-" "you look handsome too." "hm, i wasn't done. let's try that again."

and once you gain confidence around him? he's going insane.

something about your shy smile gets him GOING.

"you're an angel." "thank you, sanji." "ohmygodyou'resosexy."

10/10 confidence booster, might call you cringe petnames but worth it

ZORO

tbh... zoro isn't one for compliments

but he's honest, a man of his word

so if a shirt is unflattering, trust me he'll say "that shirt's ugly as shit"

you ask him how something looks on you really often

he might be saying "DAMN" in his head

his heart's pounding, he's having a coughing attack, he feels lightheaded, and suddenly he's losing grip on his swords...

but out loud? you're getting a "looks nice"

not even a full sentence, sorry

you'll probably hear more skill-based compliments

imagine the crew's celebrating a successful trip with a round of drinks and they're about to make a toast for you

(bc you kicked ass)

and you try to push the credit onto SOMEONE ELSE?

he's ready to fight you

"luffy tripped over his own feet and face planted, sanji missed a kick and started spinning, chopper and ussop fell overboard, nami steered us until we almost tipped over, robin got locked in a storage room, and i almost drowned. give yourself some credit."

now wtf are you gonna answer to that? nothing... so as everyone else is laughing and retelling their stories, he just brings his bottle close to yours, "cheers."

tough love

but he's so serious. you work hard for your acheivements, so if you won't recognize them yourself, he will.

now if you're tryna get a compliment compliment from him?

drunk zoro

he's like 1 shot away from passing out, slurring his words and all

"hmm? oh, where'd y'get that? s'pretty, yeah."

"that smile's gonna kill me one day."

"shit, y'look cute."

"fuck, don't look t'me like that."

yeah, alcohol is his worst enemy.

in the end, he mostly just shows you how he feels through actions LOL...

LUFFY

oh, he's completely unaware

but he's always tryna hype everyone up, and you're not an exception

will ALWAYS compliment you after a fight against the marines

"you did really well out there, let's get a meal to celebrate!"

if you go, "i was kinda useless, i don't know"

he's like "???"

just take the compliment because he's genuinely concerned and will argue with you until you give up

"what do you mean?" "it wasn't my best" "which means you're amazing even when you're not trying?" "oh" "yeah! cmon lets eat!"

if you compliment him, it turns into a competition

"i like your shirt, luffy." "thanks, yours is cute too!" "well, i think it goes nicely with your hat." "i think yours goes well with your shoes." "have you been working out more?" "i have, did you paint your nails a new color? they look cool!"...

yeah, it's never ending bc he doesnt know how to stfu

but trust, you'll never feel like luffy's lying to make you feel better

he's got a way with words when hes not being idiotic

"y'know, you're the kindest person i've met. i'm so lucky to have you next to me."

LIKE DAMNNN why are we being poetic

but if luffy's anything, he's genuine

so trust that the big stupid smile on his face when he sees you is something he cannot hold back

"why're you smiling like that?" "just happy to see you!"

and you're getting tackled to the ground

he doesn't expect anything back when he praises you, he does it because he feels like it

just don't try to deny it because he will NOT allow anyone, including you, to slander your name

also, whatever captain says goes

so if he says you're the bravest, prettiest, nicest, least smelly person in the entirety of the sea, it's true

just something quick to put out ><

#change in format #op headcanons #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #one piece #sanji x reader #sanji fluff #zoro fluff #luffy fluff #zoro x you #sanji x you #luffy x you #roronoa zoro #op x reader #op fluff

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klemen-tine · 2 months

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Blowing Raspberries

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.

TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect

Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot.

Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting.

“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs.

“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it.

“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?”

“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and–

“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.”

“Dami!”

“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.”

Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing.

Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair.

“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life.

Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about.

“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”

Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham.

Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne.

They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads.

“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.”

“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.”

“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book.

“It's Elizabeth Bennett.”

“Jay, I swear to God.”

“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.”

“Little wing–”

“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.”

“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words.

“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs.

He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –

“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?”

“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–”

“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!”

– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present.

“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it.

Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee.

“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle.

Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’

Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason.

“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?”

Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass.

“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze.

Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission.

Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.

The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home.

Y/N quickly shot those down.

Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something.

Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here.

‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine.

“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight.

When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over.

Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child.

Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance.

Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing.

However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away.

Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them.

“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why.

Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here.

++++

“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder.

“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.”

The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up.

Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others.

He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred.

They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home?

Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence.

There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.

Every phone call, every text message going unanswered.

‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking.

‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea.

“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.”

Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector.

“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?”

In the L/N Manor

Y/N walked the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere.

When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm.

Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it.

Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham.

Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him.

Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.

Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window.

“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl.

“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?”

‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face.

“Did F/N do this?”

“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?”

“You’re rooms this way.”

“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice.

“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!”

“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory.

“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.”

Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.”

“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go.

“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip.

“Guys, you’re scaring me.”

“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move.

Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing.

“Wa-”

“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor.

++++

Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages.

Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably.

“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–”

“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands.

“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.”

“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.”

Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say.

“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–”

“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile.

Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.

Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different.

“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his.

“I-I should change first–”

“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.”

“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something.

The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted.

“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty.

Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”

“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air.

Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about.

“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family.

They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like.

Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick.

Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.”

“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman.

“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers.

“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.”

“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper.

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say.

Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries

Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly.

“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-”

“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance.

“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–”

“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family.

Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly.

“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.”

“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”

“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.”

Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.”

“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.”

“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in.

“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.”

“Language.”

“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company.

“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!” Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"

Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.”

He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper.

“Just… just please don’t do that again.”

“It won’t happen again. I promise.”

______________________________________________________________

Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.

977 notes · View notes

pseudowho · 3 months

Note

As usual, I have no one to talk about this but... Have you seen those "mom instincts are cool, but let's talk about dad reflexes for a sec" vids???

Kento with dad reflexes? (Pretty sure he already has it when he's single or even in canon when Yuji is accompanying him in missions lmao)

I'm just in my bed giggling, kicking my feet because I can imagine him having those like when his baby girl would trip and he moves so FAST to catch her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 man idk where I'm going with this it's just making me go skkdkddkdjd

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The footsteps were slow, slick, echoing-- considered. At this stage, Kento didn't know if he and Yuuji were being hunted, or if they were the hunters. He suspected both.

The mansion fell apart around them, broken pipes lazily spewing sewage and muck. Kento felt the softly yielding floorboards beneath his feet, aware that if he wasn't careful, the second floor would very quickly become the first floor and--

"Oi, Nanamin!" Bounding, youthful footsteps hopped up beside Kento, who felt and heard the repercussions up the walls, the crack in the floorboards, the imminent collapse--

With the barest flash of movement, the floor beneath Yuuji's feet was missing, and Yuuji hung by his collar in Kento's iron grip, slowly rotating in the air as floorboards rumbled away with distant clatters. Otherwise, silence. A mildly dismayed hum from Kento, as he twizzled his blade in his other hand.

"Wow, Nanamin! Good refle--"

"Please make sure I do not have to use them, Itadori-kun."

"Ah...yeah."

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Curse-killing on a moving Subway train in the middle of the night wasn't the sort of overtime Kento needed...but when he heard the mission had been given to you, and you alone, he felt a sickening twist of anxiety in his gut. Not that you knew how he felt.

Kento bridled with incandescent rage, seeing you tumble down the rattling carriage, pinballing between poles and seats. Your fatal blow to this filthy Curse was not fatal quickly enough.

"Come on! It's dead, time to--" Kento's call was cut short, sensing imminent disaster as you kicked the door through on the opposite end of the carriage, and the Curse staggered into the walls, making the carriage list sideways, making you list sideways at the open door in your bullet-shot speed through this gloomy tunnel--

All at once, you felt yourself falling from the moving train, rolling and tumbling but wrapped up in something so warm that smelled so good.

You rolled to a stop, still full-body bear-hugged by Kento. You lay under him for a moment, face to chest through the torn off buttons of his shirt. He unfolded you with a soft sigh, hands and knees planted either side of your head and hips.

"Wow, Kento. Good refle--"

"Dinner, I--...we should go out for dinner."

"Oh. Like...now?"

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"Daddy, watch this--"

One little blonde girl, suspended and giggling upside down, caught. Kento, sighing, holding her by her ankle by the tree she was almost certainly too small to climb.

-----------------------------

"Jump, jump, jump, jump, ju--"

A full-suited barrel-roll across the living room, a near-miss with a tiny head and a coffee table corner. The boy peered sheepishly up at his daddy, whose narrow brown eyes glowered down in silent disapproval.

"Daddy, I was jumpi--"

"Hush. Be more careful."

-----------------------------

"I'll race you--"

"No, I'm winning I'M WINNING I'M---"

A flash of movement. One little boy and one little girl, hunched over and suspended by the backs of their jeans, spinning and surprised.

Kento grunted once, loaded down with shopping bags, hooking the boot of the car up with one foot, his keys between his teeth. He spat his keys onto the seat.

A truck barrelled past, its driver certainly not looking for little people. Kento grunted again, dropping children and shopping bags.

"Do not-- I repeat, do not run in the car park."

"...sorry daddy."

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You reached out towards Kento, seeing something glimmer in the honey-blond of his hair. His hand snapped up, grasping yours reflexively round the wrist. He let go immediately, apologetic.

"Sorry, I--...rough day with the kids." You smiled, stroking his cheek, and he leaned into your soft palm, planting a kiss there. Your gaze wandered to his hair again. Kento raised an eyebrow at you.

"What?"

"You've, uhm...got a grey hair."

Silence. A moderately dismayed hum.

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I agree. Nanami Kento has dad reflexes.

-- Haitch xxx

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intheholler · 12 days

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the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

#appalachia #appalachian murder ballads #murder ballads #appalachian music #appalachian culture #appalachian history #appalachian #appalachian folklore #appalachian gothic #tw violence against women #cw violence against women #cw murder #tw murder #folk music #folk #txt

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vanteguccir · 4 months

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fight for you | m. sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x grumpy!reader | Nick and Chris Sturniolo x reader (platonic)

Summary: Where Y/N gets into a fight because of Matt.

Warning: Physical fight, blood, injuries, anger issues.

Requested?: No.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N was leaning against her locker in the hallway of her school during a free period, just waiting for the triplets' last class to finish so they could leave.

The girl had her backpack at her feet, her eyes discreetly running over the people circling the hallway, a bored expression on her face, her body language relaxed but attentive.

Her attention to the movement led her to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two most popular and disgusting girls in school, who were a little further ahead of her with their backpacks on their shoulders and arms crossed, wearing their cheerleader uniforms as if it was the only clothes they had at home.

"I don't know how they weren't embarrassed enough to go and create a YouTube channel, it's obvious that they will never become famous, you know?" Kelly, the "lider of the cheerleaders" was talking to her friend, Jennifer, a look of indifference on her face.

"Yeah, they are so weird." Jennifer agreed, rolling her eyes as she chewed her gum annoyingly.

Y/N stared at them blankly from afar, her jaw clenched and her lips in a thin line as she felt anger rise through her body like lava.

"The worst of all is that Matt guy, he's going to be their ruin-"

That was the last straw for Y/N, her feet moved before she could process what she was doing, and before she knew it, she was behind Kelly, her right hand adorned with her recently manicured nails grabbed the girl's hair, yanking her head back. Without letting go of the bunch of hair in her hands, she used her strength to push Kelly's body towards the floor, throwing her there.

"You bitch!" Kelly shouted, catching the attention of those around her, looking at Y/N from where she was with boiling eyes, her skirt lifting a little as she tried to get up, but before she could do so, Y/N sat on her legs, trapping her so that she couldn't move.

"I'll show you who the bitch is." Y/N spoke through gritted teeth, her right hand curling into a fist and going against the face of the girl below her, smiling satisfied when she heard a pop coming from her "perfect" nose.

Kelly screamed in pain and anger, acting on impulse as she raised her hand that wasn't trying to stop Y/N from doing something again, hitting the side of her face, scratching deeply into her flushed cheek, causing a trickle of blood to run from there and down her neck, hot with anger, hitting the necklace that Matt had given her and that she hasn't taken off since.

Y/N turned her face to the side at the impact, her mouth opening in surprise and anger.

"I'll kill you." Y/N's voice came out angrily, her right hand grabbing the hair on the top of Kelly's head, lifting her head and pushing it back with some force, slamming it against the floor.

Y/N stood up after that, knowing that Kelly couldn't do anything else to her because she was disoriented, and feeling satisfied with her work.

"Do you want to be next?" She asked, looking at Jennifer with disdain as her hands touched the deep scratch, then lowered them only to see her fingers covered in blood, running her tongue through her lips tasting the metallic in there.

"You crazy bitch! You ruined my clothes!" Kelly screamed, trying to sit up with one hand while the other touched her blood-stained cheerleader blouse.

"Say Matt's name one more time and it won't just be your ridiculous outfit that will be ruined." The girl argued, shooting Kelly a look before walking over to her backpack, picking it up angrily and starting to walk towards the cafeteria, ignoring the looks of everyone around her.

Y/N knew that the triplets would be waiting for her in there after their last class, exactly because that class was the closest to the cafeteria, and all she needed most at that moment was Matt, the only one who could calm her down before she punched somebody else.

"Move." Y/N said angrily to the boy who was in front of the door, pushing him hard and entering the space, running her eyes through the place and sighing in relief when she found her boyfriend at one of the tables, accompanied by his brothers.

“Matt, isn’t that Y/N?” Nick asked from afar, staring in a certain direction with surprised eyes.

Matt quickly looked up from his phone, turning his head back, his eyes widening comically when he saw the state of Y/N, who looked like she just came out of one of the Scream franchise movies.

It didn't take long for the girl to catch up with them, sitting next to Nick and facing Matt, smiling a mischievous smile.

"What the hell happened?" Her boyfriend questioned her, his blue eyes traveling over Y/N's bloodied face, clothing, and hands.

Chris reached into one of the pockets of Nick's backpack, pulling out a package of tissues he kept there for emergencies and handing it to Matt, who opened it and leaned over the table to get better access to the wounds.

"Don't worry, it's not my blood. At least not most of it." Y/N responded, allowing Matt to bring one of his hands to her injured face, trying to clean the blood that was almost dry.

"That doesn't calm me down at all." Matt grumbled back, ignoring when Y/N winced as he ran the tissue over the scratch.

"Who and what?" Nick asked excitedly, placing his arms on the table and leaning there so that he was in Y/N's field of vision, as if it were the most amazing situation of his life, making Matt hit his leg with his foot and Chris roll his eyes.

"Kelly and Jennifer. It was about time someone put those bitches in their place." Y/N summed it up, shrugging her shoulders as if it was nothing, but the look Nick was giving her made her roll her eyes. "And they talked about Matt."

Matt momentarily stopped his movements, staring at her in disbelief.

"You got into a fight because of me? Again?" He questioned, frowning. Guilt beginning to take over his heart, he didn't like seeing Y/N in fights and getting hurt, much less because of him.

"Stop being ungrateful, your girl defended your honor!" Chris exclaimed, hitting Matt on the shoulder, making him move his hand away from Y/N's face instantly, afraid of hurting her with the sudden movement caused by Chris action.

"Chris!"

"Sorry."

Matt sighed, closing his eyes and using the index finger and thumb of his right hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down.

"You know I don't like you getting into fights like that, baby. One day you're going to end up getting kicked out of school, or you're going to find someone crazier than you who is going to hurt you badly." Matt spoke softly, resting his hand with the tissue on the table as his free hand traveled to his girlfriend's face, caressing her bruise-free cheek and carefully moving away the strands of hair stuck on her face.

"I know." She whispered back, closing her eyes due to the caress and lowering her head, feeling embarrassed by Matt's gaze. "I'll try to control myself, but I can't guarantee that I'll hold back if I hear someone talking about you in that way again." Y/N spoke, looking up through her lashes.

"Did you at least break her nose?" Matt asked, looking back at her with his eyebrows raised suggestively, his hand still against her rosy cheek. Surprise passed through Y/N's eyes before she nodded proudly, a smirk growing on her face.

Nick laughed at the interaction, raising his right hand in the air towards Y/N, who did the same, completing the high five.

"Obviously I broke her nose, I almost brought all her hair as a gift too." The girl said, opening a big smile when she received a high five from Chris as well.

Matt shook his head, letting out a low laugh.

"That's my girl."

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I'm full of ideas this week, I can't stop writing, so get ready for many more stories. My Ask is open to receive requests or questions, don't be afraid to send whatever you want there! ♡

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