#TW: Abuse

[xfiddlin-fishsticsx]

Everywhere, Everything

DPxDC

Danny looked up at the door in front of him with dread and nearly considered turning back when an image flashed through his head to remind him why he was here.

He was staring down the barrel of a bulky silver gun at a faceless woman with short red hair. Her finger moved and Danny squeezed his eyes shut to avoid seeing it play out again.

After calming himself down he returned his thoughts to the door, shaky and completely ready to run at the first signs of plotting, he rings the doorbell.

After a few moments he can hear clamoring and footsteps before they stop right in front of the door, several locks click and Vlad finally opened the door to an exhausted, tense, somewhat crying Danny Fenton.

Vlad only let his surprise show for a moment before it turned to honest concern as he ushered him inside, he sat Danny down in a cozy sitting room and disappeared into what could only be the kitchen.

Vlad returned a moment later with two steaming mugs, he set one in front of Danny before standing above him and staring down.

Danny hesitantly looks up at Vlad, screwing his face up to portray his confusion. Vlad gave him that squinty, sort of pouty concern again before signing and kneeling down to look Danny in the eye.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

Danny shook his head, “Not hurt. Just tired” and lost.

Vlad studied him, obviously looking for a lie, before huffing slightly and standing up again upon finding no tells that it wasn’t the truth, he moved and sat carefully next to Danny, gently setting his own mug down beside the boy’s and turning to look at him.

Danny looked back. Vlad sighed, “I’m not going to hurt you, little badger, I promise you’ll be safe here”

He spoke softly and though Danny should know better he couldn’t help but trust it. He felt his exhaustion catching up, and all of his anxiety and … slowing down and suddenly he was just tired. And sad.

He felt his chest heave and tears start slipping down his face as Vlad reached out to him.

Hesitantly the man put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer when Danny leaned into it. Danny sobbed against him for a while until he wore himself out and Vlad guided him to a room. He promptly passed out on the bed, tears drying slowly. He slept all night for the first time in who knows how long.

——————————

Danny woke up sore and still tired, he slowly came back to awareness and barely avoided panic as everything registered.

He slowly dragged himself out of the bed and to the bathroom to wash his face. Once he felt more awake and clean he slipped out of the room and down the hall to the stairs.

He found the kitchen and consequently Vlad in the kitchen, he only hoped the man was better at cooking than his— the Fentons as he watched him stir something on the stove.

As Danny inched further into the room Vlad caught onto his presence and slowly turned to face him with a soft smile.

Danny looked up at him owlishly as Vlad used his head to gesture Danny to the seats at the counter before returning to the pan.

Danny slunk to the counter and sat down, fiddling with his sleeves and zoning out on the nice countertops.

Soon Vlad was playing food and setting it down in front of him, slowly sliding it into his field of vision. Danny’s eyes refocused to a plate of warm food, a fried egg, hashbrowns and toast.

He slowly sat up and reached for the utensils placed with it as Vlad took a seat next to him with a similar plate and a mug of coffee.

They ate in silence and Vlad directed him to the game/tv room before he left for work.

It was nice, peaceful. Vlad told him not to worry about ghosts for a bit. It stressed Danny out to no end but he was still happy to take the break.

At some point he had made his way back to his room for a nap. It was warm and quiet and he was so so tired.

——————————

One month later

It had been a month since Danny had run to Vlad and Danny has been 18 for two weeks now which meant his parents couldn’t touch him.

Vlad had taken him (and the cops) to go get what he wanted from the Fenton house, luckily they hadn’t been home. They had been trying to reach him though, claiming they missed their son, they missed him alright, or Danny wouldn’t be nearly as whole as he is.

So now he had his things. And his life. And a guaranteed room in Vlad’s mansion and his castle in Wisconsin.

Vlad had pulled him out of school for his last semester so he could try and catch up online a little bit before graduation. Which meant he didn’t really see Sam and Tuck anymore but they met up when they could and called.

Danny and Vlad had been in Wisconsin for a few weeks now, they were both in need of a break so they left Amity, Red had it covered and Danny had been somewhat succeeding in moderating the ghosts so only smaller animals and less destructive beings slipped through without permission.

Danny took a deep breath as he finished up the last of his school work for the week, now that he has time and could work at his own pace he was excelling.

He was on track to graduate early (though he wouldn’t) and he had started taking some preliminary college courses in his free time as well, which he had a lot of.

Danny was thriving.

Vlad knocked on his door.

“Hey, we’re going to a thing this weekend, we both need to get out of the house— err castle.”

Danny snickered, he did feel cooped up though, “what’s the thing? And where?”

“We’re going whether—“ He began “no I know, just curious.”

“Ah, ok, it’s a business party of sorts, for networking and all such efforts, it will be in Chicago I think, or was it Gotham…?”

“Uhh that’s a pretty big difference in location, and an important distinction, I’m down to hit up the crown city of crime but I’d like to be prepared first thank you.” Danny chuckled

Vlad hummed before he came to his final decision, “I think it must be Chicago, I would have remembered for sure if it was Gotham, I shall check nonetheless but I’m nearly 90% certain it’s Chicago. I’ll be right back,” was the last thing Vlad declared as he turned back out of Danny’s room and left to find a device with whatever email or such he had received about it.

Danny laughed to himself at the man’s antics before he got back, he considered the idea of the event more, a rich people ‘networking’ party. Mannn that sounds like a blast he thought sarcastically.

Was he gonna have to wear a suit??

Before he could think anymore Vlad reappeared with his phone and a tablet open looking through it.

“Ah here we go,” he muttered to himself before looking back at Danny, “it’s Chicago, it’s more of a rich people event than business, and it sounds like some younger people have been invited, so maybe some kids around your age…” he trailed off as he scrolled through more, Danny just gave him a look,

“I’m not technically a kid anymore.”

“Hush…it’s formal attire, we’ll have to get you a suit, I’ll take you to my tailor and pick you something nice…there will be food and refreshments but no full meal, good that means we won’t be forced to sit at a table and eat with a bunch of people…”

He trailed off again as he kept looking through it. He hummed softly as he took in information and Danny grabbed his phone as he felt it buzz

Sammy Wammy ;3

Sam

Hey can you call rn?

Danny

Give me a minute

Vlad and I are discussing stuff

Sam

Ok cool text me when ur good!

Danny

Will Do! <33

He quickly texted Sam back as Vlad started talking again

“I just got a flight set up, the gala is on Saturday evening but our flight is Friday morning, we’ll get there and have some extra time to recover before hand… the hotel is provided with the invite so it’s easy and close, I already put in for our room so all we have to do is check in on Friday when we get there…”

He hummed as he looked over what Danny assumed to be either a checklist or just notes, “you should start packing either tonight or tomorrow, I’ll call my tailor and we can go in tomorrow so start thinking about what you want, I’ll help you with that in a moment, I have some thoughts on color and style to suggest but ultimately Jacie will help tomorrow as well…we’ll get shoes and accessories then as well so for now…”

He looked through the list again, a slight furrow in his eyebrows as he went through what they needed to do in the next two days before the trip

“Hum, I think those are the biggest points, I’m not too concerned about your manners or anything, just be you and the rich people can suck it if they’re miffed,” Danny sputtered, “you know you’re a rich person too right? You fit right in with all those gala folks…”

Vlad turned a look on him, “that doesn’t mean I have to like them, or like myself for that matter, I despise these events becuase of the image I am forced to portray, you, my young, vulnerable Danny, have no image to your name yet, that means you have complete freedom this weekend, I’d prefer you be respectful and not drag my name but if you do something foolish I will not hesitate to verbally disown you in the face of the situation.”

Danny laughed again, it felt good, had he not been laughing before? “Honestly that’s fair, I won’t do anything stupid though, I’d rather not have a bunch of pissed off rich people on my ass.”

Vlad nodded approvingly before double checking the list, “ah do you have your work done for the week yet?”

“Yep, just finished up before you came in”

“Even your prep work for the college classes?”

“Yep!”

Vlad studied him for a moment, before smiling and nodding, “good, keep that up and you’ll get somewhere with it, I want better for you Danny, you deserve to get further than I ever did, and further away from those bast—“

His eyes glowed a bit as he cut himself off with a snarl, Danny gave him a sad look, he appreciated the anger, honestly, it was nice having someone aside from Sam or Tuck getting angry on his behalf, it was even better having Vlad do it and still stay in control so easily, Danny had stopped getting angry after meeting Dan, the fear of what he might become worse than any rage he felt.

Even though he knew deep down it couldn’t happen again already, he was here with Vlad and he had yet to feel bad enough to ask for half of him to be removed (like a coward) besides, Danny’s Vlad would never agree to such a thing, in fact Danny had made him swear he wouldn’t ever let Danny do that, and he had promised, even though he was confused.

Vlad walked around his bed to pat his shoulder and Danny initiated a loose hug, he appreciated that too, Vlad let him initiate everything and he respected his boundaries so well too. It was nice having someone who acknowledged that he didn’t always want to talk or be touched.

Vlad had made a lot of progress towards redemption in the last couple of years, even more so in the last month, Danny was proud of him, and thankful for the dedication to be better for him

———————

Another snippet! This one I already have a couple more chapters written for and a very clear storyline set out, this will be a full fic! This is like half of the first chapter which is posted in full on my Ao3 (linked above!) the fic is linked below!

It’s a spirit Halloween fic in which Bruce and Danny become infamous business “rivals” when they’re actually making out in bathrooms and closets bts

Secret relationship and fake rivals, strangers to lovers to strangers back to lovers again. They meet before bruce leaves to train and again when he returns and Danny opens up shop…

#dp x dc #danny phantom fics #bruce wayne x danny fenton #rivals to lovers #fake rivals #secret relationship #Vlad redemption #spirit halloween #danny phantom #batman #batfam #tw: weapons #tw: abuse #just at the very very beginning #and it’s not intense at all #fluff #lots of fluff

[thecuddlycauldron]

Just wanted to share a little of my personal story with you lovely people. ♡ This will deal with some sensitive subjects, so please proceed with caution ♡ I get a lot of asks saying things like they feel they will never meet someone to love, and be loved back. I am happy to answer these, I am a hopeless romantic, but I will save everyone a little time: YOU WILL. And I will never say anything different.

Before I met my husband, I had dozens of relationships. Some were good, some bad, and one destroyed me completely. This man took everything from me, and I am lucky I got out alive. I was addicted to drugs and horribly in love with this man who abused me in every way possible, fed my addiction, and would have killed me if I stayed even a few months longer with him. I was trapped in hell and I knew I was going to die, either by my own hand or his. It was a matter of when, not if. My husband lifted me out of that dark pit and saved me, as cheesy as that sounds. He helped me get sober, he stuck with me through my relapses, my PTSD, the police reports, everything. Without a second thought. I won't lie, I was a mess of a human and everyone had given up on me - and I don't blame them for a second. I had given up on me. I had given up on being loved properly, lost my way, lost what it meant to feel any emotions besides shame and a perpetual sense of terror, of being unsafe no matter where I was. But he never faltered, he never doubted my ability to change, he held me and stood proudly by my side as I sent that man to jail.

No one felt less deserving of love than a drug addicted girl who had lost everything and had grown to only know fear and anger as a form of love, who believed she deserved to be hurt and scared all the time. And to be honest, I wasn't a good person. I was manipulative, I was mean, I pushed everyone who wanted to help me away. But my husband was there for me and more than anything, he loved me.

If I found the person to love me despite all my faults, I can promise you that you will too. Thank you for listening if you made it this far! I feel honored to feel safe enough to share some of my story with you ♡ If anyone is struggling, please feel free to reach out to me, not just for a reading, but to talk. I have been there and done that, I have lived quite the life, and I am a good listener. It will get better. You will find love. And you will be okay.

#my post #tw: abuse #tw: drugs

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Hey there,

You’ve got a lot of insight into Ed and his whole journey from S1 to S2. Apologies if you’ve covered all this already (and I’m not the most articulate of people so also apologies for any confusion), but I’m interested in your thoughts…

I get the impression that a basic debate here is that either Ed is a psychopathic sadist (who basically ‘reigns in his sadistic tendencies’ until he loses Stede) or he’s someone struggling with his own self loathing and the toxic environment he’s had to live in (or maybe I’ve missed the mark entirely).

If it’s the latter, do you think he becomes at all vindictive in S2? Or is he more going through the motions of what he thinks is expected of ‘the pirate Blackbeard,’ because he’s somehow trying to cut off his emotions or is just tired of even trying to be anything else (ie himself) anymore? Or maybe it’s something else?

Also, to me personally it seems like Ed is stuck in… how to describe it… a depressive stasis at the beginning of S1, like at least resigned to death but doesn’t actively seek it until the end of S1/beginning of S2. I can’t decide though if in S2 Ed wants to take the crew with him (because that at least means not dying alone, like the mother and the cat in Crimes of the Heart), or if he doesn’t mind one way or the other what happens as long as he’s dead, or if the goal is to actively make the crew despise him because he thinks hatred and death are what he deserves?

Again, sorry if I’m beating a dead horse here…

Thanks!

So a lot of people have written a good bit about this. This is just what I think (and my thoughts may change—I'm planning on rewatching "Red Flags" today).

When we meet Ed, I think he is depressive and perhaps passively suicidal—he's talking about how the one thing he hasn't tried yet is death, but he doesn't seem to be really looking to die, and meeting Stede makes him re-evaluate the life he's been living and what he wants from it.

Stede and the space of the Revenge make Ed feel safe to express the parts of him that he’d concealed within Blackbeard in order to survive (the whole bringing out of his mother’s silk and Stede giving him the space to wear it openly on his heart). He tries to find this again with the crew after Stede leaves him, and it is Izzy who tells him that he is not safe unless he is Blackbeard (by directly threatening him and telling him that he would be better off dead than being the person he is).

I think a lot of what he’s doing at the end of Season 1 and into Season 2 is malicious compliance - “You wanted the caricature of Blackbeard, well HERE HE IS!” By the time we pick up with the Revenge in Season 2, he's moving from passive to active suicidality - he has been unable to correctly perform (Izzy invoking Stede and the fact that Ed's feelings are what have made the atmosphere on the ship toxic - quite literally his inability to conceal those feelings have poisoned everything around them, according to Izzy. Ed's feelings themselves are poisonous). Ed cannot reconcile his past with what he wants to be with who he is, and he has lost the safe space to be Ed.

I don’t think he wants to take the crew with him - his first move is to try to get Izzy to kill him; when that fails, he tries to get the crew to do it. If anyone actually just pulled a gun and shot him, he'd not try to stop them. He’s goading them until they’re forced into a space where they either have to die themselves or take the initiative and kill him (hence his “finally” right before his death).

Ed has been working to become all the monstrous/demoniacal stories about himself, the ones that have been told by the English and by his trio of monstrous fathers. He hates them but he also wants their approval, and he’s transforming himself into the monstrosity that others say he is. His love for Stede and the things that he was allowed to access via his relationship with Stede are the soft, genuine parts of himself that he has been told are not him but that he's also now incapable of concealing. He’s not worthy of that softness, he’s not worthy of love, and so he tries to kill it.

He’s going to die on Stede’s ship, with Stede’s cravat around his throat, murdered by Stede’s crew, as a final confirmation that all the things he wanted to be, and all the love he felt, he wasn’t really worthy of, that Stede was right to leave him because look at what he’s done, and that the people who loved him should never have loved him. He’s dying like all his monstrous fathers have died, murdered by people who once cared for him and whom he should have taken care of, but failed to because he's a monster.

#reply #ofmd #tw: abuse #tw: suicide #our flag means death #edward teach #ofmd meta

[bonefarm]

While we are on the subject - financial abuse is not always just physically taking money away or not having a savings account or escape stash. For a lot of people it is the other spouse sabotaging your credit score, constantly overspending, and you being unable to trust that joint household bills and loans are paid. Did you know that once you add an authorized user to your bank account it’s nearly impossible to remove them without their permission? Did you know that your spouse, who likely knows your birthday and SSN, can often gain access and reset passwords for any online accounts and create new ones?

Financial abuse will ruin your life and there’s really nothing except significant time that fixes it. If you are in a situation where you think this might happen to you you should freeze your credit with all three major agencies. You can find info on how to do this at USA.gov/credit-freeze

This is not something that only happens to tradwives. You are not exempt because you are independent or competent.

#tw: abuse

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

I’m a fierce believer and defender of Smooth Brain Astarion (affectionate).

I love that, if left to his own devices, he ends up dead in a ditch. I love that this pasty menace of an elf is a walking disaster. I love that his brain produces one coherent thought per day, only to have it backfire on him later on. I love that his first choice in freedom is to unapologetically be the worst version of himself. Because it makes sense. 

That’s what abuse and trauma do to your brain—they fuck with it. 

And in Astarion’s defence, the man didn’t have to use his brain for nearly 200 years—it’s probably the very thing that kept him as alive as he can be; to survive 200 years of pure shit. 

And what use is his brain when his days and nights are dictated by someone else for as long as he can remember? When he has no say in what clothes he wears. When he doesn’t get to choose what or when to eat. When his body and mind aren’t his own, distorted by torture and hunger and self-loathing, forced to obey his vampiric master. Why use his brain when his survival depends exclusively on his abuser’s whims? 

Astarion could’ve come up with the most brilliant plan possible to escape Cazador or save a mark from their doom, but he never stood a chance of succeeding—which doesn’t mean that he didn’t get punished for trying (or even thinking about it) anyway.

Existing under Cazador was a game he couldn’t win, so why bother playing? 

And it’s only by chance that Astarion’s autonomy is returned to him literally overnight. It’s only natural that he’s overwhelmed by his newfound freedom. How is he expected to make sound decisions when he can’t even recall a time when he could do and say as he pleased? 

Of course Astarion is a walking disaster when he finds himself on that beach after the Nautiloid crash—and he’s fully aware of that! That’s why it’s so crucial for him to get on the player’s/other companion’s good side.

He’s self-aware enough to be so insecure about himself that he would rather trust a stranger’s capabilities than his own. 

Being a catastrophe of a person is part of Astarion’s character journey. Not only does he have to reclaim his personhood, he has to learn how to depend on his own brain again and I think that's such a painfully beautiful, important message Baldur’s Gate 3 sends. 

Because healing isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy.

You’re not alright the moment you’re free of whatever horrors you had to live through—and that’s ok! There’s time and room for you to adjust. 

And the moment Astarion feels more or less safe within his new environment, when he’s fed and treated like a person worthy of respect and consideration, his insights, skills and perception are crucial assets to the group.

Astarion knows his art and literature, and although his little remarks are unhinged at times, he's genuinely witty. Even his objections are, considering the circumstances, absolutely legitimate.

Personally, I love seeing Smooth Brain Astarion become more and more secure in his judgement the more Tav/other companions trust and support him.

Astarion is smart, his brain’s just been stewed for nearly 200 years.

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #baldur’s gate iii #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion headcanons #smooth brain astarion I will defend you until you can do it yourself #trauma can give you literal brain damage #of course he's a little eccentric #tw: trauma #tw: abuse #smooth brain astarion

[republicanidiots]

Nicole Simpson would be 64 years old if Simpson hadn't murdered her.

Fuck mourning OJ Simpson. He was a football player. Nicole was a young woman with children who tried to get away.

Here come the journalists weighing in about OJ Simpson's "complicated history" -- it's not complicated. He killed his wife because she wouldn't take his abuse.

#OJ simpson #Nicole Simpson #tw: abuse #tw: physical violence #tw: murder #sports legend #sports #football

[liminish]

#tw: verbal abuse #tw: abuse #welcome home #wally darling #dhmis #yellow guy #i love yellow guy he's so precious #wally would be a good uncle

[yasminthespiritfaninnit]

I will say one more thing before moving the fuck on and waiting for more. Cause I have a feeling there will be more eventually.

I am completely believing and supporting Shubble. Shubble’s the victim and she did not name her abuser for a reason. We should not jeopardize her plans.

Now, on a unrelated note, I will still be supporting Wilbur as well until if he’s found to be 100% clearly the guy who Shubble is talking about.

I believe in innocent until proven guilty and similarities and coincidences (like Wilbur also being a biter and someone with a messy place (and an ant infestation), and Zoe leaving Lovejoy for some reason) don’t equal evidence.

It’s hearsay and conjecture and I want to see more shit then that to believe that Wilbur’s the abuser.

So, I believe Shubble and that she needs all the support she can get. And I believe that Wilbur is innocent. Until there’s a legitimate update, I will be moving on from this.

Speculating on who the abuser is will only put Shubble in more danger. There’s no good result coming from jumping conclusions right now.

Hug Shubble and keep Wilbur out of this until there’s a legitimate connection. And even if there is a connection, focus on helping Shubble. We aren’t the law, y’all!

#shelby shubble #shubble #wilbur soot #tw: abuse #you can reblog this #and all of my other posts of course #discourse

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

If you really want a treat, scroll through the Wilbur Soot tag on AO3 and go to the most recent chapter updates. The authors have some insanely well articulated thoughts and points about this all, and it's crazy to watch them bring their work to a screeching stop to firmly leave Wilbur to burn and support Shubble. This has been some of the most unanimous support I've seen for any victim online, ever, and it's insane.

#wilbur soot #Wilbur soot abuse #tw: abuse #sort of #shubble #shelby shubble #ao3 #fanfiction #I realize these tags are incredibly concerning out of context but I promise this isn't weirdchamp

[arradraws]

More things about backs... 🗡️

#baldur's gate #baldursgate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanart #astarion bg3 #bg3 #bg3 fanart #bg3 astarion #astarion #art #myart #cazador #cazador szarr #bg3 cazador #tw: blood #tw: abuse #tw: violence

[mysteriouswolf]

I'm going to start this off with saying it hurts. It fucking hurts. It hurts so, so much, and there's parts of me that still desperately want to look for a way out, to make him not the bad guy, but there isn't one.

Wilbur Soot is a fucking asshole. A piece of absolute trash, and it hurts. Because I've looked up to him for so many years now. He's been such an inspiration and comfort in my life, from dealing with issues I have myself, and giving me all the more reason to stay here. And now he's turned out to be like this. To anyone who's been following what I reblog about him, it's conflicting, because my thoughts seem to change by the minute. But I'm hoping in saying this I can clear my head and make a definite decision.

I will never be supporting Wilbur ever again. No matter how much better he gets, I don't care. What he did was unexcusable, and if you think otherwise, you can fuck off of my blog. His "apology" wasn't an apology, and for the most part all he did was defend himself. The responses from other content creators have pushed me to agree that yes, fuck Wilbur. He's an ass. I think I've stated this a couple times.

What he did to them, especially Niki and Tommy was inexcusable as well from what we know, and since Tommy is going on tour in about a week (if he's still going/up to it) PLEASE no one harass him with questions, or how he feels. Please, just leave him alone. I'm sure it's a lot to process for him too- even more than us.

I've seen some posts saying how we should be angry at other content creators for not speaking out sooner, but some of them have hinted at it/tried. And others haven't known enough, or didn't want to start causing something against him. The same reason Shelby didn't want to say his name. Maybe they couldn't. Please leave them alone.

The last thing I would like to say, is maybe controversial. If you disagree with me, I don't care, this is purely my opinion.

You can still enjoy his character. Your stories, your artwork, all that you've done with it. Don't feel bad about keeping it up, because that's yours now. You've worked so hard on it, and cared for that character so much that it's become far more yours than his. In regards to his music, I know his songs have provided a lot of us with comfort, including me. It's going to be really hard for me to stop listening to something I loved, but I'm going to make the effort- especially with his solo albums. Also, please don't harass the other members of Lovejoy. From what we know, they're lovely people, and if you're going to stop listening to them, great, do that, but don't harass them. Please. And if you do choose to listen to them, there's ways you can listen to music without supporting him- in my opinion covers are the best way to do that, but that one is up to you.

To wrap this up, I'd just like to say...please don't send death threats, or threats in general to anyone involved in this situation- including Wilbur. Leave them alone. Please.

This is subject to change if we get more information, but for now and the foreseeable future, this is my stance. I wish everyone hugs and comfort. This sucks. I'm sorry.

#wilbur situation #wilbur #wilbur soot #cc!tommy #tw: abuse #tommyinnit

[catharusustulatus]

Steddie Drabble, TW: child abuse.

Initially, Wayne doesn’t care for Steve. Calls him “the Harrington boy” or “Richard’s son” with contempt, asks if “Richard’s son” is coming over for dinner again and Eddie just rolls his eyes and says “yes, Wayne, STEVE is coming over at 7.” Wayne doesn’t like him because…well, he’s not stupid to judge a book by its cover, he thinks.

But the fifth time Harrington comes over, he brings a bouquet of flowers, and Eddie, well, his cheeks are redder than the spaghetti sauce Wayne’s been stirring, so that’s something.

And then the sixth time Steve comes over, he brings Wayne a Garfield magnet. It’s small, “found it at the thrifty mart with Robin, I’m sorry it’s not brand new…” Steve mumbles, and Eddie is wide eyed and smiling, and Wayne LOVES Garfield. He puts it on the fridge, pats Steve on the back, says “um, thank you son.”

They fall into a pattern, the three of them. Steve comes over for dinner every Friday night after work. He dresses clean and is polite to Wayne, helps with the dishes, sometimes brings bread rolls or licorice or beer or jokes. Eddie starts setting the table. Wayne starts laughing at the jokes. After Steve leaves, Wayne knows Eddie smiles himself to sleep. It’s different, now.

And then the next time Steve is supposed to come over for dinner, he doesn’t show. Eddie had been making macaroni and cheese all evening, grating the cheese carefully as he bopped his head to some metal song, cheerful, and then it was 7 and then it was 8 and then Wayne thought “maybe call him, Ed.”

Nobody answers. When they call again, nobody answers. And Wayne has a bad feeling about it.

It isn’t until almost 11, dinner cold and Eddie pacing, about to radio someone named Robin when Steve’s car pulls up, they know the lights so well. They run outside to greet him and Eddie freezes when Steve starts falling out of the drivers seat, face dark and pained. Wayne jumps into action. Wayne catches Steve and hauls him into the trailer, his living room, and oh god, he’s covered in bruises like he was put through Eddie’s cheese grater, and oh god, Eddie’s broken out into tears behind him.

Steve’s left eye is swollen shut, and his face is purple and bloody. His lip is split and his hair is wild, his shirt is torn, and Wayne wonders what’s underneath the shirt as he gets the first aid kit, wonders how the hell he thought Steven was anything other than an angel.

Eddie gets a dish towel wet in the kitchen and cleans Steve’s face, quiet and crying, and Wayne sets the first aid kit down next to Eddie and makes some coffee. He thinks about talking, doesn’t. Touches the Garfield magnet for good luck. He feels like maybe Steve needs it.

Steve who is holding Eddie’s wrist as he cleans him up, wincing and crying from his good eye. Finally, after a silence that gives Wayne heartburn, Eddie sits back on his heels and says whisper quiet, “your dad?”

Steve gulps, blinks. “My uh, my dad. I was writing you uh, uh a love note.” Eddie looks over at Wayne. Wayne wipes his brow. “But uh, he found it, and your name’s not uh, Edith” Steve lets out a chuff, winces again. “So he asked what was going on, and I told him. I told him. And then he said I had one minute to take it back or he’d make me take it back.” Eddie lets out a small gasp, more like a howl, and sits completely on the floor. Wayne sits down at the table, cold mac and cheese looking like a sick joke. And he’s so mad. Wayne is so, so mad, seeing this young man who so obviously loves his pride and joy, shares in his pride and joy, who brings him apples to make apple pie, he growls out

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Steven, not one thing. You stay here long as you like, hell, don’t leave. We got you, boy.”

And that’s that. Steve crumples in on himself, and Eddie pulls him into a big hug, just holds him, rocks him, coos “a love note, huh, sweetheart? For me?” And Steve nods until he nods off.

The next morning, while Robin takes care of Steve, Wayne and Eddie break into Steve’s room, clear out everything he owns, and slash his dad’s tires. That was Wayne’s idea - the least he could do for a loved one.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #wayne munson #I just am obsessed with Wayne being like who is this snotty rich kids oops I adopted him #Wayne and Steve forever #also Steve gives me huge scared of my dad vibes #so I just feel like if he came out he’d be beat up #tw: abuse #but I also think that if Steve was hurt #Wayne and Eddie would be like oh yeah? death to you #anyway idk #I just love them your honor

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Permission

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: If Rafe doesn’t want you to go somewhere, that’s what you should do. Except you don’t. 

WARNINGS: Toxic Relation; Domestic Violence/Abuse

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“She’s not going.” 

You and Sarah groan at the same time, eyes flicking to the door where Rafe stands. 

“Stop snooping, Rafe! And get out of my room.” Sarah throws a pillow at her brother but he barely pays attention to her, his stare directed at you. 

You cross your arms, annoyed. 

“What?” 

His eyebrows raise at your snappy reaction and he puts his hands on the pockets, his hair messy. 

“I said that you are not going.” he repeats, voice layed with determination.

Giving Sarah a small apologetic smile, you leave her room, not bothering to look at Rafe as you head for his room. Plopping onto his bed, you reach for your phone but as soon as you touch it, Rafe snatches it. 

“Can you stop being so annoying?” you glare at your boyfriend, but he only smirks. 

You curse as Rafe takes the phone away from your reach. 

“Say you’re not going.” he insists. “Say it and I’ll give it back.” 

You throw your hands in the air.

“Why are you being so pushy about it? What’s wrong with going to a party?” 

He squints his eyes at you and you can already guess what’s coming.

“It’s not just some party, is it? It’s a fucking Pogue party, filled with them.” you can almost taste the disgust in Rafe’s words, his lips curling downwards. 

“...and I don’t want you near Sarah’s friends. They’re bad news. Especially that John B guy … and JJ.” 

“Well, that’s not your decision to make, babe.” You push yourself off the bed, but he grabs your arm, swirling you towards the bed. You squeal, falling down and you’re about to yell at him when his hand wraps around your neck. 

Your hand instantly claws at it, the increasing pressure making you feel uncomfortable. Rafe’s lips only curl into a half-smile, dodging your attempts to knee him. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, yeah, baby?” his tone darkens as he looms over you “You’re not going to that stupid party. Understood?” 

You feel the tears burning in your eyes as you frantically nod, a shaken breath escaping your lips when Rafe releases your throat. 

Touching the sensitive skin, you look up at Rafe, an unbothered expression glued to his face as he looks at you. He throws your phone to the bed, winking at you.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

"Oh shit.” 

You follow Pope’s eyes and turn around. Your body freezes on the spot, eyes rounding up as you catch the sight of Rafe exiting his truck, his head moving as he looks around, a pissed off look plastered on his face. 

You’re screwed. 

“Isn’t that your boy, Rafe? What the hell is he doing here?” Pope asks and you dive, hiding behind his figure. Rafe was starting to create a ruckus shouting your name, Topper and Kelce with him.

Their presence makes you nervous and you decide it’s time to skip the party before anything more dramatic happens. 

“You know what, I think I’m just gonna head home and-” you yelp as your arm is roughly pulled.

You barely have time to say anything before you’re being dragged away and you wouldn’t even have to look to know that it’s Rafe. 

“Rafe, stop! You’re hurting me!” your pleas don’t stop Rafe, all the bystanders shocked yet no one daring to intervene, moving away from you. 

You trip on your own feet and end up colliding against Rafe’s body. You whine, pleading with him to slow down but your boyfriend seems to have gone mad. 

He pushes you inside his truck without a word and as he walks to the drivers side, you look through the window, catching Sarah and JJ heading your way. You shake your head at them, they’re too far and you doubt that Rafe would enjoy them interfering. 

The truck starts and soon you’re on the road, small sniffles from you filling the space. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

Rafe’s fingers tighten around the wheel, turning white. 

“I told you not to go to the party, didn’t I?” he starts “If you fucking listened to me, then this wouldn’t have happened. You only have yourself to blame.” 

You bury your nails in your bare thigh, despair starting to hit you. Without a second thought, you grab the handle, forgetting about the moving car. 

It doesn’t work, Rafe quickly grabbing your hair, aggressively tugging you back inside. Both of you fight and you scratch his hand, crying out. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” 

The car stops, and you barely have time to process what was going on before your cheek implodes with pain, your face turned to the side with the impact. The bruising grip hurting your scalp as he uses it to recline your face. 

He closes in, his features molding a scowl. 

“I don’t think you fucking understand. I say, you obey. As simple as that.” he tugs on your hair, a reminder of his power over you and a tear slips from your eye. 

“And I swear to god that if you push it one more time, baby, I’m gonna fucking destroy this pretty face of yours.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #dark!obx #dark obx #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron x reader #tw: dark content #tw: toxic relationships #rafe cameron x reader #tw: manipulation #dark!fic #dark fic #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #tw: stalking #obx imagine #obx x reader #tw: abuse

[diejager]

if you don't mind can i ask for your take on civilian s/o and yandere makarov? i wonder how he behave around an s/o who's like the opposite of him (like they're kind, gentle and has not known violence ever). hcs or short scenario or anything depends on you i don't mind (there's a drought of makarov content tbh 😮‍💨).

thanks for considering this and please take your time. have a good day 😚.

”Love” Cw: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, delusions of love, humain training, forceful taking, verbal abuse, tell me if I missed any.

Makarov doesn’t love. He knew how to, but he never truly did. He couldn’t with the heart and mind he grew up cultivating, to build his empire and strength, dwindling his heart’s empathy. Ironically, such ignorance towards love only increased his obsession, the amount of it that would only climb higher and higher, because in a sense, the loss of such emotions lead to a loss of a limit, driving him to insane lengths to achieve what he had his mind on.

He only knew death and bloodshed, the destruction of the mundane and corruption of the innocent, being the source of the rot and decay in the cells of a flower, to make it wilt and dust. Perhaps that’s where his interest in the normal stemmed, that curiosity that would someday bloom into obsession. He searched for an object of obsession, something - someone - to put all this attention on, something tangible, solid under his hands and malleable to his intentions. Despite his lack of time to dawdle, to spend on meaningless affairs, he found the perfect subject, someone so starkly different from him and his world.

There was a dichotomy in Makarov’s world, the harshness of war, battle and conquering of countries, and the deceptive softness in his eyes, the gentle touch of his scarred and calloused hands, and the coo with his sly tongue. You were the only softness in his life, a civilian he -one day - decided to pick up from the streets, bright-eyed and innocent to the horror he saw and spear-headed. Your tired eyes untouched by his mind and your scarless body free of any conflict that he could start with a simple wave of his hand.

There’s a need in his mind to see this innocence wilt away, to pry your mind of any autonomy and freedom you’ve lived with. Makarov wanted a doll, something soft and precious he could corrupt with words and ruin with his hands, deceptively gentle and loving, a poem spilling from a cruel smirk and eyes gleaming darkly. He has his ways to turn you into a thing of his imagination, to make you into his willing Russian doll, layer over layer of maliciousness and subservience.

He’s a man of culture, letting the people under him do all the dirty work. Despite all the viciousness and madness in his being, he doesn’t hit, he doesn’t abuse the object of his obsession, that was reserved for men lower than him, poor and mindless men. Rather, he preferred manipulation, well-thought words used in right situation to have you crawling back to him for safety, protection and comfort. He wanted you to come to him on your own, to make your pliant and uncaring of the wider view. He, after all, took you for himself, to endure himself in a second source of power.

Makarov has a silver tongue, whispering words into your ears that take root, your doubts and fears growing in the depth of your heart, bringing you closer to the man who promised to protect you. His fingers wiping away your tearful cheeks, pearly gems rolling down your cheek as he teases you about being worried. You shouldn’t be so fearful with him beside you, he’s your warden, your all-powerful and dependable lover.

He won’t let a shred of suspicion towards him fester, it’ll be dealt with swiftly with the call of your name, breaking down your vulnerable mind and building it back up in his image, his opinions were yours, his thoughts were yours, his goals were yours. So much so that you were his, knowing fundamentally that whatever he said goes.

”мой маленький цветок,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours, hands soft but wandering, laying down chains over your waist, around your dainty wrists and tightening the collar around your neck, keeping the hold on your mind, “You did so well, I’m proud of you.”

Positive reinforcement. He often used positive reinforcement to deepen his hold, to sink his teeth into your clean soul. Sweetened words with a voice he taught you to crave and possessive touches of bloody hands with intentions that he blinded you of, finding a way to make you want them.

“What do you say?” His hand traveled up your jaw, featherlight fingers cradling your ear and cheek until it stopped under your chin, tilting your head to look at his narrowed eyes, proud and dark.

“Thank you, Vladimir.”

He smiled, a thin-lipped grin.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #mw3 makarov #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #makarov #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #makarov x reader #makarov x you #vladimir makarov cod #vladimir makarov x you #dark fic #tw: manipulation #tw: abuse #dead dove do not eat

[celluloidbroomcloset]

"The atmosphere on this ship is fucked. Everyone knows why."

"I don't. Enlighten me."

"Your feelings for Stede—"

This scene has been picked over a lot, but this is the first time I noted the speed with which it happens, including how clearly Ed himself knows what Izzy will say, and has from the moment he walks on deck. It's the culmination of an emotional violence that has been there since the start of Season 1 and that focuses on how and where Ed is allowed to express his feelings.

It's Ed who decides to make the discussion public, and Ed who challenges Izzy to say, out loud, in front of the crew, exactly why Izzy thinks the atmosphere is fucked.

Ed's acting unhinged a moment before, but as soon as Izzy speaks, he's very present—because he's been pushing for this to happen. The tone of voice he uses when he says, "Enlighten me," is similar to the sarcasm in his voice back in "Discomfort," when he says, "Sounds stressful, Izzy." He's not daring Izzy to say it's about his feelings; he's waiting for him to.

Izzy barely even gets Stede's name out before Ed is nodding and pulling the trigger. It's not at all what Izzy later says—"He took my leg because I dared to mention your fucking name." The exact words are "your feelings for Stede."

In Season 1, Izzy has insisted that his words to Ed about Stede be spoken in private. He never discusses it with anyone in the crew. The only time other people are present for those discussions is when Izzy insists that Ed send Stede to "doggy heaven," and then Fang has an emotional breakdown (and for a good bit of Season 1, Izzy treats Ivan and Fang as an extension of himself). The crew know that Ed is in love with Stede, but Izzy does not speak about that in front of them. Izzy's verbal violence about Stede, and his attacks on Ed about Ed's feelings for Stede, are always out of sight and hearing of the crew.

But he does speak to Stede's enemies about it, and Ed knows it. Izzy has told Calico Jack that Ed is "shacking up" with Stede. Spanish Jackie also knows, and so do the English, because that's how and why Izzy sold Stede out. Ed is aware, from the moment that Jack uses the term "shacking up," that Izzy has been speaking publicly about Ed's relationship with Stede.

Ed himself does not talk about his romantic or sexual relationships. Other people do—Calico Jack, Anne and Mary, Izzy—but Ed is not public with that information, even saying that “our private lives are our private lives” (echoing Stede’s statement to Jack: “Ed’s past is Ed’s business and I respect that.”). The times when Ed makes his feelings toward Stede known, even implicitly, are private—the “fine things” scene, the kiss on the beach, even the stabbing scene, all are between Ed and Stede. No one else is meant to witness those. After Stede has left him, Ed’s grief and the reasons behind it are clear, but he still conceals it with a song “about someone else.”

Ed keeps his softer emotions hidden and private, or tries to, because he’s been conditioned to believe that they’re dangerous to have. And they are—Jack makes them the subject of derision, and Ed is explicitly threatened when he makes his love for Stede too publicly visible. Izzy invades his private spaces (his cabin, his personal space) to berate and expose his emotions, mockingly calling Stede Ed’s boyfriend. The discussion of emotions that Ed tries to keep private are always initiated by Izzy, and the discussions are always violent and derisive.

The crew themselves do not know what has led to Ed shooting Izzy. They haven’t seen the escalation of violence and violation, going from emotional violence to physical—and the initial toe-cutting scene is very much Ed invading Izzy’s safe space to enact violence on him, just as Izzy did to him. They haven’t been witness to the threats and the danger that Ed has increasingly experienced and that in part led him to putting on Kraken in the first place.

The shift that happens in “Impossible Birds” is Izzy once again invading Ed’s space, where he’s caressing and then concealing the groom figurine, to prompt the discussion of emotions. What Izzy thinks is a result of him speaking Stede's name and ethos is actually a result of him invoking, again, Ed's emotions about Stede as a way of manipulating him. But this time, Ed is going to make him do it in front of the crew.

It is, in a sense, an expansion of "the love that dare not speak its name.” If “everyone knows why,” then Izzy is going to have to say it. So the moment on deck is Ed forcing Izzy to publicly expose the things that have been concealed: Ed's private emotions that Izzy has broadcast to his enemies but never to his friends, and the violence that has been attached to those emotions. They're going to "talk it through," but Izzy has made talking it through violent and unsafe. Now what had been private violence is going to be public.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #edward teach #izzy hands #stede bonnet #gif #ofmd season 2 #tw: abuse #i keep thinking i'm done with this dynamic and then something else comes up #the violation BUILDS over two seasons #but to the crew it appears almost random #long post #i'm also really happy for any discussions or disagreements #as long as they're polite

[shallyouobeyme]

Map

Platonic!Yandere!Damian x reader (GN)

Summary: Damian and you have to work on a project together and he realizes how you seem to be invisible to everyone else - how you want to be invisible - and something in him makes him want, no need, to figure out why...

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Domestic abuse (not shown directly), planned kidnapping, Dark content, yandere, This is all fiction, I do not condone this

Day 4 of my Yandere Writetober, Tomorrow word is 'Golden' so if you have any ideas lemme know

People did not think Damian was sentimental, most of all his family. If a person had an idea of who Damian was, but wasn’t close to him or hasn’t personally met him then they could probably still assume that in private he might be a bit more emotional than in public. This person would be wrong though. Sure, in private Damian might be a little more open and showed a few more emotions, but most of those were rage, pettiness and sarcasm. Damian was a lot of things, but definitely not sentimental. At least not usual. And then you came into his life. 

From the moment he was born, Damian had a map of how exactly his life would be played out. Then he was brought to his family and the map changed. From wanting to become the next head of the League of Assassins, he now wanted to become the next Batman. He wanted to step up once his father needed to step down and take his rightful place as the head of the family. Alone.

Everyone and everything else that was a hindrance in that way - be it his age, school, villains, friends or even his own family - was just an obstacle on the map of his life. He thought you'd be just the same, a Problem to be taken care of and to leave behind. Just another annoying child in his class - which Bruce insisted he attend - that weren't fit for the reality of life he faced every single day. It was just typical that he had to be stuck with you working on a project for a class in which he had a grade to make up, because of too many absences. He didn't bother to question why you had to do the project, he just wanted to get it over with.

"I'll be doing the project - I doubt you could help anyways - and you can just put your name on it as well, then I don't have to bother with you," Damian sneered to you once class was disbanded, already more than done with you and with the situation. You seemed to turn into yourself and he recognized how shy and intimidated you were and if he had been just a tad more empathetic he'd feel bad. Damian rolled his eyes and turned to leave when your hand tugged on his uniform's blazer.

"Uhm... I-I'm sorry, but-but I'd really like to-to work on the project together, I-I really need this grade," you stuttered, your head lowered in shame, even though you had no real reason to be ashamed. Damian wanted to make a snide comment about how the project was definitely better off if he was doing it on his own, but something about how small and fragile you looked kept him from doing so.

That was the first detour from the life on his map. That moment of emotion that no one witnessed, not even you because of how your head was held down. And it was only the beginning. He scoffed at your request, but it wasn't truly malicious like before.

"Fine, but we'll do it at your place today after school, no discussion," Damian stated and left no room for arguments, turning around and leaving the room, not hearing your small sound of protest.

During the rest of the school day, Damian couldn't help but watch you from the corner of his eyes, he saw how you were hidden in your uniform, seemingly wanting to merge with the backdrop of the classroom, how you kept completely to yourself and seemingly managed to become completely invisible to anyone but him and some of your teachers.

So after school, he had to keep his eyes peeled open to see you come out since you really seemed to disappear between all the other students. He went over to you and told you to lead the way home, not bothering to offer to have Alfred drive the two of you since, for reasons he didn't understand himself, he wanted to spend the time with you alone. Detour number two.

The way to your home was spent in silence, Damian looking around sceptically and you turned into yourself like you always seemed to be. The route to your home took you out of the more or less safe and high-income neighbourhood of Gotham Academy to the less secure area not that different from the region around Crime Alley. He wondered how your parents were able to afford your tuition for Gotham Academy, but he knew that you were rather good in school so he figured you were on a scholarship.

When you finally arrived at a rundown apartment complex you brought him to a flat on the fifth story, carefully opening the door as if you were afraid of making any sound.

"I'm sorry if it's a bit messy," you mumbled vaguely in his direction as you carefully opened the door and Damian realized it was the first thing he had seen you say since you had asked him to let you work on the project as well. Then you lead him into the apartment and everything somewhat fell into place.

To say it was a bit messy was an understatement. There were empty bottles of beer, vodka, wine and all other kinds of alcoholic beverages, Damian even caught sight of some less legal substances, but he decided not to mention them aloud, already seeing based on the darkening colour of your face and the way you tried to avoid looking anywhere near him that you were highly ashamed and emberassed. Detour number three.

He saw how you looked through the open doors into the other - not cleaner - rooms and he could hear your relieved sigh when there was no one else in there with the two of you. Then you lead him into your room if one could call it a room, which had a size just barely big enough for a measly small bed, a box usually meant for laundry filled with your clothes and a small desk that looked like you had taken it from the side of the road. There was no chair or even a stool.

Damian noticed Jason's influence - much to his anger - when his first thought was that 'Harry Potter would feel bad for you'. His next thought was that you didn't deserve to live like that, that you deserved better. Detour number four brought him right off of the road like never before.

"Uhm... You-You can sit on the bed if that's okay, I'll-I'll sit on the floor, then we can work on the project," you spoke hesitantly and shuffled to sit on what little space was left on the floor, but was stopped when Damian pulled you to sit beside him on the bed.

"There's enough space here for both of us," he argued and turned to you. "But- uhm- we don't have any space for the project then."

You were right, he supposed, as he saw that both of you sitting on the bed were basically taking up all the mattress had to offer. He sighed and decided that he was already neck deep into whatever was happening so he might as well see where it was going.

"Then we won't do the project today," he stated in the same tone that left nothing up for discussion and you seemed almost relieved, "We can work on it tomorrow after school in the library."

"O-Okay, I'm sorry it's so-" You stopped in your tracks, seemingly on the verge of tears, and then gave it another go, "-I'm sorry you came here for nothing, I can lead you to the door."

"I'm not leaving yet," Damian said much to your surprise as he saw the shock displayed on your face, "first I want you to tell me what is going on here." He tried to tell himself that it was just his vigilante persona shining through, but deep inside he knew it was you that made him so curious about this situation.

"What do you mean?" you squeaked, obviously - but badly - trying to hide something. Damian let his instincts lead him as he quickly took your hand and pulled up your sleeve, he had been noticing how you were playing with it every time you were scared or ashamed. He wasn't all too surprised to see blue, purple, green and yellow splotches littered over the area, some bruises new, some old. You tried to pull your hand away, but Damian's grip stayed strong.

He pulled your hand even closer to him as he inspected the arm and asked: "Did your parents do that to you?" He looked up at your face and saw tears welling up in your eyes. It made you look even more fragile and delicate than he already thought you looked like throughout the day, but it also made this rage well up inside of Damian. How dare these people make you cry, how dare they hurt you. He wanted to rip them apart, wanted to make sure nothing and no one ever hurt you again.

"Tell me the truth, I will help you, I promise," Damian encouraged you and received a weak nod from you as your tears started to flow down your face in streaks. "Okay, give me a second, I'll be right back, don't worry." Damian used his blazer's sleeve to gently wipe away some of the tears - something that his family would believe to be a lie if you had told him about it - and got up to leave the room to call Alfred to come pick him and you up.

He told Alfred that he'd be inviting a friend for a sleepover, hanging up on a too-stunned-to-speak Alfred who was surely already on his way to inform Bruce of this new development, he didn't bother to tell him that he planned for it to be a more... permanent... sleepover.

You needed him, you needed him to protect you, to care for you, to make sure you never again had a reason to cry. You were such a pure, fragile soul, one that didn't deserve to be left alone in this cruel world, he was sure that once his father had met you he'd understand. He'd feel the same way. You'd be safe with them, they'd become your family, the family you deserved and needed.

And if Bruce didn't agree if Bruce told him that he was crazy, that he couldn't just take you away from your life, no matter how bad it was, and take over your entire existence... well, he had already become ready to derail his entire plan, had become ready to redraw the entire map of his life just for him to have you along, so he might as well return to his roots because he was sure his mother would be more than happy to take you in as long as it made Damian return...

#yandere #writetober #x reader #platonic #platonic yandere #tw: yandere #dc x reader #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian x reader #platonic robin x reader #robin #dc universe #platonic dc universe #platonic!yandere #dark!damian wayne #dark content #tw: abuse #yandere bruce wayne #yandere talia al ghul