#Tw: Implied Child Abuse

[symbioticsimplicity]

Of all the things he'd imagined doing over the weekend, being drug around the pound by an overly excited Maxine hadn’t been high on his list.

Sure, he'd told her his therapist had advised getting himself a dog, but he hadn’t expected that to translate into "We're going dog shopping right now." He supposes he should have seen it coming, but he was always kind of out of it after therapy.

The lady at the counter had given him the stink eye at first, but relented when Max had bopped up to her instead. Not that his sister had any better manners than he did (worse, he'd argue), but she was small and she was excited and it was hard to say no to those big green eyes.

Which was how he ended up being pulled around to every kennel at the shelter.

In truth, Billy had hardly been paying attention. He figured whatever dog they'd land on would be fine. He'd never had a dog but how different could it be from having a sister?

It wasn't until they passed a seemingly empty kennel that his attention was snagged.

"The card on the door says there's a dog in here." Max gestured to said card, containing a little information on the supposed dog, "Daisy, five years old, red nosed pitbull, recent rescue. Huh."

Billy peeked around her, first at the card, then at the seemingly empty kennel before a though occurred to him.

He dropped down into a crouch, a little too quickly for his knees, and checked under the little doggy cot set up in there. Sure enough, there was a little ball of short fur tucked away in the very corner.

She was almost as red as Max's hair, though there were patches missing. Billy had had more than enough cigarette burns to recognize them on sight. It made his stomach turn, the idea of someone using an animal as a punching bag like that.

"Daisy?" He called, keeping his voice as soft as he could, with limited success. Gentle was still new to him.

To his surprise, a head perked up. Just a little bit, just two floppy ears twitching towards the sound of her name. Both ears were notched, and one didn't sit at the same angle as the other one.

"Hey there, Daisy." He spoke again, "You picked the best hiding spot in the house."

The only one really, one Billy himself had tried a time or two before he realized hiding only made things worse.

To his surprise her tail thumped against the ground in an aborted wag. Like she was happy to be spoke to, but so nervous at the same time. He knew that feeling all too well too.

He sat himself down on the floor since crouching was making his legs go numb, making sure he did it slowly so as not to spook Daisy.

"It looks kinda small for you though." He continued, "But I guess that's kind of nice sometimes too."

Billy loved small spaces. No one ever expected him to be able to fit into them, so no one ever looked for him there. Plus the tightness almost felt like a hug. There had been plenty of times he slipped himself into a crawl space or an overfilled closet and just let himself daydream he was somewhere else.

Daisy's tail thumped again, twice this time, and Billy found himself smiling a little.

"Well," Max said, just as quietly as Billy was, "I think we found the right fit."

#stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #tw: implied child abuse #tw: animal injury #tw: animal abuse #i might write more on this i just love the idea

[cherrydreamer]

(A little thing based on the angst fuel that is the lock on the outside of Billy's door.)

--

Joyce Byers is pretty used to trusting her instincts. Used to knowing that, when something feels off, then it probably is, no matter what anyone else tries to tell her.

And this? This definitely feels off. Wrong. Unsettling.

On the surface, there's nothing odd about it at all; it's just Neil Hargrove and his son walking into Melvalds. And while Joyce has never particularly warmed to Max's brother- all too aware of what he did to Steve Harrington on that night- she's not really had anything to do with Mr. Hargrove, nothing beyond the first, stilted greeting when they moved into the neighbourhood, or the handful of times she's seen him in passing as she's been ferrying Will to and fro.

So there's absolutely no reason she should be feeling so uncomfortable at the mere sight of him.

But she is.

Because there's something about the way Neil Hargrove has his fingers gripped tightly around Billy's shoulder that just isn't sitting right with her. A feeling that grows even stronger when Neil marches over to Joyce and says,

"My son has a question,"

Billy looks awkward. Uncomfortable. He squirms in his father's grip, looking small and unsure in a way that Joyce has never seen before, "Dad, I don't need to-"

"Ask her." There's a hidden warning in Neil's voice, a steely firmness that has Joyce on edge.

And Billy must sense it too. He seems to shrink even more, curling in on himself, as he asks, "Do you, um, do you sell locks? Like, uh, like door locks?"

And it's not the strangest question Joyce has ever been asked in her years of working retail, nowhere near, so she does her best to shake off that prickly feeling of unease, the one creeping right up the back of her neck, and puts on her best customer service smile, "Why sure, honey, we have a couple of different types. What exactly is it for?"

"I-uh-" Billy stammers, and Neil speaks quickly.

"Bathroom," he explains, "Billy's got himself a little DIY project, don't you, son?"

Billy nods. But he's not looking at Joyce. His eyes seem far away, his mouth pressed into a tight line.

"Sure," Joyce says, the prickle starting to feel more like an itch she desperately needs to scratch, "We should have something suitable. Normally I'd send you right on over to Hank's Hardware but he's closed at the moment, some family emergency, probably won't be back for another week or so."

"Nothing more important than family," Neil's cold smile doesn't reach his eyes, and Joyce can see his fingers moving a little closer to Billy's neck, "Nothing at all. And this isn't a project that can wait. In fact, I'd say it's been a long time coming."

Joyce just nods, not quite sure what to say in response. Instead she points them over to the hardware aisle, forcing out a cheery, "Just let me know if you need any more help," that she doesn't mean, before retreating back to the safety of her register, taking a few gulps of coffee in an attempt to drown out the sour clench of nausea that's starting to take root in her stomach.

--

They reappear about ten minutes later. Billy silently places a shiny latch bolt down on the counter, and Joyce's Midwestern politeness takes over, forcing her to make small talk despite the fact that she'd much rather be whizzing through this whole interaction as quickly as possible; hell, she'd much rather be hiding in the backroom and letting someone else take over the whole thing, but that's not an option.

So small talk it is.

"Ooh, good choice," she forces another bright smile, "I got the same one for the bathroom at home. Had it for years and it's not broken yet."

Billy lets out a non-committal mumble, already pulling out his wallet before Joyce has even read out the total, seemingly as eager to get this all over with as she is, but then Neil seizes on the opportunity, leaning into her space and grinning that cruel, shark-like smile again, tapping at the bolt with his finger.

"So it's strong?" he asks, "Sturdy? Not some shitty foreign import that's going to break the first time it's used?"

"No, uh, no, it's…it's good," Joyce's fingers hover over the buttons of her register, "It lasts. I've got two teenage boys so, believe me, I know how important a good lock can be."

Neil chuckles at that, and it's a mean sound that turns Joyce's stomach. He taps the lock again, his already cold grin becoming chilling, "Oh yes, well, I think Billy's certainly going to know the importance of this one, aren't you, son?"

And if Joyce thought something felt off before? Well, that was nothing compared to the feeling she gets the moment she notices the flash of fear in Billy's eyes, and the way his fingers shake, fumbling with his change as he tries to tip it into his wallet.

---

Joyce is still thinking about it long after they've left, unable to shake the image of Neil's hand gripping Billy's shoulder, steering him out of the store, while Billy's fingers clenched, white knuckled, around the bolt in his hand. She keeps thinking about the way that Billy had looked, the expression on his face. Scared, but resigned. Broken.

Something's not right there, she thinks, Really not right.

Joyce Byers has got a pretty damn good record of getting to the bottom of all kinds of things that weren't right. And it's looking like she's just found herself another one to investigate.

#cherrywrites #billy hargrove #not harringrove #(well not YET...but hey. when Joyce gets to the bottom of this one she might need to borrow a certain someone's spiked bat) #(and steve's a protector at heart...) #and yes ihni I know I already bugged you with this and we kinda fixed it together with our supermom joyce headcanons #but i'm putting it out in the wild now! XD #joyce byers #tw: implied child abuse

[queermentaldisaster]

“There's a Revolution Coming”, part three of “The Devil Made Me Do It; But I Also Kinda Wanted To”.

First thing's first. If you read this on AO3, please, please, please pay attention to the tags. I will add sufficient warnings for each chapter here as well, but this is very much a Dead Dove fic. What you see is what you get. So please, proceed with caution when you see the tws/tags.

Tags: @forestshadow-wolf @axelaxolotl09 @im-here-and-im-confused @bringinsexybackk69 @rainerestored @8-rae-rae-8 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist please inform me)

(Possible) tw: Children in captivity, mental breakdown, mentions of torture and mind control, discrimination towards demons, and implied child abuse. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 1 under the cut.

The helo landed, and Mirror grabbed Soap's bound wrists and began dragging him towards the military base. Soap's eyes trailed upwards, and his eyes narrowed. With the amount of security around this place, it reminded him of a castle. He looked back down, taking a deep breath. ‘Och, poor Si…he's probably terrified right now and masking it with anger…’ he thought. His thoughts were on Ghost, even as Mirror dragged him through the base. Then, he looked up, and saw just how many demons were here. More than a thousand. The rest must've come from all over the world, then. ‘How many demons did Meister break?’ Soap thought, as his mind drifted back to a conversation Ghost and him had while he was still recovering.

“You know, Meister tortured us to make us weak to mind control.” Ghost murmured. Soap's head snapped up from his sketchbook. “Mind control?” He asked. Ghost nodded. “Affirmative.” He brought his hand up to his neck. “He’d collar us, then attack us. He saw us as nothing more than tools.” Ghost's wings tightened around himself. Soap's eyes softened and he touched Ghost's hand. “Yer so much more than a tool to me, Simon. Yer as alive as the rest of us.” he murmured. Ghost looked back at Soap and his eyes spoke volumes. “Thanks, Johnny.”

A tear rolled down Soap's cheek. God, he hoped Ghost was looking for him. He was scared.

Mirror dragged him into a room, shoving him in and locking the door behind him. Soap fell to the floor, and knelt there, his hands clenched into fists. He let the tears begin rolling down his cheeks, as he tried not to sob. He was in the lion's den and all alone. Too weak to fight against demons and vampires and…whatever Shepard was. God, he'd never wished for anything, not even to be a monster…but now, he was cursing his human heritage. ‘Ah’m useless. Cannae even save maself, much less love Simon how he wants.’ He bit his tongue. ‘Ah’m pathetic. Fought tooth ‘n nail ta get where ah was, and now ah'm here. In an empty room, captured, unable to save maself.’ A sob escaped from the gag, and the dam broke. He curled up, sobbing.

•✧-----------------------------------✧•

He didn't know how long had passed, and he didn't care. He'd managed to get the gag out at some point, and he was now staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles. “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six-” He was interrupted by the door flying open. Graves was standing there, his eyes narrowed. “Do you ever shut up!?” He snapped. Soap sat up, placing his bound wrists on his knees. “Ya ken, Graves, ye have a really bad track record with kidnapping. Twice in two months. Ghost isnae goin’ tae be happy with this.”

Graves's eyes narrowed. “I do not care what that beast thinks. He's nothing more than an animal, a tool to use as we see fit. He doesn't have feelings, he can't.” Soap's eyes narrowed. “...” He lunged at Graves, only to be tackled by one of the other demon guards. Graves's eyes narrowed. “Take him to the little room.” The demon nodded and dragged Soap off as Soap screamed his head off at Graves, in pure rage.

The demon threw Soap in another room, this one with three beds, and paper strewn around the room. He hit the ground roughly, and he let out a groan. He felt hands grab his binds and he almost struck the person…until he looked ahead…and saw a child with pale tannish skin, her right eye being a purple color, her left eye being a pink color, blonde hair, and tiny red horns. “Evelyn! He could be a threat!” came a voice. He turned his head and saw a girl, no older than fourteen, shielding a smaller boy. The girl had light grayish pinkish-purple hair, her right eye being orange and her left eye being a dark grayish magenta color. She had a burn scar by her right eye, and she had horns of a dull gold color that curved like a ram's. Soap looked around, spotting two other kids. His heart sank.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty mw2 #ghostsoap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #soapghost #original character #original characters #demons #tw: implied child abuse #tw: mentions of past torture #tw: discrimination #tw: degradation #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 author #dead dove do not eat #cod fic #my fic #call of duty fic #ao3 fanfic #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction

[mariamakeslemons]

I found I'm actually enjoying writing in @ghouljams fae!AU. Here's Lilac's first meeting with Price, Keegan, and the Changeling/Ainsley.

Lilac stares in terror at the man, fae, standing in her mentor’s garden. He smiles at her and she chokes, shaking as he takes a purposeful step toward her.

“Calm down, little witch,” he chuckles, dropping his heavy hand on her head, “I don’t eat children.” Lilac squeaks at his rough pats before watching with wide eyes as he walks past her, into Miss Witch’s house.

“Price! Stop scaring Lilac!” Miss Witch scolds, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. The fae, Price, chuckles and strides up to Miss Witch. Suddenly, Lilac sprints to stand between them, her arms outstretched in an attempt to block him from hurting Miss Witch.

“Y-you can’t h-hurt h-her!” She yells, fighting to keep her fear off her face as she stares up at his blue eyes. Price raises an eyebrow at Lilac’s declaration, tilting his head curiously.

“Oh? Are you going to stop me?” he asks, not mocking, but curious. Lilac freezes, unsure of the correct answer when Miss Witch huffs behind her.

“Price,” she intones. The fae raises his hands in surrender, chuckling as he once again steps around Lilac. The girl spins, terrified for her mentor. She knows Miss Witch is heavily warded, that’s just what generational magic does, but Price feels strong. Maybe even stronger than Miss Witch, although magic does what it does, so she might be stronger?

“Lilac,” Miss Witch calls, pulling Lilac from her panicked thoughts. She’s sitting on the bench while Price still stands, looking over his shoulder in amusement, “Go put the herbs back for me please. Then, you can copy down more of those minor spells.” Lilac hesitates, but ultimately, she nods and scurries back into the house, glancing over her shoulder worriedly to the garden.

Cleaning up the herbs takes a minute of squinting at Miss Witch’s handwriting and comparing it to the notes she’s made on the spare notebook Lilac brought. It takes almost ten minutes, but she’s confident at her accuracy. Another forty minutes is taken up by carefully writing out the most basic of spells in various colored pens. Miss Witch mentioned one of her accomplices likes using multiple colors for notes and wanted to see if it would help Lilac concentrate. It worked and now, her grimoire is currently being cleansed of all the black ink that barely meant anything, and they’re waiting for a proper quill and ink set that will copy the multi-colored system that helps Lilac keep her thoughts in order. Beaming at her steady progress, Lilac stands up from her seat and scurries over to the door to the garden, opening her mouth to ask Miss Witch to look over her work, only to stop.

Price is laying on the bench, his head in Miss Witch’s lap, and a soft look on his face as he stares up at her. Miss Witch is humming a song Lilac swears she knows, her fingers combing through the fae’s hair softly, her expression just as soft.

“Y’know, Soap’ll pout when I tell ‘im how nice you are t’ the little witch. Especially when y’re so mean t’ ‘im,” the fae rumbles. Miss Witch scoffs, going so far to tap his nose as they smile at each other.

“Soap’s a grown fae, Lilac is a child. They are completely different, and you know that,” Miss Witch reminds him with a smile, teasing. Price chuckles, his eyes fluttering closed when Miss Witch bends down enough to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Doesn’t mean ‘e won’t bitch,” the fae reiterates before silence surrounds the couple once again. Lilac can’t help but stare, awe and confusion mixing together.

Witches and fae don’t mix, one of the biggest rules Granny beat into Racheal. No witch worth their salt would ever allow a fae into their home, their sanctuary, willingly. But, here they are, Miss Witch completely at ease while Price does nothing more than tease her. No threats of violence, no attempts at violence. It’s a strange thing to witness, after being told and shown reasons that they can’t interact.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the front door startles Lilac from her staring. She slowly turns to the door, blinking in confusion. She’s been here for a few days already, but Miss Witch always knows when customers are coming. Lilac’s never heard a knock at the door and she doesn’t know what to do. Another knock sounds out, low on the door but insistent. Suddenly, Miss Witch strides past Lilac, a fond smile and shake of her head while Price follows with a frown.

“Hello there,” Miss Witch says upon opening the door, “You really need to stop doing this, sweetie. Your mom is going to be worried.”

“And Russ’s gonna be a pain in the ass,” Price grumbles beside Lilac.

“Russ?” she asks, only to jump and squeak when a little changeling wraps their arms around her legs, looking up at her curiously.

“Who?” the little one asks, their voice taking on Miss Witch’s and Price’s and maybe a few other people. Lilac blinks, before slowly raising her head. Miss Witch winces at the sound of so many voices at once, but she smiles.

“She’s my trainee,” Miss Witch explains patiently, “Her name is Lilac.” The changeling hums and chitters like a chipmunk, a smile crossing their face that make’s their cheeks appear chubbier. Lilac smiles back nervously, only for her nerves to be soothed when the child lets go of her legs to grab her hand. They ramble about decay and how it affects objects differently, from leaves turning from green to black, and a squirrel’s body caved in on itself before some birds got to it. It’s interesting, how passionate the kid is about their topic.

“D-do you want t’ read a b-book?” Lilac asks, smiling when the child looks up at her excitedly. They nod and point at a book Miss Witch had told Lilac was about a dog’s life. Taking the book gently from the shelf, Lilac sits on the ground and jolts in surprise as the child climbs into her lap, forcing her to wrap her arms around the kid and rest her chin on their head to read.

They get through two chapters when a man appears with a dog. Lilac looks up and tightens her hold on the changeling fearfully. He’s a tall fae, one that makes promises and demands rewards. One that can stack any deal in his favor.

“I’d appreciate if you’d let my kid go,” he drawls, the German Shepard beside him giving Lilac a warning growl. Swallowing and shying back, she glances down at the changeling worriedly, unsure as to the older fae’s plan for the little one. The fae’s face shifts, from a fake neutral expression to something softer, almost like comfort.

“I’m not gonna hurt him. I need to take him back to his momma,” the fae explains. The changeling on Lilac’s lap beams up at her and nods. Lilac swallows again, before nodding and releasing her hold. The changeling scrambles over to the man, giggling happily as they’re scooped up.

“Alright, you monster,” the fae teases, “Say bye to your new friend.”

“Bye-bye!” the changeling chirps, birdsong weaving through their voice. Lilac relaxes a bit and waves in return, watching as the fae says something to Miss Witch, only for her to scowl at him and Price to narrow his eyes. Quickly, he, his dog, and the changeling leave the cottage, as if this is a normal occasion.

“Is th-this normal?” Lilac asks.

“About every other week,” Miss Witch sighs, rubbing at her temples, “Keegan is a pain, but he’s fairly harmless. Especially around his kid. Just be careful if you see him on the street without his kid or partner.”

“You have trouble with him?” Price asks her, his head snapping to look at her in concern and an almost righteous fury. Miss Witch waves it away.

“No, more like he enjoys getting a rise out of people,” she explains with a sigh. Lilac swears she hears Price mutter about sounding right, but she’s more concerned with her teacher’s frown.

“U-um,” Lilac stutters, “D-do you want t-to have your t-tea out in th-the garden? I-I-I can make it!” Miss Witch blinks at the offer before smiling, patting Lilac’s head.

“Yes, please,” she agrees, turning to her garden and heading out. Lilac feels warm from Miss Witch’s kindness, unable to help but touch where the woman’s hand had patted.

“You’re a pretty good kid,” Price says, startling Lilac from enjoying her warmth. Looking up, a sudden chill runs down her spine at the cold blue that stares down at her. He leans close and warns with smoke curling from his maw, “Don’t do anything too stupid. You hurt her, you can disappear. Clear?” Lilac nods, mute in terror as examples of her ‘disappearance’ form from his smoke. He leans back and suddenly, he’s Price, the strange fae who likes Miss Witch again. He pats her shoulder and saunters out to the garden.

Lilac fixes up the tea and pours out a mug of wine that Miss Witch does every time she goes into the garden, her mind spinning at the whiplash of this past few hours. Especially Price’s threat. Did she do something to upset him? Did she seem like a threat? Carrying the drinks out, Lilac notices that Price is now on the other side of the gate, almost pouting as Miss Witch scowls at him.

“U-um,” she starts, only to tense when Miss Witch snatches up the mug of wine and slams it on the wall.

“Finish that, then on your way,” she snaps.

“I only did that for your protection,” he says, like a reminder or an explanation.

“Just because it was in good intentions doesn’t excuse you for basically threatening my trainee!” she snaps. Price huffs and takes a long drink from his mug, averting his eyes. Miss Witch sighs and turns to a confused Lilac.

“Sorry about the overprotective idiot,” Miss Witch apologizes.

“O-oh, no! I-i-it’s okay!” Lilac tries to assure her, “I m-must’ve done something wrong! I-I can’t do m-m-much right, s-so it’s fine.” Miss Witch gets that pinched look on her face, the same look she gets when Lilac mentions things Granny yelled at her. From the corner of her eye, Price grimaces, putting down his mug.

“No, little witch. Keegan just riled me up and you were an easy target,” Price explains with a sigh, setting his mug down. Lilac blinks at that declaration while Miss Witch sighs. The woman gently scolds the fae while Lilac mulls his words over. Is she an easy target? She’s never been told that, so she’s not sure. Maybe it’s something that will make sense when she’s older.

#my work #captain john price #Witch #keegan p russ #Ainsley the Changeling #Racheal Lilac #Price x Witch #Riley the Dog #TW: implied child abuse #It's in the past but still

[hayatheauthor]

I am not the girl I used to be

But you are not the man you were before you laid your hands on me either

And in some twisted way, that comforts me

#Poetry #dark poem #dark poetry #tw: sa mention #tw: implied sa #tw: implied child abuse #child abuse #childhood trauma #grooming #tw: grooming #this isn't about a certain event in my life!!! It is just related to an emotion I think most girls feel when they suffer from abuse #haya: writes #poetry #poems on tumblr #spilled poetry #ten word poem #depressing poem #sad poem

[asksavel]

"A few years later, Omni visited. After that... Kyu dedicated himself to trying to feel. He explored the world, and he found many things."

"There was a child he found once being hurt by her parents. He destroyed them utterly. That day, the hatred gauge filled for the first time, as did fear, for instance. It's how he got such a fearsome reputation."

"Over time, the rest of his emotions slowly flowed back... but he lost hope about 2000 years ago, after he became friends with Ky and Don."

"... but that is not a story for me to tell."

@askcapital

#askcapital #taiji #kyurem #asksavel #tw: implied child abuse #tw: mentioned child abuse #(( Check the Alt Text ovo ))

[cavinginhisfvce]

'The Fated"

Pairing: Harringrove. Soulmate!AU.

Tw: implied child abuse. brief violence.

Soulmate!AU where the first time a pair of soulmates experience prolonged touch, they're given all the memories of their past lives with one another, if they have any. 

It's almost a myth for soulmates to meet repeatedly in different lives, but if two souls truly belong together, they will meet again. 

Destiny makes sure of it. They call them The Fated.

Billy, who meets Steve and has no idea the older boy is his soulmate until Steve's beneath him, bloody, and gasping, his frame thrashing with futile attempts of hoisting the blond off of him. 

Steve is the first one to experience the cold that overtakes you, his body going stiff as flashes of distorted images dance in his mind.

Billy has his arms wrapped tightly around Steve's waist, a wide smile on his lips as the brunet tries half-heartedly to shove him away, murmurs of dinner being almost done ringing like bells in his ears.

None of the kids seem to notice that the lack of movement on Steve's end isn't a result of Billy's fists, until Billy is also just as frozen, his eyes widening.

Everyone knows the signs of two Fated soulmates meeting for the first time, legend says both become almost like statutes, the only indication of life being their rising and falling chests. 

Teachers scold young students who gossip about it in the halls, all of them wondering if they'll be one of the lucky ones. Someone who has found their soulmate over, and over, no matter what life has thrown at them.

Steve has his arm held above his head, a piece of paper dangling between his fingertips as Billy reaches for it. She's on her tippy toes, pouting when the mystery sheet strays further from her grasp. "Asshole! Give me my damn essay back. I have to turn it in!"

Steve just laughs loudly, finally lowering his hand, as well as his head. "Gimme a kiss and I'll think about it, Dolly."

In the assortment of memories, neither of them look as they do currently, especially in the last memory, but it's obvious who they are. 

It's obvious even when Billy is almost a foot shorter than him, and in place of a flat chest is a set of impressive boobs.

They can tell who was who, they can feel the love each had for the other. It's somehow foreign and familiar. 

Billy, despite going under last, is first to break out of the trance, his hands shaking as he scrambles to move from his place on Steve's lap. His eyes are no less wide as he scans the boy for any serious injuries. He lets out a soft sigh when he finds nothing aside from the minor blossoming of bruises and blood trickling from his nose.

He's glad the plate he grabbed early on had slipped from his hand, and shattered at their feet instead of over his soulmate's head.

Once Steve has come to, he searches the room almost frantically with his eyes. Brown eyes find blues, and all Steve can do is stare. 

The room is silent, the air thick as all the kids wait with bated breaths for whatever was set to happen next.

Billy is wholly unprepared for Steve to stand up on shaky legs, and stalk over to him, a flash of determination on his features. His body wants to be afraid, wants to be on guard. But his heart? It has other plans, it stays rooted in its place, even when Steve is cupping his cheeks and leaning in.

He doesn't kiss Billy, much to the blond's displeasure, instead he whispers softly, "My Dolly…"

The younger just barely bites back the smile tugging on his lips, a soft scoff leaving him, "Asshole. That assignment was late because of you."

Steve for his part, laughs out loud. It's a warm, saccharine sound that has Billy's insides turning to goo. He wants to hear it everyday, every second.

Someone clears their throat and walks up to the pair. Without turning his head, Billy knows it's Max. Which serves to do nothing but remind him of why he was there in the first place. 

It's what has him stepping away from Steve, his eyes snapping to the redhead.

"We're leaving. Now, Maxine." 

The younger girl just glares up at her brother, her eyes alight with defiance. "I'm not leaving until I know my friends are safe!"

A laugh bubbles from Billy, but it isn't filled with humor, it's dark, chilling. 

"Max…" He says her name in a sing-song way, the same way he had the day he told Max he wouldn't hesitate to run her new friend group down.

She hadn't believed him, not even when he revved the engine. He didn't go further than that, as expected. 

She tenses up, her lips set in a frown. 

"Billy, please. I know I shouldn't have snuck out...but, I had to be here! They needed me…" 

The girl isn't sure if her brother is even listening to her, he isn't the most rational person on a good day. And if the bruising eye he sported on his way in early is any indication, today is not a good day.

She watches as he tears his gaze from her, his piercing blue eyes landing on Steve. 

"Harrington, I swear to God, if anyone touched Max, I'll kill you myself…" His words are punctuated with a growl, the meaning behind them unsaid, but they ring clear in Steve's ears. 

He immediately squares his shoulders, shaking his head. "It's not like that, Billy. It'll never be like that, I swear." He trails off, noting the way Billy deflates only slightly.

"Then what the fuck is going on?"

Steve can hear the rest of the kids yelling in the background, telling him to shut up, to not say a word. But, all Steve can hear is the treble in Billy's voice when he spoke, all he can see is the haunted look in the ocean blue eyes. A look Steve may not know firsthand, but has seen in enough jaded, hurt people to identify as fear. The fear of whatever happened to them, happening to the person they're supposed to protect and look out for. 

It's that look alone, that has Steve grabbing Billy's hand and tugging him to the Byers' freezer. He can see the look of confusion on his soulmate's face, but it quickly washes away when the taller boy tugs the door open; leaving the corpse of a monster only featured in a horror film's worst nightmare in full view.

There's a ringing in his ears, but it goes ignored when Steve starts recounting the events of the night. He tells him of their past dealing with creatures like this, he tells him about Will. 

By the end, Steve is winded and Billy is gripping his hand so tightly, the brunet could feel the blood rushing to his fingertips, but he didn't let go, because Billy didn't let go.

It takes some convincing, but Steve eventually gets the kids to give them privacy, even if it meant promising they'd go to the tunnels, despite his earlier refusals.

When the kitchen is cleared, Billy all but flings himself into Steve's arms, his breathing pinched as he curls his fingers into the fabric of the taller boy's jacket.

He's not hyperventilating, which is good. But he's also shaking in Steve's hold. Steve can feel the wet heat of tears seeping into his shirt, but he doesn't lessen his hold. If anything it gets tighter.

Steve gets the overwhelming urge to cry after finding out about the Upside Down, he knows what it feels like to choke on the debilitating fear that comes with so much as imaging one of those things alive and gunning for you.

Obviously, he's had the displeasure of experiencing said fear in real time, but he understood the blond's reaction. 

It took a few minutes, but Billy eventually calmed down enough to speak, his words were watery, but his eyes held a determination that Steve couldn't shake if he tried, "you said something about sentient tunnels?"

Again, Steve laughs, his body shaking against Billy's frame as the smaller boy smirks up at him. 

"Glad to have you back, Little Lion."

There's a faint blush that dusts tanned skin, but he's quickly shaking his head, a huff spilling from his lips.

"Shut it, Pretty Boy."

"Make me."

Their eyes meet, and Billy can't do anything more but lean in, and press his lips to Steve's. There's almost a current of electricity, followed by a blanket of content, and wholeness. The feeling of two soulmates reconnecting.

It's the reuniting of a pair that lost each other, only to find their way back. 

#billy hargrove #billy antis dni #billy hargrove deserved better #billy hargrove protection squad #harringrove #steve harrington #hargrove mayfield siblings #tw: implied child abuse #harringrove drabble #harringrove soulmate au #soulmates #soulmate!au #fated #the fated #i made this up #i wrote this earlier this month and just finished it #but i should be sleep bc i have an early class lmao #harringrove is better than sleep ig #billy x steve #billy and max have a complicated relationship but they're working on ir #it* #the upside down #the party in the bg #tw neil hargrove #just mentioned #billy is working on his anger #its a battle #but hes trying

[garden-of-gay]

You're On Your Own Kid, Part 2

Part 1

So....remember how I said you guys would get comfort, well…..you do, y’all just get more hurt first. I’m sorry, I promise it is coming but a lot of things need to happen first so for now we get sad Steve. 

TW: Some use of homophobic slurs (it’s only once but I figure I still let y’all know)

TW: Implied child abuse (because you know, Steve’s parents suck)

Great Escape

It took quite a while for Steve to calm down and when he did, that is when the embarrassment came flooding in.

“Eds I’m so sorry, I-” Steve was abruptly cut off by Eddie’s voice.

“Sweetheart, why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He was using a tone that made Steve want to cry all over again, it was so soft and caring, in a way that he didn’t know how to process. 

“I– I, I’m not supposed to cry so…so I’m sorry” Steve said softly, but the moment it left his mouth he felt stupid.

“Stevie, who told you that you can’t cry” Eddie was baffled at how such a seemingly strong boy could help others when they stumbled but not offer himself the same courtesy. He also knew that the ones who had told him this had been his parents but still wanted to give Steve the chance to tell him on his own terms. 

“Darling, please, who told you this?” He said it one again, so kindly that Steve couldn’t understand why he was being so sweet to him.

“Why are you being so kind to me? Shouldn’t you be upset with me” Steve asked, fighting back tears once again.

“Babydoll, why would I not be? You deserve all the kindness in the world from me, darling” Eddie waited a moment listening before Steve began to softly speak and with a sadness in his voice that only sent another wave of sadness through Eddie’s already broken heart. 

“Well its just, my parents especially my dad said he can’t deal with criers and no son of his was going to be a sissy, faggot” 

Steve could remember the way his father would yell at him for the tears that would fall down his face as a child; could still envision the rage that would plague his face. Overtime, he learned to stifle his tears until he was alone, to avoid the wrath of his fathers words and fist. Even now knowing his parents weren’t home, because they never were, he would still hide in his closet to cry. 

Eddie began to speak breaking Steve from his thoughts

“I– I’m so sorry Stevie, you never deserved that, still don’t deserve that” He said with his voice breaking. 

“It’s okay, Eds I’m okay, promise” Steve said to not only Eddie but also to himself hoping that if he said it aloud he could make it true” 

Eddie knew it was a lie but decided not to push.

“Hey Eds, I'm tired, I'm going to turn in for the night”

“Yeah.... okay"

"hey, you know I see a great escape for you, I see you running away from the pain they caused you and never looking back. If anyone could do it it’s you” Steve loved the way Eddie had said it, it made it feel so real, that maybe he really could.

“Thanks, so long Daisy May” Steve joked

“Daisy May!? Who the hell is Daisy May?” Eddie asked incredulously

Steve chuckled before answering

“She’s a character that my grandma loved, she’s from a comic I think, I don’t know.” 

Although Steve was tired, he proceeded to speak with Eddie for another hour before finally falling asleep, causing Eddie to eventually hang up.

-

A couple days later he found himself talking to Robin about his conversation, leaving out the part where he cried over the phone; even though he knew that Robin wouldn’t judge him.

“And then we talked for like 4 hours, I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun talking to someone Rob! He’s just so ... .He is just so wonderful.” He said with a certain warmth inside 

“ Aughhh, just ask him out already, Dingus!! He likes you, and listen I love you but if I have to go another shift hearing you wax poetry about Eddie I might just have to hit you” Robin huffed before Steve said something that left her holding back laughter. 

“Okay, listen I thought about but then I found a flower and did the stupid petal picking things that people do and like I got he loves me not which destroyed the thought on the spot” 

“Steve, you’re going to trust a flower over your PLATONIC SOULMATE!!! I can’t believe this” she chuckled. They fought for a bit before getting back to work and finishing their shift off.

-

Steve had gotten home and had two hours to kill before he had to pick up Dustin and then go to Eddie’s for their movie night. He couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation he had last night with the older boy and found himself sitting in his room writing. Steve liked to write, he knew he wasn’t the best at it and had only shown Robin any of his writing but he liked to do it nonetheless. He took out his notebook and began to write, he did something he hadn’t done in a while, he began to write a song. He wasn’t as good as Eddie when it came to music but soon enough two hours had passed and he had made a pretty decent song and would have worked on it more if he had not seen the time and realized he needed to pick up Dustin.

"OH SHIT"

On the drive over he felt the bloom within him that always came from writing and was thinking about whether he should write in his room more often. 

-

He arrived at Dustin’s 15 minutes later to find him already outside.

“Hey Dusty-” Steve began, as Dustin climbed into his front seat he began to rant

“You’re 5 minutes late Steve and now I’m going to be late. Dude, what could you have been doing that made you late!”

“Listen here, shithead, I was busy and lost track of time okay!? Be grateful that I’m even driving your ass” Steve retorted

“Thank you” Dustin grumbled

“Good, now put your seatbelt on” 

“Okay mom” Dustin mumbled under his breath

“What was that? Steve asked

“Hmm nothing” Dustin replied refusing to look at Steve

“That’s what I thought” He said before putting the car in drive and beginning the short drive to the Wheeler’s house

-

After dropping Dustin off and saying hello to all the other brats, Steve found himself on his way to Eddie’s singing along to the songs on the radio. 5 minutes later he parked his Beemer in front of the Munsons government appointed trailer. It was bigger than their previous trailer however it was still much the same. He knocked on the door and heard Eddie moving around inside.

“Hey there Steve, glad you could make it”

“I know, sorry I’m late, I picked up Dustin a little late and then the brats proceeded to greet and mess with me before letting me leave”

“Ehh, don’t worry about it, I’m just teasing you, come in”

Eddie led him into the trailer and got comfortable on the couch before Steve followed suit. He made sure to put a respectable distance between himself and Eddie not wanting to sit too close to him and be weird.

“So... what are we watching?” Steve asked, Eddie chuckled

“Oh just you wait and see big boy”

He then pressed play on the movie and soon rolled the title screen that read Nightmare on Elm Street

“Come on Eds, HORROR!!” Steve exclaimed

“What's wrong Stevie you get scared easily?” He said teasingly

“No, I’ve just seen and experience enough horror in my life to want to watch movies about it” 

“Fair point, but that's what fun, it’s nothing like the real horrors we have seen. Plus if you do get scared you can just hold my hand” Eddie teased.

Steve hoped that he couldn’t see the blush appearing across his face in the dark of the trailer. 

“You wish Munson” Steve replied, teasingly

They watched the beginning portion of the movie, chatting here and there before Eddie had gotten up and went to the fridge. He called out to Steve.

“Do you want a beer, Steve?”

“Sure I’ll take one” Steve hoped that the alcohol would take the edge off and allow him to relax around Eddie because he felt like he wanted to explode everytime Eddie leaned into his space to say something. 

Eddie returned a moment later and handed a beer to Steve

“Thanks man”

“No problem”

Steve had noticed that when Eddie had sat back down he sat closer to Steve causing their thighs to touch, whether Eddie noticed or not Steve wasn’t going to complain. 

Eventually Steve found himself completely pressed to Eddie’s side, enjoying the warmth the the other brought; he hadn’t noticed Eddie’s hand on his shoulder until he began to trace hypnotizing patterns with his thumb. He quickly found himself unable to focus on the movie and only the way Eddie’s thumb would dip ever so slightly under the collar of his shirt grazing the skin underneath. The movie came to a close and Steve would not be able to recall the entire latter half of the movie. 

“So, what did you think?” Eddie asked

“Hmm? Oh it was good, kind freaky, reminds me a little bit to much of something we fought though” He replied

Eddie sighed “Well, it is not for everyone, especially those who have fought interdimensional monster several times”

Steve chuckled “I guess so?”

“Do you wanna hang for a bit longer?” Eddie asked sheepishly

Steve took a moment to silently celebrate in his mind before replying 

“Yeah, that sounds nice”

-

They went to Eddie’s room and were goofing off, talking, and overall being stupid. Steve particularly laughed when he found out that Eddie used to play concerts in parking lots before they ever booked an actual gig.

“No, no you don’t understand, haha, we seriously used to do that and one time Hopper busted us setting up and we all had to haul ass back to the van and lug all of our equipment back as fast as we could” Eddie chuckled

Steve loved the sound of Eddie’s laugh; it was like he lit up everything around him with his laughter making the world glow bright. Steve let it fill his mind and he decided to catalog that amongst the summer sprinkler splashed and warm Christmas fireplace ashes he told Eddie about.

“And, haha, and he pulled up to the van and asked us what we were doing at 10 o’clock at night on a Thursday and the only thing Gareth could think of was to shout that we were camping…in the van. Hopper just told us to scram and that he would let us off with a warning. It was the only time we have been saved by Gareth’s absurd answers under pressure” He recalled, laughing throughout the story causing Steve to laugh with him. 

They joked for a bit before Steve spoke up 

“Hey, Ed’s, thanks for last night I really needed it”

“I already told you it's no problem.” He replied

“I- I know but it still means a lot to me” It was gentle and sincere and the emotion seeped into his voice and for once he allowed it; Eddie gave him the chance to let his guard down.

“Anytime, Anytime” He lightly chuckled with a small smile.

“Did you know that once my parents had ordered me a taxi to a party they were at because they forgot to bring me along when they left” Steve laughed but he could hear the sadness in his voice

“Yeah, yeah, they remembered I existed and thought they needed to show me off so they sent a car to get me. I was I think 7, but hey I guess they thought that a 7 year old was old enough to get into a strangers car by themselves” He released a wet laugh and felt the tears beginning to flow. 

“Hell, once I got there. I searched the party, full of better parents than mine, because HEY at least they remembered their kids right!?” The tears were coming down hard, blurring his vision. It was at this point he felt a strong embrace as Eddie pulled him into his chest and held him. 

“They wanted to show me off and once another parent asked what I wanted to be I said a musician, my dad laughed it off and said that all kids wanted to be something crazy like that and it wasn’t rare.” He hiccupped and choked through sobs.

“That was the first time my parents had left me alone to go on a trip. My father told me you're on your own kid, don't do something stupid, we will be back in a week, see you then. The funny thing is they weren't back in a week because they had called to let me know they had other stuff to take care of and that they would send money. I felt so alone, I was so alone just as I always have been.”

Even now he still felt that horrible pang in his chest and remembers the pain he felt watching his mom close the door only telling him “goodbye Steven” before she too left him. He had long decided against stopping his tears. He was with Eddie, he was safe, he could cry, he didn’t need to hide not with him; not anymore. 

Eddie had stayed silent while Steve talked, just holding him and gently stroking his hair. Steve had fallen silent after a while and was currently just heaving heavy sobs in Eddie’s lap while Eddie whispered to him.

“I know darling, I know, you didn’t deserve that. I won’t let them ever do that to you again, I promise. I got you, I got you. Let it out doll”

Eddie found that even with his red splotchy tear streaked face, Steve was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and would do anything for him.

-

After a while Steve had relaxed a bit and spoke up 

“You know I gave my blood, sweat and tears for this; this life that they wanted me to have and yet they aren’t even here to see what I gave up for them. What I sacrificed to try and be a person they could be proud of. I gave everything for them and they could care less about it.”

Eddie had kept most of his thoughts to himself but could not help saying something.

“I’m proud of you Stevie, I’m proud of the person you are. You are kind and protective, and caring, and, and so loving to everyone. You will put yourself in harm's way if it means someone else is safe. You care so much about the kids and will watch and protect them no matter how annoying they may get. You are one of the most wonderful people I have ever met and my world is better now that I know you, the real you……Steve middle name Harrington, I am so proud of you because you try, no matter what. You’re parents were never deserving of you and the missed out on the greatest opportunity of their life to know you and I feel sorry for them because they are missing out on a pretty great thing”

Tears welled in Steve's eyes and he clung to Eddie as violent sobs rocked his body. He had waited so long to hear those words and hearing it from someone he loved, was in love with. It rocked him in a way he hadn’t seen coming. As he cried he felt Eddie hug him tighter. He felt safe, loved….. tired. So he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift knowing that Eddie would be there to catch him and ground him again. 

Part 3

Okay, so I did a mini deep dive into Daisy May and learned she was a character from the Lil’ Abner comic series from the 40’s and 50’s and was hopelessly in love with Lil’ Abner. Listen if that isn’t Eddie I don’t know what is. What’s the point of this? idk however, I found it interesting. Also so much of Eddie's speech is something I wish someone had told me and I legit had to stop writing because it had gotten to me. So much of how I write Steve and Eddie's dynamic is based on personal experience and things I wish I could have so I'm sorry if this is sad as hell. I'm using this as a way of putting positivity into the world not only for myself but for others. Anyways my little rant is over,there is one more part left where we get some good comfort and tender love for my boys.

Tag List:

@swimmingbirdrunningrock

@barking-at-the-m00n

@acasualcrossfade

#steddie #platonic stobin #tw: implied child abuse #tw: homophobia #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #hurt/comfort #steve has bad parents #stranger things #bi steve harrington #gay eddie munson #Taylor Swift Steddie #fanfic #my fic #gardenwrites

[giggly-squiggily]

*crashes into your inbox* i wanted to go to bed but then i saw the notif for the post and i have priorities so i'm here now hello :D

and uh yeah it's a teeny bit angsty :) whoopsie :)

teenagers matchablossom yey! kaoru has really awful parents (don't listen to him, super strict, verbally abusive, sometimes their hands "slip" etc) and after kojiro finds out he makes sure that kaoru gets showered in affection whenever he comes over

does kaoru love it? yes absolutely. can he handle it? no absolutely not.

as always feel free to decline if it doesn't speak to you and i'll probably come back with more hcs tomorrow after i get some sleep jesus christ i'm so tired bye ily ♡

REY THIS IS INCREDIBLE! *sobs* Ah, how I love some good ol' angst in the evening! I've gotcha covered :3 (and please do! Sleep is important ily too!)

CW: angst, implied child abuse, swearing

Kojiro didn’t bother asking why Karou was standing at his door in the pouring rain at 1 am, he just held the door open and let the other in. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

His boyfriend couldn’t look at him, his long pink hair drenched and hiding his face. Even so, Kojiro could hear the faint sniffles and see the shakiness of his frame. Once the door shut, he fell against his chest, clutching onto him for dear life.

“I don’t…I don’t want to go back.” He whispered, voice scared and low. Kojiro cradled him in his arms, burying his face against his soaked crown.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with me.” He kissed him again and again, rocking him gently in his arms as tears leaked down Karou’s face, quaking with sobs. “I’m here. I’ve got you…”

Time passed, tears fell, and silent promises to help were made as Karou pulled himself back, wiping at his face. His eyes were so red, and his cheek…

Oh god his cheek…

“The shower is set up- and yes I have your hair stuff there.” Kojiro kept his voice cheery as he inched towards the freezer, going to get ice. “Get cleaned up and we’ll watch a movie, okay?”

Karou barely nodded, slowly making his way to the bath. Once gone, the green haired teen pressed his face against the freezer door, tears of frustration leaking down his face.

I’ll kill them. How dare they- How fucking dare they-

Then he breathed, looking up at the ceiling. No. There were better ways to handle it. He pulled out his phone, shooting a few quick text messages

When Karou came back, hair wet and dressed in Kojiro’s oversized sweats, he found his boyfriend on the couch, smiling softly. “Come here. I saved food from earlier if you're hungry.”

“You always were a good cook.” Karou spoke, cracking the first real smile since arriving. He let himself be pulled into Kojiro’s arms, squished against his side as his boyfriend pressed the ice pack against his cheek. “What are we watching?”

The heavy stuff can wait until the morning. Right now- Kojiro’s only goal was to make Karou feel safe.

Send me a headcanon and I'll write a dabble for it!

#headcanons to dabbles #dabble #angst #hurt/comfort #matchablossom #teen years #Karou's parents suck #we don't like them in this blog #Kojiro is a good boyfriend #tw: implied child abuse #tw: swearing

[erisenyo]

Aang + literally anyone, “please come get me”

From this prompt game!

Aang + Katara, and a bit of Aang + Zuko friendship! Warning for implied canon-typical Zuko childhood, this one definitely went the angst route.

--

“Katara,” Aang grits into his phone, counting in one-two-three-four and out one-two-three-four and feeling exactly the same and starting the count again. “Please come get me.”

“What?” she asks, voice high with surprise. “But it should have just started, what—”

“People showed up,” Aang cuts in, closing his eyes and trying to focus just on the sound of the small but growing crowd behind him cheering, on Jet’s impassioned voice in the microphone, and on absolutely nothing else.

“Well yeah, that’s why—”

“Not to join, to—they’re watching,” he says, tight and aware that he’s not explaining himself well but he doesn’t know if he can with anger searing inside him like this, white-hot and terrifying in how much he wants to reach for it. “I need to go.”

“We talked about this,” she soothes, confident and sure of him in a way that normally makes him feel light and buoyant but now just makes him want to chuck his phone and lunge across the picket line at—“You’re so prepared, I know you can do this, you just—”

“Ozai is here,” Aang says, forcing his hand to loosen when he hears his phone creak in Katara’s sudden silence. “And I can’t—” Can’t punch him in the face, can’t tackle him, can’t drive the smug, superior, mocking look off his face and thank anything listening that Zuko isn’t here yet but spirits, the rage Aang is feeling— “I need to—can you—"

“I’m on my way,” Katara says, grim. “I’ll call Toph.”

Aang hangs up without even saying thank you, focusing on his breathing and trying to find some calm in the familiar rhythm of chants and call and response and the usually-heartening sound of a disparate crowd slowly rallying together behind a cause, and Aang should be up there, should be adding his voice and his energy and his conviction but it's like all he can see whenever he opens his eyes are those knowing yellow eyes, that smirk, that looks to dare him to do even a bit of what Aang is thinking and Aang wants to so bad and—

He doesn’t know if he’s ever been more grateful in his life when Katara’s battered blue car pulls up in a squeal of old brakes, Toph rolling out with all her usual grace and confidence in her own balance as Aang gives into the back, the door barely closing behind him before Katara is pulling away again, the crowd suddenly muffled and the brief flash of that amused stare worming into his brain and Aang feels so a wave of guilt for abandoning what he worked so hard to put together, for the wave of relief he feels at getting away, for the anger still clawing and twisting inside him.

“It was the right decision, Aang,” Katara says quietly from the front seat, like she can read his mind. "You know he's trying to goad you."

“Was it?” he asks, wanting to believe it but also—he should be there, he should—

“Yes,” she says, firm.

“If Zuko can deal with it—”

“Sokka is keeping Zuko on the other side of the city today,” Katara cuts in. “And Zuko has like, five emergency bail funds because he knows he doesn’t deal with it.”

Aang makes himself inhale slow and steady and deep, one-two-three-four-five, just like Gyatso taught him, just like he and Zuko practice, one-two-three-four-five-six and he feels like he could breathe forever and do nothing to cool the ugly rage inside him.

“Aang,” she says, gentle, “You do more good for Zuko when you’re here to help him than you do getting into a situation where Ozai can press charges against you.”

“Yeah,” Aang says after a moment, trying to accept the calm she’s giving him, reaching up to grab the hand he hears her twist back to offer him and gripping tight. “Yeah,” he says again, telling himself over and over again that it’s true, that she’s right, feeling the anger knot and seethe in his chest at the memory of cruel yellow eyes, at the memory of Zuko's bright-gold-and-clouded-yellow ones.

#asks and answers #ask games #my writing #Kataang #Katara #Aang #Zuko #Ozai #tw: implied child abuse

[dog1teeth]

You always draw him grumpy I'm so here for it

angry little man

#dtart #dtocs #hcbiya #satoshi nakayama #ive been meticulously training my art specifically for this #sorry for being gone for like a month #i used to draw kids so fugly sorry #im better now #i had google like triple check my translation and writing but it could very well still be wrong sos #tw: implied child abuse #tw: implied grooming #anon

[pastelvelvett-2nd]

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Post info

♡ Word count: 534

♡ Post type: OC introduction

! Please read the tags for tws!

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Meet Harper, a straight A student with a crippling fear of abandonment! She was originally meant for a yandere roleplay discord server, but real life unfortunately happened and that made me sort of forget to actually roleplay with her after that ahahh;; I love her to bits though, and even though I dunno if I will start roleplaying with her any time soon, it would be a shame to not at least write scenerios/imagines/whatever for her here.

Below is a neat lil introduction for the girl of the hour!

Harper is a second year in highschool. She is someone with a very strong sense of responsibility. Barely anyone has a neutral opinion on her; common consensus is either that she's a saint or someone who's only putting up a front and is too meddling for her own good. While it's true she genuinely wants to help people, she's not being completely honest. Something she doesn't particularly enjoy showing off is her emotional volatility and insecurities. On the outisde, she's very calm, collected and logical, but truth is, she's naturally driven by emotion and whims of the moment. Most assume that Harper, being the goodie two shoes perfect student that she is, would have her whole life planned out ahead of her, but in reality she's the kind of person that just doesn't want or feel the need to plan things out a long time away. She works hard to keep these traits hidden, hoping that she'd be seen as someone reliable and lovable. When Harper loves someone, her meddling nature gets even worse than it is normally, and that often manifests in her snooping in their personal belongings or getting involved in their equally personal affairs she has absolutely no part in. She does these things thinking that she's helping them, but to anyone who isn't her, it's clear as day that there's a selfish edge to her "help". "If I know everything about them, then I'd know what they want and they don't want. I'll be able to make them happy." She assures herself, failing to aknowledge that she takes immense joy in doing this. "If I know what's happening to them, I'll be there if they ever need to be protected or need a shoulder to cry on. I'll be able to make them happy." She assures herself, failing to aknowledge that the primary reason she wants this to begin with is to be seen as someone they can rely on. From past experiances, she realized that for her to receive love, she would have to mold herself into something useful that someone would want to keep around. She no longer feels bitter about it like she did when she was younger; Harper believes in this so vehemently that she just considers it a simple fact of life, something not worth fighting against or denying. So instead of breaking the game, she tries to understand the intricacies of its rules and to use them to her advantage. Afterall, all that matters is that she remains important to them, the reason why doesn't matter.

#a serving🍰 #yandere oc #yandere #oc #yandere girl #yandere imagines #tw: obsession #tw: stalking #tw: invasion of privacy #tw: delusional thinking #tw: implied child abuse

[hoperoiselover]

WOOOO NEW KIDDELA CATALOGUE CHAPTER FINALLY!! READ CHAPTER TEN ON AO3 HERE! TW: implied death, religious themes, implied child abuse, mental breakdown(s), Mervin :middle_finger: CHAPTER TEN, FOREVER MEANS NOTHING

The bike sped past the cookie-cutter houses and slowed to make a turn towards a shopping center. The center was small and run down, but in the middle of all the gloomy, closed businesses was a colorful flower shop.

“Oh! Look! It’s still open!” Cesar said, pointing to the shop.

Mark nodded and stopped pedaling. He used his foot to stop the bike from tipping over. Cesar hated this part, sometimes he’d fall off or lose balance, but luckily he was able to hop off the bike without hurting himself.

The two smiled at each other, and Mark got off the bike, now walking with it. He then left his bike outside of the store. He motioned to Cesar that they could go inside the flower shop now. Cesar nodded and followed Mark as he entered the little store.

The ring of a bell filled the store, overlapping the soft music being played through speakers around the business. There were shelves filled with gardening equipment, fertilizer, pots, seeds, and bouquets. Cesar inhaled the smell of the flowers and smiled.

“Just a second!” A short lady with brown blondish hair and light brown eyes made her way over to the two, she smiled softly at the two boys.

“Hi Mrs. Martinez!” Mark smiled up at the woman, her fingers covered with wet dirt.

“Hi there boys! How can I help you today?” Mrs. Martinez smiled. She wiped the dirt off with some paper towels that were on the cluttered counter.

“Queríamos comprar algunas flores para mi papá y la familia de Mark, Por favor, Señora Martinez,” Cesar smiled at the middle aged woman.

Mark looked at Cesar with confusion. He never understood the Spanish language, but he had tried before.

“Ah, you’re going to see your families today?” She smiled softly, yet sadly at the boys.

“Mhm, we brought money this time, so we can pay for it,” Mark nodded and pulled out the dollars and coins from his pocket.

“Aye chico, don’t bother! You can have them for free,” Martinez grinned at the two and grabbed two flower bouquets. One had orange, white, and yellow flowers while the other had pink, purple, and white flowers.

“Really?!” Both boys said, smiling at the woman.

“Of course! You two come here every few weeks and are just so polite, along with how much you still care for your loved ones. I wish you two many blessings,” Mrs. Martinez handed the flowers to both boys and smiled.

“Thank you so much Ma’am!” Mark smelled the flower’s sweet aroma.

“Of course! You two are always welcome here!”

“Gracias!” Cesar smiled and held his bouquets close to his chest.

She nodded at the two boys and watched them leave the store, the little store bell ringing again.

“Betty, were Mark and Cesar the ones who just left? I recognized their voices,” A taller, strawberry blond woman walked in the room. Her cane hit the side of the front desk and she smiled.

“Yes it was my love,” Betty Martinez looked at her wife and smiled softly as she placed her hand on Gigi’s green gardening gloves.

“Oh, those two are the sweetest boys I've ever did met! Did they stop to get flowers for their parents?” Gigi smiled and moved her hand up Betty’s arm, looking in the direction she believed Betty was in.

“Yes dear, they did,” Betty smiled softly at her wife and placed her free hand on Gigi’s.

“Awh, I wish I could’ve talked to ‘em! Cesar loves our flowers, and Mark is just the kindest soul!” Gigi flicked her hand and giggled, her southern accent was very prominent when she spoke.

“I know Gigi, I know…”

The sound of the store’s front door bell ringing could be heard.

“Oh, just on second love,” Betty smiled and got out from behind the counter, and made her way to the new customer, “Hello sir how can I… sir?”

“I forgot how many graves there were….” Mark mumbled clutching the bundle of orange, yellow, and white flowers.

“Y-yeah…. This place still scares me,” Cesar looked around. The gravesite was packed with headstones, some older than his mother. The cemetery was always a dark and gloomy place, even with how many times the two had come here they couldn’t help but feel unsafe.

Cesar shivered, the dead trees made a shrill noise as they rubbed their branches together and the sound of dirt and dead grass crunching under their shoes made him hold his breath. Mark held Cesar’s hand as they walked.

“Can we hurry before it gets dark?” Mark looked at Cesar. His green eyes full of anxiety. Cesar nodded and started to walk faster. The two jumped at every sudden noise, they didn’t want to be here anymore, but they had to give their parents the flowers, the only colors that seem to make their experience less terrifying.

“Oh! Look! I see Mom and Dad over there!” Mark smiled and pointed at a cross headstone, there was a rosary with red beads and a yellow cross hanging from it.

Cesar nodded and started to run for the grave. Mark followed in pursuit.

OPHELIA AND JASON HEATHCLIFF, EVEN THROUGH THE WORSE, THEY MADE THE BEST. 19XX-1998 19XX-1998

Mark suddenly felt his stomach drop as they approached the tomb of his parents. It still hurts to know they haven’t come back, yet Uncle Dave said they will some day, just maybe not for a long time. Mark stared at the engraved words, dirt and grime making it hard to read. Hopefully someday Uncle Dave, Sarah, and himself could clean it up really nice, maybe they’d come back then.

Mark placed the flowers in front of the cross and got on his knees. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes, his head looking down. Cesar patiently watched behind Mark. He would always say a little prayer for his parents, the three used to do that together before they ate their food and before bedtime. Mark mumbled under his breath and finished his prayer. He looked up at the cross.

“Please listen to me my lord, please. I still look up to you to answer my prayers and wishes. Please protect the ones I love and care about, thank you, amen,” Mark didn’t notice the tears streaming down his face. He prayed one day that they will return, that Sarah can get to know her Mom and Dad, that someday the alternates who have hurt his family will go away, and that his best friend could live freely without fear. Mark wanted everyone to be happy. Was that too much to ask for? Just for some happiness?

“Mar mar?... You okay?” Cesar sat down next to Mark and placed a hand on his shoulder. He rested the purple, pink, and white flowers on his lap as he tried to comfort Mark.

“M-mhm… I just…I-i miss ‘em Ces…” Mark whimpered, "I miss ‘em s-so much!” Mark sobbed, he rubbed his eyes with his hands and hiccupped through his sobs.

Cesar looked at Mark with worry and hugged him, rubbing his back, “H-hey… it’s okay…. I know… I know you miss them… I miss them too… they were very nice people…”

“I w-wan’ Mommy and D-daddy to c-come back! W-why are they t-taking so long!” Mark whined, and hit the ground with his fist. Was he being selfish?

Cesar frowned and hugged Mark slightly tighter, “I know…I’m so sorry Mar mar…”

“S-stop s-saying sorry! You w-weren't involved with their deaths! T-those s-stupid alternates killed them! I-I saw it h-happen!” Mark yelled as he took a sharp inhale of air.

Cesar winced, “I-i…. I know…b-but I still feel bad…”

Mark sniffed and rested his head on Cesar’s shoulder. The two didn’t say anything to each other for a while. Cesar continued to hug and comfort Mark to the best of his ability. He hated seeing his best friend in so much agony.

Mark’s chest slowly began to rise and fall in an even, calm matter and he wipes his tears away.

“I’m sorry Ces… we’ve been here for so long the sun is setting… you haven’t given your dad his flowers yet,” Mark frowned. He felt guilty for wasting Cesar’s time.

“I-it’s okay! We can do it another day!-” Cesar smiled and was cut off by the brunette.

“No! We’re going to see your dad today, right now!” Mark yelled with determination. He stood up and adjusted his backpack on his back, “His grave is over by the gazebo right?”

“M-mark we can do it later I don’t want you getting in trouble-”

“Shush shush! We’re going! Now it's over there right?” Mark picked up the flowers and gave them to Cesar.

“I-...Yeah… Papa is over there…” Cesar held the flowers close and stood up.

“Perfect! Come on!” Mark grabbed Cesar’s hand and started to run for the grave. Cesar yelped as Mark dragged him by the hand.

Mark ran as quickly as his legs could take him. He dogged the decaying trees and smaller headstones. He could hear Cesar’s startled yelps every time he almost hit himself against a tombstone or tree. Cesar’s footwork was as graceful as a newborn deer.

After a bit of running and Cesar almost tripping a few times, Mark saw it. The grave had some wilting flowers on it and it was quite small, not as grand as Mark’s parent’s cross was.

ROMAN TORRES, 19XX-1998

“Ces! Were..here!” Mark smiled as he panted.

Mark looked at Cesar and frowned. Cesar was holding the now bent and smashed flowers. When Mark had been dragging him along Cesar had accidentally squished the flowers trying to protect them.

“Cesar….the flowers…” Mark pointed to them as he regained his breath.

Cesar looked down, petals were missing, the stems bent, the flower bulbs mushed together, “Oh…i’m sorry…” Cesar frowned, he ruined the flowers… Suddenly, he didn’t want to be here anymore.

“Hey,... it’s okay! Look! They are still pretty,” Mark smiled as he patted Cesar’s shoulder.

Cesar sighed and went over to the simplistic grave. He picked up the wilted flowers and placed the new ones. Cesar used his hand to wipe the dirt off the tombstone. He frowned. Papa deserved a better burial, funeral, and grave… How dare his mother show disrespect to his papa even after death… Cesar couldn’t help but feel angry. His chest welled up with bottled up frustration. Cesar took a deep breath; he shouldn't be angry at his Mama, nor at his Papa. He loved them too much.

“Hola Papa….um… I… I really miss you… um… I still have your jacket!...Mark kept it safe for me… I wish you could meet him… I think you two would like each other… I-i’m sure Mama misses you too!... …Te amo Papa…i’m sorry I don’t know what else to say…” Cesar sighed, his chest ached and he felt tired. Every word that came from his mouth made his body feel heavy. He wanted to say more, but what was the point when the person he was trying to talk to could not listen.

Cesar looked down at his father’s grave, tears silently poured down the sides of his face. How he longed for those arms again. To hold him and to comfort him. Cesar grabbed his father’s jacket’s sleeve, and he winced.

“...Ces…,” Mark frowned sadly. He went over to Cesar and hugged him close.

“Will you stay?” Cesar asked Mark, continuing to look at the dirty headstone. His voice quiet and monotone.

“What?”

“Could you stay…with me… forever?....Please?”

“Ces,... I’m not going anywhere…I promise you,...I’ll stay, forever, right here, next to you…”

Cesar softly squeezed the younger, yet taller boy. He let out a shaky breath and sniffed. Cesar’s tears were making Mark’s light gray hoodie darken. Mark returned the squeeze. No matter what happens, Mark promises to never leave Cesar’s side… “I’ll never leave…you’re my best friend..” Mark smiled at the smaller boy.

“Mm..Thank you…t-thank you so much, Mark,” Cesar smiled softly and took a deep breath.

“You’re welcome…”

“Thank you Eliana for the food,” Adam held a small bowl in his hands, its rough, plastic texture made him cringe when he rubbed his fingers against it.

“What do I keep on telling you, Adds! Momma makes the best food ever!” Jonah smiled and giggled, he was bouncing up and down as he ran across the kitchen and dining room. He was helping his mother clean the kitchen.

Eliana smiled softly and chuckled, “It’s no problem chico, and thank you Jo. I appreciate it.

Jonah smiled at Eliana and smiled as she took the bowl from Adam and washed it.

“I need you two in Jonah’s room before eight o’ clock alright? I don’t want Pops to see Adam okay?” Eliana said as she finished washing the dishes, draining the water from the sink. She looked at the clock on the wall, seven forty two P.M.

“Okay, Momma!” Jonah smiled, “Oh! Adam! Do you want to continue to play what we were before?”

“Oh,...Okay!” Adam grinned, as he fixed his hair. The lamb hoodie was flattening his curls.

“Aye! Make sure to brush your teeth! I don’t need you to have a trip to the dentist this summer!” Eliana scowled playfully.

“Ughhhhh fine!” Jonah groaned and walked to the bathroom, Adam followed Jonah.

Eliana sighed to herself as she dried her hands with a kitchen towel. She had been dreading night time to arrive. Mervin should be on his way home now, unless he was out doing god knows what. Eliana growled under her breath. Fucking Mervin, ditching his job as a father and going out a getting drunk or whatever and leaving all the work to her, what an asshole.

Eliana could hear the sounds of giggling and the pitter patter of little feet running against the wood floors, followed by a door being shut closed. She smiled softly to herself before frowning. God, what was Mervin going to say when he got home. What was he going to do when he realized the money from their account had gone down. She knew she couldn’t hide it from him. Eliana knew that Mervin was a dick, but he wasn’t a dumbass, sometimes.

She took a deep breath and began to sweep the floors. Even though the floors were perfectly fine, there was something about always having something to do that Eliana found comfort with. She couldn’t sit down and just relax, there were too many things to get done, along with Mervin’s stupidly high expectations, nothing was good enough for the greedy bastard. Just thinking about Mervin made Eliana’s blood boil. Her movements when sweeping got more aggressive. She wanted to scream, tear out her hair as if that would get rid of all the problems in her life. Eliana huffed and looked at the clock again, seven forty nine P.M. To Eliana time wasn’t moving fast enough. It was like the sound of the clock ticking down to certain doom was taunting her, tick…..tock……tick ... .tock…. Eliana took another deep breath, sweat dripping down her forehead. She tapped the broom’s handle with her nail. Her heart beating rapidly and the clock’s ticking filling her brain. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Eliana shut her eyes and snapped her neck in the direction of the clock. Her eyes full of rage and annoyance.

“Stupid fucking clock…” Eliana spat and rolled her eyes as she continued to sweep. When she finally left her guard down and calmed down a tad, the front door opened and was slammed closed.

Eliana jumped and looked at the man now standing in the kitchen.

“Eliana. You got some fucking explaining to do.” END OF CHAPTER TEN, FOREVER MEANS NOTHING.

#tmc #the mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue au #the kiddela catalogue #adam murray #jonah marshall #cesar torres #mark heathcliff #mervin marshall #GRHHH GRHHH I HATE MERVIN MARSHALL #tw implied death #tw: religious themes #tw: implied child abuse #tw: mental breakdown

[steam-powered-chaos]

Automatism (Chapter 2)

Violet layed in still silence, numb and chilled to the bone, for what felt like a few minutes but was most likely a few hours, as they thought over their life, their memories of their uncle.

|| “Uncle Jacque?” Violet had tugged on his tail gently to get his attention, and the kesean man looked down at the 8 year old with soft, gentle eyes and a smile on his face. He knelt down to their level. Violet beamed up at him. “When I grow up, I’m gonna be just like you!” He chuckled warmly, a soft, kindly tone which sounded almost like wind chimes. ||

‘He was gone now, that trap had crushed them both right? Were they dead? Was he near? Was there even an afterlife? It was his fault after all, his fault that they had lost their uncle, lost their own life.’

|| “Violet? My dearest, what’s wrong? Why do you look so mournful?” Jacque had curled his tail around Violet, gently wiping their tears. “D-Dad doesn’t want me to see you anymore!” They wailed, burying their head into his jacket, as Jacque looked startled. “Why not? Did I do something to- to upset him? I know he hasn’t been the same since Suzi passed.” He murmured the last part, seemingly to himself as he held the 14 year old close to his chest, purring to calm them down. “He said it’s cause you’re a monster!” The kesean stiffened, but said nothing. ||

‘A monster? The only monster here was their father.’ Feeling slowly entered Violet’s nerves, and they opened their eyes, lying still for just a little longer, before realising they were being stared at. Was their uncle with them? No… the trap had completely crushed him… but still, Violet found hope. Hope to make sure no one would feel their father’s wrath ever again.

So they pushed up, punching their resurrector in the nose and running, running as fast as they could. Out the strange ship they were being held, back to the market. Their legs felt… strange. Heavier, and stronger. Violet didn’t pause to look however, only thoughts of attempting to recover parts of their uncle before the thieves got to him.

Sure enough, they were already trying to make off with his jacket, shoulder bag and ring. Rage filled the 17 year old human, and they ran at the first thief, punching them square in the chest, another a punch in the jaw. The final thief turned on them, and they didn’t have to think, as their leg snapped up and they kicked him in the head, causing it to cave in from their foot. They backed away, staring down at their new, metallic legs, before kneeling down and collecting everything they could, and running off.

Golden mechanical eyes watched as they ran, as the Mechanisms made their way to track them down.

#the mechs #the mechanisms oc #the mechanisms #Fanfiction #tw: gore #tw: implied child abuse #gunpowder tim

[prince-honeypaw]

Would it be ok to ask if you could write something with little Hitoshi and cg dabi like somehow dabi came across a smoll toshi? /Genq

♡ Sure! However, I only see this matchup truly working in something of an AU, so hold on tight! >:3 ♡ I got pretty attached to this concept too, so I may write more for it!

♡ Shinsou didn't really have a plan for if he failed both of UA's entrance exams.

♡ He had figured that even if he failed the practical exam, he could at least make it in on the written one–or even just get into one of the general courses! But, he didn't.

♡ Two points. Hitoshi had missed the qualification cut off for the general course by two points. That was devastating on its own, but hearing that several of his middle school classmates had been accepted into places like Ketsubutsu or Shiketsu–even one or two got into UA!–that... That hurt worse. He told himself it didn't have to be UA! He.. He could apply to another school.

♡ So he did. Again, and again, and again. He'd been rejected by Shiketsu, Isamu, and even Seijin High before it finally sank in.

♡ Everyone was right about him. His quirk... It was more befitting of a villain than a hero if even a nobody school like Seijin High didn't even want him.

♡ So, sitting in the guest bedroom of his current foster home while looking at applications for average high schools, he decided that he didn't need to be a hero... But, he wouldn't just fall through the cracks and become a victim to save.

♡ If society wanted him to be a villain, then that's what he'd become.

♡ He ran away not long after and set himself up as something of an information broker, using his quirk to get documents, pictures, texts, emails, weapons- Anything he could pass on to the highest bidder.

♡ Hitoshi makes a name for himself by going after pro-heroes specifically, digging into their hidden agendas and selling anything worth knowing. This catches the eye of a fellow underground broker, Giran.

♡ Sure he's seen kids do bad things to survive, but this one? He was good at it. Making a name and reputation for himself as the guy that can get you the clothes off a hero's back with a few good words.

♡ But, Giran also knows that strays like this one don't show up unharmed... He has another kid he's been watching out for in some rough shape already, so he extends a hand. Says a kid shouldn't have to rough this lifestyle on his own.

♡ Shinsou accepts the offer to bunk up with Giran since it's better than crashing on benches or at the local boy's shelter. And if Giran tried to betray him, Shinsou was certain he could take him down. After all, what did one old man have on him?

♡ The answer was the old man had a very burned up cohort that crashed on his couch now and again.

♡ Hitoshi had been warned about the guy–Dabi was allegedly his name–but he made a point to stay out of his way. When not swinging manic he usually looked... Pretty lost? Maybe even lonely. It wasn't Hitoshi's place to stick his nose into another runaway's business, so they had an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

♡ Until they didn't.

♡ Being a foster child, Hitoshi was very good at slipping into new routines–whether he wanted to or not. And this included finding gaps in these routines where he could indulge in one of his favorite pass times: Tiny Time. Sure, he knew what regression was called now that he had a real phone and unrestricted access to the internet, but Tiny Time got him through the thick and thin of his foster life, so he isn't going to start calling it something else.

♡ Still, he knew what the best times to have his little time in the living room were! Friday nights and Saturdays were usually the best stretches of time he could get without Giran poking his nose into his business all, "You okay there, kiddo?" and "Tell me if you need anything."

♡ Hitoshi did as he always would when Giran left for the night, which was get dressed up in his calico onesie and drag out his blanket with the toys he'd be accompanied by for the night to drop on the couch, followed by gathering his bottle and pacifier of the evening. He deposited his bottle in the kitchen like usual and got down to business... Picking out one of the DVDs Giran got him on clearance.

♡ Everything is going great for awhile! He's got Aristocats on for the third week in a row, Miss Spooky and Grimalkin are reconciling their differences from last week's harrowing play session, and the window is sliding open-

♡ Hold up. Hitoshi bristles at the unlocked window steadily slides up until it's certain not to drop on the intruder. A bundle of black and purple tumbles in with all the grace of a rock through glass and Dabi picks himself up off the floor like it's nothing, turning to close the window and lock it.

♡ Usually, Hitoshi would know better. He'd know that it's just Dabi coming to crash on Giran's couch or raid his fridge or whatever other Dabisms follow him, but this isn't usually. This is Hitoshi's time to be small, vulnerable, and safe.

♡ Dabi looms in front of him with that unreadable expression and a curious tilt to his head, smelling like cigarettes and looking like a demon to the poor baby... He doesn't know what to do other than back up, crying and floundering in panic when Dabi's boots pursue and stop to crouch in front of him.

♡ To Dabi though? This is a grossly familiar sight.

♡ A frightened child, huddled into himself in hopes of being small enough to ignore, but this time the sight doesn't bring out old vices of anger and other emotions he's stomped into embers. It brings out something else, something softer and sadder. So he crouches as low as his aching body allows and holds up his hands where the kid can see them. "Hey," His voice is gravely but not harsh, "Look at me."

♡ Hitoshi does so without a fight, but with eyes as wide as saucers. Not comforting to see that even in such a small state, Hitoshi has obedience nailed deep into the recesses of his mind, but Dabi isn't what most call the picture of mental health. So he does what he can for now. "See? Got my guard down for you here, so there's no need to be all coiled up like that. Making my back hurt looking at you," Dabi continues, hoping to get Shinsou to at least unfurl. Thankfully, Shinsou only regards him with a bit more suspicion before untucking from his protective hunch. Dabi still stays put until Hitoshi slowly crawls up onto the couch after determining that he isn't a threat.

♡ Now Dabi can go about his night as he'd planned: Raiding Giran's medicine cabinet for something to kill the pinching and burning in his muscles, and seeing what food the old man's got that looks palatable.

♡ With painkillers and water he drank straight from the sink in his system, Dabi slinks through the living room like an alley cat. Of course he sees Hitoshi watching him from over the back of the couch with these wide, innocent eyes that speak less of terror and more of childlike curiosity. A monotone "Boo" has the kid tucking back into his blanket like a startled kitten.

♡ The kitchen is pretty easy to raid now that Giran is feeding a hungry teenager and a full box of Cosmic brownies turn into Dabi's dinner when the empty bottle on the counter registers. Thinking about the kid being alone all night makes his mouth go sour so he curses under his breath, snatches the offending item up and fills it with the vanilla milk Giran started picking up because it was like currency with Shinsou.

♡ Wondering when he started to go all soft, Dabi also makes good use of the toaster oven to heat up leftover pizza so at least he can shake the creeping feeling that Hitoshi hasn't really eaten in awhile. After a moment of debate... The bottle of milk goes in the microwave for a bit too.

♡ It's just this one time he tells himself. He just feels guilty for scaring him. It's just because he's a kid, that's it- Using any and every excuse he can tell himself while dropping the reheated pizza and warmed milk on the coffee table. "Here. Don't let it get cold," He mutters and drops his body into a recliner with a dull thump.

♡ Hitoshi looks out from under the hood of his onesie at the offering with those impossibly round eyes, then at Dabi like the guy had just hung the stars in the sky rather than just heating up some food for him. He scoots to the floor and tugs his pacifier out so he can eat, looking less tense the longer he's in Dabi's presence.

♡ And so what if Dabi doesn't mind the warm feeling in his chest? Hitoshi is just a kid that needs more than just a roof over his head and food on his plate just like he was once.

♡ It's just one time, he'd insist to himself. He'd just start the cat movie over for him because Shinsou pointed at the screen and blinked up at him until he did it. He'd just pull the kid's blanket off the couch because it had gotten tucked into the cushions. He'd just let him lean against his leg because he knows he's warm. He'd just pull the little tyke and his bottle up in his lap so he doesn't drop it and make a mess. He'd just do these things because they were convenient and right there, not because he wanted to.

♡ And yet... When Shinsou falls asleep on him he doesn't move him, no matter how convenient it would be. Even when his arm falls asleep and Hitoshi starts to curl up like he's been freezing for his entire life until now. Hitoshi needed it... Maybe Dabi did too.

♡ And maybe, just maybe, it doesn't have to be just one time.

#tw: implied child abuse #long post #sfw agere #bnha agere #Agere Shinsou #Agere Dabi #Honey HCs

[queermentaldisaster]

Okay so the kids in ‘There's a Revolution Coming’.

Here's their information.

(under the cut)

Kelly (left) and Kiram (right)

They're twins, both fourteen. They were born on January 15th in 2010, so both are Gen Alpha. Their skin is paler than it should be because of the lack of sunlight. They were kidnapped, along with their parents, at four years old. They are wingless demons. And they sound like British versions of Velvet and Veneer from Trolls.

Evelyn (left) and Winnie (right)

Winnie is nine and Evelyn is eight. They were born to two separate demon couples under Meister's...influence, for lack of a better word. But they're so close, that they're like sisters. They see Kelly and Kiram as older siblings as well. Their wings and powers have not developed yet. They sound like British versions of Pacifica (Evelyn) and Mabel (Winnie) from Gravity Falls.

Ellie.

She's the oldest of the group, at fifteen. She was born in Fuldabrück, Kassel, Germany, on June 16th in 2008. She was three when her parents were kidnapped by Meister. She's the 'mom' of the group, always taking care of the younger ones no matter what. She will kill to defend her family (the other kids) and she'd given up all hope for rescue...until Soap came along. She sounds like a German Alice from Alice in Wonderland (1951)

#my ocs #ocs #demon ocs #demon children #demon kids #traumatized children #characters from my fic #monster 141 au #monster cod au #cod monster au #ellie #kelly #kiram #winnie #evelyn #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #tw: kidnapping #tw: implied child abuse