#implied abuse

[mothmanadjacent]

A commission for @greypistacchio For their fanfic that you can find here

It is so beautifully written but also please mind the tws 💛

#bruises #implied abuse #adding these as tws in case someone has these tags blocked #mothartadjacent #my art #digital art #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel husk

[suzukiblu]

Tim?

Tim did not actually mean to kidnap an alternate reality's version of Kon.

In his defense, he'd had very limited time in that reality and everything in it had been going to shit and . . . well, everything in it had been going to shit.

Also, Lex Luthor had been a lot more heavily involved in that particular reality's Cadmus, and fuck it if Tim was ever going to leave any version of Kon with that bastard.

With any bastard who could ever look at Kon and call him "it".

"Ow," Tim grunts into the dirty pavement of what he hopes is his own Gotham as blood drips out of his mouth, and feels Kon's fingertips brush very, very tentatively against his back. He's a little too dizzy to lift his head, but he figures it doesn't matter. Like it's just . . . it's fine. They're not in Cadmus and Kon is safe and Tim is . . . conscious, at least, which means he can work with the situation.

Whatever the situation actually is, anyway.

Kon's hands flatten against his back, which is a very familiar tell, and Tim immediately feels the even more familiar embrace of TTK wrapping him up.

Less familiar is the impulse to find said embrace adorable, but in Tim's defense, this Kon is physiologically about ten years old and so far every single thing he's done has been either adorable or heartbreaking or some terrible combination of the two.

"Robin?" Kon asks anxiously. "You're okay, right?"

"M'okay," Tim mumbles blurrily, because it's more or less true. More blood drips out of his mouth and splatters on the pavement. "All okay. S'fine. You hurt?"

"No," Kon says, still sounding nervous. "Dunno where we are, though."

"Should be Gotham," Tim says, forcing himself to lift his head enough to check and nearly laughing as he recognizes their surroundings as the exact part of Crime Alley that he got interdimensionally yanked out of seventy-six hours ago. "Yeah. Gotham."

He pushes himself up enough to look over at Kon. Kon looks very small crouched down next to him with buzzed-down hair, barefoot in pristine white lab scrubs with a shiny metal cuff stamped with an identification number locked around his wrist. "13" features prominently on it.

Tim wants to melt it into slag.

"Is it your Gotham?" Kon asks.

"No clue, but I'm hoping," Tim says. He thinks about getting to his feet but he's pretty sure he'd throw up if he tried. Or fall over. Or both?

Probably both, at this point.

Oh well, he figures, and pushes himself up. He doesn't vomit, surprisingly, although he is very definitely sure that Kon's TTK is the only thing keeping him from falling over.

No reason to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, Tim decides.

"I need coffee," he says as he gives Kon's shoulder an appreciative pat, because the caffeine withdrawal is real. Also he needs medical attention, probably, but also-also he needs to come up with either a cover story for the ER or an explanation for Bruce and therefore caffeine can't hurt.

"Uh, okay," Kon says skeptically. "I don't think Starbucks or anything is gonna be open right now, though, it's pretty late."

"God, what did Cadmus teach you, kid," Tim says despairingly, making a face at the thought. "Starbucks is a punishment from God. We're going to the nearest twenty-four diner and I'm ordering roofing tar. And we're getting you a hot chocolate. Do you want a hot chocolate?"

". . . yeah," Kon says, biting his lip. "Um. I mean, I dunno if I'd like it, though."

"If you don't like it, we'll get you something else," Tim says. "But I haven't slept or eaten properly since I left my reality and I need coffee before it becomes a legitimate medical emergency."

"Shouldn't you get, like, real food, then?" Kon asks skeptically. "Not just coffee?"

"Coffee is food," Tim lies reflexively.

". . . I don't think it is," Kon says, squinting up at him suspiciously. "Are you taking advantage of me being too stupid to know if coffee's food or not?"

". . . we can get something to go," Tim says, wishing he'd blown up a bit more of Cadmus on his way out of that fucking cesspool of a reality. "You're not stupid. Luthor can choke on a fucking cactus for all the shit he kept saying to you."

"I mean, I didn't come out right," Kon says uncomfortably. "I'm not as smart as Dadd–as Lex is. Or as Superman was."

Tim pretends that Kon wasn't about to say "Daddy" for both their sakes. Just . . . yeah. At least for the moment, anyway.

Luthor was a lot more heavily involved in that Cadmus.

And horrifyingly.

Tim tries not to think about the way that Luthor had kept touching Kon. All the little too-deliberate points of contact he'd made time and again and too often.

Much too often.

Tim hadn't seen anyone else even so much as enter Kon's personal space the entire time he'd been in that godforsaken lab, and every single time that Luthor had made a gesture like he might touch him, Kon had tensed in something that couldn't decide between being fear or anticipation.

It'd made Tim want to burn the whole fucking lab and every single LexCorp-owned building he could find to the ground.

He'd settled for interdimensionally kidnapping Kon and destroying all of Cadmus's systems and DNA samples as thoroughly as possible. C-4 had been involved.

A lot of C-4 had been involved.

Possibly that had been a slight overreaction, but fuck if Tim cares. Just–Clark had still been dead, and Cassie hadn't had powers and Bart hadn't been in the time period and Tim himself hadn't even existed, for whatever reason, and apparently neither had Cissie or Greta or Anita or Slobo, and Bruce had already had his hands full with Damian and Dick had been off-planet and Jason had also still been dead and just–

Options had been limited, alright?

Options had been limited, and by that point Tim hadn't had time to go check and see what the Kents were up to or track down Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen or even just tip off the Justice League or the Titans, because by that point he'd been in an examination room with a Lex Luthor who was stroking a frightened Kon's face with one hand while holding a syringe that was glowing kryptonite-green with the other and Tim had just . . . he'd just made some choices at that point, okay?

He'd made some very decisive choices.

And some very decisive commitments.

Or at least one very decisive commitment, anyway.

#dc robin #tim drake #superboy #kon el #conner kent #rinfic #anonymous #long post #implied molestation #implied abuse #wip: interdimensional kidnapping via robin

[lockandkeyhyena]

can you break the chain?

#yeen art #alvin’s infurno #hell story #ethan beck #alvin adams #anne adams #simon coho #implied abuse

[internutter]

Not being normal about BG3

Not being normal about that little gasping gulp Astarion does after he gets human(oid) blood for what's possibly the first time. How out of breath and astonished he is at how it feels.

Not being normal about how he was wheedling and pleading beforehand, bargaining for "just a drop".

Not being normal about how shocked and surprised he is

Completely not being normal about how the rants about rats and bugs and Cazador puts that little gulp into a whole new perspective.

Especially not being normal about when you find him bear-drunk and he compares human(oid) blood [YOURS!] to a fine wine in contrast to the "plonk" of animal blood. Or the "sewer water" of rats.

...and not being normal about Larion not allowing our Tav's to get blushy about being "a fine wine" for a nice little conversation derailment...

This tiny gasp is that of someone who's never had anything close to a proper meal in two hundred fucking years.

No wonder he wants to hold on to what we players give him with both hands. No wonder he throws all his ploys at you to try to keep you.

And I'm not even out of Act 1.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #not being normal #larion studios: we're gonna give the monsterf*ckers everything they want #vampire spawn #implied abuse #juice box tav

[dazeddoodles]

Height difference

#the owl house #toh #raeda #aladarius #raine whispers #darius deamonne #eda clawthorne #alador blight #odalia blight #my art #implied abuse

[druidshollow]

In the wake of a fight with her spouse, Descent seeks out her childhood friends for comfort.

ive slogged away at this all weekend and my wrist hurts and i couldnt even be bothered to draw the couch anymore by the end but WHATEVER whatvr here u go hope u enjoy. lots of sad des time

#rain world oc #rw ancients #rw ancient oc #long #rain world #druid draw #sequential #oc posting #descent #blade #mural #wrench #implied abuse #cw abuse #ask to tag ofc

[lunameimei]

"Maybe you're on top now. But sometimes, even after death, you still can't just cut out everything that happened at the bottom."

comic continuation below under cut

TW ‼️ PTSD, Implied abuse (please be careful 🙏)

Important Note (!)

I am not trying to defend or make anyone look better. “Bad experience” may be an explanation, but not an excuse. If you don't like this ship/HC/art, you can always block/ignore my acct/hashtag. This is fine. Do what is good for your health, but don't attack others.

That's all.

#TW #Implied abuse #PTSD #trigger warning #my art #VoxVal #StaticMoth #vox x valentino #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel fanart #hellaverse #valentino #vox #artists on tumblr

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Merry Whumpmas 2023 Day 30: Sweating

TW: fever, delirious, past abuse/whump

Whumpee shook their head and mumbled something unintelligible as Caretaker placed the cool, damp cloth on their forehead. Their eyes were half-open but glazed over, their skin slick with sweat. “No…” they muttered, “no!”

“It’s okay…” Caretaker soothed, placing another cloth on the back of Whumpee’s neck. “You got a pretty bad fever, but it’ll be okay, I’m here.”

Whumpee’s eyes flicked about the room, but they showed no sign of hearing or understanding their words. “...Whumper…” they whispered, almost fearfully.

Caretaker stiffened. “Whumper’s not here,” they said hurriedly, touching Whumpee’s hand in reassurance, “It’s just me.”

Whumpee shook their head. “No, please! I’ll be good, I promise!”

Caretaker froze. “Aw, hell….”

“...please…” Whumpee mumbled, closing their eyes. Tears began to drip from underneath the closed lids. “Please… please stop…”

Caretaker intertwined their fingers with Whumpee’s. “Whumper can’t hurt you anymore, okay?” They whispered, still unsure if Whumpee could understand them. “I won’t let them. You hear that? I won’t let them hurt you.”

#merry whumpmas #my writing #whump #whumpee #whump scenario #caretaker #fever whump #fever #delirium whump #implied abuse #past whump #whumper #whumpee x caretaker

[nerves-nebula]

and of course, Leo never looked back. why bother, y'know?

this is the leo being protective comic you all voted on a while back. i didn't NEED to make it this long but i chose to sooo. anyway, commission me.

#nnstuff #nnart #neglected art #teenage mutant neglected turtles #tmnt leo #tmnt splinter #tmnt #tmnt comic #comic #violence tw #blood tw #implied abuse #implied child abuse

[bunnieswithknives]

Chaos and Fizzy love me. They love me because if they didn't they would kill me.

#yhs #yhs reboot #yandere high school #yhs bunny #body horror #blood #implied abuse #stockholm syndrome #horror #psycological horror #Lore #art #digital art #I love slamming them against walls #I need them to break #I need them absolutely shattered beyond repair

[mothmanadjacent]

⚠️PLEASE MIND THE WARNING IN THE BEGINNING ⚠️

Keep yourselves safe 💛

#mothartadjacent #my art #digital art #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel valentino #valangel #implied abuse #tw abuse #abuse dynamics

[finnitesimal]

everyone be quiet I'm thinking about bitter and jaded scar who knows what etho can do and what cleo's gone through and who's trying his hardest to keep bdubs out of etho's clutches because bdubs doesn't Know he still believes in the legend and the past and because he's older and can afford to risk himself more and it'd break cleo's heart if etho gets to him I'm thinking about how everyday he might be waking up to notice the splotches if white in his own hair (it's cause he's turning red he's just turning red he's just red he's just red) I'm thinking about him setting up traps and noticing the redstone dust covering his arms and dusting them off hurriedly before he heads home I'm thinking about "you always have to ruin everything for me, don't you son? ^^" like that shit didn't chill me to my core

#these are exclusive to limited life. maybe not entirely but very specific to limited life #woah dude!!! i thought this was the gay sex server I didn't think we'd be dropping into familial abuse and trauma simulator #limited life smp #limited life spoilers #the clockers #oldest daughter scar real #ASKT O TAG. PLEASE. #implied abuse

[jasmines-library]

Loving your whumptober so far! Spent like an hour reading through all of your entries and wow 🥰 if you’re still taking requests, maybe you could consider doing a batfam fic with a reader who used to be a member of the court of owls. I just think that’d be cute haha

The Cover Up

Summary: You're tired of living a lie. of living in a constant state of secrecy. You want out, but you have to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. That finally comes in the form of Dick Grayson, but things so sideways when the Court send assassins after you and you are forced to rely on a team of masked vigilante's and long-time enemies of the Court to save your life. (gn reader :))

Note: I had to do a bit of research for this one but this was so much fun to write! Thank you for requesting anon!

Warnings: implied/ briefly mentioned abusive parents, assassination attempts, non descriptive injury, found family and a fluffy ending :)

Word count: 3.2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Galas were boring. At least they were in Gotham. They were all the same; a bunch of wealthy snobs dressed extravagantly all crammed into a room with delicately ornate ceilings and diamond shaped chandeliers. The sound of feet shuffling and heels clicking against the polished floors occasionally broke through the sound of chatter as guests mingled, drifting between one and other, passing around pristine champagne glasses that glistened when they caught the light that seemed to be obsessively bright considering it was dark outside and all you could see besides the moon and the stars were the street lamps that dwindled away into nothing in the distance. 

You had secluded yourself to the top of the stairs, tucking yourself into a corner by the bannister, trying to find a way to sit in your outfit that made you feel like the human embodiment of a wooden plank; the material was too stiff in some places, and if you moved in certain ways, it would ride up and sit uncomfortably on your skin. From up here you had a clear view of everything from below. You kept a keen eye on the Wayne boys as they dotted around the room, plastering on smiles to hide their clearly bored faces. 

You couldn’t help needing the constant feeling of being able to survey. It was something that your family had ingrained into you from the moment you were old enough to understand how to keep a secret. See, your family was part of a syndicate that dated back hundreds of years. It used its wealth and the power that came with it to manipulate its way into getting what it wants when it wants it. But, it wasn’t just your family. There were others, too. In fact, at least half of the people in the room were a part of the syndicate. The Court of Owls. The elite. Gothams deadliest. And you were lucky to be one of them. Or, that’s what you had always been told…but recently, you had been feeling off. Something hacked away at you, your life was one big lie. And what you were doing felt wrong… you couldn’t handle the blood shed anymore. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself. You would find a way out. 

“What are you doing?”

The gruff voice made you jump. Lost in your reverie, you hadn’t even heard the figure approach from behind you. His large figure and broad shoulders told you that his steps should have been heavy, but there was something else about him that screamed the opposite at you, but perhaps your hardwiring was making you overthink. 

“I uh…Sorry.” You mumbled, scrambling to stand up and failing to think of an excuse. 

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head and extending a hand from his black suit jacket for you to take. When you took it, it was calloused but gentle, warm and followed by a chivalrous grin. 

“I don’t think we’ve met before.” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You shook your head. “Perhaps not. I tend to keep to myself at these kinds of things. Try to avoid them if possible.”

The boy smiled. “Agreed. I’m Dick. Dick Grayson.”

“Y/N.” You shook his hand, opting not to give him a last name. You knew that if you gave it away somehow you would slip up. “So, you’re one of Wayne’s kids? What’s that like for you?”

“Exactly as you’d expect it to be. Three whiny little brothers, a dad who’s barely there, but somehow still overprotective all the time. What more could one ask for?”

“Sounds like you’re living the life.” You agreed. You hated to admit it, but you were slightly jealous of the kid. You had always begged for a normal life. Well, as close to normal as you could get to. 

“Yeah.” Dick shrugged.

There was something about this stranger that made you feel safe. It was an odd sensation, but talking to Dick made you feel like a missing part of you had been filled. His voice was so comforting that it allowed you to get lost within his lilt for hours, losing track of time and purpose, forgetting about that oh so present worry of keeping the secret. It wasn't until a cold, bony hand wrapped around your elbow, tugging you up and away from the stairs. You weren’t even given a change to say goodbye to Dick as you were mercilessly dragged away. 

Your mother scolded you that night. Hurrying you down the dark pathway. She uttered the same words. It was always the same words.  “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N.” “That’s not how we act, Y/N.” “Oh, if only he could see you now he would be outraged at how useless you are.”

It would have been nice to say that you had to bite back the tears, but it was such a common occurrence now that you just kept your face stoic and marched on down the pathway, listening to the gravel crunch as it shifted under your shoes instead of your mother. 

It was that night that seemed to be the final straw.Another scolding from your mother at the Court meeting before bed, and you finally snapped. It was embarrassing, being belittled like that in front of your friends. So, although the plan was slightly rushed, it seemed to be the perfect timing. It was already late, and your parents had retired to bed with weary steps and droopy eyes. It was the perfect chance to slip out unnoticed. Or, so you thought. 

With your bag slung over your shoulder and your mask still pressed tightly to your face, you tried to slip out of the door. You were halfway down the driveway, keeping your back pressed to the dark shadows cast by the hedges when you heard it. A snap, and then an animalistic growl. And then there were the haunting green eyes that seemed to blink into existence out of nowhere; vibrant and angry they stared a never resisting stare at you as the humanoid honed in on you. 

Without thinking twice, you dropped your bag and ran, slamming your feet into the ground and propelling yourself down the drive and into the maze of buildings in Gotham City. The Talon was right behind you. You could hear it drawing in, feel its hot breath every time you began to slow, only for it to propel you on faster. 

When you found a fork in the path, you made a fake turn hoping to trick the Talon into going the wrong way as you clambered up an old steel ladder that made you wince as it echoed much too loudly across the alley for your liking. For one, bittersweet moment, you thought that it had worked, but after catching your breath at the top of the roof, you were forced back to running at the sound of a second charging at you even more persistently than the first. It was safe to say that you were now your family’s enemy. 

You cursed, leaping across the flat roofs as you tried to lose them, but the assassins weren't relenting. 

The darkness made it difficult to see where each building ended and the next one began, but you continued to hurl yourself across them, unsure of where you were actually trying to get to. All you knew was that you had to get out of Gotham. And fast. 

But your plan seemed to go sideways when they began to throw the knives. Small but deadly, they were rounded into a fine point a few inches below a well etched hole for them to be flung from the wielder's hands. Their poison tipped grooves glimmered unsettlingly as they whipped through the air with concerning precision, but your time with the Court gives you a one up on the average person and allows you to dodge a few of them. But only by mere millimetres. 

Despite the burn in your thighs, you sped up weaving around Gotham until you thought you had finally slipped their grasp. But the assassins were highly trained, and you should have known better than to trust your immediate judgement. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a throwing knife found its place within your back, tearing away at the fabric of your outfit. You let out a gasp of pain, but pressed on racing around a corner. But then another found its mark deep within your calf. You cursed, biting down harshly on your lip then stumbling around a corner and pressing yourself against the concrete wall. With heavy breaths as though all of your oxygen had been snatched away from you, you listened anxiously. But you heard nothing besides the occasional car passing by in the street below. 

Without thinking twice about it, you tore the daggers from your skin, biting back your cry of pain hoping that if you got them out the poison wouldn’t spread, though fortune didn’t seem to be in your favour recently. After tearing a strip of material from your sleeve and creating a makeshift bandage around your leg, you hobbled quickly down the nearest set of steps winching each time the wound in your leg shifted. 

You didn’t think your night could get any worse, but it was then as you whipped around a corner that you collided with a firm chest. The figure was masked and decked with a blue insignia that somewhat resembled a raven. He was quick to grip you by the shoulders and slam you against the wall. 

Pushing at him feebly you tried to loosen his hold on you but you were outmatched by his strength and your body was beginning to succumb to the effects of the poison the Talons had laced their weapons in, so you just gazed at him wide eyed behind your mask. You were running out of time. 

“Please.” You implored, struggling against him “I have to get out of here. They’re coming for me.”

“What?” He almost barked. “Who?”

“I-”

“Answer me, Bird.” His jaw tensed. Your family didn’t have a very good history with Gotham’s vigilantes. 

“The Talons.” You gritted out.

You visibly saw confusion cross his face as he deepened his brow, but he loosened his grip when he saw the glowing eyes appear on the rooftop. 

“We need to leave.” You pushed yourself away from the wall and propelled yourself further into Gotham, not caring that the vigilante was close behind. In fact, it only occurred to you that he was following you when one of the assassins managed to approach from front to try and corner you. With your vision doubling your aim was off and the dagger sailed past your target, so Nightwing raced past you and moved to take it out with one swipe of his electrified staff only to be cut short by the sound of gunfire and the emergence of another masked figure, only this one was cloaked in red. The two vigilantes acknowledged each other seemingly commuicating to eacother in ways you couldn't hear. You nodded at him gratefully and continued to make a break for it, only glancing back once to fling the other stolen dagger at your pursuers and hoping that it did something useful other than clatter to the floor. 

It seemed life forever by the time you were able to stop running. You were on the far side of Gotham, away from all of the hubbub of the city. You breathed heavily clutching at the stitch in your side when your legs buckled and you had no choice but to sit down on the ground to unravel the blood soaked rag and examine the angry cut. 

Red Hood seemed to have other plans for when you tilted your head up, he was angling his gun towards you at you. 

“Why were they after you?” he demanded, scowling. “Who are you?”

“I-” You began to explain but you were overcome with a rush of nausea and soon the lights of Gotham city and the masked vigilantes faded to black.

~

Dick Grayson frowned as he studied your unconscious body tucked neatly into one of the spare bedrooms in the manor. It had been four long days since he had hauled you had succumbed to the effects of the poison and your body had raised an alarming fever that caused beads of sweat to form across your hot skin. You were so warm that he could feel the heat radiating from you by the chair he was sitting in albeit you couldn’t stop shivering. 

Tenderly he brushed the hair from your face. One of the first things that they had done was remove your mask, and it was safe to say that Dick was taken aback when he realised that it was you hiding behind the costume. When he carried you back to the manor he wasn’t entirely sure why. It would have been easier to have just left you there to rot, after all his family were no big fans of the Court of Owls, but there was just something about you that compelled him to. You seemed so scared and innocent, but he could tell you also had this fire that flickered inside of you, desperate to leap out. It was oddly familiar to him, but he couldn’t place why until he took off the mask. When he had met you that night you hadn’t seemed like the person who would be a part of the court. He and Jason had been studying them for years and your tenderness didn’t seem to fit the profile. But then they sent assassins after you, so perhaps you were never really part of them in the first place? There were so many unanswered questions that they made the vigilantes head spin. 

“She still not awake yet?” Tim asked, pushing open the door with his legs before setting down two mugs of coffee. He had taken a particular interest in you since you had arrived. All of the boys had. They had all seen you at Bruce’s galas, even spoken to you once or twice, so your entire predicament really interested them. 

It was then that you began to stir; muscles twitching and eyes blinking slowly. That was then followed by a low groan as all of your sensations flooded back to you all at once, hitting you like a ton of bricks as the headache and dull throbbing from the stitches kicked in. 

“Take it easy.” Tim said as you jerked up suddenly. “You’ll tear your stitches.”

You eyed him confused, but slightly calmer when you realised that you were out. That the Talons hadn’t ended your life. 

“How did I get here…?” You blinked.

The two brothers glanced at each other and then Dick sighed. The truth would only come out sooner or later. 

“We ran into each other a few nights ago. You passed out on me so I brought you back here… We managed to treat you for the poison, but you’ve wracked up quite a fever. It’s a good thing you took those out when you did.” He gestured towards the bandages that were wrapped securely around your chest and your leg. “Any longer and.. Well.”

“Oh…”

“Oh? That’s it? You don’t care that he’s just revealed our identities?” Tim asked.

You shrugged. “I guess it makes sense. Five of you. Five of them. And I suppose it’s only fair. You know who I am, now I know who you are.”

You trailed off. You still needed to get as far away from Gotham as possible. 

“Thank you for everything, but I need to go-” You tried to push yourself up on shaky arms but were stopped by Tim.

“Stay there. Your body still needs to recover.”

“But they’re after me. I need to leave. I’m putting us all in jeopardy just by being here-”

“Relax.” Dick told you, running his hand down your arm “You’re safe. They’re not going to hurt you here. Not under our watch.”

His tenderness caught you off guard. It wasn’t something you were used to having. 

“Get some rest, y/n.” he told you. “We’ll keep you safe as long as you need.”

~

Much to your surprise you had ended staying with the Waynes much longer than you had anticipated. 

At first, you told yourself it was just to get yourself back up on your feet before you disappeared under the radar, but you soon began to develop a strong liking for each other and your bonds with them began to grow.

You began to enjoy spending time with them; passionate talks with Tim or bingeing movies with Jason until ungodly hours in the morning before being scolded by Alfred for not getting a healthy amount of sleep and sparring with Dick to help maintain your combat skills that at first you had wanted to ditch, but were eventually persuaded otherwise. You had even grown close with Damian who although was reluctant to openly warm up to you at first had eventually become someone you shared nearly everything with. It didn’t take long at all before you were the voice that guided them through their ear pieces each time they set out on patrol. 

Time seemed to pass by in a flash because before you knew it, it had been months since you first arrived and you no longer felt as though you were an outsider. They had welcomed you with open arms, sympathising with your situation but allowing you that space for your own independence which you were often grateful for at times when you didn’t want to deal with their antics. 

The four of them felt as though they had a duty to protect you for a while after your escape from the Court. They had been incredibly helpful in keeping you out of your family’s watchful eye, even going as far as creating you a fake identity, but they also gave you a sense of security. It was their kindness and their love that allowed you to fall asleep at night, and it was their knowledge that allowed them to be there for you when it all just became a little too much and you were in desperate need of a shoulder or four to cry on. 

They made you feel safe. 

You cherished each and every moment that you shared with the Wayne boys. Both the good and the bad. Each one was a reminder of who you were. That you had carved your own path and were free to discover who you wanted to be. 

Thank you for reading! Hope you liked :)

⛤ MAIN MASTERLIST ⛤

#batfam x reader #batfam x hurt reader #Batfamily x reader #Batam x sister reader #batfam x gn reader #found family #hurt/comfort #dick Grayson x reader #Tim drake x reader #Damian Wayne x reader #Jason Todd x reader #nightwing x reader #red hood x reader #red Robin x reader #Robin x reader #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Tim drake #Dick Grayson #implied abuse #stab wounds #poisoned #batfam x poisoned reader #court of owls #talons dc #writing #dc x reader

[naswoop]

Brief interlude between isat fanarts to draw @dekupalace's In Stars and Time au because I am utterly obsessed <-(said while vibrating with excitement)

Lil bonus pencil sketch under the cut

#art #isat #in stars and time #sasasa #start again start again start again #isat au #in stars and time au #siffrin isat #king isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time act 3 spoilers #isat act 3 spoilers #cws: #panic attacks #implied abuse #I wanted to see if I could get this out before Ronnie published another chapter. #...That was a hopeless endeavor. <-said playfully #As I drafted this chapter 13 came out #Also I apologize I don't have an ao3 account so I can't leave nice comments #I shall make fan art instead

[the-meme-monarch]

throwing around my furniture kicking holes in the walls the ut dreemurrs are everything to me

if you “headcanon” frisk and/or chara as using he or she i recommend you get better

#don’t tag as ship #the art gallery #undertale #implied abuse #kinda? for the one of chara cutting their hair #implied past abuse i suppose

[druidshollow]

Many Small Flowers, One Quick Glance is forced to face his past when he is judged by the void.

reheheheheheheheeee sorry the shitpost i posted was clickbait and he doesnt actually react to being an echo here, i might do a part 2 where he becomes conscious of it! we'll see!! the end of this is really ugly but i gotta go to bed lol lmao

#rain world #rw downpour #rain world oc #rw ancients #rw ancient oc #druid draw #sequential #flowers #oc posting #ask to tag #implied abuse #idk how to tag this sorry haha #long #druids hall of fame