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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 1 month

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Shame on a plate

Happy St. Patrick's Day, slowpokes!

When -- several minutes after Stuck in a damn bed. , after Shane blew up, and you found out that not only Dale, but Maggie saw, too.

What -- Sophia's still missing, Daryl and Carl have one more day in the house on bed rest, and you're dealing with the aftermath of your big brother Shane's actions in the previous chapter and the fact that others saw. The biggest thing you feel is shame.

Relationships -- Found family you and the gang! Lol, always a slow burn Daryl x Reader, there's also some platonic Glenn, brotherly Rick, and Maggie gets protective her new friend (you), and Papa Dale is there

Perspective -- 2nd You, 3rd Daryl

Pronouns -- none

TWs -- other than the hideous screenshot above, there's some language and discussion of abusive patterns and behaviors

How long is it? -- around 4,000 words

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

In this chapter, Reader is struggling with shame, guilt and confusion over how Shane treated them at the end of the previous chapter.

Remember, being hurt by a loved one is not okay. If they are hurting you, they are doing something bad to you. Abuse is not earned or deserved. You are worthy of being safe and unhurt.

For help getting safe, you can call the Domestic Violence Hotline (USA) at 800-799-7233, chat online, or text START to 88788.

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“No, nothin’ like it before, ever.”

Her fingers tap tap tapped against the book in her hands. “I don’t like it. Daddy’s been uncomfortable around him, then I see this happen.”

You twisted your mouth. “It was an argument between siblings.”

“If it was an argument, then why didn’t I see you arguin’ back?”

Stupid, stupid idiot. It kept playing in your head, that refrain. It had a different spin than it did at first. See, at first, your brain repeated it because you’d given yourself fault for what happened, how Shane just…you don’t know what happened. But he behaved very badly.

But then, the refrain kept repeating over and over because you didn’t walk away or fight back when Shane started hurti acting like he did.

You did nothing.

It was the one thing you were not supposed to do. The thing Shane and your Mama always warned you never to do when things got scary. The thing Shane had literally just gotten done practicing with you so that you’d know even more than you already know about how and when to fight back.

All that effort and still, you froze.

Stupid, stupid idiot. You stupid, stupid idiot.

You had to clear your throat. “Beth didn’t see, too, right? Just you?” you hushed. The girl was already timid and uneasy about your group, If she saw what happened, it was the nail in the coffin if you couldn’t fix this.

“No, I was the only one by the window.”

“So he wasn’t too loud, then.” Which meant only Margaret and Dale knew. Your shoulders felt lighter.

“Y/N,” Maggie said to you. “You seem more concerned with others not seein’ what went on.”

“Well, yeah, I’m worried they’d overreact.”

She tilted her chin up and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, is that what I’m doing? Was my comin’ to check on you an overreaction?”

“No, no, not at all!” you quickly apologized. “Not at all! I’m, I’m happy you care enough.”

“You’re a good person and you’re my friend, which is why I don’t want to tiptoe around this. What your brother just did was bad. You know that was abusive, right?”

Maybe scoffing at her heartfelt, caring statement wasn’t your best idea, but 'abusive' was such a strong word…right? “He’s my brother, and it was a one-off, I done told you.”

“I’m not sure I believe it when you say that,” she next had the audacity to claim. “You haven’t even been makin’ eye contact with me.”

Oh, you want eye contact? I’ll give you eye contact, bitch.

Your inner tea kettle was shrieking to be taken off the burner, and you could not have cared less. “You callin’ me a liar? Calling my brother an abuser? Rich words from someone I’ve barely known two weeks!”

Before any more was said, Dale inserted himself into the conversation, the thing he said he wouldn’t do. “If you want to keep your conversation private, I suggest not raising your voices.”

Maggie’s arms were crossed. She stared hard at you, but spoke calmly. “Sometimes when things are unhealthy, those looking in from the outside can see it better. And I know what I saw.”

“A sibling fight,” you whispered as gently as you could, feeling so heated. “You, you, y-you saw a sibling fight, those can get nasty.” She’s wrong, she’s wrong, she’s not, she’s not.

“You know what? I don’t have time for your pushback if you don’t have time to consider what somebody who’s concerned about you says, Y/N.”

More shame was added to your plate.

Her leaving shouldn’t have felt so awful, but it did. You covered your eyes and exhaled, as if that would help get rid of the worst of it. You then told God how much you hated this, immediately followed by the opposite, as you cursed yourself a little more, why not? You stupid, stupid idiot.

Not only did you disappoint (and insult) your new friend, but you worried it was another strike against your group. Lori and Carl need this place, it’s safe, it’s good, it’s — you stupid, stupid idiot!

But just like that, Maggie then called your name again as Dale was stepping toward you. You turned to see her facing you once more, no longer walking away.

“If this was a dating situation, what would you think about how he behaved, what he did?” she challenged.

As unfair as you thought the comparison was, the answer hit you in the face. Pun not intended, shit, um… at any rate, having Dale close by helped to ease you into the checkmate that Margaret just finished you with.

You hated your answer.

Because if you saw Shane behaving toward a romantic partner the same way he just behaved with you, you know exactly what you’d think and how you’d react. It wouldn’t be a gray situation, it would be black and white.

More shame for the plate. More guilt. More unease, more dread.

Eyes to the grass, you swallowed your pride. “I’d see it the way you see it.”

Maggie shifted her weight from the right to left, then back again, uncertain. “Will you tell Rick?”

You hesitated, too. After all, you’re an adult. You could be married with children at your age, you couldn’t just—“Tattle that Shane…got huffy, lost his cool?”

“Don’t oversimplify, kiddo, you’re smarter than that,” Dale muttered. He and Shane don’t get on (zero idea why, since Dale and you get on so well!) so this is just more bad press against your brother and more shame for your plate.

“But it’s, it’s not that dramatic, none of this has to be dramatic,” you insisted.

Dale answered again. “Then talking to Rick about it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Rick’s family,” Maggie agreed. “So, he’s seems like the best person to help.”

A child in a grown-up’s body is what you felt like. Helpless, naïve, clueless. You stupid, stupid idiot.

They were right, though, Rick could fix this, he could talk to Shane, figure out what that was. And even better — agreeing with Maggie and Dale would get them off your back! For real, what were they doing, an intervention? Because Shaney poked you a little, gave you a little push?

The words felt sinful, but you said them anyway.“I-I’ll, um, I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to Rick.” And, of course, you were then obligated because you despise dishonesty.

Maggie nodded, then put her thumbs in her pockets. Dale nodded and looked at the two of you, then all around. It was very uncomfortable.

It would be nice if instead of real life, this was a TV show or book, you remember thinking. The audience isn’t usually shown the awkward parts in TV or books, would be a waste of time.

“Y/N,” Maggie spoke, breaking the silence. “We have a raspberry thicket by the south-facing property line.” She pointed in the direction. “Completely overgrown. I’m gonna go back in, finish what I was doin’, but let’s go pick some together later, okay? I’ll come find you in a little while?” She smiled hopefully at you, with some pity thrown in.

Returning the smile, you hoped it made you look put-together and self-aware and confident instead of the shameful, idiotic mess you felt like. “That sounds delicious.”

The moment ended, and she went back toward the house. You heard the door open and clack shut again. A desk onto which you could slam you head would be nice, you remembered thinking.

Instead of a desk, though, Dale put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

He sighed. “Alright, troublemaker. Walk with me? We don’t have to talk, let’s enjoy the sunset awhile.”

Not two steps later, and he apologized for his timing in using the nickname that one month ago he’d christened you with. “And Y/N? What Shane did isn’t your fault.”

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Him

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Today marks one week of being stuck in this bed. Day 7.

He’d failed, that’s it. A weak-ass pussy dipshit who’d failed, and was still stuck in a damned bed after a full week.

Tomorrow, Patricia said he’d be cleared to move out. Not that it mattered much, he still couldn’t do enough to be useful. Not that he wouldn’t; he couldn’t. He’d still be on bed rest.

But hey, at least he’d be able to walk to the woods to find a place to squat and shit by himself now, right? Not even too sarcastic, it would be a step up from feeling like a total invalid.

Carol and Lori were doing a special dinner and cleaning up for the family here to try and thank them for everything. Daryl would just…lay in his bed, he figured. Except, all three of those clucking hens that he wished would stop preening him, Patricia, Carol, and Y/N, kept offering to help him eat with everyone else like they was all some big, happy, family.

This time, it wasn’t that he couldn’t; he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to face them all, not yet, it was too much. He could only take a certain level of shame, and his plate was already full.

The saving grace this past week that stopped him from drowning in his shame was his not seeing the whole kit and kaboodle of them in one sitting. Rick had told him a little over a week ago how it was no problem if Daryl left. Just Daryl, he’s pretty sure nobody else got that little talk.

He’d chosen to stay because of Sophia and Y/N. Sophia needed finding. Still does.

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You

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Carl is the kind of kid who’s double-digits, yet understands when his mother needs her baby again. Lori had snuggled with him on the bed, and both were sound asleep. Not even you knocking on the door or the door being opened/shut woke them.

Which must be why last night, Rick took the opportunity to bring up what Shane did, right there in the room.

It was a blessing that you didn’t end up having to do the hardest part, bringing it up, you suppose. Shane himself had done it for you. All you had to do was fill in the blanks.

“Said he lost control, acted a certain way,” Rick murmured. “What’d that look like?”

You didn’t want to describe it, it’d sound bad… “Shane didn’t say?”

“I’m interested in what you say.”

“Ah, you want to maintain ‘eyewitness sequeskra — eesh, that’s hard to pronounce. Se-quest-ra-tion?”

Rick did that raised brow squint thing he makes when he’s teasing, as if maybe he was about to call you ‘weirdo.’ But then, his expression faded back to serious and he spoke your name. “We both know he hasn’t been himself. What did that look like today?”

Casually, you told him about the way Shane had gotten intimidating. “You know how he’d talk when he needed to do ‘bad cop,’ it was, it was kinda like that.”

“Anything physical?”

Casually, you mentioned the jabs. “He was pokin’, like, with his pointer finger — and he’s strong, so.”

“Right there?” Rick asked, pointing to his sternum in mimic of how you’d gestured.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a bruise?”

Your neck tightened.

Maggie had spotted it when you were berry picking. One had fallen down your shirt, so you’d pulled the fabric forward and down to retrieve it, and she (and you) saw the bruise forming. You stupid, stupid idiot.

It was fine, it wasn’t a big deal. Bruises happen.

Casually, you joked to Rick, “I get bruises from random shit all the time.”

He didn’t smile.

It actually lessened the shame, rather than adding more. You were grateful.

Continuing, he questioned, “He told me about that collarbone grab, and how he went like this?” And when he motioned with his hand, slowly pretending to clap it against the side of your head, you felt your cheeks heat.

“Once.” The insult he’d smacked you with at the same time hurt more, to be honest. Which…made it all click that what Shane did wasn’t as small a deal as you’d been thinking. Mouth shut, you licked your teeth and stared into space. “Did it to himself first, way more than once.”

Rick watched his wife and son sleeping on the bed and asked nothing more for a few minutes.

You picked at the string that stuck out of your arm wrap, feeling stupid, stupid, stupid, shameful, stupid. Per usual, then you missed your mom—and out of nowhere got swept by that flash flood of resentment toward Rick again.

Shane and you had left your mother alone to scope out the latest at the hospital, to figure out how to get Rick safely out without him decompensating. While you two were gone, what happened happened. Sometimes, you assign blame to Rick for it, as if comatose Rick was the reason your ma got killed. Sometimes, you assign her dying to Shane’s change in character, as if that made it better, gave it an excuse.

Grief gets sticky like that.

“Is that all, or is there any more?”

“He went like this,” you mumbled, and grabbed the neck of your shirt like Shane had. “That’s it, all the dirt. Happy?”

“Y/N.”

“…Sorry.”

“I know this wasn’t easy. Thank you,” he told you, putting his arm on your shoulder. You didn’t want it there, so you moved away. Rick was patient, not reacting a bit.

That was last night. This morning felt pretty normal when you woke up. Carol had shared your tent again. Shane was off in his, so you didn’t see him.

Coffee in hand, you were in in the middle of coaxing one of the pullets to waddle toward you by holding out dandelion leaves when Glenn came to see you. You’d figured he wanted to feed the baby chickens, too, or, even better, that there was good news about Maggie. (She likes him!, she told you herself the other day. She just isn’t telling, you know, Glenn himself just yet.)

“Y/N? How are you?”

“I’m warmed up good with my coffee, how about you? Sleep well?” You kept your smile in when you asked, “Talk to Maggie today?”

“Yeah, yeah, I slept fine, yeah, but, um—you’re like, okay, though?”

A flutter of dread. “Glenn, what’s up?”

“What did Shane do to you yesterday? I heard him—”

“—What did you hear, and from whom?” reverberated from the back of your throat as if it were a growl.

“Dude, chill. I’m trying to see if you’re okay.”

The way you tried to keep your voice calm ended up sounding snotty and insincere. Most likely because you were feeling very insincere. How many people saw or heard about what happened? Naked, you felt so naked and exposed! “Where. Did. You. Hear about it?”

“I heard your brother talking to Rick.”

The twist in your gut eased. “Okay, um, um — what did he, w-what, um, what did he, what did he say?” And how did you hear, do they know you heard?”

“I had the headphones in, but the battery died on your mp3 while I was going to the bathroom—”

“—Daryl has the mp3,” you thought aloud.

“He let T-Dog borrow it, who let me borrow it. I-I ate something that didn’t agree with me, so…”

Oh my ffing — “Did you sanitize it when you were done?”

“Dabbed it with hand sanitizer, yeah. Oh, also, Shane asked me to ask you if he could borrow it once it was charged again.” Glenn scratched his neck. “I told him it was on really low battery.”

You swallowed.“So he did see you?”

“He and Rick saw me with the earbuds on and I acted surprised to see them.Shane asked if he could borrow it, I told him it needed to be charged, um, hey, I can see it in your face that you’re worried, please don’t be! Shane believed me,” he assured you. “Trust me, he doesn’t know I heard him. I don’t lie, Y/N, you know that.”

“I do,” you admitted, nodding.

“Anyway, I was walking back from the woods and heard Shane and Rick talking. I figured it was about Sophia, but when I overheard something Shane said, I stopped and listened.” Glenn bent his head down and shuffled his feet. “He said that he messed up, like, snapped. Told Rick that he needed to talk to you and be on your side with whatever you told him. Y/N, he said that he,” your friend lowered to a whisper, “hurt you? Like literally ‘hurt’ you, like, did he hit you?”

You smiled to put him at ease, holding up your hands. “He poked me a little and clapped an ear, weren’t hardly no thing.” Y/N, you stupid, stupid, idiot.

It was probably good that he looked so disappointed and cautious, even if it didn’t feel good to see it in his eyes at the time. “Y/N, don’t…joke about this stuff,” he began. “Why would Shane would have gone to Rick in private if it wasn’t serious?”

“’Cause he’s a drama-king.” You made it sound almost like you were patronizing Glenn, the way you said it.

“No. No, this isn’t ‘no thing,’ you literally just confessed he did hit you — does Rick know about that, too? Shane mentioned something about a collarbone, grabbing your shirt, and shoving you, which is also not ‘no thing.’”

As he was speaking, you’d felt more and more defensive and naked and ashamed. You even had to beat down the urge you had to grab his shirt and shove him back, and prove it wasn’t a big deal!

Then, you considered how he’d take it. The look on his face, at a friend doing that to him. How you’d feel about yourself if you did that. How you’d feel if you saw somebody else do that to him or somebody else. A whole lot of rapid thoughts in the several moments where you figured out a way to respond.

The explanation you made was something you’d tried on everyone so far. “We’re siblings. Stuff like that is normal — did you never see your sisters go at it?”

“No, it’s not! And if it is, it shouldn’t be! Dude, if you saw me,” he countered, speaking louder than you’d heard him make since he cried that the bodies of those at the quarry camp weren’t going to be burned with the walkers. “Doing whatever Shane did with you to one of my younger sisters, what would you think of me? How would you react?”

Glenn’s strong emotional response wasn’t expected, so you stood there, dumb. And you knew exactly how you’d react if you saw him doing to his sisters what Shane did.

And yet, you’re still unsure if everyone else is overreacting because it sounded bad or because it actually was.

Either way, Glenn’s question raised your white flag for you. You surrendered, bowing you head in shame and covering your face with your free hand.

“Glenn, there are three other people who know. Four, if you count Shane.” With your injured arm still secured by the upper arm to your torso, you pointed at him. “Dale, Maggie, and Rick know. Which means already there are three others who know. Now, Glenn, don’t go spreadin’ this business any further, hear?”

You didn’t sound half as intimidating as the words may look, mostly you sounded defeated. Ashamed. “Talk to any one of them, talk to me, but do not breathe a word to, to anybody else or around anybody else.”

This is the part where you started to get a little weepy. “And Lori, she don’t need to know about this right now, she don’t need the stress, and not a word around my Carl, oh my gosh, not him.” This is the part where you got a little beg-gy. “Please. It, it ain’t a bad secret because those that need to know, know. Okay?”

The gavel was brought down when he said, “The way you’re scared of the others finding out makes it seem like a bad one.” He was right. Is right.

He then clasped his hands together. “Listen: I wasn’t about to tell anyone else, since Rick knows. Shane told him himself, dude, and I trust Rick. But, if it was a different case,” he went on, and shook his head as if he was telling you that all bets would be off. “Y/N, remember when Ed was around? How that felt? Dude, you literally threw yourself on him when you saw him hurt Carol.”

The comparison of your brother to Ed Peletier stung and wasn’t fair. And did Glenn forget what Shane did to Ed, to? “Glenn, that ain’t equivalent by any stretch.”

“Maybe not,” he accepted. “But just because it could be worse doesn’t make it not bad. Stuff like this starts small.”

“I know,” you whispered.

You raised the white flag higher, half with the plea that this would be over faster if you did. Lord above, you felt so small, stupid, and defenseless. “You’re right,” you ceded, your gaze reaching no higher than Glenn’s belly. “You’re right. And like you said, it’s, it’s b-bein’ handled, Rick’s got it.” Ugh, stress stutter. “And Shane did a much better job than me when he saw what Ed did, don’t leave out that part.”

“He did. That almost worries me more. Just — if anything like this happens again, or if it starts to feel the same, like — ” He raised his hands. “You’re my best friend. That means I’m on your team. Okay? Even if you end up hating me for it.” He then started to leave, give you some space. “We’re on the same search team today, too. Meet by the mailbox by 9:00, it’s in like 40 minutes.”

“Hey, wait,” you called, not wanting to look him in the eye yet but doing it anyway. And you forced the words out because they were true. “Th-thank you.”

He breathed out heavily and made an awkward (but real) smile.“I love you, dude.”

“I love you, too, man. You’re my best friend.”

The uncomfortable, clumsy encounter with Glenn left you feeling more ashamed than you already were. With Daryl, that day where you’d felt as if your very soul had been stripped bare, the vulnerability hadn’t felt shameful afterward. What you’d felt was so close, unbearably close, it was strange.

But yesterday evening and this morning, the vulnerability sucked, dude. And you’d been stuck in a cycle of shame, anger, and feeling stupid, but without those feelings going away once the truth let out.

The good thing was, the target of your anger began to change during the conversation with Glenn. You weren’t thinking stupid, stupid idiot about yourself anymore, no, it became directed at Shane. The one whose blowing up made this mess. Your view of the mess also became clearer. What happened wasn’t just one sibling bullying a little on the other and it getting out-of-hand it was…it wasn’t something to brush aside, you’ll say that. And you’re scared, you’ll say that, too.

But what you were supposed to do with all of it, that still wasn’t clear.

Still isn’t. Because sooner than later, Shane will know about the baby. Sooner rather than later, the situation with Sophia will end. Sooner rather than later, that little power struggle you’re seeing between him and Rick will come to a head.

Nope. You have no idea what to do and all you feel is shame about it.

Speaking of, Daryl’s been feeling ashamed, too, it’s kinda obvious when you look and talk to the guy. He thinks that because he’s bedbound, he’s useless. Might as well pop in before you go on the search this morning, you’ve got like 15 minutes until then.

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Him

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“Last day in this fine establishment, enjoy it while you can,” Y/N joked.

Yeah, so, he wasn’t in a joking mood and didn’t get why Y/N would be, either. An entire week in this ‘establishment’ was damned shameful. All because he stole (worse, Y/N had told him more than once not to do it) borrowed a horse that got spooked. A dumbass slip and fall. Twice.

If Sophia wasn’t found, it was on his hands.

“Did Carol convince you to come to dinner, yet? Or are you still feelin’ too poorly?”

“Just stop.” He wanted to be left alone, was that so fucking complicated?

And he wanted out of this fucking bed, out of this room, out of this house, off this shit farm, and away from this whole gaggle of dumb fucks.

He wanted Merle back. He wanted Uncle Jesse back.

…He just wanted Sophia back. He'd even prayed about it.

“Sorry, little man, not now. Yeah, nah, he needs some privacy and quiet,” Daryl then heard from out in the hallway.

The door was already closed. He didn’t even hear it shut.

“No, his head is still okay, Carl, his cognition is prolly better than the two of us put together. The man’s healin’ well, thanks be to God,” Y/N cheerfully chirped like a songbird. "Wanna visit the baby chicks again?"

More shame slithered on over, hissing at him for how he’d been a dick to Y/N, of all people.

Daryl tried to rub his chest to get rid of the tugging feeling in Y/N’s direction while trying to shut up the voice in his head that was screaming for a goddamn cigarette so he could smoke and dig the lit end into his skin.

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You

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So, that was a bust. Daryl kinda snapped at you. It sucked. Felt really awful, not gonna lie. First your brother, now the mangy hick.

Come to think of it, it's actually more on brand for Daryl to have done that, given you literally just referred to him as ‘mangy hick.’

Ugh, you wanna cry again. You wanna run back to Dale the way a little kid runs to their dad. Maybe this time you'd also run into a desk to slam your head against on the way?

Later would have to suffice for finding that desk, however, because now, there’s work to do.

“Aight, let’s roll. We’re headin’ south, looking around a small neighborhood. Tomorrow, Shane and Andrea will be hitting what we don’t cover,” T-Dog announces. “Ready to head out, y’all?”

“Head on back to your ma, okay?” you tell Carl, pecking a kiss on his head and patting your finger along the chick he's still carrying. Carl had walked you to the mailbox, it's his third and probably last ‘big trip’ of the day. He’s wearing Shane’s police baseball hat. “See you later, punk, I love you."

“Yeah, man, all set. Bye, Carl.” Glenn stands up from his crouched position by the mailbox where he was waiting.

You adjust the first aid kit in your backpack, then ease it on and snap the chest clip in place. “Ready, Teddy.”

T-Dog rubs his hands together. “Then let’s roll. See if we can’t bring Sophia back for this big dinner her mama’s got planned tonight.”

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50 notes · View notes

wizardfrog69 · 11 months

Note

Hello~I hope you're doing fine! I would like to request daza as a brother figure i with a teenage gn!reader(or fem!reader both is fine) where he saw a little blood on their sleeve when reader is asleep and then finds out they have sh scars

Please feel free to ignore if you're not comfortable with this topic.

I'm still sick but I feel better than yesterday.

I do feel comfortable writing for this topic, and I think mental health awareness is a great and important thing, especially with younger people.

It's okay to not be okay, and it's okay to want and/or need help. We all need help sometimes. The challenging part is always asking for help.

Thank you for the request!

'•.¸♡it's just a small cut♡¸.•'

Bother figure Dazai x teenage reader (platonic)

Angst/comfort

Tw! Self harm, depression like symptoms

If this subject is triggering in any way, please do not read. Your mental well-being is more important.

Masterlist

Enjoy!

You walked out of the bathroom, your arm stung a bit, but you tried to pay it no mind. There was not a lot of blood. You whipped away what you could, so no blood should have gone through your clothes, but you were mistaken.

There was no reason to bother Dazai over something so small and irrelevant, so you never bothered him with anything. You were only overreacting, being dramatic, right? Maybe you felt horrible, like something was eating away at you from the inside, and no matter how many times you tried to claw it out, it would never leave, but it was not that serious. There is no reason for you to cry over this stupid shit. There is no reason to keep... there is no, there is nothing anymore.

Thinking exhausted you, everything did. Who knew existing could be so tiring. You lay down in bed, wishing for all your thoughts to finally go away, but they wouldn't. They kept on haunting you until you fell asleep.

It was late, later than usual, but Dazai finally came back. It was dark and quiet, so he assumed you had fallen asleep. He walked into your bedroom to see if you were asleep after knocking on your door. When he saw you asleep, he was glad to see you safe and sound, that thought did not last long as he saw a red spot on your sleeve. Seeing this sight nerved him, he did the only thing he thought of doing at the moment, making sure you are alright.

Dazai walked up to your sleeping form, pulled your sleeve away, and examined the scar on your forearm. He left the room as soon as he entered, thinking about you, if you were okay or not.

You woke up to the smell of Franch toast flooding every corner of your room. With a wave of tiredness, you stood and left for the kitchen. 'Good morning!' Dazai chirped. 'Morning.' You yawned back. 'So, what did you do?' 'Hm?' 'You never make breakfast, and you always whine about even being near the stove.' 'Oh come on, I've made food before!' 'Ya, once, when we first met. And you're burning the bread.' 'Oh!' Dazai quickly looked back to the pan and managed to scrape the burning piece of bread from the pan and lay another piece in its place.

A plate filled with burnt and semi burnt French toast was placed onto the table. Dazai handed some things to add to the toast to make it more edible. You resorted to honey. He sat in front of you, a look of worry coming over him. 'What's wrong?' You asked, confused. 'I know you are hurting yourself. Could you please tell me what is wrong?' His usual enthusiastic and joking tone turned into a serious one. That was why he made the toast. 'I don't want to talk about it, not yet anyway.' 'Okay, you don't have to, but if you need to talk about anything, I'm here. I'm here to help you with whatever you need.' 'Yeah...' You sighed to yourself, you were not ready to talk to him but you wanted to try.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

I hope you are okay and that everything will turn out fine.

Sorry, I've been somewhat busy and distracted, so it [the thing I've wrote] might sound odd or different.

Have a wonderful day/night and remember that there are people out there who care about you, maybe they have not said so, or it doesn't feel that way but I can promise you there is atleast one person (or animal) out there who cares about you. :)

-love, Az

#bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #dazai fluff #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x you #dazai

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fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks · 7 months

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Things I noticed the nth time watching Nimona:

Knight armour can get sliced through like nobody's business (Balister's arm), but can take a laser hit without serious, body-altering consequences (Director hitting Ambrosius with a laser made from the same one that apparently has the power to wipe out half the realm, or kill an Immortal being who doesn't feel severe pain from an arrow wound)?

...is this because Ambrosius' armour was made to be more protective than Balister's?

"She manipulated BOTH of us." Ambrosius says this about Nimona, who he had very few interactions with aside from her very blatantly fucking shit up for the institute. How did she manipulate HIM?

I guess it probably makes sense when you consider he was going to arrest the director, implying that he believed Bal AND Nimona, but I dunno. The little rat in my head started running on its brain-powering wheel at all the possible fanfic plots this could lead to.

Nimona as Ambrosius grabbed the Gloreth statue when they fell to the ground.

On the one hand, this could just be actor!Nimona putting dramatic emphasis on how even in death, the leaders of the realm will cling to their hopes and beliefs, or the golden boy finally getting to join his ancestor.

On the other hand, we could make it deliciously angsty (yum yum) and say it is Nimona's personal desire to grab the statue of Gloreth for reasons such as: taking down the monster-killer image of her former friend out of anger and sadness because she never wanted that image to be so true in representing one of the few people who ever cared about her even briefly;

OR, While trying to think about how she would act if she were actually dying, she reaches for the closest thing to a friend that she has, but this is her staging a false death, as that particular friendship was false so this is just fitting, isn't it?;

OR, They wanted it to spread a message that with the fall of the director, would come the fall of the corrupt system they live in, as well as the fall of this narrow-minded view of both Nimona and Gloreth's story as well as Gloreth and Nimona themselves.

Nimona freaking out about the arrow in their leg in the comic vs Nimona treating it like a little scrape not to be worried about in the movie.

This is really interesting to me. In the comic, it's played up for humor like Nimona is almost overreacting, then having Bal take care of her because he does care about her. This shows it as a bit silly, but so very meaningful.

Then you have the movie where Balister is freaking out and it's kind of funny because clearly Nimona is relatively fine about it, so he doesn't really need to make a big deal out of it. Then he helps her and is still very careful about it like with anyone else's arrow wound, and asks her questions so he can better understand them. Again so very important.

I love both versions of these scenes, I just am so curious about why they made such a drastic change.

I love this movie so freaking much. (I knew that already, but it bears saying for the thousandth time. It's just so fucking good.)

For this last one:

TW: mention of police brutality (discussed as a theme in the movie, nothing specific outside of the Nimona movie)

"He's got a weapon." It's not a weapon. It's a phone. But Todd (and who knows how many of the other knights) didn't choose to see it as anything other than what the director told him it was, and destroyed it as he was trained to do. This screams messaging about the stupid, dangerous, and harmful actions of too many police officers who don't check the situation for themselves before acting on "information" they gathered from insufficient data and/or unreliable sources, and combine that with profiling to make decisions that so often end up being harmful and even fatal to others.

#nimona movie #nimona #theories #headcanons #things i noticed #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #angst

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onceonafullmoon · 10 months

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You only cut me when you scream in the mirror

Clavis x GN! Reader (Angst)

Tw! Self-hatred (Clavis), emotional manipulation and toxic relationships

You hate it when he’s like this, when he gets in his stupid little moods of random envy or insecurity and pushes it onto you. And to think, you thought you were the one overreacting, that you were the one reading too far into it.

-----

You resist the urge to scream in frustration as you see Clavis suavely talking up some noble woman, piercing yellow eyes making sure to catch on yours before sliding over to the beauty next to him, pulling some witty comment out of his ass to make her laugh.

And Yves, sweet Yves, shoots you a look from across the room, used to this same song and dance

(like everyone is, embarrassingly), but nonetheless concerned for your well being.

But you simply smile stiffly, ready to fix your own mess of a relationship.

He won’t go any further than flirtation, you know he won’t. To his core, Clavis is a loyal person and you know that.

Still.

You hate it when he’s like this, when he gets in his stupid little moods of random envy or insecurity and pushes it onto you.

And to think, you thought you were the one overreacting, that you were the one reading too far into it.

Yeah… after the third time you were quick to catch on.

And after that…

Well, you were always a coward when it came to confrontation.

“But…” You think as you down the last of the champagne in the flute before setting the empty glass on a lone table. “That ends tonight.”

And it’s a miracle you think, that somehow as you make your way towards him, your face stays in a completely neutral state.

Perhaps that might have been due to Sariel’s training, perhaps it was simply your own willpower.

Either way, you glide towards him as surely as a hawk swoops down to clamp on their prey. Bits of their conversation come to you in chunks.

“…my Clavis, you really shouldn’t say things like that.”

“It’s my duty as one of the most beloved princes to take care of the people, isn’t it, lovely lady?”

Ugh. Typical.

Firmly yet politely, you cut into their conversation, a fake smile plastered on your face.

“Well, “most beloved prince” it just so happens that the “people” are in need of your assistance.”

You give an apologetic look to the woman he was talking to. Both for interrupting her conversation and for Clavis dragging her into his bullshit.

She frowns, clearly wanting to object, but Clavis answers for her.

“Well, what kind of beloved prince would I be then if I couldn’t help?” Clavis says, that obnoxious smirk on his face making you want to smack him.

Instead of dignifying him with a response, you gesture for him to follow you until you find yourselves outside of the ball room, in the foyer sparsely populated now due to the start of the ball itself.

“Pulling me away from the party for a tryst? My, how scandalous…”

Here at last, surrounded only by Clavis and your own growing anger you let loose.

“Are you serious right now? Clavis what is your deal?!” You question, trying to stay calm, but bursting at the end.

“Hmm? Care to enlighten me on my crimes?” He says, almost mockingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, why are you out flirting with other women?”

“What? Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m pissed, why are you acting so immature?” You frown, already feeling tears building up despite your attempts to stay calm. “You’re actively trying to piss me off, and I don’t even know why.”

“Why can’t you just… communicate with me?” You ask, regaining some control.

Clavis’s usual smile strains, his eyes creasing in a way that tells you he isn’t feeling as great as he makes it out to be.

“You really should’ve known better than to be with me then. You’ve known I’m this type of person.”

You grit your teeth, annoyed at the same pattern you both find yourselves falling into.

“You’re always like this, you’re always saying you’re a horrible person and then when you do something shitty you say it’s because you’re a horrible person.”

“Because I am.” He says, finally dropping that stupid smile.

Well, wasn’t that a fetching excuse?

That he was born to fuck up and that any other notion of becoming better was some half thought, desperate grab for attention, and that you were the one who was delusional for thinking there was even a chance at something better.

You resist the urge to slap him, throat growing tight in pure frustration.

“You’re fucking not. You’re just a self fulfilling prophecy, just hurting people you love in hopes that they’ll stop loving you, but they won’t.”

“What would you know about it?” He accuses, eyes narrowing, making your own blaze up in anger.

Anger that despite everything you both had been together, that he would still continue to belittle you as if you knew nothing of him.

“Everything! I know everything about it, you ass!” You finally exclaim, tearing up again.

“I know why Yves still bakes your sorry ass cookies even after a nasty prank, I know why Sariel still lets you go along with your half baked plans, and I know why Chevalier still calls you by your actual name–”

“Don’t fucking bring him into this.” He snaps, uncharacteristically of him, yellow eyes piercing into you.

You almost flinch, unused to his own swearing and tone, but double down on your words, voice wavering slightly.

“…you and your stupid inferiority complex. That’s not the point. The point is that people will always love you even when you push them away.”

You breathe out shakily.

“Even I’m still standing here yelling at you for fucks sake. Even when I could have walked away because I… even I…”

You stumble here, feeling all the words you want to say tangle in your throat, choking you up and sealing your mouth shut.

Clavis looks at you, pulling that same troubled smile on his face.

“Heh…you can’t even bring yourself to say it.”

That’s not fair. That’s not fucking fair and he knows it.

Since when does not being able to say the words “I love you” negate any of the actual feelings and time and effort you put into this relationship?

Since when did everything you’ve ever done and felt amount to nothing because you simply couldn’t find the words to say it?

“…fuck you…” You whisper, wavering on the words, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “H-how is any of this- my fault?”

“…”

“You- you who can’t even take responsibility… so wrapped up in your own self hatred to see the pain you cause… how can you say– say that it was my fault?”

You don’t see the look on his face, too busy wiping away your tears.

In fact, you only look up when you hear the tell tale sound of his clothes swishing as he turns to leave.

“…You’re so obsessed with the idea that you aren’t enough that you strive to make it a fact.” You mutter, suddenly feeling more tired than you’ve felt ever since the day you became Belle.

He pauses at this, maybe feeling some sliver of remorse, guilt even. Or maybe he was going to leave like he always did when things got too tough.

It surprises you, at how much you don’t care anymore.

Well, maybe Rio was right when he said that you deserved better, even if you took it as a joke before.

But it was your turn to leave now, and you sighed as you turned your back to walk away before pausing once more.

“…don’t blame me if I grow tired of waiting for you to fix yourself. I’ve already tried, and it’s about time you tried too.”

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince angst #ikepri angst #ikemen prince clavis #ikepri clavis #clavis lelouch #clavis x reader #ikemen prince x reader #ikepri x reader #dont take this the wrong way clavis is my little meow meow #I just gotta make him suffer a bit #but I love him I swear

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tobi-draws · 9 days

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TW!!! SH!!! VENT!!!

Do not read if this could be triggering!!! This is merely me trying to get my frustration out!!! It's not a big deal, so feel free to skip!!!

People online always say that your experience with mental health issues is valid, but it's hard for me to take myself seriously when I overreact so much. I just accidentally, most likely permanently, ruined like all my favorite clothes. Which, yeah, that sucks... but my reaction to it was stupid. There was absolutely no good reason for me to relapse. I'm starting to think my only mental illness is just being way too fucking sensitive. I broke a fucking 89 day streak over some God damn clothes. I feel so pathetic. And what's worse is that I want to do it again so bad, over stupid fucking clothes!

#vent post #vent #mental illness #actually mentally ill #self h@rm #tw s3lf harm #self destruction #depressing shit

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th3sp4rr0w · 6 months

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Day Fourteen

A03 Link <- Starts at Chapter/Day One for those just joining us :))

Prompts For Day Fourteen Bleeding Through Bandages/Field Medicine/No Anesthesia

Alt. Prompt For Day Fourteen Human Shield

Prompts Used for Day Fourteen All

Tw's; Blood, Injury, Dubious Medical Accuracy

Chapter fourteen under the cut :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The nets burned as the agent dragged them to their doom.

Danny held Jason’s hand as they tried to scramble to follow; each time they had tried to get their footing, they’d catch on the netting, making things worse. It was like someone was laughing at their struggle, finding amusement as they desperately tried to make it even slightly more bearable for themselves.

He couldn’t help but blame himself for Jason being here. The boy said himself that he only came to find him because they were twins and he was so, so stupid for running. He thought back to the panic-filled night before; meeting with the spirit of the city, Nightwing and Batgirl, the bomb ass cookies Agent A made, and felt he may have... overreacted. It’s not like they actually said that ghosts were dangerous, and he could’ve explained and then they wouldn’t be in this situation-

The agent bumped them against the wall. They shouted and jerked to no avail.

Did he bring the agents to Gotham? Were they there for him? Were they tracking him more closely than he’d thought they were?

He didn’t know what to think anymore. Even if they had been in Gotham beforehand, he’s nearly positive the bats would’ve figured out a way to keep Jason safe. It was his fault Jason had gotten captured. Why hadn’t he just run when he had been offered the chance?

At least he was good at doing things like worrying about food and water while they were trapped here.

He tried his best to remember what twists and turns they took. He wasn’t sure about the other boy, but he sure as hell was planning on getting out of here eventually.

The agent abruptly stopped at a room, knocking twice before opening the door. They were shoved inside where two other agents were waiting.

They each grabbed one twin by the shoulders, wrenching their hands apart. They each gave their own protest, Jason’s a bit more violent as he kicked, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t say anything. They barely looked at them as they held them up in the nets.

He debated trying to use his ectoblasts, but he’d seen ghosts go inside these nets before. Every one of them that tried to use their powers-

He vaguely saw Jason’s hand glowing. Ohnononono, fuck-

“Robin-!” he shouted, too late. He tried to blast the guy holding him.

He immediately started screaming as the net electrocuted him. He winced in sympathy.

The agent was unscathed. He needed to figure out what this net was one day, but he’d never been able to snag one.

The agent laughed. “Having fun there, little ghostie?” he taunted as Jason writhed in pain in his grip. “Like our tech? Makes catching you little shits so much easier-”

“That’s enough, Agent L.”

Agent J was back, holding two different collars. They went up to Jason first, feeding it through the net before getting it around his neck. He tried to struggle, but after getting blasted by the net, he didn’t seem to have much energy. Agent J secured it around his neck, messing with the settings for a bit before moving on.

Danny watched out of the corner of his eye as Jason sagged in their grip. They started pulling him out of the net as the agent walked up to him holding the collar.

“Phantom,” they greeted. “I see that we finally got the better of you. How’s it feel knowing that us ‘basement dwellers’ managed to best you?”

Danny snapped his teeth at the agent’s fingers. They laughed vaguely, grabbing him by his jaw.

“Don’t play with me, little ghost,” the voice was enough to send chills down his spine, “I control you. I control your life here. We have another subject; I’m sure the queen wouldn’t mind if there was a little accident with one of you that left you full ghost.”

They leaned in further. “And it wouldn’t be you. No, that’d be too easy; it’d be your little friend over there, struggling with his powers. And don’t think I haven’t picked up the resemblance,” they whispered in his ear. “I know you two are family of some sort.”

Danny froze. The agent chuckled. “That’s what I thought,” they muttered, low enough that only he could hear them. They secured the collar quickly.

“Alright, boys,” Agent J said. “The queen wants us to report to her before all of our experiments; we can’t touch them further until we get approval.” Danny could hear the eye roll as they turned towards the door. “We’ll have to comply. Oh,” they looked over their shoulder, smirking as the agent holding Danny’s net dumped him out next to Jason on the floor. “And we had to shove Phantom’s head into the counter to get his collar on. He was being quite belligerent today,” they said.

The agent had him by the head before he could register the words, slamming his head hard into the counter. He yelped as the agents laughed brightly. They left, talking amongst themselves.

He held his head a few minutes before pulling his fingers away. They were slicked with green.

He heard Jason groan and turned, finding him sitting up. “Shit,” he muttered as he made his way over.

“Phantom,” he muttered, “You’re bleeding. Let me take a look-”

“We use codenames alone?” he asked.

Jason leveled him with an unimpressed look. “Phantom, we’re in a random ass room that we haven’t checked for bugs or cameras yet. We assume they have them until we clear the room,” he said lowly.

He nodded, then got an idea.

Apologetic-Guilty-Reassurance-Understanding

Jason jumped. “I forgot we could do that,” he muttered. Then-

Surprise-Scared-Determined

Danny smiled at him. “See, Rob, isn’t that so much better? We don’t have to worry about getting overheard.”

Jason smiled back. Reassurance-Okay-Determined

He took him by the head. “Water?” He asked lowly.

He tried to stick a hand in his chest, but when he went to go intangible to do it, the collar shocked him.

Pain-Surprise-Hindered

He pushed out the emotions before he could think about what he was doing.

Alarm-Surprise-Concerned

“I’m okay,” he wheezed. “Stupid collar. I can’t get the water,” he said. “It’ll be fine,” he continued. “It’s your hand we need to worry about.”

Jason looked over to his hand. It was still mangled. “What about it?” he asked.

“That’s going to heal in about, oh, 5, maybe 6 hours. If it heals like that, it’s gonna be a bitch to deal with,” he said.

Jason winced. “Yeah, sounds like it,” he said.

He pulled his hand up close to his chest, beginning to use his other hand to ghost over the bruised flesh.

“Here, Robin, let me-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the other boy had pushed his pointer finger’s joint back into its socket. Jason inhaled sharply before letting it out, moving the finger slightly to make sure it was in its proper place.

Danny looked at him, stunned. “Dude-” he breathed.

“Shut it,” Jason responded. Pain-Determined-Stubborn

Danny raised an eyebrow and glared. Stupidity-Disbelief-Impressed

Jason looked at him, smirking a bit. He set another finger. Pain-Determined-Smug

Danny shook his head. Jason breathed through his first aid.

It wasn’t like this wasn’t anything Danny himself hadn’t done before. He’d, arguably, done worse; he had to set his leg by himself one time. That sucked. It sucked even more when they had to re-break it because he didn’t do it right.

After Jason was done checking and setting the bones and joints in his hand (Danny tried not to shudder in sympathy thinking about it), they searched the room. Danny had checked his pouches, but none of the medical supplies Jason had looted from the van had ended up in them.

They eventually found a half-assed med kit in one of the cupboards. The closest thing to finger splints they had was popsicle sticks and tape, but they were better than nothing.

As much as Jason had tried to do that part alone, Danny didn’t let him. Almost every finger was broken; Danny splint them together using the sticks, then wrapped it all in medical tape. He did it as tight as he could get it, and considering Jason hadn’t stopped him, he assumed he was doing something right.

Getting past the fingers, they weren’t sure what to do about the bones in his hand; eventually, they settled on wrapping it and his wrist tightly with an ace bandage and putting the wrist brace in the kit on carefully over the whole thing.

Having finished with Jason’s hand, he went on to treat the cut on Danny’s head. He tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but a few seconds of Disapproval-Disappointment-Determined and he folded like a deck of cards. Robin instructed him to soak a cotton ball in a bit of rubbing alcohol, which he gently grabbed from him and used to clean the cut. He didn’t let him waste a bandage to put on a cut that was going to be gone in 20 minutes, but he could admit it was probably smarter to clean the wounds before they could get infected.

He still didn’t know if they could get infections to begin with. He assumed so; but it’s not like he’d ever actively tried. It just never happened to him.

It was somewhat calming tending to each other’s wounds. It was... kind of nice, having someone to check over as intently as they checked him. It was nice knowing that he wasn’t alone for once.

Yeah, he had Tucker and Sam, and yeah, sometimes they got a scrape or a bruise. And while he still looked those over, cleaning them methodically and placing bandages over them, they weren’t... he wasn’t setting their bones. He wasn’t wrapping gauze and bandages over their torsos.

It was kind of nice having someone else with a serious injury to look after. He always felt like such a burden being the only one.

“Hey, pull your shirt down for me,” Jason muttered.

“What?” Danny asked.

“I dressed your chest and back wounds earlier,” he clarified. “I want to check on them since we were thrown around a bit.”

Danny blinked. “You dressed my wounds while I was unconscious?”

Embarrassment-Flustered-Indignity

“You were unconscious. I wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna stay that way!” He hissed.

Danny snorted, despite the situation. “Fine,” he started peeling off the first half of the suit.

It stuck to skin about halfway through. Jason helped him as best as he could with one hand, unsticking the suit from the wound.

The patch jobs were gone, which caused Jason to tut. Danny shrugged; he didn’t know why, if you transformed with gauze in ghost form, they’d stay going human, but it didn’t do it the other way around. He assumed it had something to do with the clothing thing.

Jason wrapped him up again, even as he actively bled through. It took a few layers, but eventually they stayed white instead of going green in some spots.

Danny stared at him. Grateful-Satisfaction-Appreciation

Jason paused, smiling a little. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Danny looked at him. Parts of his body glowed faintly green all the time, but it was the radioactive green of the pits. The J on his cheek was the brightest, drawing your attention in. He shuddered thinking about it.

His white hair was fluffy, defying gravity just like his own. The only difference was the small patch of jet black in the front of his head.

He thought back to Sam gossiping at the lunch table. It really wasn’t that long ago that the news dropped about poor little Jason Todd, beaten half to death by the Joker. Danny wasn’t sure if it was comforting that it was Robin that the Joker beat, or not.

He was suddenly extremely grateful that none of the gory details had ever been made public.

Jason looked up at him. “Do I have something on my face?” he asked as he finished securing the bandages around Danny’s chest and back.

“What?”

He laughed lightly, pulling his hand away from his work. “You just, you’re kinda staring a bit,” he said.

Danny flushed green. “Sorry!” He squeaked. “It’s just... man, I can’t believe we were twins the whole time. My friends back home are gonna freak.

“I get it,” he said, dusting off his hand as best as he could. “My family didn’t really have time to react, but my grandfather figure looked like he was going to pass out,” he said.

They kept their voices down as they chatted and laughed quietly, describing their friends and-

“Man, my sister’s the best,” he said. “I’m not about to say her name, obviously, but she’s just... she’s great. She’s always been there for me, no matter what stupid thing I was getting myself into that time,” he smiled lightly. “I’ve missed her these last few days.”

Jason nodded. “You really only got found out a few days ago, huh?”

Danny’s smile turned sad. Melancholy-Nostalgic-Pining

Jason winced. “Sorry-”

“No, no,” Danny said, trying to be reassuring. “It’s just... yeah, it was only a few days ago,” he said. “I still don’t know how they figured it out,” his voice was a bit lower than it had been the whole time they chatted.

Jason was quiet for a moment. “I-”

The door swung open. Jason closed his mouth with a faint click! as the agent walked in with an air of superiority.

Her goggles were pulled up, pinning her hair back and out of her face like a head band. She had a scar that ran from somewhere in her hairline down her face, going through her right eye and ending on the underside of her jaw. She had a grin on her face.

“I see you maggots found the medical supplies,” she said dryly.

She grabbed the box. “You’re lucky the madame asked us to bandage you, anyways,” she hissed. “Otherwise... well.”

Danny saw something in her pocket glint in the light. Danger-Behave-Worry

Jason tried not to look at him, Reassurance-Understanding-Calm

She looked between them a moment. “You things truly are a marvel,” she muttered. She put the box up on the counter and grabbed each of their jaws, pulling them until they were side by side. She was grinning. “Just think of what we’ll be able to do if we can find out how to do this for ourselves,” she said, awed. “We could send a few into that hellscape the doctors’ opened up.”

Danny tried to keep calm, attempting not to send his overwhelming fear over to Jason.

He could feel Jason’s Questioning-Confusion-Concern .

She looked between them for a moment. “I will take pictures of your patch jobs here and note down that you were inteligent enough to do it on your own,” she said, dropping Jason’s jaw to fish out a camera. “I’ll be back in an hour to take notes. Although...” she faked contemplating something for just a moment. “Madame did say she wanted to see how your wounds healed from start to finish,” she said. She looked at Danny. “Oh well. Guess I’m just going to have to show her,” she pulled the silver thing Danny had seen in her pocket out.

She flipped open the knife, trailing it against his face. He tried not to flinch back.

Anger-Impulse-Determined

Reassurance-Scolding-Still

He glared at Jason a moment, who was about to intervene. He subtly shook his head. The other boy scowled.

The agent mumbled something under her breath before she dug the knife’s tip into his cheek and ripped it open. She smiled a bit, bringing her camera up and taking a picture of the oozing green thing.

Jason stared the entire time. Danny kept up the wave of Reassurance-Scolding-Still until she finally went to grab the med kit, cleaning the wound before she placed a bandage on it. She kept complaining that if it were up to her, she wouldn’t waste supplies, but, “The madame wants, so she shall have”.

She took pictures of her patch job. She pulled down Danny’s suit again, taking pictures of the bandages there. She photographed his scars.

“Give me your hand,” she said as she turned to Jason.

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Hand, now.”

“I’m not a fucking dog,” his voice was dangerous.

Alarm-Unease-Concern

Jason barely looked at Danny. The agent stood in front of him for just a moment longer.

“I remember you,” she said. “The little thing parading around as a hero that threw flaming bottles at my vans,” she grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him up to her level, “You’re already caught, dog. You’re already shoved in a fucking crate-”

Jason drove his knee into her stomach.

Danny had almost forgotten that being Robin meant he had training from the bat. He actually managed to get the upper hand for a moment, and despite knowing they were in danger for it, he couldn’t help but feel... impressed.

He couldn’t help it as he watched him fight. Impressed-Inspired-Defensive was all he could send out.

He knew it wouldn’t last as the shock wave coursed through him. Following his twin’s footsteps, he tried not to cry out. He had a feeling they would’ve accused them of faking it anyways.

How did they know to use pain to control them if they thought they couldn’t feel it?

He convulsed a bit and he vaguely registered Jason doing the same as the collars lit up. The agent got back up, grabbing Jason by the hair once more. “What part of you’ve been caught,” she hissed, dragging him over to the counter, “Don’t you fucking understand, dog?”

She slammed the back of his head on the edge, over and over. Lazarus green blood spilled from the wound it created.

Danny kept quiet. It’s not that he didn’t want to get involved. He knew if he did, he would make Jason’s punishment that much worse.

That was how this facility ran. Any of them, really. The threat from earlier buzzed in his ears.

“I’m sure the queen wouldn’t mind if there was a little accident with one of you that left you full ghost.”

He probably should’ve let Jason know. He tried, through the link, but that’s not really what that was for. It was more for vague emotions and messages. It wasn’t exactly as refined as to send out a message of “these people are fucking crazy and want to murder you dead dead”.

He settled for Danger-Alarm-Warn as Jason tried to wrap a hand around the agent’s wrist.

“Careful, ghost,” she whispered. “There are far worse experiments to be a part of,” she said, leaning in close.

That led them both into a loop of Scared-Alarm-Danger.

She looked at them for a moment before throwing Jason down and kicking his injured hand. She picked up her camera, checking it over. She hummed before grabbing Jason’s hair once more, positioning his head for a good angle and snapping a photo. She roughly grabbed his arm, lifting it up before grabbing his hand and jostling it for a second, causing the boy to hiss through his teeth.

“Oh, don’t try for sympathy points now,” she said as she gripped his hand tighter. “We’re long past that, mutt.”

She laughed. She fucking laughed. She gripped his wrist tightly and took the pictures she wanted.

She looked at them for a moment before going on her knees. As soon as he was released from her bruising grip, Jason scooted back towards Phantom. She laughed before snapping a photo.

She left the room, promising to be back in an hour, and left them with one final message;

“And you’d better not dress his head wound or I swear to God and the heavens above, I will make you feel actual pain.”

The door closed harshly behind her. Danny immediately started looking over the wound on Jason’s head.

“Dude,” he said, “I need to-”

“Why didn’t you let me do anything?”

Danny paused and checked the link. Now that she was gone, Angry-Tired-Overwhelm was all that was on Jason’s side of the link.

“Robin, I-”

“I could’ve done something. We could've done something!” He insisted.

Danny pursed his lips. “Do you really think this place is bugged?”

He heard Jason hiss as he prodded at his wound. “She seemed surprised we were patching each other up, so maybe, maybe not? We’d have to check,” he said, slightly out of breath by the end. Danny nodded.

“Phantom? What are you not telling me?”

Danny inhaled slightly. “Look, Rob, I just. I don’t want to say anything unless they can’t overhear it,” he said. “Otherwise, they’ll have another thing against us. We need all the cards we can get,” he whispered. “And for fuck’s sake, stop mouthing off! I know, it’s tempting, but please resist,” he said. He tried to wipe away green blood from the wound on Jason’s head to no avail. “For me?” he added.

Jason was silent. “Okay,” he said eventually. “But for the record-” he winced, “This sucks.”

Danny snorted. “You got your head beat into a countertop. I’ll bet it sucks,” he said.

Jason snorted back. “How’s the cut on your cheek?”

“Stings. That’s weird, it usually goes away by now,” he said, touching his fingers lightly to his bandage.

Jason turned around, looking at him. “You’ve already bled through it,” he muttered.

Danny shrugged. “I dunno why. Let's check for bugs or whatever, yeah?”

The other boy nodded and started with the underside of the counter.

The room was bare, all white with bright, florescent lighting. The cabinets underneath the counter held various equipment, none of which (according to Jason) held any sort of audio recording devices. The top cabinets, where they found the med kit, held some cotton balls and several vials of unmarked substances. Danny didn’t know a lot about this sort of thing; He’d never gotten kidnapped by a rogue intending on torturing him... in this context at least. He had a healthy amount of fear in it.

As far as either boy could tell, there were no bugs or cameras. They did decide to stick to code names, but they were a bit looser with what they were willing to say.

Danny told him of Agent J’s threat.

He was quiet. “I think it’s an intimidation tactic,” he said slowly. “If it were actually true, they would’ve already gotten rid of you.”

Danny looked at him, startled. “They want to observe halfa’s right now, right? Why wouldn’t they get rid of the weaker one? Not that you’re weak!” he backtracked.

Jason waved him off. “Because I’m easier to control. It’s pretty obvious I’m still developing,” he said, green slightly flushing his cheeks, “And it’d be a perfect opportunity to observe what any future replicates would go through in terms of power development and things.”

He nodded, “Makes sense. But I don’t want to risk it anyways,” he looked Jason in the face, “I don’t want to lose you. I just met you, and I like having you around,” he joked.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, “We should keep that in the back of our minds. These people don’t seem like the type to make a threat just to make a threat. We need to bide our time, be on our best behavior, see how things run,” he cut himself off with a yawn.

Danny yawned after. They both looked at each other. They giggled.

“Sleep first?”

Jason nodded. “Sleep first.”

Danny scooted closer to Jason, who’d started messing with the latch on his cape. He helped him take it off and spread it across them evenly, being careful not to hit his hand during the process.

He lay Jason down on his chest as he used his own arm as a pillow.

It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable , but what were they going to do? It’s not like Danny had any energy drinks on him, and he was exhausted. He could imagine Jason felt a similar way.

Jason dropped off first. His emotions evened out to nothing and, although he didn’t breathe while he was asleep, he looked more at peace.

Danny followed soon after as he stroked down Jason’s arm, attempting to soothe them both into a fitful sleep.

Being cuddled up against someone somewhat familiar after days of being pressed up against complete strangers was... nice. It soothed something in his core in a way that only Jazz had managed to do before. He suspected it was the familial bond thing; they may not have known each other most of their lives, but they were together now. In a way, wasn’t that what mattered?

He just... had to believe they’d make it out of here. Jason was Robin; of course, Batman would go to hell and back for any of his birds. That’s what he was known for online (and what made Danny convinced the whole Gotham vigilante clan was a myth). They just needed some time. They’d come.

They wouldn’t be coming for him, but it didn’t matter. Tucker and Sam would notice he was missing, and they’d probably think to search the GIW labs they’ve been tracking all over the country. They’d... they wouldn’t forget about him just because he wasn’t right there. They loved him. Jazz did, too, she wouldn’t let their parents’ disdain for ghosts and ecto-contaminated beings infect her love for her baby brother. He hoped.

There was once a time he’d had an unshakable belief his parents loved him. Even as Phantom, he thought they might disown him and kick him out. He never thought that, if they thought he was Phantom, that they’d...

He still remembered what the bat felt like against his head. How he felt, not only physically, but emotionally when it happened. He forced himself to stop thinking about it; Jason was right next to him, and he was asleep, plus they never found a trash can while searching the room. If he was going to be sick, it was going to be on the floor and only the ancients knew if they would clean it up, or if they’d get... creative.

He hoped they would never get creative.

Sitting there thinking was absolutely boring. It was like watching paint dry, but he’d rather be bored than wake Jason; the poor boy needed this.

He shifted slightly. He thought about the agents and something in his core flared. That was when something strange happened.

He felt it get soothed. It was like something minty cool had been rubbed on his core, and usually that would make him squirm but now it just... relaxed him. He shifted again, closer to Jason. He messed with the cape to cover them a bit better before closing his eyes again.

He drifted off to sleep with a lullaby playing in his core.

He should definitely ask Frostbite more about family bonds as ghosts when he gets back.

It was peaceful for all of 15 minutes when the door opened with a bang, startling them both.

“Rise and shine, ghosties,” the agent from before said, taking in the scene quickly. Jason startled and tried to use his injured hand to prop himself up, leaving him hissing in pain. The agent rolled her eyes.

“Well, dog,” she said, “Looks like you did a good job at not licking your wounds,” she grabbed his hand roughly, as she did before. Something in the action sparked anger somewhere in Danny and, disorientated, he... may have misjudged the situation.

“The only bitch I see here is you,” he mumbled, then caught himself.

The words didn’t make her mad, no. Instead, she looked delighted.

She took out a button from her coat pocket and pressed it.

“This must be what she did earlier,” he thought to himself before searing pain overtook their bodies.

Like before, it was electrifying and it was painful. Attempting to think of something better to distract himself and not make noise, he focused on the emotional connection with Jason.

Reassurance-Calm-Sorry

He thought of how awesome it would be once he got to introduce Jason to Ellie. The clone hadn’t been around much, too busy on her world tour and harassing some couple she met in Kansas and their son that visited sporadically, but she was still family. She and him were enough like siblings that they could-

He would’ve frozen in realization if it weren’t for the convulsing caused by the collar. He found the connection he had with Ellie and yanked, attempting to send out the signal.

Help-Danger-Alarm

Jason looked at him oddly as they came down from the shock waves. Danny shook his head slightly. “Not now,” he mouthed when the agent looked away for a moment.

“Honestly,” she began, “You things really can’t have the intelligence to bandage your own wounds and not know that you’d be punished for not holding your tongue.”

Danny fought the urge to mouth off more. He probably would’ve if she didn’t just prove she’d punish Jason for his doings if they weren’t careful.

“That tells me a lot, you know,” she continued. She pulled out her camera, taking pictures of the closing wounds on Danny’s face. The bruise from Jack remained stubborn, but everything else had started to heal somewhat.

She mumbled to herself as she took the photos. She didn’t bother replacing a lot of his bandages.

When she moved on to Jason, she was a lot rougher with him than she was with Danny. She dragged him by his hair so she could take pictures of the head wound she’d left earlier and yanked on his injured hand.

She had hovered on his head wound a little longer than they felt comfortable with. They were just waiting for it; for her to accuse them of treating the gaping thing, of cleaning it or something. All Danny did was wipe away the blood a bit and make sure it wasn’t too deep of an impact wound; that counter was sharp.

Something whispered in Danny that it was meant to be like that; sharp counters produced more damage, he bet.

She didn’t accuse them of anything. She threw Jason down and told them to clean it up.

“I can’t get clear pictures without all that matted hair in the way,” she snapped.

She promptly left without much more fanfare. They’d looked at each other.

“That was so suspicious, right?” Jason asked quietly.

“Ancients above, yes,” he replied. He stood up, still slightly disorientated from their impromptu nap and grabbed the med kit.

He sat back down on the floor. Jason leaned in. “What was that earlier?”

Danny looked at him and blinked once before remembering. “I have a clone,” he said casually.

Jason did a double take. “Say wha'?”

Danny rolled his eyes, making Jason scoot over so he could tilt his head back. “Technically, she’s my daughter, but she’s also my cousin and sometimes my sister- it's complicated,” he waved it off as though it were a bad smell, then began to clean the wound with some rubbing alcohol. “Anyways, the ghost thing decided we’re not-identical enough that we have an emotional thingy like we have. We forget about it a lot since it’s harder to activate when you’re super far apart like we are most of the time, but-”

“But it’s enough that you can hopefully send a distress signal,” he finished.

“Pretty much,” he said as he began to press gauze to the wound. He didn’t really have a way to secure it...

Jason exhaled, sensing the problem and taking some of the long bandages and wrapping his head, making sure to keep the gauze in place.

Danny vaguely wondered if he figured out he didn’t have to breathe in this form yet. He’d already decided unless it was immediately important, he wasn’t going to tell Jason, but he wondered if he should just blurt it out since the boy seems intent on doing it. Nah, he needs to figure that out on his own time. He would’ve just freaked out if someone had pointed it out to him.

Jason laughed a bit. “Uh, I’m still confused as to why you have a clone? But that’s great-”

Danny whispered into Jason’s ear in case someone was listening. “I have a creepy ass billionaire godfather intent on kidnapping me to make me his heir. He’s a halfa, like us, but he’s a frootloop. He made a bunch of clones. Ellie was the only viable one,” he explained.

Jason looked at him. “Wow, and out of us I thought I was going to be the one with the weird life.”

Danny laughed. “Man, not with my... what would you call them? Adoptive family?”

Jason grimaced. “It’s not like they chose to adopt you? The people that raised you?” he offered.

Danny shook his head, “Nah, that implies that my sister means nothing to me and she’s literally the only one keeping me from losing my shit half the time, so?”

“We’ll workshop it?”

They looked at one another before laughing a bit.

It wasn’t funny, but sometimes, you have to laugh, right? It’s better than crying at least.

“Okay, let’s figure this out,” Danny started. “Uh, obviously bio family is out.”

Jason snorted. “Duh, that would be blonde bitch and deadbeat asshole. What about... foster family?”

Danny shook his head. “See, again, implies they knew. What about...”

Before they knew it, their once-serious discussion had devolved into a fit of giggles. The door opened and all laughter stopped.

The same agent was standing there, now with a pipe. She was once again grinning. Agent J was standing behind her, ready with a notepad and pencil, camera hanging around their neck.

Even if he didn’t have the connection between them, Danny could tell Jason was terrified. He was doing a good job at pretending he wasn’t, but he had started picking up the small tells. The clenched fists, the set jaw. His biggest indicator was that he had stopped breathing.

He doubted he even noticed as the agent walked towards them slowly, dragging it across the floor. She turned towards Jason.

“It’s your lucky day, ghostie,” she said, brandishing the pipe. “We’ve already gotten approved for a new experiment!”

Fear-Betrayal-Panic

Danny thought back to what Jason had told him of what happened before they came here. As the agent raised the pipe, his body moved without his permission.

He might take the threat seriously, but that wouldn’t stop him from protecting his twin. Especially when that twin was already hurt.

The agent was already swinging when Phantom went in front of the other boy, taking the hit for him. It was Jason who whimpered as if he’d been struck.

“Phantom,” Agent J called out. “What is the meaning of this?”

He took a deep breath. “If you exhaust Robin now,” he began, “You won’t have both of us ready for more experiments. Robin is hurt worse than I am right now; his injuries could skew your results, anyways,” he said.

Agent J raised an eyebrow. “Very well,” they mumbled. “Agent V, switch subjects. And I am very disappointed that you did not see this oversite, yet the ectoscum detected it easily. I may have to bring that up with the department head,” they looked at the other Agent through their goggles.

Agent V looked at Phantom for a moment before lowering her own down. She got up close. “You’ll pay for that,” she hissed.

She raised the pipe again. This time, Danny did not move, taking the hits.

If this was an experiment, he needed to talk with the department head. What were the merits of beating the shit out of a 15-year-old boy?

He took it, out of options. It was either him or Jason; he was pretty sure he was having some sort of panic attack, curled up in a ball with his cape. He reacted like he was the one being struck over and over again. Danny could not muster up any annoyance, like some might have; he knew what it was like to feel the phantom pains of getting hit when you were completely fine.

When Agent V finally tire of bringing the pipe down on Danny’s body, she smiled, tucking it into the belt of her coat. She left without another word.

Agent J took pictures of his wounds. There was very little blood, but he could already feel parts of his body bruising and he was pretty sure some of them had become so tender they had split open. He had very few cuts, according to Agent J’s mumblings, but had several... abrasions? Over several parts of his body.

He was pretty sure that was a fancy word for scrape because that’s sure what those looked like to him.

Agent J grabbed the medical kit from where Danny had left it and tutted. “Did you two waste all these supplies or was it the incompetence of the staff?” they muttered, mostly to themselves. They left the room.

They came back with a better med kit and treated him. They kept jotting down notes as they did so.

Danny ignored them. They could do whatever they wanted.

He kept looking at Jason, who still had that faraway look in his eye.

What he went through just now? That sucked. Danny had a feeling if he’d let Jason go through it, it’d suck more.

He closed his eyes. They had to get out.

They were going to get out.

#dp x dc #ailesswhumptober2023 #jason todd #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc robin #robin #batman #ai less whumptober day fourteen #kite flies over the nightingale nest

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