#tw; alchohol abuse

[starysky1289]

Toxic!Sorority!Vanessa X Reader. Breakup pt2

Part two to This FIC.

TW: Toxic relationship, manipulation, Abuse, Drug mention, Alcohol mention,Angst

It had been only a week sense you broke up with Vanessa, and you’d hadn’t seen her. But it felt like she was everywhere. She never showed up to any of the classes you shared, she was never around campus, she was never in the student building, but her presence felt heavy everywhere.

You spent most your time in your Dorm, when you weren’t in classes or getting food. Your Dorm was the only place you felt real safty. You had finally stood up to her, you weren’t taking her shit anymore, but you longed for her. You longed for her to hold your arm, her to call you pretty pet names and call you hers. You knew it was wrong, you knew she was bad, but something about it made you miss her.

There was a gentle knock on the door, before your roommate Stacie entered. She always had this calming aura about her that helped your relax. But this time she looked distressed, you could see it in her eyes. You quickly got up, holding her up, looked like she seen a ghost. You closed the door behind her, sitting her down on her bed.

“ Stacie, Stacie what’s wrong? “

“ I-I was..jumped…when I was leaving my class…three girls just started beating me, saying that it was from…h-her…”

You knew immediately what she meant, you only held her closer, keeping her head close to your chest. There was another knock on the door, this time it was more of a banging, with mixed laughter behind it.

“ Cmon Stacie! We’re not done yet! Get back out here! “

You quickly wrapped Stacie in a nearby blanket, pressing her forehead against yours to keep her distracted.

“ FUCK OFF. LEAVE US ALONE! “

“ did you hear that girls? She’s in there, hissing away from Nessas eyes. Let’s go tell her the news, she’ll be pleased to hear you haven’t killed your self yet. We’ll be back later Y/N!! “

Your heart raced. You close every window in the dorm, and turned off every light, the only one left was two small LED lights that hung at the edge of your beds, not bright enough to be noticed. This is what Vanessa ment, You’d never sleep in peace again, you were stuck. You could either live and cower in fear for your life, and give in and let Vanessa love you.

*~*

“ are you sure you don’t want me to come get you after your class Stacie? “

“ I’m positive, the last thing you need is Vanessa to find you. Hurry and get to your philosophy class, I’ll be safe. “

Stacie’s bruised were slightly better, she knew she had to keep going or else she’d fail. You hugged her gently, before making your way out of the dorm, making your way to your classroom. You settled into your seat, pulling out your note book and work. The professor started his lesson, and you’d go and write notes, answer questions excitedly, and doodle when you were listening. You revived a sudden notification from Stacie, she must of changed her mind. God you wish it was that.

You were sent a photo from her phone, all you saw was an ambulance, and a disturbing message.

“ you can come and meet with Vanessa before the end of the day, or when your little roomie comes back there won’t be anything left for the docs to save “

You panicked, shoving your stuff into your bag, immediately leaving the room.

“ Ms L/N! Where are you going! “

“ I’m sorry professor, but there’s an emergency! “

You ran out of the building, and only focused on getting to the frats neighborhood where the sorority was. You were running back to a trap, you knew it. But Stacie’s life was more important than anything else, even your own life. You skidded in front of the pink house, quickly knocking on the door. And low behold, Vanessa opened the door, her eyes staring down at you.

“ there’s my girl…”

“ WHAT DID YOU DO TO STACIE! “

“ all i did was what I had to. To get your attention. Come inside, let’s chat. “

You reluctantly followed her in, a few other girls sat in the living room, watching you go by. She sat you down at the kitchen island. She slid you over a High noon, before sitting across from you.

“ I’m not in the mood to drink. “

“ I know. But that’s the first thing you drank in this house. Same exact flavor too. I Remember these things about you y/n. “

She was right, it was the same size, drink, and flavor. You held it in your hand, sighing before looking back at her.

“ I also know how you’ve said you’d do anything for people you love. Rember when yiu got high off my stuff and you didn’t tell the campus police I was carrying anything? You could have told and we’d all be hauled away to jail, but you didn’t. You told me you loved me “

“ yeah….and..? “

“ don’t you love Stacie? You’d do anything for her? “

Small tears formed on your eyes and you nodded, you knew where she was going with this, and you couldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t even try.

“ then let’s make a deal y/n. If you come back to me, love me, be my girl again, I’ll never have Stacie hurt again. I won’t even have her removed as your roomate. And, after some well earned punishment, I’ll treat you better. “

She held your hand, and you silently cried, holding it tightly. You loved Stacie, you both thought you’d have a chance now, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew deep down Vanessa loved you, you had seen it. And you loved her. You had to do it.

“ y-you promise nessy…? “

“ I promise dove. Do I ever lie to you about things like this? “

You shook your head and she smirked, standing up to go comfort you. Leaning against your back and kissing your neck.

“ do we have a deal hun? “

“ y-yes….yes Vanessa. I love you…I-i do..I’m sorry I tried to leave you “

She clicked her tongue, you knew she was smiling like a hyena, but you didn’t wanna look. She kissed you gently, hugging you tighter.

“ oh…my poor girl..why don’t you stay the night hun…I’ll clean up all those tears..”

She lead you upstairs, pass the giggling girls. She let you go sit on the bed, as she closed and locked the door. She gave you the look you knew, she wasn’t going to let you go for hours.

*~*

A few days after the whole ordeal, Stacie was in a stable enough condition for you to visit her in the hospital. She was heavily bruised, and had stitches across her face. Vanessa let you go alone, she said it was part of her being nice.

“ y/n…”

“ Stacie….i went back to her, I’m so sorry. “

You wanted to sob, you wanted to crawl up with her and sob. But you’d give something away to the doctors. Stacie wasn’t disappointed, she was mad or anything.

“ I’m sorry. “

“ it’s not your fault..you really loved me..you had to let me go to keep me safe…”

“ she says she’ll still keep us roomates, and we can still hangout “

She held your hand, giving it a gentle kiss. You let only a few tears fall before wipping them away.

“ I love you Stacie. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, ok? “

“ I love you too y/n…be safe..”

You left the room and the hospital, Vanessa was in her black SUV waiting for you. You sat in the passenger seat besides her and kissed her cheek before she drove off.

“ how is she? “

“ stable, and healing. She’ll be out in a few weeks. “

“ good! Im so happy your friend is ok. I love you y/n. “

You looked down at your wrist, the pink scrunchie lay on it again. You only smile and look back up at her. She was being better to you. Maybe this would be the change.

“ I-i love you too Vanessa “

“ good girl. Now let’s go get you something pretty for the party this weekend. “

Maybe.

#vanessa shelly #five nights at freddy's #sorority!vanessa #vanessa shelly x reader #toxic!vanessa #tw toxic relationship #tw manipulation #tw abuse #tw drug mention #tw angst #tw alchohol mention

[thehollowwriter]

The Official Bio of Blaze Dugal

Basic Info:

Name: Blaze Dugal

Nicknames: Triggerfish (Floyd)

Homeland: The Coral Sea

Species: Sunshine Chromis mer

Birthday: 19th February

Age: 17

Height/length: 168cm

Dominant hand: Right

Class: 2-D

Dorm: Savanaclaw

Besf subject: Practical magic

Club: Film club

Unique magic: TBA

Family:

Unnamed mother

Preferences:

Hobbies: Studying movies, dancing

Likes: Music, movies, doing his makeup, anything he deems cool, swords

Dislikes: Anything he thinks is cringy or boring, Finn, Vil, students that are too quiet

Favourite food: Stuffed crab

Least favourite food: unagi

Appearance:

Blaze has bright yellow eyes and short, fluffy purple and yellow hair, like this:

In his mer form, he looks like your generic mermaid. He's rail thin. Human upper half, fish lower half. In his human form, he treats his appearance with even less care than Floyd (he thinks it makes him look cool), so he usually looks scruffy. His casual clothes usually consist of black edgy outfits. He hates how bright his hair is and thinks it's childish, but his mother won't let him dye it black like he wants to. He has a purple heart-shaped birthmark on his forehead.

Personality:

He's a bully, to put it simply. He's violent, aggressive, and easily set off. Think of him as the guy who's always like, "You talking about me???". He constantly picks on and demeans anyone he finds cringey, weird or lame, and thinks of himself in high regard (no, actually, not at all) His mother said he was a star, after all.

Although, there's this deep sinking feeling that he's simply not enough. Around his mother, he's much more meek and very quiet. He's very protective of his friends and dormates, and is quick to defend them.

For a guy so seemingly bullheaded, he is hyper aware of his surroundings and quick to react. If you saw him flinch when you raised your hand too fast, no, you didn't.

Some Fun Facts/Extra Info

•"Fun" Fact his mother is both physically and verbally abusive toward him, and he's immensely afraid of her. He feels weak and helpless whenever he's with her and makes himself feel stronger by terrorising those around him.

•His mother is a local actor for small productions with an alcohol problem, but likes to describe herself as a film star, and expects Blaze to be one too, often telling her that he'll leave a "blazing trail of greatness".

•He is very efficient at being quiet

•He doesn't eat much at all because "stars aren't greedy and fat"

•Blaze was one of Azul's bullies and the only persisting bully of Finn. He often, and still does, calls Finn a parasite and other demeaning names

•Really, he wants to do something outside of the entertainment industry, but what else is there for him?

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @am0nline @1dont-really-know

@kazumirambles @minteasketches @officialdaydreamer00 @whspermy-name @elysia-nsimp

@skrimpyskimpy @casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @the-banana-0verlord @skribleskrable

@quartztwst @ramshacklerumble

#blaze dugal #savanaclaw #twisted wonderland #twst oc #tw abuse #tw fatphobia #tw alchoholism

[in-th3-v01d]

* hahahaahaahahahah

* HOW DO YOU EVEN ENJOY THIS...

* whatt, it's funny!

* IT REALLY ISNT....

* oh come on. all that talk about 'recovering' and 'making promises'? what f**king bulls**t.

* Qu13t.

* it was always bound to happen. right M?

* ...

* ..angelsdontexist.andtheyneverwill.

* ...

* ha. he gets me.

#rottmnt void #d. #l. #m. #r. #in the void #hea au #tw cursing #tw verbal abuse #tw insults #tw alchoholism #typing quirk

[boilsyouroil]

Dumb shit me and my friends said in our group chat but as incorrect quotes; tsams edition

TW// ab#se mention , 9/11 joke , alcoh#l mention

Bloody: I have the best abusive biological father ever

Lunar: w h a t

__

Eclipse: twin towers × plane 🤭

"Virus" Ruin: I ship

Eclipse: it's so good a ship that people died

"Virus" Ruin: I just realized I missed a pun opportunity. I should have said "I plane" instead of "I ship"

__

*The lights go out*

Solar: power be gone

Moon: yup

Sun: *screams in the other room*

__

Monty: And then Sun just whispered into my ear "Autistic kids are spicier than neurotypical kids"

Earth: What :D...

__

Sun, over text: YOU HAVNE NO PROOFF THAT I AM THE CUKPRIT

Moon: There is a bottle of wine at the crime scene.

__

Lunar: Dad jokes with Monty have evolved, I'm now resurrecting Eclipse to make him shut up

Sun: Please don't-

Eclipse, climbing out of the floorboards: Ok who's being a fucking bitch-

__

Solar: bai keybor

Sun: *Launches the keyboard at one of his cats* I FUCKING HATE THIS GAME-

Moon: Amazing prediction. Is the cat okay, Sun?

__

Eclipse: today was the most baddest fucking day of my fucking life... I got stuck in the fucking portal 😭

Sun: Writing's not that easy, but-

Moon: Are- Are you okay Eclipse..?

__

Solar: I just threw up all over myself.. what the fuck, man!?

Moon: Go lay down, I'll come over and clean it up.

__

Creator: I am shitting as we speak

Earth: *Hangs up, gags*

__

Earth: Your royal gaynesses

Monty: Which one is the most royal?

Eclipse: Obviously m-

Solar: *Smacks him*

__

Monty: I identify as a walrus and my pronouns are fuck/you

Lunar: Fuck you too, buddy.

__

Eclipse: Monty, shut the fuck up before I hop on my tricycle and ascend to war on your precious lizard children-

Monty: Eclipse, I will bash your skull in and boil your brains before taking a beartrap to your bolts and scissors to your feet.

Moon: Jesus H.. I live with dumbasses

#fnaf security breach #boils your oil #fnaf #sams #sams eclipse #sams moon #sams monty #sams lunar #the lunar and earth show #tsams lunar #lunar and earth show #sun and moon show #sun and moon show eclipse #sun and moon fnaf #sun and moon security breach #sundrop #sams sun #sams incorrect quotes #wild ass shit #my friends are unhinged beasts #sams bloodmoon #sams bloodtwins #fnaf bloodmoon #sun and moon show bloodmoon #tw alchohol mention #tw #9/11 joke #tw abuse #tw abuse mention

[monsterhighlovurr]

Rehabklok-Explained

Alot of people dind it very confusing on Nathan supposdley making Pickles forgive his absuer brother in order to get sober, this is not what Nathan means, lets look into it.

Its very obvious that Nathan doesnt have a “forgive and forget abusers no matter what because family😊” mindset from his view of pickles family and the rest of the bands bio family in dethfam, dethchristmas, and motherklok, where he outright tells pickles that his mom is a pos and he needs to stop fucking with her. “You should tell your mom to fuck herself”-Nathan Explosion

Pickles bio fam dynamic is very complicated but easily summed up, his parents are abusers, Seth is the golden child and Pickles is the scape goat. Pickles developed his addiction at age six from an event were his brother burned down the garage and blamed it on him (keep in mind his brother was only a couple years older than Pickles here, probably around 8 or 9, this is very important).

The thing about Pickles, is that Pickles blames little kid Seth for the abuse he received as a child, ignoring the fact that Seth was also a child living in that same abusive household dealing with those same abusive parents. Like burning down a garage is NOT the trait of a healthy well adjusted little boy with a good home life, Little Seth was obviously looking for some form of attention and affection from their shitty parents too. But that moment was a major catalyst in Pickles life, as it not only permanently cemented him as the scape goat and Seth as the golden child in the family dynamics, but also was the start of his alcoholism, which aides in the overall decline of his life.

Instead of Pickles holding the real problem accountable for their actions(his abusive parents) he blames little Seth for the abuse and holds resentment for little Seth, and uses that event and that family dynamic as an excuse to binge drink, instead of an explanation for his binge drinking.

ADULT Seth however, is an abusive pos who constantly harrasses and manipulates Pickles, taking advantage of Pickles and constantly begging for *huge* sums of cash, even physically assaulting him in dethwedding. Seth is just an overall pos in general, beating up hookers, getting with barely legal teenagers, regular douchebaggery. ADULT Seth should not be forgiven, especially since he makes zero effort to change his ways and uses every moment he can to join in with his parents to make Pickles life as miserable as possible. ADULT Seth is a grown ass man who knows what hes doing and has no excuse for his shitty actions, little Seth however…

Pickles wont be able to move on with his sobriety until he forgives little Seth for what he did that day and stops blaming little Seth for the actions of their abuser parents. HOWEVER, he also wont be able to move on with his sobriety if he *keeps* forgiving ADULT Seth and enabling him. He literally apologizes to Seth in this episode, not for blaming him for the abuse their parents did, but instead for being reasonably upset at Seth for abusing him as a grown ass man and constantly taking advantage of him and his money??? Pickles sweetie that is literally the complete opposite of what Nathan wanted you to do😫. And on top of that he CONTINUES to let Seth take advantage of him and gives him millions of dollars??? Pickles what??!? The lesson was supposed to be, forgive your brother for the shitty things he did as a helpless abused child and hold him accountable for the shitty things he does as a grown adult, not harbor resentment for him as a helpless abused child but forgive and forget his abuse as an adult and continue to enable him??? Theres still hope since he stands up to his abusive mom in motherklok, hopefully Seth is next ☺️.

His moment was Seth was so fucking unsatisfying like plzzz bro, plzzz. Nathan needed to come down there and clarify what he meant because watching Seth use Pickles moment of vulnerability in order to swindle MILLIONS of dollars from him made me so sad for Pickles :(.

#metalocalypse #pickles the drummer #nathan explosion #rehabklok #siblings #toxic family #forgiveness #tw alchoholism #child abuse

[ike-bana]

Fragments (Dabi x reader)

Pairing : Dabi x fem! reader

words: 1.9K

Genre: Angst

Content warning : Toxic relationships/unhealthy relationships, arguments, alcohol use, smoking,angst,mentions of abuse, swearing, mentions of violence,pregnancy,mature/adult themes,no clear spoliers except you squint really hard,manupilation(if you squint). Minors DNI

Summary: All that's left of your relationship were tiny fragments, tiny little fragments you were trying to put back together yet even you were reaching your limit.

Songs to set the mood: Been like this by Doja cat / I hate everything about you by three days grace. If you have your own playlist,it's fine as well!

A/N: I was in a angsty mood and this came up so suffer or enjoy whichever. I also used the British past tense of burn cause that's what I use. I view the reader as female but I don't think gender was stated here so do with that what you wish

You sat there on the cold tiled floor as your back was leaning on the kitchen wall. You covered your face with your trembling tear stained hands. Your eyes were red and puffy and your head was throbbing. Your body was worn and weary from all the crying that you could no longer let out a proper sob. You let out a shaky sigh as you were terribly exhausted. This wasn't new to you, you were used to situations like this, often times you'd lock yourself in the bathroom hugging yourself and sobbing uncontrollably until he calmed down. It wasn't like it was an uncommon occurrence .All couples fought at some point in their relationships,it was always bound to happen

but damn, this was the fifth time this week.

You folded your legs under your thighs in a cross-legged fashion kicking a ceramic shard in the process. That was your brand new plate you got for 20% off at the store

or at least what was left of it.

You scanned the kitchen carefully, taking in the blatant state of complete disarray. Broken plates and cups flooded the room ,chairs toppled over and one of the table's legs had come off, knocking it off balance. you had to replace the good as damaged piece of furniture the next time you went shopping. As saddened as you were,a small part of you was grateful he didn't burn the place down with his quirk.You knew very well what he was capable of and you wouldn't stand a chance with your subpar quirk. You could turn small items into powder. It couldn't be used against people or animals and it wouldn't work on anything larger than small notepad.You wouldn't want to call it useless as it has helped you quit the number of times but you knew it couldn't hold a candle to your boyfriend's flame quirk.

You grimaced as you heard a blunt being lit in the next room followed by the clanging of bottles from the cabinet. His usual routine after a fight like this, you could count the number of times you had told him to stop but he'd always snap at you so you gave up trying. It helped him keep calm since he couldn't burn the place down. He had never raised his hand against you,something you were once again grateful for but he almost burnt you with his quirk.Almost. It was just that one time and he apologized. That was what you kept telling yourself. Dabi did indeed apologize and he went above and beyond to make it up to you both physically and emotionally,in more ways than one.

"Y/N"

your train of thought was disrupted as you heard him call your name,you were so deep in thought that you didn't even notice him come in. You stood up from the kitchen floor abruptly and dusted your skirt. He stood there towering over you with a cigarette between his middle and pointer finger and a rocks glass on the same hand.

"Y-yes" you stuttered trying so hard to fix your composure but failing woefully.

"Get out" He said plainly and clearly

"what?"

You stared on in disbelief ,your lips parting slightly gripping the hem of your shirt tightly , tears long and forgotten threatened to repeat their cycle.

"Don't make me repeat myself"

"B- But Dabi I live here,I paid for this place "

He had moved in with you a couple of months ago after you insisted. Although he wasn't always around due to his work in the league,he did stop by and sleep over. He deemed it unnecessary seeing as he already stayed a couple of nights and slept in your bed. You said you just wanted to feel closer to him so you urged him to move all his belongings here

"Fine , guess I'll leave" He stormed out of the small building, slamming the door in the process.

The sobs came out naturally and the salty tears like the gushing waters of Niagara falls. where did it all go wrong?.Oh you wanted to fix this so badly but what more could you do?.

You used to be so happy together,so,so normal. But now everything was all in shambles. All you had done was call him out on his secrecy and urged him to be more open and honest with you. you knew he was hiding something about himself. Instead of being calm and understanding he snapped at you and this led to a full on world war 2 in your kitchen

You leaned your back against the wall and slid down to the floor. You let yourself cry once more but now with less restraint. You sobbed,sniffiled and whimpered until nothing came out. You don't know how long you sat there but you were sure hours had past. You couldn't properly tell as it had already been dark out long ago. You couldn't do this anymore,you loved Dabi with all your heart as strange as it was. You don't know what exactly attracted you to the raven haired villain.Whether it was his bad boy persona or the undeniable urge you had to "fix" him, you could never tell. But love works in strange ways. That's why it was hard for you to do this but you had to end this. For your sake and theirs

Gathering the last ounces of strength, you had left in you,you stood up from the floor,stumbling slightly. You walked into your shared bedroom and pulled out a black duffel bag from the closet drawer by the door. You took every item of clothing he owned and hurriedly folded them into the bag. Knowing him,he probably wouldn't be back till the next day or week,it was impossible to predict. But either way it gave you enough time to prepare yourself. You didn't know how he was going to take this but you had to stand your ground,you weren't going to take this lying down.

And just like that as if fate was trying to play some cruel sick joke on you,the door flung open and Dabi came sauntering into the bedroom.

"Listen Y/N I-"

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him looking like a deer caught in headlights , clinging desperately to the black t-shirt you held in your hands. He looked you over,carefully processing what was going on. He narrowed his sapphire eyes and clenched his fists tightly

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked surprisingly calm

"Dabi,I'm tired. I can't do this anymore. I'm done" you managed to let out

Just as that was said,he let out a warped hysterical laugh. A look of fear in accordance with pure confusion was evident on your face.You always knew your boyfriend was off his rocker but you weren't expecting him to react this way. Your lips were quivering and a chill ran up your spine.He calmed down and wiped the non-existent tears from his stapled eyes.

"You know what's funny? I came back all the way here to apologize and this is how you repay me"

"Dabi,I'm serious,we can't do this with you anymore" You finally found your voice once more although it didn't come out as assertive as you wanted it to.

" Wait,we? The fuck are ya talking about"

"I-" you paused.

You had managed to hide this for a span of two weeks now. He'd been going in and out lately so it made it a lot less tasking to conceal it. But now it seemed futile to keep this up any longer especially since he was putting you on the spot like this

" Dabi I" you exhaled

"Dabi I'm pregnant"

His face visibly softened when you told him that. He stared blankly at you as if you had grown a second head. You glanced at him when he hadn't said anything,his silence made you apprehensive. It wasn't something that was planned so it wouldn't surprise you if he was upset. You could have sworn you had used protection but alas these things do fail.

"Wait,are you serious?" He asked,forehead creased

"Yes,I am" you avoided his questioning gaze

What he had done next after had shocked you. He pulled you into a warm embrace. His charred hands combed through your strands of hair.

"I'm so happy,this is good news" His voice was muffled as he had buried his face on your shoulder

"Wait,what?"

"I said I'm happy Y/n,this is good news"

"No,I heard what you said,I'm just surprised that you're not upset"

"Why would I be upset?,you're carrying my kid in you"

You broke out of his embrace and stared at him with your eyebrows furrowed. You were confused as to who this man was and what he had done to your rather abrasive boyfriend

"Hey earth to Y/n" he waved his hand in front of your face

You gave him a hard look before glancing around the room like a patient with amnesia. Your eyes caught the half-open duffel bag that lay long forgotten on the floor. It was then that you recalled what had brought you to the bedroom in the first place .If he thinks you'd sweep that under the carpet then he had another thing coming.

"Babe,are you OK?. You look tense" he spoke up when you hadn't said anything casting you a worried look.

"Dabi,I'm glad that you're happy about this whole pregnancy and all but that doesn't erase what's going on. Having a baby doesn't make this situation suddenly resolved,we still need to end this"

The look he had given you was one you had never seen before. It was a perfect blend of remorse,anxiety,sadness and you could could have sworn you saw fear in the mix.Nothing like the scowls he had given you that night

"I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately and I know I've done nothing but fuck things up but please give me a chance" he had reached out a hand to you and placed it on your shoulder but you shrugged it off

" Dabi,shit isn't that easy,I've given you more chances then I could conceivably count. You've gotten even more aggressive than usual lately and it's concerning. I can't keep placing myself in this kind of toxic environment,it's not healthy for me or the baby"

Your back was turned away from him now.If he kept staring at you like that, you might change your mind. His broken expression made you want to run into his warm embrace and break down right there but you knew better than that.

"Y/N, come-come on let me fix this"

"No Dabi,you've done more than enough" You said bitterly looking down in regret

" OK Y/N,i know this is probably a joke and you got me good,I won't lie. Now stop playing around,I get it"

His forced chuckle made you grimace,he was being persistent and this was making it harder for you.

"Dabi,look if you don't leave then I'm afraid I have to"

You made your way over to the closed closet to pick out your clothes, passing over the discarded duffle bag on the floor. Before,you could fling the closet doors open,you felt a tight hug on your waist from behind. You wanted to protest,to shove him away from you but you knew he was stronger than you,so you just stood there. Dabi was never the clingy type so his actions made you perplexed but not as perplexed as the words that left his mouth not long after

"Please don't leave me,Don't take everything away from me,just like-just like they did"

what exactly did he mean by that?. His words made you further realize how little you truly knew about your villain boyfriend. He had never spoken of anything like this .But then again,he never spoke about himself or his past. That was part of the various reasons why you were even in this situation in the first place.This was definitely out of character for him so you wanted to press further

"Dabi, who is they? what are you talking about?"

"They took it all away from me,my life,my childhood. It was "his"fault,he did it to me. Please don't treat me like he did. Please you're all I have,you're the only person who could ever love me" He kept pleading keeping whoever he was talking about in question anonymous.

You had never seen him like this,it broke you to say the least. And just as if a fragile cord had snapped inside your brain,you let tears flow out once more that night,returning the villain's embrace. He sounded so distressed and you couldn't take this any longer. You weren't sure whether it was the hormones or a genuine sympathetic response that made you lose your resilience,but all you knew was you wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright.

"No Dabi I won't" *sniff*" I won't leave you" what were you thinking?,he needed you,you couldn't just leave him.

"Really?" He broke apart and gave you a crestfallen look.

"Yes Dabi.Really. We can work something out this time" you stroked his cheeks, devoid of skin and replaced by open flesh and staples.

His little rants had deeply concerned you but you knew you would have to pry about it some other time.

He dove back into your arms and squeezed you tightly,not enough to hurt you but it was still a tight grip. You returned his embrace and leftover tears fell from your eyes as you smiled.

" I promise you,you won't regret it" The staples near his cheeks rose as his lips formed a malevolent smirk

" You won't regret it at all"

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi x reader #reader is afab #tw toxic relationship #unhealthy relationships #alchohol tw #smoking #mature theme #adult themes #mentions of abuse #tw swearing #dabi x y/n #my hero fanfic #my hero academia x reader #pregnant reader #dabi x you #dabi #pregnancy #manupulation #dabi x pregnant reader

[allamericansbitch]

I made the mistake of seeing why Joe Alwyn was trending on Twitter and it turns out swiftie morals are at an all time low because why are yall just making up rumors out of nothing that now he’s an apparent alcoholic who was physically abusive… and also calling him a nazi sympathizer because he played one in a movie….. the fandom has gone far past the point of saving

#tw abuse #tw alchoholism #tp

[srorgana1]

Honoring the Past

Rock Star Kylo Ren/Reader

Warnings: physical and mental abuse of a child, alcoholism, mentions of homophobia, and lots of complex emotions

Huge thanks to my amazing friend and Beta @mrs-zimmerman ❤️

A cackle of laughter hits Kylo’s ears as he enters D’Kar Studios. He smirks, settling his helmet on his hip as he sees Taylor "Trax" Johnson, DeeDee and the front desk clerk Amelia laughing jovially at something on Trax’s phone. It still amazes him how different it is here compared to First Order Records. He remembers how stuffy and by the book it was. There was no joy, no smiles, just cut-throat business practices and the music that fueled in. He thanks the deities above for letting him finally see the light and detach himself from that toxic black hole of a company.

DeeDee turns to him, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Hey Kylo” she says through giggles “you all are set up in Room #3 today.” He nods at them, and heads down the hallway. He turns left at the intersection and takes in the various awards and accolades adorning the walls. He sees their platinum award proudly displayed under a shadow box along with a vinyl sized picture of the front of the Trials and Errors album. It broke records in sales and downloads and won them multiple awards. It showed the industry that success could be done differently.

He scans the walls at the other awards from other artists proudly displayed alongside. It didn’t matter here if you were fresh off YouTube or one of the biggest names in the scene, you were treated equally with respect and kindness. You were part of the D’Kar family. Kylo can attest it’s a great fucking place to be.

He sees the record light lit above Room #3. Looking through the window his brows crinkle slightly in confusion. He was used to seeing you at the soundboard with your custom sparkly blue Bose headphones on. But no, you are in the studio room alongside D’Kar’s videographer Vincent recording Vic on your phone. Why is the record light on then if you're both in there? His hand squeezes the doorknob and twists, entering silently.

A wave of nostalgia hits him as the haunting melody of Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) floats on the cool air-conditioned air. His head snaps to the large window as Vic hits the strings of his acoustic guitar, transitioning into the well-known chorus.

It’s something unpredictable

But in the end, it’s right

I hope you had the time of your life

Kylo sets down his motorcycle helmet on the soundboard and leans on his hands, losing himself in a memory…

He is twelve years old, walking down the sun baked sidewalk. His worn and dirty Converse slap the concrete below, a size too small for his rapidly growing feet. The strap from his heavy book bag digs into his shoulder. He looks at the watch on his wrist. The cracked electronic screen blinking up the time. He cannot go home yet. His dad is still there.

The healing burns on his shoulder flares upon thinking about it. He shifts his bookbag away from them, hiding a wince. He got off easy this time and he knows it. He was dumb and thought he wouldn’t notice. He was wrong.

The sad thing is that it’s something he learned a long time ago through multiple bouts of blood, tears and broken bones. You cannot rely on or put your trust in others. It’s the only way for you not to get hurt.

So he continues on with no real destination. He could’ve stayed at school but it would have just raised more questions. He hated when they tried to pry. Just as much as the looks he got from the other kids, whispering snide comments on his height or his hair or his ratty clothes. He knew they would never truly understand. So he held it all in and walked, hoping someone or something would give him a sign that things would get better.

He stops under a shop awning to get a reprieve from the hot Arizona sun. He leans on the bricks, wiping his sweaty black hair out of his eyes. He watches the busy street, the cars and people heading here and there. The various shops bouldering the open air flea market across the street are buzzing with people. Maybe he could sneak in and grab a sandwich again. The nice lady who runs the arepas stand may turn a blind eye like she has before. His mind made up, he takes a step towards the flea market to be stopped in his tracks by the unique sound of music hitting his ears.

For some unknown reason, he turns and heads towards the music. It invades his senses, calling his soul forward. His dad never played music at home, only hateful talk radio. Said it reminded him of his good for nothing bitch of a mother. To be honest, Kylo doesn’t really remember her. She left when he was little. He totally gets why she left though. He just wishes she brought him with her. Anywhere had to be better than here.

He comes to a dingy little shop squished between the payday loan place and the barber shop. How has he missed it before when he has walked most of the streets on this side of town? Regardless, the music rings out the open door like a siren call. Kylo’s feet lead him closer. A small sign hangs overhead matching the peeling paint on the bay window. Corellia Records. The song changes to a more soulful tune, but still with as much power as the one before.

He stands at the threshold looking in cautiously. The space is small and dimly lit. Rickety shelves line the walls full of albums and other what he assumes is musical equipment. The back wall behind the glass counter has multiple instruments hanging. A portly greasy looking man in a stained gray t-shirt and an ill fitting fedora is standing by one of the tables, shuffling through a box while grumbling to himself.

Kylo shuffles in slowly, taking in more of the shop. The song ends as the man looks up at him. “What you need kid?” he says gruffly. Kylo immediately freezes and looks at his shoes, already able to feel this man’s agitation. “Um” he starts, suddenly wishing he had not entered. “Hey kid, it’s okay. What do you need?” the voice comes again. He can smell the man’s musty body odor as he takes a step towards him. He reactively flinches, pulling his book bag closer to himself.

He continues to stare at his shoes as the man sighs and shifts away from him, groaning as he sits on the stool behind the counter. It squeaks loudly under his weight. “You like music kid?” he asks, switching out the record on the record player and pulling a bag of Cheetos Puffs from below. The man opens the bag and shakes it towards him. The classic smell hits Kylo’s nose, making his mouth water almost instantly. “I can tell your hungry kid. Come and have some” he gruffs.

He eyes the man as he slowly walks up, placing his book bag on the floor and hopping up on the adjunct stool. The music is louder over here and seems to flow through him. He shuts his eyes as his body reacts to the emotion of the music. “You like Soundgarden kid? I feel this album is one of their best” the man says, placing the ripped open bag on the counter. Kylo grabs a couple and stuffs them in his mouth, moaning at the delicious taste of orange artificial cheese.

He takes a couple more before answering. “No, I don’t know who that is. I just, i don’t know… i just like it” he says in a small voice. The man hums to himself, taking a Cheeto for himself. “I feel ya there. Music has always spoken to me as well. Led me to some awesome places. Made me believe in the better of people.” Kylo looks up at him, strangely feeling a connection to this man. “I can tell by your eyes kid, you’re the same. My name’s Raf, what’s yours?”

Kylo sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t notice you, Vic and Vincent watching him with concerned eyes. He’s too lost in his memories.

Raf became the pseudo-father figure Kylo needed. So much more than his drunk of a father could ever dream of being. He offered Kylo a job at the shop, saying he couldn’t pay him much but it was there if he wanted it. Kylo took him on his offer instantly. From only a couple of interactions, he found out that Raf had once been in a band, playing guitar and bass. Left the band years ago over creative differences and used the royalties to open the shop. He always said he felt he was meant to give back and help inspire the next generation.

He taught Kylo how to appreciate the classics. The Beatles, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Patsy Cline, Queen, Chuck Berry, The Stones, The Eagles, ACDC, Led Zeppelin, Kiss, Tom Petty, The Cure, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Leadbelly. Showed him how musical influences never really change, they just meld and flow into the next generation. Just like the notes on the wind.

They figured out a schedule, with Kylo working the four days his father worked the late shift. He would race there after school, working the counter and unpacking boxes as Raf quizzed him on music history. He then started teaching Kylo how to play keyboard and then eventually guitar, saying learning both would instill the notes in faster. He was gruff but fair in his style of teaching but never cruel, allowing Kylo to make the necessary mistakes without judgment.

As the years went on, his home life got worse. There were multiple times he would come in battered and bruised. Raf would fix him up and then would let him stay in the back, popping open a cold Jarritos for him. He would give him a pained look before leaving Kylo to the boxes.

At fourteen, Raf recommended Kylo to play at the local Cantina’s open mic night. Said it would be good for him to try it out and to test out his skills in front of others. Kylo will never forget that night for as long as he lived. He stood backstage at Los Nopales, his body wracked with nerves. He remembers shaking and his sweaty hand almost staining the wooden neck of his borrowed guitar.

His name was called followed by some random applause. He took a shuddering breath and walked out under the spotlight, sitting on the stool and attempting to fix the microphone to his height. It squeaked and slid all the way down, hitting the guitar with a thud. A couple people laughed and shook their heads. He fixed it quickly, his cheeks burning hot. He looked up and saw Raf by the bar, his rotund self settled on a bar stool. He nodded at him with kind eyes, silently saying you can do this.

He nodded back and focused on the feeling of the guitar in his hands. The sound of bottles clicking and the low murmur from the crowd. It’s oddly centering. He shuts his eyes and lets himself be enveloped by the energy. He strummed the opening chords, letting himself get lost in the notes. Letting the music carry him away. His rendition of Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi brought the crowd to their feet. He left the stage with a smile on his face and his heart full to see Raf’s face full of pride among the others.

He played there off and on, often on weekends. He would sneak out after his Dad passed out or left for the bar, hopping on the bicycle Raf gave him. Raf was almost always there when he performed, a glass of cold beer in front of him and a big grin on his face. It was something that struck Kylo to the core. How good it felt to have someone believe in him.

But life decided to remind Kylo of his reality. One weekend afternoon when Kylo thought his old man was out cold, he left and headed to the shop. The hot dry air hit his face as he petaled down the street, excited for his shift.

He recently had gotten into a couple newer bands: Foo Fighters, Green Day and Linkin Park. Raf had laughed and rolled his eyes when he caught Kylo rocking out in the back to them, saying how much he could hear Depeche Mode and Rage against the Machine in their sounds. Regardless, he let Kylo order some along with some other bands and they were due to be delivered today.

Kylo parked his bike and chained it up, concerned with the yelling from inside the shop. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the sound of a familiar voice. Please no, he prayed as he slowly walked out of the alley and to the front door. His heart sank in his chest to see his wreck of father cornering Raf by the counter, a threatening finger in his face. Raf stared down the irate man, his large face stoic. His eyes catch Kylo behind him, worry flashing in his dark brown irises.

“I knew you were coming here boy” his father snarled, turning from Raf to him. His feral anger emanated from him as he cracked his neck. “When I heard from Pedro that he saw you playing at the Cantina, I knew this is where you were sneaking off to you little shit” Kylo gulped and watched him in fear as he began to pace. It was a sign of bad things to come.

“C’mon man, he’s just a kid” Raf said, pushing himself off the counter. “DON’T TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY BOY!” his father roars, knocking a box of vinyls to the floor. Kylo winced at the sound of them smashing to pieces. “You come here now” he snarled. Kylo took a breath, knowing he cannot get out of this. If he fights it’ll be ten times worse. He walked up to his father slowly, yelping when his hair was grabbed roughly. “You will never come back here” he voice getting louder “you will never play at that Cantina again and you will never see this fat fucking faggot ever again. Do you understand me!?”

As much as Kylo was scared, he couldn’t take his eyes off Raf. The pain in his eyes mirrored his. He suddenly knew why Raf had been so nice to him at the beginning. He had experienced this. He had his own abuser and was reliving it with Kylo.

It gave Kylo the strength to do what he needed to do. He pulled away, hissing through the pain of his hair being ripped out at the root. He shut his eyes and swung, colliding with his father’s jaw. A shot of pain shoots through his hand and up his arm. He groaned through ragged breaths, holding his arm to his chest. “Ky” a gruff voice said. The voice of his anchor through all this fucking bullshit.

He opened his eyes to see Raf’s eyes wet with tears and his father out cold on the floor. His arm throbbed hotly. “I’m calling the cops Ky, this needs to end” Raf said as he rounded the counter, heading for the back. It was then that Kylo noticed a silvery scar under the tattoo on Raf’s neck, so similar in shape and size to ones he had on his shoulder. “How’d you get out Raf?” Kylo grits out through the stabbing pain. “Music my boy, and I suggest you do the same,'' he responded softly. Kylo nodded as he watched Raf’s wide body disappear behind the wall.

The cops came quickly, escorting both Kylo and his father to the hospital. They set Kylo’s broken hand and arm and questioned him about what happened. He told them everything. They wrote down everything, giving him that pitied look. He hated it. They escorted him home so he could get his meager belongings and was thankfully sent to stay with Raf until the trial.

During that time he recommended Kylo to file for emancipation. He was plenty old enough to and met the qualifications with a job to support himself and had a place to stay. Why not, Raf had said, you’re more of a man now then your father ever was. It was a better option than getting sent to some shitty foster care setup until he aged out.

The courts took their time, but ultimately granted Kylo his emancipation and his father a prison sentence. He continued to play at open mics and work odd jobs along with the shop. He was happy for once. He was doing what he loved and had someone who believed in him.

The day after his sixteenth birthday, Raf told him of an opportunity of a lifetime. It was a job at Raf’s cousin’s restaurant in Los Angeles which came with a small studio apartment and a promise he could perform at every open mic night there. Raf knew it was Kylo’s dream to have his name in lights, to play his guitar for the masses. LA is where music and dreams are made and Kylo deserved to get his shot. He graciously accepted, crying into Raf’s shoulder. He helped Kylo prepare, all the while giving random snippets of advice and pointers on the music industry there.

On a hot April morning, Raf drove Kylo to the bus depot. They sat side by side on the bench until his bus was called. He told Kylo to wait a moment as he huffed and puffed back to his car. Kylo stood there confused with his small tattered duffle bag and second-hand suitcase. As Raf turned back, he saw a familiar leather case. He knew inside was Raf’s vintage Fender, the same one he learned to play on.

Kylo tried to decline but Raf refused to take no for an answer, saying it was his now and to make him proud with it. He hugged him and thanked him, promising he would do his fucking best. He hopped on the bus with teary eyes, and watched his guardian angel fade as the bus pulled away.

He never saw Raf again. He passed away two years later from heart failure. By that time Kylo was in deep working for First Order, working himself to the bone to show he was worthy. He only found out when he and the guys went for drinks at the old cantina he used to work at to celebrate their work on the StarKiller album.

Sergio, Raf’s nephew who was now the manager, let Kylo drink on the house after telling him the news. As much as the other guys tried to lift his spirits, he wallowed miserably in tequila and whiskey. Truly in mourning of his first true friend and mentor. The only one who knew the whole story at the time was Vic so he lifted a glass, toasting the man. Speaking the words Kylo held in his heart but couldn't put into words.

The memories fade as the weight of arms wrapped around his shoulders along with a pair of soft lips kissed his cheek. "Ky, baby what's wrong?" your soft voice says, full of concern. He shakes his head, finally feeling the wetness on his cheeks. "Just memories baby girl, don't worry about it" he says, turning in your arms and tucking his head in your shoulder. He feels your nails scratch at his scalp in an attempt to calm him. He knows you know the story. He told you everything. He takes a shuddering breath, attempting to compose himself.

"Kylo, I am so sorry man. I know how much that song means to you. We thought we would’ve been done by the time you got here…" Vic says coming up to them, his blue eyes full of emotion. Kylo looks up at him, giving him a warm smile through teary eyes. He knows Vic is telling the truth. He should’ve been more prepared than he was. It was known he was playing that song today, with it being one of the most requested songs on their social media poll. But like always, it hit him right in the heart and sucked him in.

"I know Vic" he says releasing you, wiping one of his red rimmed eyes with his hand. "It's on me, not you. But I can definitely say your performance was moving." Vic gives him a sad smile, finally taking a seat on the couch as you stand by his side. "How about we break for lunch and then you can do yours Ky. I can have Rae move up our order" you say, clicking a couple keys on the sound board.

His mind still swims with visions of the past: of Raf's happy tear filled eyes when he performed for the first time, of his gruff laugh and affinity for odd but comforting snacks, the last hug they shared at the bus depot. He looks over at his guitar sitting in its case next to Vincent on the couch. Obviously more worn but still the same. His only memento of the man who changed his life for the better.

"No, no I have to do this" he says, kissing the top of your head and turning to grab the guitar case. He sees you nod as you take a seat at the soundboard, your hands fidgeting with your headphones. "You want me to record it for you?” Vic asks, shaking his phone in his hand. Kylo nods as he heads into the studio. He hears Vic and Vincent follow him in. He looks over to see you blow him a kiss through the glass. He catches it and puts it on his chest with a soft smile.

He scans the studio room, deciding to sit on a tall metal stool that was discarded in the corner. He grabs it and moves it to the front of Vincent, setting himself atop it. He feels he’s right back in that dim music shop, learning his chords alongside Raf. He tunes his guitar, almost able to feel his spirit with him.

His fingers stop, his mind offering a silent thank you. He looks up and nods to you. He sees Vic and Vincent start recording as the record light goes on. "Hey all this is Kylo from the Knights of Ren, thanks for joining us for our newest segment of Classic Covers. I would like to thank each and every single one of you for your continued support of the band and we hope you like and subscribe to the channels below." He has to tell himself not to roll his eyes when Vic cracks a wry smile at him for once following the approved script.

"This next one is really special to me for a lot of reasons and I would like to dedicate it to Rafael Hernandez Corellia and his family. He meant more to me than I could ever express in words. So in memory of him, this is Fell on Black Days by Soundgarden." His calloused fingers hit the strings, starting into a song that lives in a part of his heart. His version is gritty and passionate, so much like Raf. He feels tears prick his eyes as reaches the end, barely noticing the growing group of people in the ajoining room. All amazed at the outpouring of emotion from him.

He strums the final notes, giving the camera a tearful smile and wave. Vic stops recording and immediately rushs over to give him a hug. He grunts as Vic’s body hits him, pushing the guitar into his gut. He ignores the discomfort and wraps an arm around him, holding his friend close.

A series of applause and cheers come through the speakers when they release. He looks up to see over half the staff and a couple other artists all giving him a standing ovation. You are standing in the middle with tears streaming down your face.

His eyes hold yours and can feel your love emanating from them. He can barely hear you whisper I love you over the crowd but it’s there. He lets the tears finally flow. He has honored Raf in the best way he knew how. He has you and his band mates and his friends. He has D'Kar. He has honestly and truly made his dreams come true.

soooo...yeah that happened. How ya all doing?! Lemme know what you think here or on A03 ❤️

You can find the whole collection here including the original story:

#adam driver #kylo ren au #knights of ren #star wars au #rockstar! kylo ren #tw alchoholism #kylo ren x reader #kylo fanfic #kylo x y/n #kylo ren #music au #adam douglas driver #kylo x reader #starwarsficnetwork #kylo ren imagine #tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw alcoholism #tw homophobia

[docwritesshit]

The Chains that Bind us (HuskerDust)

Summary: Angel Dusts had another tough day at work, so Husk distracts him with a quick lesson on the art of poker

Authors note: Let me just say, I have only played Texas Holdem consistently so that's what you are getting here. Also, the capitalization on certain words is very intentional. You'll see what I mean while you read

Warnings: Abuse mention, alcohol, gambling/poker, sexual mentions but nothing vulgarly described

There were days few and far between Angel wouldn't come home with a new bruise with makeup caked in it, or a new already closed scab of some sort.

Husk knew. He fucking knew and it killed him seeing that spider still going back, under no control of his own and out of fear for his own life, his own soul.

He knew the feeling though. He was on a leash hunself. Alastor made sure Husk was aware of the thin ice he slid on, always quick to brandish more of his sharp teeth when talking with the little cat. The ghost of the shackle he had around his neck squeezed more when Alastor was around, reminding him puppet strings that encircled the bartender, making him dance around like a fucking show pony.

Husk huffed when Angel came back from another day at work, rubbing his eyelids as the spider all but collapsed onto the bar stool, resting his head on the bar top while his hands held the back of his head.

Husk sighed, tapping the bar top right next to the pornstars’ ear. The spider looked up, bags under his eyes heavier than Adam’s head that had to carry all his ego.

”You good, Angel?” The cat asked. The spider sighed low in response, head back down on the counter.

”Val had me do stripper shots right after a few gang bangs, and I'm sore all over.” Angel Dust responded. Husk sighed, pouring the dude his usual, sliding it over to him. Angel looked at the glass, and took a sip, sitting up in his stool a bit more.

“Thanks, kitty.” Angel said. Husk scoffed at the nickname Angel gave him, forcing the small lift of his lips back down.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s my job.” He replied. The actor smirked, leaning his cheek into his palm with his elbow anchored to the counter.

”Y’know… You never told me how things were when you were an overlord.”

Husk bristled at the sudden comment, looking away and reorganizing the shelves for the upteenth time that day.

”Yeah, what about it?” He asked, tone a bit more snappy. Angel chuckled, eyelids drooping a bit.

”Aww~ c’mon, can’t a few friends share some old stories?” The spider smirked more, leaning forward more. “I wanna know what’s under that wall of steel you have over your heart. It’s only fair.”

Husk rolled his eyes, his wings tensing around him as he glared at the sinner on the other side of the bar top.

”Oh yeah, what’s in it for me?”

”Weeelll~”

”Other than the way you usually… provide for other people.”

Angel huffed, tapping his fingertips to the rim of his glass as he thought. Husk folded his arms over his chest, tail beating against the wall behind him in a soft rhythm in tune with Angels incessant fidgeting. The spider finally smiled, snapping his fingers at the cat.

”I’ll take you up on that offer to teach me poker.”

Husk raised an eyebrow. He vaguely remembered shit talking about Angel poker skill when Charlie brought out exercises with board games. Something about humility and sportsmanship, he wasn’t entirely sure. He does recall how even Sir Pentious bested the poor spider, though it may have had something to do with his egg minions sneaking cards into his deck when he thought no one was looking. He did say he would teach the spider the basics of it, but nothing really happened.

”… fine. Let me get tipsy first though, I’m too sober for this.” the cat relented. The spider whooped, taking his drink and going over to the couch in the lobby as Husk made his own drink, rifling through the tables drawers and pulling out a deck of cards.

Husk trudged over to the couch, drinking the whiskey and sighing in content as the sting went down his throat, the familiar burn now settling on his tongue. God, the things that would be so much better in his life if he only ever felt that feeling…

Angel flicked the cat's wing, making Husk hiss and recoil. The spider smiled, sitting on the other side of the table, tossing the deck to Husk. Husk narrowed his eyes.

”We both know I can’t shuffle for shit. Besides, I like seeing your hands at work~” Angel said. Husk clicked his tongue, setting his drink down and shuffling the cards, trying extra hard not to fall on bad habits and count them.

The cards were mixed up as good as they were gonna get, and he started to deal with them.

”In poker, there are a lot of things at play, most only at the mercy of fate itself and probability.” He started to explain, sliding Angel two cards and taking two cards for himself.

”First is Texas Hold’Em. Cause it’s honestly the easiest game for me to explain the hierarchy of the combinations of the ways you could win for me.” Husk said, snapping his fingers and stacks of different colored chips appeared before him and Angel. The spider jumped, and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

”You can summon that on a whim?? How come this only just came up?” He asked, smirking.

Husk shrugged, separating the stacks and sliding Angels over to him. “Did you ever ask before?”

Angel chuckled, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t… he hadn’t asked a lot about the cat, honestly.

Why hadn’t he?

The spider shook his head of those thoughts, and tilted his head as Husk told him the different chips' value.

“White is one buck, blue is two, red is five, and black is ten. Got it?”

Angel hummed in acknowledgement, listening closely as Husk explained how the rules worked, how he would be the big blind and have to start the ante up with only one or a few more chips, depending on how far into the game you are and how many people are playing.

Husk took a sip of his drink, throwing two white chips in, and knocked on the table

”That means a check. Meaning I ain’t got shit and don’t want to raise the ante. Now, if you have something like a high card or a high pair, you would typically raise but I like to see what the deck has to offer before I do anything.” The bartender took a card off the pile and put it to the side.

”You always burn a card before you pull the three cards,” he explained, taking three more cards one at a time and setting them one by one on the table. Angel nodded, taking a quick glance at his cards and leaning forward to get a better look at the cards on the table.

Angel hesitantly threw in a red chip, and Husk lips tilted up, his eyebrows raised a bit.

”Big spender, huh? That shows confidence. Or arrogance. With you, could be one or the other.” He commented, and matched Angels bet with a red chip of his own. Angel huffed.

Was this how he was back when he gambled a lot?

…

The slander spider got his answer after six rounds of the game. Husk was one to get under one’s skin, pull at their faults as they played. He taught Angel Dust as they played, and even folded once and let Angel win a round. But he… To put it bluntly, was a bit of an ass.

Angel snapped a bit after losing for the third time in a row, glaring at the cat.

“Aw… is the little actor mad the only thing he’s good at here is bluffing?” He teased, tail swishing behind him. Angel snarled,

”Oh yeah? Big talk for someone who lost their-“ Angel’s lips sealed themselves, and shook his head. Husk stiffened, his tail stopped swishing. Angel grimaced.

”Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed that-“

Husk held up a hand to silence the rambling, and sighed.

”No, no. I was asking for it. Sorry. Old habits die hard, eh?”

Angel sighed, going over to sit next to Husk, leaving space between them.

“Still, that was shitty of me to say.” he said. Husk hummed, rapping his knuckled under his chin.

”Yeah, no. You see why nobody missed me when good ol’ Al put the collar on me and pulled harshly. I was a dick back then.”

Angel scoffed, and rolled his eyes.

”Yeah, we’re in hell. I’ve seen dicks, of both variety’s, more than I see my own room daily. You’re not the only asshole here.” Angel said. Husk grunted, his wings shuffling a bit.

”That’s not the whole thing… I was a nuisance. The only reason I wasn’t dealt with before Al came is because no one wanted to deal with my cocky ass.”

Angel snorted, and Husk shot him a look, before smiling a bit.

“Alright, poor word choice on my part. Point is, no one wanted to waste their energy on me. I wasn’t feared, or respected. My presence was tolerated and annoying to deal with so they just didn’t bother.”

Angel pulled his lips in a tight line, eyes narrowing as Husk described his experience.

”Oh please, most of the overlords are annoying nowadays. Have you seen the Vs lately?”

Husk barked a laugh, looking at the spider next to him.

”I have… and I have a desire to maul one of them,” he said. Angel chuckled, placing a dainty hand on his shoulder.

”If you do get the chance, make sure it sticks.” Angel responded. Husk smiled lazily, placing a claw over Angel's hand.

”Will do, angel.”

Husk ignored the way he saw Angel's makeup smeared, exposing the fresh bruise on his shoulder. He would talk about it when he needed to.

Being under the thumb of an overlord who treats others like a plaything or a pawn would be demoralizing for anyone. Being the plaything is a whole different story. Husk could feel the ebbs of the phantom metal hanging from his neck. He wouldn’t pretend to know the extent of what that sleazy moth makes Angel go through. He won’t push about how he saw the way his shoulders sagged more today, and knowing the weight had more to it than just tiredness.

Angel had his own struggles, his special hell tailored for him by the one who owned his soul. His own chains made be of the same smoke that fucker breaths, but they held more weight than Hush could comprehend.

The least he could do was to distract him from the weight of his own chains, even if it meant that Husk helped him carry the weight of it. He lessened his load, why not return the favor?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin huskerdust #hazbin husker #huskerdust #angel dust #angel x husk #tw alchohol mention #tw abuse mention

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 11)

previous // next // story index

—————

Beth-Anne wakes up screaming.

Nikolai is jarred out of the best non-medicated sleep he's had in over a month, and he's momentarily confused because his brain can't determine whether the noise is real or part of a dream. With his heart thumping a bit too rapidly, he draws in a long, steadying breath. He opens his eyes and remembers that he's at Stan's place and that he and Beth-Anne had fallen asleep together.

When he rolls over, he discovers her sitting up with her palm pressed flat against her chest. They'd forgotten to close the curtains all the way, and in the dim illumination filtering in from outside, he thinks he can see tears on her face. She's breathing fast, each respiration a shallow but audible pant. It scares him. He's not sure what to do.

He says her name tentatively, pitching it like a question. "Beth-Anne?"

Either she doesn't hear him or she's not capable of processing the fact that he's talking to her. She's staring straight ahead. He doesn't know what she thinks she sees, but whatever it is, it's obvious she's terrified.

He swallows. Gathering his wits and telling himself that he has to do something, he pushes himself into a sitting position. Then, he reaches toward her and places his hand gently on her arm.

Her reaction is absolutely not what he expects.

She lets out a yelp and recoils as if he'd struck her, and scrambles away from him far enough that she gets dangerously close to falling off the bed. She gasps for breath. Her voice is ragged as she gets out a fierce and frightened, "Stay the hell away from me!"

"Beth-Anne," he says, more firmly this time. "Beth-Anne, it's me. It's Nikolai. I'm not going to hurt you."

It takes her a few seconds, but she finally focuses on him. She's still breathing hard, but he thinks she's starting to regain her sense of reality. "Nikolai," she whispers. "I... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says. "I think you were having a nightmare."

She nods. "Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't..." she begins, but then just goes with, "Yeah."

He holds out his hand to her, cautious of touching her again. "Here, do you want me to help you? You're really close to the edge of the bed, you know."

She doesn't take his hand. It seems she's more than capable of moving back toward the center of the bed on her own, but apparently this doesn't mean she doesn't need or want his support. Before he even fully grasps what she's doing, she wraps her arms around him, sags against his chest and begins to sob. Nikolai doesn't even hesitate. He reciprocates the hug, and hopes it'll be enough to comfort her and still the trembling he can feel wherever her body touches his.

Her words are muffled by her tears and the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "I wish it would stop."

"It's over now," he assures her.

She mumbles something that sounds like, "Maybe on the outside."

He doesn't understand what she means, but he doesn't ask her to elaborate. If he were to guess, she's probably talking about the nightmare. She knows there's nothing in the room that'll harm her, but what's inside her head is most likely a whole other matter.

He holds her until she stops crying. It's only a few minutes, but he imagines how it must feel for her. Seconds, or an eternity? When he'd cried in her arms in his front hallway, he'd felt like his tears would never end, and the effort had left him exhausted, humiliated and feeling weaker than he'd felt in his life.

He searches for a way to tell Beth-Anne that he understands, that whatever emotions she's experiencing are valid, and that he'll never judge her for any of it. All he wants is for her to feel safe.

Frustratingly, everything he comes up with sounds like a platitude. In the end, he settles for telling her simply, "I'm here. I've got you."

"Thank you," she says quietly. "Don't let go."

"Not until you're ready."

"I'm sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about that," he says. "I can always catch up on my sleep later. The most important thing is that you're okay."

"I'm probably not," she says. "I'm fucked up, honestly, and sometimes it's really hard to hide it."

"Aren't we all kind of fucked up, though?"

"Maybe everybody is a little, but not like me." She releases a long, shaky sigh. She pulls away from him. "Sorry. You don't need to hear my sob story."

"Maybe not," he says, "But, do you need to tell it?"

"What?"

"You said it's getting harder to hide it. Maybe that's a sign you shouldn't be hiding it any more."

"I don't know," she says. "I want to tell somebody, but..."

"But what?"

"People would look at me differently if they knew. They already do, because of the scars, and it's... I don't know. Sometimes I think if people knew what was really going on inside my head sometimes, they'd run away. They'd think I'm a monster and they'd never want to trust me again."

"You want to know what I see?" Nikolai says. "It's not a monster."

"You don't know everything."

"No, but I'm not clueless. I know somebody gave you those scars. You don't get something like that from bumping into an open cabinet door or whatever."

"No, you don't," she agrees. She inches closer again, and then settles herself next to him. He puts one arm around her, and she leans into him. "This isn't too weird for you, is it?"

"Sitting like this, you mean? No," he says. "What's weird about human contact? Besides, you saw me naked in the bath. If that wasn't weird, then tell me how this is."

"Fair enough." She reaches up to trace one of the scars on her face. "You really don't think these make me monstrous?"

"No, I don't," he says. "The monster isn't you. It's the person who did that to you. You're a survivor and a warrior, and... and I don't care what anybody else thinks, and I don't care if this is inappropriate to say. You're beautiful. Really fucking beautiful, and your scars don't take a single thing away from that."

He hadn't meant to make her start crying again. This time, though, she doesn't sob. She sounds tired and sad, and it makes his heart hurt.

"I don't deserve you," she says. "You, Stan and Milena. You're all too good for me."

"That's not true. You're one of the best people I know, and I promise we all love you, no matter what. We're your family."

"Family," she echoes. She's silent for a while after that, but then almost too softly for him to hear, she says, "It was my mother. She gave me the scars."

Nikolai has the sensation of his stomach dropping several centimeters, and all the muscles along his spine contract. It takes a mighty effort to relax the sudden tension. He doesn't want to telegraph his shock to Beth-Anne, even though she has to know he's horrified.

The scars on Beth-Anne's face are long and heavy, the kind he knows come from having stitches. He's got a small one from accidentally crashing his bike and cutting his forearm on a sharp rock when he was a kid. That had required three stitches and the thickness of the little scar hasn't diminished much at all since the minor injury healed.

He doesn't want to think about how many stitches Beth-Anne had needed. She has two scars on her left cheek and one on the bridge of her nose that never gets completely concealed when she wears makeup. The biggest scar runs from beside her right eye almost all the way to the corner of her mouth. She has one on the palm of her right hand too, but he doesn't think most people notice that.

Her mother!

The notion that any parent could hurt their child at all is disgusting to him, but a woman who deliberately disfigured her daughter? It's repulsive and evil.

Nikolai thinks of his own mother. Elena Pavlenko isn't a physically demonstrative person and she doesn't often express her feelings in words, but he knows with absolute certainty that she loves him and his twin sister Natascha unconditionally. Mama has always encouraged both of them in her own way, and she has never, ever laid a hand on them in anger.

"I'm sorry," is all he can think to say.

"She was going to hurt my sister," Beth-Anne goes on as if he hadn't said anything. "My baby sister Abby. She was five, and I was eleven. I was trying to protect her."

"Because you're a warrior."

"Not that day. I was a child, and I was scared shitless," she says. "Claudia got mad at Abby for spilling fruit punch all over the living room carpet. She was five. Kids that age are fucking clumsy. They break stuff, spill stuff, fall down. Normal people just clean up and move on, but not Claudia. Not that day."

He wonders if it's wrong to ask, but he can't prevent the question from slipping out. "What happened?"

"Claudia was off her face, but that wasn't new. Booze was her vice, and if she ever had a fucking shred of self-control to begin with, it went out the window when she was drinking."

Beth-Anne's tone is flat, as if she's narrating a documentary rather than explaining what must've been one of the most traumatic experiences of her childhood, but Nikolai isn't fooled by it. It's not the first time he's heard her speaking like this. She'd talked to the doctor in Taiwan this way too, the one who was giving them the news about his injury and the prognosis that he might never walk without pain again, much less skate in an international competition. She'd been outwardly masking her emotions then, and she's doing it now. Perhaps, he thinks, this is her way of shielding herself from pain.

"Claudia was so angry. She... she smashed a bottle on the door frame and came after us with it. I was... I tried to keep Abby safe by basically laying on her, and Claudia decided she was going to punish me instead for not letting her get Abby."

"My God," is all Nikolai can manage in response. "Beth-Anne, I don't even know what to say."

"There's nothing you can say," she says. "What can a normal person say to that? She made me clean up my own face in the bathroom, but it wouldn't stop bleeding. I didn't get help until hours later. Not until my coach turned up at our house that evening to see why I wasn't at the rink for her afternoon group class. Nancy, my coach... she fuckin' lost it when she saw me."

"I don't doubt it."

"I ended up in the hospital, and Nancy called the cops, and I got sent to a foster home after that. But I was only there till my brother turned eighteen. He busted me out, and we kind of went on the run for a while. We lived in this old camper van and we were broke as shit, and I lost a lot of skating time, but at least nobody was trying to kill me when it was just me and Jason."

"And what about Abby?" He's almost afraid to find out.

"I don't know," she says. "Jason... Claudia tried to get me back, and Jason said if she did, it'd only be over his dead body. He said he wanted Abby too, and that's when she told him Abby was... she was gone."

"Gone? Like, she passed away?"

"I think that's what she was implying, but Jason and I didn't want to believe that. Jason tried to find out if she was in foster care like I was, but the social workers would never tell him anything because he wasn't Abby's legal guardian. I mean, that was the rule and I get it, but we thought it was bullshit at the time."

"Understandable."

"After a while, Jason told me that we should just forget about it because it would take a miracle to get Abby back with us, if... if she was still alive. And, you know, I think I did forget for a long time, but when I think about her now, I feel like shit for not trying harder."

"You shouldn't," Nikolai says. "You were a kid. What could you have done differently?"

"I don't know. Something."

"Have you tried to look for her recently?"

"No."

"Maybe you should. Milena could help you. She probably knows people who can access confidential records and stuff."

"I'd have to think about that." She closes her eyes. "Christ, this is hard."

"We don't have to talk any more if you don't want to."

"I miss her," Beth-Anne says. "That sounds stupid, considering the last time I saw her, we were just little kids and it's been thirty years. But still..."

"It doesn't sound stupid to me. It sounds like someone who never stopped loving her sister."

"For all the good loving her did."

"Don't say that. You might've saved her."

"For what? For Claudia to have another chance to..." She doesn't finish the sentence, but she doesn't really have to. "You know what the worst part is? Every day, I'm afraid that I'm just one mistake away, one loss of control away from becoming like Claudia. That haunts me."

"You're nothing like that."

She shakes her head. "My anger, it's... I'm fucking terrified of it, Nikolai. It's like this demon inside me, and I'm so scared it's going to get out some day. I love working with all my kids, but what if... what if I...?"

"You won't." He tightens his arm around her shoulders. "Know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because it's not just that you love working with all of us, it's that you love us. If you really love someone, you don't hurt them on purpose, even if you're angry. Besides, you're a good person and you know what's right."

"Is that enough?"

"I'm not a professional or anything, but I think so," he says. "You could ask a professional, I guess. Stan can probably help you find someone, if that's what you need."

"No." She shakes her head once more. "I tried that. I'm not ready to try again."

"Okay," he says. "Is there anything you think could help?"

"Brain transplant?" she ventures.

Despite the situation, Nikolai laughs. "Well, that's one highly-improbable option. I wouldn't like it if you got a brain transplant, though. You wouldn't be you any more."

"That's kind of the point."

"No. We want you just as you are. Me, Stan and Milena, Mariah, all your little kids. I'll bet even that self-important little shit, Brett Eriksson, wouldn't want to change you."

"Hey," she says. "That little shit is your rink mate. No trash-talking."

"Sorry, coach."

"You'd better be." He thinks she's attempting to sound stern, or at least mock-stern, but it lacks the energy to have the desired impact.

"Let's try to get back to sleep," he suggests.

'You can, if you want to," she says. "I'm not sure I'll be able to."

"At least lie down."

"Okay."

They arrange themselves spoon fashion beneath the cozy handmade quilt, with his arm draped around her from behind. She hugs Champion the teddy bear to her chest. Under any other circumstances, they would never do anything like this, but the unspoken need for human warmth and closeness erases any barriers that might otherwise have existed between them.

Regardless of her assertion that she couldn't go back to sleep, Beth-Anne drifts off before Nikolai does. As for him, he lies awake, considering everything that's just happened. He's overwhelmed by the fact that she trusts him enough to show vulnerability in front of him and to share something so deeply personal, and at the same time, he's amazed by her resilience, strength and courage.

You have no idea how wonderful you are, he wants to tell her. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Maybe if you could, you'd be less afraid of your past and you'd feel better about the future.

You saved me, and you're teaching me to look forward, he adds to the silent confession. I wish I could find a way to do that for you.

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #tw child abuse #tw death #tw alchohol use #tw injury #tw blood foster care #beth-anne jones #nikolai pavlenko #stargazersims

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Turning Point

Note 1: I got the idea for this chapter late last night and resisted the urge to work on it then because I was still fleshing it out. Also, I will be ignoring some "canon" information like the Killer Croc file, etc because I didn't care for the canon version. Faceclaim: Ethan Cutkosky as Jason Todd Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader (Sweetie) Warnings: Violence, descriptive child abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, vague reference of disturbing images on a bad guy's laptop. Sweetie as an alternative to Y/N (for those new to the series)

Jason pocketed the key the baker had given him the night before. He'd been scared out of his mind when Batman had shown up. It had been difficult to eat with Batman staring him down, expression entirely unreadable. But the baker had practically dragged the dubbed Demon of Gotham out of the kitchen.

Jason had a talent for moving without being detected. It was a skill he'd been forced to develop early on. So, quietly moving to the doorway the pair had ducked out, Jason began to listen in. They were whispering, clearly not wanting him to hear their conversation. Too late for that.

"He's a kid. I sincerely doubt he's going to kill me if I give him a place to hide out whenever he needs it." The baker had scoffed.

"You can't guarantee that, Sweetie. You don't know anything about him. He broke in. With a crowbar clearly he planned on using it on something." Batman's response made Jason cringe. He never planned on hurting anyone but he hadn't done himself any favors bringing something that could be considered a weapon.

"Pfft, yeah, on my display case! Bruce, I get that you're worried about me. And that's sweet and all. But this kid needs help!" It was at that moment that Jason realized why the baker had looked so familiar. He kicked himself for not remembering sooner. This was Bruce Wayne's newfound love.

But now he knew Bruce Wayne's secret. He took learning Batman's secret identity as his cue to slink back to his seat before his eavesdropping could be discovered. The adults had returned, seemingly unaware of the fact that Jason had overheard crucial information.

After he'd finished eating, the baker, whom he'd later learned to call Sweetie, had handed Jason a pair of keys. They'd explained the copper-colored one was to the bakery and the silver one was to their loft upstairs. They'd told him if he ever got hungry again or just needed a place to hang out for a while, he could let himself in, in a less destructive way, whenever he wanted.

Jason had been confused as to why this complete stranger was so interested in helping him. He'd expected to get hit when he'd been discovered in the bakery. And instead, they'd fed him, given him access to the bakery and their own loft, and had stood up for him to Batman.

He had just slipped out of the bakery for the second time after having been fed yet again by Sweetie and hanging around for what he assumed was long enough for his stepmother and her boyfriend to be passed out before he got home.

Boy was he wrong. As Jason slipped into the run-down apartment and began to silently make his way to his bedroom, his stepmother's boyfriend, Clay, stepped out of the kitchen, right in front of him, with a beer can in hand. Jason froze, hoping Clay wouldn't notice him. Again his hopes were dashed.

Confusion and surprise briefly flashed over Clay's face, followed immediately by anger.

"Where the fuck have you been, you little shit?!" At the man's yelling, Jason took a defensive stance, preparing for Clay's fist to come flying.

Then his stepmother, Sheila, came staggering out of the living room. "S'going on, baby?" She muttered, glazed-over eyes barely registering Jason's presence.

"Your shithead kid finally dragged his ass in! He has no respect for you or me, waiting so long before he finally shows up!" Clay snarled, stepping close enough to Jason to make the boy grimace at his foul breath.

"The fuck have you been?" Sheila demanded, glaring at Jason.

"Nowhere. I-" Jason's attempt at an excuse was interrupted by Clay's fist making contact with his browline, knocking him down to the floor. The blow made it impossible for Jason to register what Clay was yelling at him now. But he could take a guess.

Steeling himself, Jason kicked out at Clay's shin. Knocking the drunken man's leg out from under him. He attempted to scramble backward up the stairs but Clay was on top of him at a surprising speed.

Another punch, this time to his nose, and Jason silently wished it wouldn't be broken later. Followed by Clay's meaty hands wrapping around Jason's neck. Jason lashed out with both his hands and his feet, making contact on numerous occasions. But it was futile. Clay was too amped up on whatever drugs he'd taken to notice any pain now.

Jason could faintly hear Sheila screaming at Clay to let him go, not out of concern for Jason but out of worry that Clay would go to prison for killing him. Jason's vision was getting spotty and he was certain he was either going to die or at least black out and be left on the floor overnight like last time.

Then suddenly Clay's weight and hands were off of him. It became easier to breathe so Jason moved onto his hands and knees and began taking deep gasping breaths. They were a bit painful but Jason didn't care. He could barely make out the sounds of a scuffle behind him but the blood pumping in his ears drowned out most of the commotion.

Finally, once it became less of a chore to breathe and his heart rate, vision, and hearing returned to normal, Jason realized that someone had saved him. He had an inkling of who it was and the sight of his stepmother and her unconscious boyfriend bound a few feet away confirmed it. He heard the sound of laptop keys clacking in the other room. He followed the sound to the living room, where Clay kept his laptop hidden in the locked coffee table drawer.

There was Batman, typing away. Obviously looking for something to gain Clay further charges.

"How did you..." He started, wincing at the scratching in his throat. He rubbed his neck, hoping the swelling would lessen.

"Did you really think I wouldn't keep an eye on you after your little break-in last night?" Batman responded, not even bothering to look at Jason.

Jason watched him for a second, thinking how odd it was that he had the richest man in Gotham sitting on his ratty couch, using his stepmom's asshole boyfriend's laptop. The richest man in Gotham had just saved him. The richest man in Gotham had no idea that Jason knew he was Batman.

For yet another time that night, Jason was proven wrong.

"You seem to like spying on people, Jason." Batman suddenly said, again not looking away from his work on the laptop.

"Not really spying since you're in a common area of my home." If he didn't know any better, Jason could have sworn Batman chuckled at Jason's snark.

"True. But listening in on my conversation with Sweetie last night..." Bruce trailed off and Jason noted that his tone held no anger or hostility, merely amusement. Which just confused the boy even more.

Before Jason could ask or say anything else, Batman suddenly slammed the laptop closed. A sickened look on his face. Clearly, he'd seen something disturbing on Clay's laptop. Which didn't really surprise Jason. Clay would do anything for a quick buck.

Outrage soon washed over Batman's face and Jason remained rooted in place as he watched Batman storm over to Clay. Jason's eyes grew wide as Batman whipped out a red hot ring in the shape of his bat symbol and he couldn't tear his eyes away as the side of Clay's face was branded.

He only looked away when he saw blue and red lights flashing outside the window, growing closer by the second, accompanied by a chorus of sirens. When he turned back around Batman was gone.

But somehow Jason knew it wouldn't be his last encounter with Gotham's guardian.

#sweetie series #batfleck x reader #jason todd #bruce wayne x reader #gn!reader #jason pov this chapter #just to try it out #fic #ignoring snyder's canon #not canon compliant #tw: child abuse #tw: violence #tw: branding #tw: alchohol mention #tw: drunkeness #tw: drug abuse #dceu #snyderverse #bruce wayne's sweetie #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x sweetie #bruce wayne x gn reader

[thehollowwriter]

Blaze has it out for Finn not just because he feels stronger and braver by targeting Finn, but also because he's extremely jealous.

Finn's dad sounds awful on paper, at least to Blaze and others:

•Butcher

•Hunter

•Fom the Abyss

•Very shady

•Never went to any school of any kind

•Extremely powerful

•Was married to another extremely powerful mer

•Is greatly feared and disliked by a lot of the community

•Lacks in expressiveness and emotion

•Was apparently very murderous and violent when he was younger

•Has business with the Leeches, has probably killed people

•Literally wears bones as a necklace

Surely, someone like that would be a terrible parent?

Nope. Silas is a great dad. He shows up to school events and parent-teacher meetings, tries to make as many of Finn's music recitals as possible, he showers Finn with endless compliments (to the point were Finn is able to be very happy being plus sized, to Blaze's shock), is insistent that Finn makes friends, is very supportive of his desires, attentive his needs, etc.

Meanwhile, Blaze's own mom was born in Atlanta, went to school, was popular, graduated top of her class, became a popular actress, is well liked by the locals, is not in fact murderous, is very expressive and emotional etc.

Someone like that would be considered a good parent a child can rely on. And yet... she's an alcoholic, she's violent and aggressive and hurts him frequently, she's fake at work and on camera, never shows up to anything school related Blaze has going on, she doesn't care about anything Blaze does or has to say unless it disrespects her or makes her look bad, wants Blaze to follow in her own... tail? Steps? and dismisses other career interests he may have.

How does someone like Silas, who, for all intents and purposes, might as well be described as a monster manage to be a better, more desirable parent than his own mother, a respectable, beautiful woman with very human features and a great job? How?

And on top of that, Finn, this fat ugly creepy shark, is now close with the octotrio in some way Blaze can't pinpoint, and has made a number of friends in NRC while Blaze has... no one.

It's just not fair.

#sorry for the essay lol #quinn quips #blaze dugal #finn clearcove #octavinelle #silas clearcove #twisted wonderland #twst oc #tw fatphobia #tw alchoholism #tw abuse

[phykoha]

Would ya'll still love me if I made Angelo an alcoholic and tackled that real-life issue because

#blah blah blah #dabbled with it in a different au and honestly being so fr right now fhsgjsd #watch me finally get to that part in the story and everyone is flabbergasted that the 'baby brother' commits the horrid substance abuse #nhgfcxdcfvghjhgvfcdfgh #he has his own problems and he feels like no one is worried about them #like he is with THEIR problems #so alcohol would numb that feeling and make him forget that he's secretly miserable for a while #tw alchohol mention #hea au

[nightmaretherabbit]

💞

Gabriel and Cassidy had a strange family life.

Their mother was abusive and neglectful. And their mom and dad got divorced,due to their mom's lying they live with her full time only seeing their dad sometimes.

Jeremy had a good family life. His mom and dad love him very much. They have a good bond

Susie lived in a house with an alcoholic, abusive father and her timid mother. She thought all households were like this.

Fritz was an adopted child,he hadn't been with his family long before it happened. They were good though

#ntr talks #purplemang0z #ask game #fnaf ask game #fnaf mci #fnaf missing children #fnaf missing kids #fnaf gabriel #fnaf cassidy #fnaf susie #fnaf jeremy #fnaf fritz #tw abuse mention #tw alchohol mention #tw alchoholism #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #fnaf au #my au #change of heart au

[dooodle-bug]

*You made a memorable and charming toast to Queen!

#one of my favorite theory videos of all time watch it if u can <3 #also yeah not my best work but it was more experimental and shit #dooodle draws #utdr #deltarune #toriel #toriel deltarune #queen deltarune #deltarune queen #toriel dreemurr #tw alchoholism #tw drunk #tw alcohol #tw alcohol abuse

[ammonitetheseaserpent]

Ol’ Gunny represents/parallels the cycle of abuse in the Puppington family, and both Clay and Orel’s official loss of innocence is marked by a use of it (the faked death/the shooting of the liquor/killing of the bear). In this essay I will-

#moral orel #orel puppington #clay puppington #arthur puppington #moral orel nature #adult swim #adult swim shows #tw gun mention #tw abuse mention #tw killing mention #random snippets of my day #tw alchohol mention