#tw: torture and abuse mention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere--stuck · 3 months

Note

if you have any more thoughts on the Joker Junior extending the family take I'd love to hear them!! Would J be interested in having Nightwing with them? Or Alfred? I'm not sure how well either of them would take to the venom, but if they have Batman anything's possible

Less ideas and more of an actual fic, oopsie!

---

Three weeks. Three long, agonizing weeks without Tim. Three weeks of hoping beyond all hope that he was somehow fine. That they'd all look back on this and laugh.

But, no. Eventually, Bruce was able to get word that The Joker and Harley had holed themselves up in the abandoned Arkham Asylum, and something in his gut that made him sick knew there was some correlation.

Part of him hadn't wanted Barbara to come along, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to stop her even if he tried. So, the two of them traversed through the crumbling asylum together and followed the echoing sound of Harley's voice singing a lullaby.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird,

And if that mockingbird don't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring….”

Closer, closer. It took both of them every bit of will they had not to sprint through the halls as fast as their legs could carry them. As Harley’s voice grew even louder, Barbara split up to find another way in while Bruce took the lead. His heart nearly leapt from his chest with anticipation as he closed in on her location.

“And if that diamond ring is brass,

Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass,

And if that looking glass gets broke-”

The moment Harley saw him burst through the double doors, she perked up, greeting Bruce with a smile. She was cradling a flower vase in her arms, which she set down onto a covered table. Craning her neck, she shouted over her shoulder. “Puddin’, Hubby's home!”

Bruce’s eyes followed Harley’s gaze, spotting Joker on the second floor where he rested on a recliner. With a flourish, The Clown rose to his feet, turning away from his rabbit-eared television set and popping a pipe from his mouth, tossing it aside.

“Well, hello, dear!” Joker strolled down the stairs, stopping just shy of Batman. He wrapped an arm around Harley, the two of them smiling sweetly at their bat. “Welcome home.”

Bruce all but snarled in their faces, leaning close and baring his teeth. “Where's Robin?”

Both clowns shared a quizzical look.

“Robin?” Joker repeated with a quirk of his head. “There's no Robin here!”

“Maybe he means our little J,” Harley offered.

The Clown Prince of Crime snapped his fingers. “Of course! That's it.”

Meeting the Bat's eyes, smiling back at his scowl, Joker gestured to the other side of the room. To whatever was being concealed behind the large blue curtain. And Bruce couldn't help his rage, shoving the couple aside roughly as he moved to cross the room.

The Joker stumbled back, recovering with the shake of his head and click of his tongue. “He must be so stressed out from work.”

“I hate it when he gets like this. He never knows when ta relax,” Harley shook her head and reached underneath the table, pulling out a bazooka from beneath the tablecloth. She fired, and a band of ribbons erupted from the muzzle, knocking Batman to the floor with a hard thud and wrapping him up like a gift - bow and all.

“Good thing he has us. Hmm, now what say we bring this little gift of ours back to the bedroom to unwrap?”

Joker's grin stretched just a little wider as he noticed the movement of Batman's hand - holding it up just so as if to signal someone, just out of eyesight, to stand down. Joker's eyes crinkled. Perfect. He wondered, was it the eldest birdboy? Or maybe they'd be getting two bats with one stone?

“Y'know, Bat's, we've been doing this little run around for years,” Joker spoke again, approaching his prone enemy. “It's been loads of laughs! But the sad fact is - none of us are getting any younger.”

Harley joined his side, patting her stomach. “That ol’ clock's a tickin’!”

“Quite right, Pooh! So, Harley and I were thinking it's about time the three of us finally settled down together.”

“But rather than experiencing the joys of pregnancy, we decided the best way would be to just marry into the family.”

Hand-in-hand, the clowns walked over their Bat's prone form to each rest a hand on the curtain in front of them.

“But no matter how happy we are to join you, we were a bit disappointed that we didn't really have the chance to nurture them, too,” Joker lamented. “And after all, what better way to officially join the family than to impart a little bit of our personalities to the kiddos? He needed a bit of molding, of course, but-”

The couple yanked on each side of the curtain, the blue cloth sliding and billowing out as it parted - revealing a child strapped to a medical examination table.

“... What kid doesn't?” Joker finished with a grin, drinking in the Dark Knight's reaction.

Bruce couldn't help the exhale of ‘no’ that left him. Couldn't even blink, too horrified to look away from what had been done to Tim. The horror set in all at once, like freezing water flooding through every nerve in his system.

Joker brought Tim forward with the click of a button, the table rolling forward and bringing the boy into the light.

Tim...

His face an acid-washed white. His hair an unearthly green. His Robin costume now replaced with an exact recreation of Joker's own suit. And his face… Contorted in a pained smile and his eyes wide and afraid, unblinking.

“Say hello to Dada, JJ,” Joker cooed.

Tim's eyes, seeming to glow red in the light, shifted from Joker to Batman. He leaned further into the light, locking eyes with Bruce, and laughed. He laughed in a way Bruce had never, ever heard before. He unbound himself from the table, leaping to the floor on scrawny legs - God, how much weight had he lost in such a short amount of time. What had they done to his boy?

All at once, the cold shock and dawning horror inside Bruce shifted - and his whole body was alight with rage, like a fire inside threatening to escape through every orifice as he ripped through his bonds. The shout he made was near inhuman, launching a batarang he had cut the ribbons with directly at Joker's head, only for the Clown to dodge it with ease.

Harsh giggles flooded from Joker's throat, wiggling a finger in a ‘come hither’ motion before jumping onto the now vacant medical table, rocketing off with the click of a button, causing Bruce to almost stumble and reorient himself to take off after him - and leaving Barbara to deal with Harley.

—

Giggles bubbled from Tim JJ's throat as he stared unblinkingly down at his father, body crumpled on the floor, cape draped almost protectively over his prone body. And with giddy glee, The Joker Papa J hopped down from the giant building blocks he was perched upon, where he had sliced at Batman and sent him tumbling down only seconds ago.

It was all a blur for Bruce. The chase. The horrific videos of Tim… Tim's torture. Three weeks. Three weeks of that Hell. Electrocution. Beatings. Torment. Starvation. And it was all his fault. He'd failed him. The rage that had filled him nearly completely, made him seen red, had all been snuffed out.

First Jason. Now Tim. And Bruce still couldn't bring him to end this. His vision swam, and he could barely even focus. Not on Tim. Not on the man who tortured him. But… Wait. Where was-?

With a final hop, Joker landed in front of Batman in a crouch, hovering over him with a sly grin.

“You've lost, Bruce,” He rasped, and just hearing the name on the clown's lips made JJ seize up, his forever-smile momentarily twitching and a flood of nervous giggles escaping him. The clown continued, voice low. “Robin is mine… And now, so are you.”

And with a hearty heft, Joker lifted Bruce up by the scruff of his cowl and cape, as if presenting him. The grin of his face, the look in his eyes, as he looked down on his enemy. So proud of himself, so smug.

And Bruce. He looked in a daze, lost and beaten. Blood dripped from his lips.

This isn't what Papa promised. He said everything would be okay now. That he'd see Dad and Dick and Babs and Alfred again and he wouldn't be mean or hurt him again, because Papa knew he would be good now…

But when Joker met his eyes, something in them changed - his smile warping to somehow become comforting, happier. The darkness in his eyes dissipated, replaced with an excited shine. And with a free hand, The Clown grabbed for a large gun that looked more like a toy than anything.

“Here ya go, sonny-boy!” He said, tossing the weapon.

JJ scrambled forward to catch it. He couldn't help but notice how light the gun felt as he cradled it in his shaking, gloved hands. For a moment, he couldn't look away.

“Make him one of us,” The Joker urged, voice like a hiss.

It wasn't a conscious decision to aim the gun. It just happened. Like one minute, JJ was there and gone and back again. His hands shook so hard that he could hardly keep the weapon straight. Could barely even look at him. At the mask. At the man behind it.

“Tim…” Batman breathed. JJ had never heard his voice sound so small.

JJ would swear he couldn't breathe if it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the wheezing, giggling exhales that escaped him as he struggled to calm down. Tears threatened to pool from his eyes.

This wasn't right. But, Papa knows best. He said everything would be okay afterward. He said he wouldn't be punished again. But, he couldn't. But, he couldn't run, either - too scared. Too weak. He wanted to be home. He wanted his family. He wanted to stop crying, to be able to breathe, to run into his fathers’ arms-

“It's alright now, JJ,” The Joker soothed, recapturing the boy's attention. “Just pull the trigger, and everything will be okay.”

JJ wanted his Papa to be telling the truth. He just wanted everything to be okay. He just wanted it all to stop. Bruce, please forgive him.

His finger squeezed around the trigger-

Joker's laugh filled the room, just as a green mist began flooding from the gun’s opening. It spread through the air and quickly covered both men. Joker laughed long and loud as he clung to Batman. He pulled his Bat into an embrace, a smile so bright and wide it made the corners of his mouth rip, as Bruce began to choke and hack.

The man seized up and shook in Joker's arms. Slow at first, but soon trembling and writhing in agony, barely restrained and pained chuckles escaping him. So much hurt flooding through every nerve and system that almost faculties left him. His lungs burned, his face ached, he couldn't feel his extremities and wouldn't have been able to hold himself up without Joker's hold on him. Bruce wasn't sure if he could speak or even breathe anymore, but somehow his body found it in itself to betray him, forcing laughter from gritted teeth.

Joker took a knee, gently laying Batman to the ground. The bat spasmed and jerked. Tears began to fall from behind his mask, shining on his cheeks in the light. Gloved hands caressed the sides of Bruce's face. Green eyes glinted in the light as they watched each movement of the other man - every sputter, every gasp, every choked out laugh, every pained, slowly blooming smile that wobbled onto his face.

“You must be so scared, aren't you, sweetheart?” Joker cooed. “You've been scared this whole time, haven't you? Ever since that night in the alleyway...”

Batman didn't reply - couldn't. His eyes crinkled as his smile grew involuntarily. All he could do was return the man's gaze with a manic smile that wasn't his own.

Joker stroked the top of his cowl lovingly. “But it's okay now, Bruce. You don't have to be scared anymore. You don't have to be strong. Don't have to hold yourself back. Me and Harl will build you back up to what you were meant to be. We'll be brave for you now. And do you know why?”

Bruce couldn't respond. For one, the agony of whatever this was, whatever Joker had planned for him, blotted out almost all thoughts in his mind completely. Could only tremble and writhe and cry and laugh. Laugh. Laugh. The laughing made it hurt just a little less. But he could still barely even register what the other man was saying. What he could register, though, was the image of Joker slowly leaning down to press his lips to Bruce's cloaked forehead.

“Because we love you.” Joker finished.

—

“Ohhhh, Harley!” Joker's voice rang through the cavernous halls of the abandoned asylum. “Barbie's turn!”

Barbara's stomach sunk to her feet and her heart skipped a beat. Barbie? No. No, there was no way, he could have known her name. Oh God, what happened to Bruce-?

In the middle of her ruminations, Harley caught her by surprise. A jab to the face, the pull of her leg to trip her up leaving her scrambling to correct her fall- only for her to feel hand grasp tightly at the nape of her neck, coiling painfully at the root of her hair. She was shoved onto her stomach, face-to-face with the dirty, cracked tiles of the former asylum’s floor.

“You know what that means! C'mon, Barbie,” Harley grunted, fingers twisting in the roots of her hair. She lunged forward, slamming her face to the floor with a sick crunch. “Let's go party!”

And everything went dark.

… Barbara awoke with a groan. The smell of pennies flooded her nostrils. Her vision was bleary and swam as she struggled to open her eyes.

A dark figure entered her vision from her periphery, and it loomed over a figure clad in purple. And for a moment, just one moment, she allowed herself to hope.

But, that hope crumbled just as quickly as Joker's voice entered her ears.

“You're okay, Bruce, you're okay, sweetie. You're gonna play nice now, right?”

Barbara couldn't help but shudder at the sound of Bruce's laugh in reply.

Hands found their way to Barbara's hair again, this time much softer. Not grabbing, just brushing and stroking almost soothingly.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs ‘n bakey,” Harley sang as she carded her hands through the younger woman's hair. “Y'know, I've always wanted a daughter. A little girl of my own. You think you'd ever want Mama to braid your hair for you? It's so pretty!”

“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Barbie,” Joker greeted. “Your Dad and I were just talking about you. A real chip off the ol’ block. Now all we need is to make it official.”

Barbara watched as Tim approached Bruce, pushing a gun of some kind into his hands. The Batman held it in his hands, smiling down at the weapon - but seemed almost hesitant. Unsure. Like he knew this was wrong. Like the weapon would somehow come alive and bite him.

“Batman, listen to me,” Batgirl pleaded. “Don't do this. Whatever they've done to you, this isn't you.”

“Oh, but it is! And soon it'll be you, too,” Harley corrected, walking back to give herself some distance.

“I know you're torn, Batsy, but I promise this is for the best,” Joker rubbed circles into the other man's back. “We'll all finally be together. Once we get Barbie here, then we'll get Dick and Al. And we'll be a family! They'll never be hurt again. You'll never be hurt again, sweetheart. I won't let anything bad happen anymore. You'll get your happily ever after. You won't be afraid ever again, I promise.”

Tears stung at Barbara's cheeks as she begged. “Batman, please!”

And for a moment, she thought she somehow got through to him. They locked eyes and Bruce smiled at her with a smile that isn't his own. But, she thought she could see understanding or recognition or something in his eyes, and was sure he'd toss the gun away and start kicking Joker's ass.

But, she was wrong.

With a hiss, green toxin flooded all around her. Even over her screams, the sounds of Joker, Tim, Harley, and Bruce's laughter smothered her completely. And soon after, so did her own.

74 notes · View notes

furiousgoldfish · 1 year

Text

for the abused children life is just being tortured and broken for most inane things like being sad or needing attention or making a face someone doesn't like, and then when you despite all efforts grow up, you're supposed to suddenly know how to stand up for yourself?? you're supposed to negotiate your salary?? tell people OFF?? without feeling like you will be crushed to the inch of your life if you even look at someone wrong?? what on the gods good earth

#child abuse #cptsd #avoiding confrontation #getting triggered by everything #tw mention of torture #abusive parents #aftermath of abuse

517 notes · View notes

andersdotters · 8 months

Text

I think the thing that's easy to forget about Arlecchino is that she is not the original Arlecchino. The one that set up the House of the Hearth, the one that greatly abused its members, the one that lied to Freminet about his mother, the one that brainwashed the members to be willing to give their lives for their family was the original Arlecchino, not the current Arlecchino. The current Arlecchino was previously a child raised by the House of the Hearth that succeeded the original Arlecchino through some kind of "serious clash."

The original Arlecchino was painted to be a very cruel person. She'd would greatly punish members that did not succeed in their missions. She lied to Freminet that his mother abandoned him, then used his mother's well being as a way to threaten Freminet into obeying. Going off of one of her subordinates actions, she would've been fine with the creation of orphans if that met taking them in to become later members of the Fatui.

When the current Arlecchino got into power, she changed many things. Where the previous Arlecchino wanted them to give up their lives for the family, the current told them that they must value their lives. Every single one of them was important. Where the previous Arlecchino would punish members for failing missions, the current does not do so, but chooses to give missions suitable to the person.

What I find really interesting about the current Arlecchino is that she is not without morals. When Lyney asks to receive a delusion to help his sister, though she does not react outwardly, her eyes were described to be full of "wrath." She then shows a startling amount of emotional intelligence and asks if that is what Lynette would want. When it comes to Freminet, not only was she furious upon learning he was cruelly lied to regarding his mother, what I'm shocked is she knew about his mother in the first place. She knew what his mother looked like. Freminet entered the House of the Hearth before she became Arlecchino, but she still knew. If you want to look deeper into this, this implies that she purposefully looked into his past and sought out his mother for him.

People may say she's acting. People may say she is acting "nice" to groom the sibings her way, but anger is not something easily faked. Those seemed to be genuine reactions. I do not think that was a lie. However, I'm not saying that she's not lying or manipulative either.

What the most important thing to keep in mind about all of this is what Wanderer and Childe have to say about her. They both fully state that she is insane. She has no problems betraying people. She seeks to control others. She is insane. No ifs, ands, or buts.

I'm just really curious to see how Genshin will reconcile this conflicting information about her.

((check the tags for more of an analysis on her that goes a bit deeper))

#genshin impact #arlecchino #freminet #lyney #lynette #if you ask my personal opinion about the matter i don't think the siblings' view of her or the harbingers' view of her are wrong #i think she has morals #i think she values life #i think she genuinely felt disgust in both freminet and lyney's instances #however at the same time?#i do think she's insane #i do think she has no issues betraying people #i do think that she wants control over people #i don't these things conflict each other #another thing i want to point out? (tw abuse mention ahead)#she was originally a child brought up in the house of the hearth under the previous arlecchino #she grew up abused and tortured up until the point that she went against her abuser #so when you realize that she grew up in this environment it makes sense why she values life #it makes sense why freminet being lied to like that disgusted her so badly #it makes sense why she's insane bc u can't grow up in an abusive household and come out unscathed #but you sure as damn hell come out with the strongest morals in the world lol #did she 'groom' lyney to become her successor? i mean... it's clearly stated that she did i don't deny that #is she manipulating the siblings to her side?#uh yeah duh #but that doesn't make her actions and reactions all a lie #that's the point i'm trying to make here #idk if that make sense #it's just boring to paint her ONLY as a evil emotionless manipulator when like... she has potential for more

147 notes · View notes

ccrisntok · 5 months

Text

Random Ace angst I might delete later

BY THE WAY: Happy extremely, extremely, extremely late birthday, Ace!!!! I drew this 2 weeks ago and never posted it ❤️

No one got him any gifts :(

and the rest of the random doodles

Whoever he's talking about is up to your interpretation. Mine is Whit but that's because I'm violently biased.

This was honestly really weird, I nearly never draw Ace angst believe it or not. It's always either memes or fluff. And when I do I don't usually post it 💀

Random thought: do you think an Ultimate Jockey would fuck with horse betting? You think Ace is like. Banned from races people bet on, bc people only ever would place their bets on him? I feel like if I was a crusty old man who bet on horse races I'd fucking HATE this kid.

Also none of this is vent art or anything btw I just thought the black background + weird pencil brush looked cool

#just pretend i havent been gone for ages #tw abuse mention #bright colors #drdt #drdt fanart #ace markey #angst #omg torturing Ace! woulda guessed!#i should draw drdt more #but also. exhaustion caused by school and an interesting memtal health moment #chapter 2 part 2 drop soon 🙏🏽🙏🏽 i need something to focus on again #tw distress #hes a bit sad

54 notes · View notes

florenceisfalling · 2 months

Text

i have so much fun writing anti as such a specific brand of shitty guy that it makes me insane its so sad that i havent been posting writing of him consistently in years and all my old stuff is garbage. you guys would be insane for the shit i exchange with june on discord. my version of anti is so distant from canon in a lot of ways but not in his pathetic, attention whore, mockery-intolerant, "i will kill everyone in this room including myself" bullshit. like he's not scary because he's skilled or has self-control, he's scary because he will literally do whatever the fuck for attention. he will break his own bones and show up at your house sobbing about it. he will relapse and fuck his dealer and send you pictures of his own fresh and oozing cigarette burns alongside a text that says "wish you were here". he will threaten to kill himself and force you to watch. he will gut your boyfriend alive and deliver you a tape of it. he will break into your house while you're gone, cook you food and leave it on the stove with everything else inexplicably untouched. he will start impersonating you online and blackmail you so bad all your family members block your number. he will test every single boundary you give him. or, he will be self-indulgent, and just kidnap you to torture you every day. and he would rather you beat him to a pulp than abandon him or ignore him.

#what do i even tag this with #my ego posts #my ego hcs #idk i felt like this specific post wtih the inclusion of the word ''you'' was a little too real to leave warnings untagged #i finished some more homework lol #antisepticeye #torture mention #cigarette burn tw #suicide tw #suicide threat tw #stalking tw #death tw #kidnapping tw #blackmailing tw #relapse mention #abuse tw #manipulation tw #addiction tw #drugs tw

30 notes · View notes

snowe-zolynn-rogers · 14 days

Note

What kind of things did eclipse go through when being bought and sold?

Unspeakable things. Abuse of all forms. Torture, broken bones, manipulation, gaslighting, beatings, ect. Basically the only thing that his owners wouldn't do was cut dismemberment, since him being in one piece was in the agency's selling clause.

#sun and moon show #sams #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #bid to lose au #fnaf eclipse #fnaf abuse mention #tw torture mention #tw broken bones mention #tw injury mention #tw manipulation mention #tw dismemberment mention

23 notes · View notes

stemms · 12 days

Text

Do you ever think about c!Tommy’s connection to death after the revival? It seems that c!Tommy’s death and subsequent revival in prison split his life into a ‘before’ and ‘after’. The very idea of having been brought back to life when he was meant to remain dead shocked him and felt utterly wrong, as if he was going against nature, and perhaps, even the Primes.

c!Tommy began to consider his house as his grave and decorate his clothes with flowers, just to mask the smell of his rotting flesh — that’s what he believed, at least.

In addition to struggling mentally with the aftermath of his revival, c!Tommy had to deal with constant tremors, phantom pain, and nightmares related to his death in prison and limbo. He seriously struggled with knitting again, just like when c!Dream would break his fingers in exile to make him more dependent on him.

Every single part of this living nightmare led to c!Dream — the very cause of his suffering.

It only proved that c!Dream owned his soul, body, and mind, didn’t it? :) :) :)

#my c!prime thoughts #dream smp #dsmp #c!primeboys #primeboys (derogatory)#c!discduo #c!tommy #c!dream #tw murder #tw abuse #tw torture mention #tw obsessive behaviour #tw possessive behaviour

20 notes · View notes

synonymroll648 · 1 year

Text

from a vibes perspective, i totally understand why so many people look at keefe and go ‘this guy would be the male equivalent of a wine aunt when he’s older’.

but. but.

taking lore into consideration, in my heart, he’s terrified of alcohol (even if he tries really hard to hide it). because. like. his first exposure is almost guaranteed to be through cassius, and cassius canonically threw a glass extremely close to him at least once when he was, like, 8. maybe cassius wasn’t always extra nasty when he was drunk, but there’s gotta be a correlation in keefe’s brain between risking getting seriously hurt (emotionally or physically) and alcohol consumption that’s really hard for him to shake.

#tw alcohol #tw child abuse mentions #lmk if there's more trigger warnings i should put #i have a thing for hurt/comfort lmao #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #this is brought to you by:#that one fic my brain started writing internally where it's sophie's 21st bday and she's like man i #have saved the world so many times we've all lost count. i want a fucking drink #and keefe's internally like OH GOD OH FUCK in a bad way but externally he's like yeah babe whatever you want!!#and then she's like. i don't wanna do anything super stupid though. and drinking alone is super stupid when you've never drank before #will you stay w/ me? please?#and keefe's like. i cannot say no to that face #so he spends the night doing an increasingly bad job of hiding how bad he's freaking out #because sophie is a safe space and alcohol is not safe and he doesn't know how to deal w/ the two colliding #ESPECIALLY since sophie's just getting dorkier and sweeter as her filter goes down instead of throwing insults or objects at him #(i feel like sophie would be the kind of drunk that's very impulsive and says EVERYTHING that comes to the forefront of her mind #and stellarlune was more than enough to prove that she sees keefe and a lot of the time her brain just goes hnnngh soft little tortured #artist. MY soft little tortured artist.)#yeah but even intoxicated sophie can tell something's wrong even before he flinches super obviously at an empty glass falling over w/o #breaking. and so she's like nah man it's hurt/comfort time and he's like BUT YOUR BIRTHDAY and she's like do you really think i'm #gonna just let go of the fact that i know you're stressed? i'm not a dickhead keefe #so yeah it ends in cuddles. because of course it does #keefe sencen #annnnd out of the drafts this goes. post!

106 notes · View notes

this-world-of-beautiful-monsters · 3 months

Text

frontiers of pandora audio/text logs because this shit has become one of my special interests

warnings for spoilers, will reblog more later, also some of these screenshots are of better quality than others. ids in alt text, credit to the various people who've played these games and let me watch to collect the screenshots.

(tw for racism/speciesism, torture, grief, mourning, character death and child abuse)

27 notes · View notes

nerdpoe · 9 months

Text

In the Shadow of Speculation Part 2

Part 1, Ao3

Heavy chapter, please heed the following; Blood tw vivisection tw descriptions of a flashback descriptions of a night terror descriptions of recovery abled verbiage tw self hatred tw (mild) forced parenthood equivalent (but in a ghost culture way)

Danny took a deep breath and used the Ring of Rage.

A glowing portal formed in the air before him, perfectly stable. Cold, bitter wind blew through it, along with the smell of antiseptic.

Wrinkling his nose, Danny stepped through the portal and closed it behind him.

“Oh, greetings Mr. High King! Are you ready for your check-up?” a nurse Yeti said, looking up from her clipboard enthusiastically.

Danny attempted a smile.

“I’m prepared for it, yeah.”

“Wonderful! Your friends are already in the room for moral support!”

Danny paused.

“Who-?”

“The Lady of the Green and the Lord of Innovation, of course!”

Oh thank the Ancients.

Danny nodded his thanks at the nurse and started for his assigned rooms.

Every inch of the hallways, unfamiliar before the Accident, were ingrained in his memories now.

He’d finally walked from his door to that window without help four months after waking up, and he’d been so fucking proud about it too. He’d hid behind that potted plant during his first flashback. He’d climbed out of that window and crawled on the roof just so he could feel the snow on his skin two months into Physical Therapy.

That was the yeti that had taken the brunt of his anger and hurt on his worst days, nodding at him as Danny passed. That was the room he’d pleaded with Dan to take him away from the hospital, that he couldn’t do it anymore, that he just wanted to go home-that was also the room Dan had set his foot down and said that he’d play the bad guy for Danny one last time.

And oh, how Danny had despised him for it.

But it had worked. Danny, with someone who was there for the sole purpose of taking the verbal assaults meant for his Physical Therapists and himself, who was only there to snipe back and deliberately egg Danny on, helped Danny find the energy to push forward.

And Danny still felt awful about that.

Danny passed the table he had eaten his first solid meal at, one month after waking up, and took a left.

There it was.

The door to the rooms that had been his sanctuary and his prison, right up until they hadn’t been needed anymore. The first place he’d seen when he’d woken up, and then been amazed that he’d woken up at all.

With a deep breath, Danny pushed it open.

“Hey man!”

“Danny!”

Danny’s smile was weak, and he was holding back tears in the face of so many memories he hated and adored in equal measure.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming.”

~~~~~~

Dan knew he was asleep. Dan knew he was awake. Dan knew he was somewhere in that awful inbetween.

He was in his parents basement. No, wait. They weren’t his parents. They’d never deserved the title.

He was in the Fenton’s basement.

The world kept glitching out, the colors kept melding together, and the only thing that stood out was the overwhelming feeling of disbelief and terror.

Little him was strapped to a table. Little him was strapped to a table. Little him was-

Stop.

Assess.

What was going on?

Little him was strapped to a table; he was locked in place. He was in his Core form. It was…damaged. It was damaged.

Why?

Who would…?

There was a sliver missing. They’d torn a piece of him off. They’d tried to peel him open. They’d-Little him would be crippled.

If he survived.

But he had survived, hadn’t he?

Little him’s core was strapped to a table, damaged, and there was no resonance coming from it. There were vials upon vials of ecto-blood on the tables.

That was a kidney.

That was a stomach.

There was blood on the floor.

There…there was blood on his shoes.

Dan floated off of it, listening to the dripping sounds it made as it rolled off his soles.

The door opened.

Two monsters walked through, all giant bug eyes and sharp metal knives.

Dan had two options.

He could kill the things that had done this.

Or.

He darted forward to break the straps and shoved Little him’s core next to his own, where it would be safe, where it could recover as it leeched his excess energy off of him.

The world glitched again.

Dan was standing in Jazz’s living room, hand digging into his own chest. Searching.

With a shaking breath, he pulled it out.

He’d only carried Danny’s core next to his own for two years, but he still found himself searching for it in moments of weakness.

He hadn’t been the best Spirit to host Danny’s core, but he’d fought tooth and nail to do it. Vengeance Spirits could not normally house Protective Spirits.

It was why he’d done the whole hero thing after; it would help Little him heal if he did. And when he scared the people he was saving away?

He’d opted to train the little fledgling heroes. He’d make sure they grew up safe, protected from actual villains and, if needed, their own personal ones.

Anything to make sure he didn’t have to see another kid so close to completely shattering into Nothing, he never wanted to see that shit again-

Dan forced himself to move away from the couch and towards the kitchen.

It was pointless to dwell on the past. He did everything he could; if the Twerp wanted to be next to those monsters, that was on him.

So what if he’d fucked up their relationship? At least the kid was alive.

Dan’s hands still shook as he made himself a cup of coffee.

…

Maybe he’d just check in. Just for a bit.

~~~~~~

Dan may have failed steps one through ten.

It had probably started when he’d played surrogate for the Runt, if he was completely honest. There was no way Dan hadn’t absorbed a little bit of his Protective nature.

Point was; Dan genuinely could not remember going to Arkham.

He just sort of…came back to himself while floating ominously above it.

He could see the alarm lights flashing below him. The humans running for their battle-stations.

The inmates being herded deeper into the complex.

Dan felt his eyes grow hotter, felt his claws dig into the flesh of his palms.

They were right there. Right fucking there. All he had to do was phase through the compound and just reach into their chests.

It would be so. Fucking. Easy.

In fact, he even caught a glimpse of Maddie through one of the windows.

Dan snarled, lifting a hand, the ectoplasm pooling in it hotter than anything he’d made before-

-and he was in the kitchen. Mom was trying to make hot dogs, but they kept fighting back. She was laughing at a dumb meme he’d shown her. His homework was covered in mustard from the fight with their food.

“I guess you can tell Mr. Lancer that you ‘mustard’ up every resource you had!” Dad called out as he walked by, and Dan felt so loved-

-Dan dropped the hand.

Maddie was hauled past the window and to safety.

Fuck.

Fuck this place.

Fuck this city.

Fuck everything about this situation.

~~~~~~

Batman grappled his way to the tallest watchtower in Arkham, keeping an eye on Phantom the entire time.

The guard that was already in the tower-a new hire, if he recalled-nervously stepped up to fall in line beside him.

Batman waved him off.

He knew Phantom. He knew that the man wasn’t actually a villain.

A Training Villain wasn’t something Batman had seen younger heroes needing, but when the Ghost in front of him had started play-fighting with the younger heroes to teach them through safe combat, the Bat had been mentally kicking himself.

It was a perfect job to train younger heroes, and Batman couldn’t help but feel like he’d failed the previous iterations by not realizing that.

Robin was still angry that he’d fallen for it, of course he was, but Batman could not deny that Phantom’s strange method of training had been instrumental in helping his youngest work through his rage.

Just like he could not deny that he and Phantom had something in common with Arkham.

It wasn’t hard to assume that the walls held a person responsible for the death of someone in the man’s life.

Phantom had only shown up to Arkham a total of three times.

The first time, he’d just hovered outside of it, holding his hand to his chest. He’d done nothing, and left in an hour.

The second time, two years later, he’d broken two walls and shattered a watchtower, screaming for someone to come out and face him. Robin had been on scene before Batman had time to distract him, convinced it was the same Phantom he was used to dealing with.

Surprisingly, the sight of Robin had been enough to still the beast Phantom had become. He’d toned down, forced Robin into a surprise hug, and then disappeared. Robin had been livid, but Batman had learned something about the Training Villain he didn’t think he wanted to know.

The man knew loss, and Batman was pretty sure he knew it on the same scale Bruce did.

From there, it wasn’t hard to figure out the most likely objects of his wrath.

Phantom was a Ghost. Ghosts had a very, very bad history with the American Government. The Anti-ecto acts had just been revealed to the public by Lois Lane, and the country was tearing itself apart.

The people who had been the most avid supporters had been, currently were, the Dr.s Fenton.

Who were housed in Arkham.

Batman had said nothing. He had gone back to the cave and quietly updated Phantom’s file, and left it at that.

The third time was the present.

Phantom had almost lost his temper. Almost.

But he’d reigned it in.

“Phantom,” Batman started, staring at the figure above him, “I know you can hear me. What’s happened?”

The Ghost stayed where he was for one hundred and twenty seconds, before slowly gliding down to the Bat.

Phantom did not say anything.

He did not have to.

His eyes were anywhere, everywhere, but where he actually was. When he actually was.

Batman quietly hissed through his teeth.

Alright then.

“I’m here if you want to talk, otherwise we can be silent. Just know that at this moment, you are not alone.”

Phantom chose silence for a good seventeen minutes.

Then Phantom opened his mouth.

“I should hate them,” the voice was halting, tired, “I should, I really should. They loved me so much, but they…they tore him apar-“ Phantom’s voice failed him.

Batman said nothing, and gave the Ghost time to collect himself.

While he waited, he compartmentalized what he’d learned. The Fentons had torn apart someone very, very important to Phantom.

And Bruce had an awful feeling that he meant that literally.

“I can’t be here,” Phantom said instead of finishing his previous thought.

Batman nodded.

“You didn’t hurt anyone this time, so go; I see no reason to stop you.”

Phantom didn’t grace Batman with a goodbye, but the Bat swore he felt an invisible hand squeeze his shoulder after the Ghost vanished from sight.

~~~~~~

Danny laid on the examination bed, one hand being held by Sam while Tucker lounged on the bed at Danny’s feet. They were talking about their new companies, how the world was changing, and distracted Danny while Frostbite examined his vivisection scarring.

Danny looked everywhere but Frostbite as the yeti pushed and prodded. He didn’t want to look at his chest if he didn’t have to, but he also didn’t want the embarrassment that was accidentally meeting his doctor’s eyes in the middle of a physical.

“Fantastic news, Young Savior,” Frostbite said, interrupting their idle chatter, “Your core, while still healing, is recovering at a phenomenal rate. Truly, Lady Gotham is good on her word! At this pace, your core should be fully healed in a mere century!”

Danny hated that. He hated that it needed to heal, and he hated that he was going to outlive his friends.

Sam and Tucker leaned a little closer, offering comfort for something that they knew the Ancient before them wouldn’t understand.

“Better news, the physical damage appears to be almost completely healed. The regrown kidney and stomach are showing no signs of failing, and the scarring should be the only nuisance. I recommend the afore-mentioned stretches and lotion to help the scar tissue conform with your movements.”

Danny nodded, sitting up as Frostbite stepped back and removed his hand from inside Danny’s torso.

“I also see no issue with your residual limb, although it does appear you’ve been forgetting to remove the prosthetic often enough to cause some light bruising. Can’t say I don’t understand, but perhaps write a reminder and pin it on your bedroom wall.”

Danny avoided Sam’s flat look.

Tucker just flashed his phone screen at Danny, the words ‘I can make you something really cool with rockets it you let me’ sprawled across the screen.

Danny absorbed Sam’s flat look and mirrored it towards Tucker.

Tucker threw up his hands.

“Ancients forbid I do anything, I guess,” the techie sighed dramatically.

Once Danny pulled himself together and got ready to leave, Tucker threaded an arm around his own.

“So, wanna go ding-dong-ditch Walker?”

Danny paused, then grinned; and for the first time in two weeks, it wasn’t a lie.

~~~~~~

Danny waved back at Sam and Tucker as they went through their own portals. They would definitely have to get together and hit the town on Earth.

Danny walked through his own portal and ran face-first into a mass of muscle.

Dan steadied him as he bounced back.

Danny was immediately hit with conflicting, very confusing emotions.

He was looking at Dan, his enemy. He was looking at his father? No, it was Dan. Wasn’t that the same-?

Danny shook his head. He’d never gotten a straight answer about why his Ghost self’s view on Dan had changed so dramatically; everyone always shied away from the question.

“Can I ask what you’re doing in my apartment?” He asked instead, stepping back and closing the portal.

“Just making sure you’re settling in, Tiny.”

“We’re the same height?”

“Nah, we’re not.”

Danny shoved the absurdity of their interaction in the back of his head and made for his couch.

“Well, whatever you’re doing here, here’s to hoping it involved making dinner,” he groaned, sinking into the cushion and pulling up his left leg to start the tediously cumbersome process of pulling it off, “because per the doctor, I’m supposed to keep the prosthetic off for the rest of today.”

“I was gonna order out. Move, we’re watching Sailor Moon.”

Danny whined pitifully when Dan physically picked him up and moved him to the side.

He fought his instincts, and his instincts won.

He leaned back and allowed Dan to take the prosthetic off, clawed fingers delicate for all that the man snarled under his breath.

He also allowed the man to commandeer the TV; not something he would even allow Jazz to do.

“Why do I let you do these things?” Danny muttered, eyeballing the quasi-villain on his couch as said villain massaged the stump just below his knee.

Dan snorted.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Ugh, no one tells me anything.”

“We’re pacing you,” Dan corrected, blunt for all that the words were careful, “when you’re back on your feet, you’ll get the non-vital details we skimmed.”

Danny didn’t bother arguing; he’d already tried for the better part of the previous year. For some reason, the yetis took Dan’s side, too.

Instead, they fell into a companionable silence, appreciating Sailor Moon. Which was fine by Danny, since he never knew how to behave around Dan. It was only interrupted by the delivery of the Greek food Dan had ordered out.

Danny was on his second Gyro when Dan finally broke the silence.

“So I heard there was a rogue attack outside your apartment,” he said idly, and Danny could feel his eyes on him.

“Yeah.”

“So you got to see the Bats in action?”

“…Yeah.”

Dan leaned in, eyes going critical.

“What needs improvement? Don’t lie; that ‘yeah’ was one that means you weren’t impressed.”

Danny shrugged.

“I dunno, just…they didn’t have someone who’s only job it was was to evacuate the people, or help the injured. It was just offense, no defense.”

Dan snorted and leaned away.

“Kept telling that to Robin, but no; ‘Father this’ and ‘Father that’.” Dan shook his head, chewing thoughtfully on his rack of lamb. “So. What are you gonna do about it?”

Danny blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve seen what they need, and I’m not stupid enough to think you’ll stay out of the game forever. What are you gonna do about it?”

Danny looked down at his Gyro, frowning.

What was he gonna do about it?

He couldn’t fight, not like he used to, not really. But if the Bats were tanking, then…he probably wouldn’t really have to.

“I’ve been in medical facilities for almost a year,” Danny said slowly, ignoring how Dan stiffened next to him, “I think I’ve picked up a few things. Frostbite would probably be thrilled if I asked him to teach me, honestly.”

Dan relaxed, humming thoughtfully around the bone he was chewing on.

“I think…I’ll be a medic.”

@simplestoryteller @gildedphoenix I do not suffer PTSD, and I've never had a life-altering injury. That said, I know people who have, for both of those. I apologize if my descriptions are off. Here's some notes to piece together what this chapter outlines, for those that want the sparknotes as to what Dan is alluding to. From my notes; "Ghosts can carry another ghosts core if that core is injured, to protect and promote healing. Typically, the father or mother figure does it. In this particular instance, Dan did it. We will see in a bit, but for Dan their relationship went from enemies-warden-person I gotta apologize to-person I’ve got to save-the core housed next to mine-son. For Danny, it randomly went from enemies to ‘why do I think dan is my dad more than I think my dad is my dad’." This is where the "forced parenthood" tw comes into play, because Dan felt like he had to do it, and due to instinct Danny subconsciously got dragged along for the ride. Also, if it wasn't clear from the age list on the first chapter and the timeline presented, I'm playing around with Lian and Roy's timeline; Dan's first year he babysat her, and then she died. She came back only four weeks prior to Danny re-entering the human world.

#in the shadow of speculation #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #blood tw #vivisection tw #flashback tw #night terror tw #descriptions of recovery #physical therapy mention #self hatred tw #abled verbiage tw #forced parenthood tw #healing through helping others #past abuse #past torture

192 notes · View notes

my-lovely-writing · 2 months

Text

Obey Me! Lucifer with an abused teen MC.

Little notes: Haha, sorry that was a bit of a hiatus! I've been struggling with, well...life. You know how it is. But I'm back because I have fictional person brain rot. If you don't want to see anything besides my hero/villain stuff, feel free to blacklist the obey me tags.

Also, I'm kinda new to the obey me! fandom, so I'm sorry if the characters are a bit off. I won't be writing about some of them until I've learned more about them.

With that said, if you have any triggers, please check the tw tags before clicking below. This is about an MC who's been abused.

Lucifer

Lucifer found it a bit strange how quickly you took to him.

He makes you do your homework before class tomorrow? No complaints. He reminds you of bedtime (which you have because nobody's allowed to stay up later than Lucifer in the house of lamentation due to the fact that there may not be one left by morning)? "Okay, no problem! I can study TSL later." (Still trying to hang out with Levi, are you?) If anything, you seem grateful for his overbearing tendencies.

Really, with the chaos of his brothers, he's a little bit weirded out by how much trouble you don't cause. Maybe you're just scared of the demons?

Yeah, that has to be it. Works for him.

Except...it doesn't.

Not when he comes in screaming at Mammon for yet another failing grade and you start trembling, face pale and legs locked from your place on the couch, as if you don't quite know whether to freeze or run.

Dammit, he needs to take care of this lest the angels see you as a hostage and another celestial war is started. Besides, Diavolo doesn't want the human exchange student terrified, he's trying to foster relations.

So, for once, Lucifer forgoes stringing Mammon up from the ceiling, much to everyone's surprise (and your and his shared relief) and instead stalks off to his office to calm down with his favorite cursed records.

Later that night, when he's sending everyone to bed, he saves you for last. "MC, please follow me to my office."

His tone is gentle, reassuring even, but you know better than to mistake it for a request. Your mind races as you follow him on shaky legs. What have you done now? Idiot!

When you reach his office, Lucifer gestures for you to sit in the armchair across from his desk. It's surprisingly comfortable as you sink into it, but you can't help feeling like you're being swallowed up. Is he going to eat you?

As he sits in the chair across from you, it doesn't seem like it. Yet.

"How are you adjusting to life in The Devildom?"

You can't figure out his game here. His face reveals little, but you get the sense that he's asking a question without asking it.

"I'm adjusting," you say simply, expecting him to drop it at that. You're just a mortal, after all.

"I asked how you are adjusting," he counters. "It must be a big shift for you."

Really, it must be, he had realized earlier in the confines of his office—he and his brothers struggled enough after the fall, but you, in your human ways, had not even realized the existence of magic or god before coming here, and now you're surrounded by demons? Not to mention that you're still a child. Lucifer doesn't like to curse, usually finding such foul language beneath him, but he doesn't know what to call it other than a mindfuck.

The Avatar of Pride's efforts to push away the tinge of guilt that accompanied said realization have been in vain. He and his brothers haven't exactly been nice to you, have they?

He's long decided to help you adjust, if only to get rid of this stubborn and unbecoming guilt, but he can't exactly do that if you won't tell him what's wrong and you're just staring at him like a gaping fish, so he doubles down. "Are you experiencing any difficulties, MC?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck—if your mind was racing before, it's moving so quickly now that it's burning into ashes that, somehow, through the magic you've just learned exists, are blown away by the wind to spell those three words.

"MC?" Lucifer repeats your name, eyes widening in that half a millimeter of concern Diavolo talks about (referencing that one chat, I forget the actual measurement and I know his eyes technically widened in surprise, but give me a break) . Is this a human thing? No demons he knows of are this...weak. It's an active effort for him to restrain his judgement as he raises his eyebrows at you which, finally, seems to prompt a response.

"P-please, I'm sorry, I'll do better! I'm sorry for whatever I did. I w-won't do it again, don't eat me!"

Well...

Suddenly he feels like an ass for judging you. Just what ideas has Mammon been putting into your head? You look like you've seen your own ghost. And again, he reminds himself, you are a weak and defenseless human child in a world of demons.

"Nobody, not even Beel, is going to eat you. As our human exchange student, I won't allow you to die before the year closes," he says, lips pulling into a frown, studying you more intently now and watching the way you squirm as he looks at you, back ramrod straight against the armchair. What is going on with you? "Why do you believe that I would eat you?"

"I, uh..." Okay, so you don't think he'll eat you, but it's never good when an adult looks at you like that. "I don't know, you seemed upset earlier and now I've been called in here, so I thought I might have screwed up somehow—not, like, arson or anything, but I thought...I thought you'd find something."

"You thought I'd find something?" Lucifer stresses the word.

"...Yes?" you say with all the hesitance of someone on death row confessing to a crime. You swear you see Lucifer's eye twitch for just a split second.

Meanwhile, Lucifer's got it. At first, he didn't really pay all that much mind when Diavolo mentioned that you come from "troubled circumstances", mostly hoping that you wouldn't be just as troubled and therefore troubling yourself, but he's starting to see that you are—just in a different way than the others.

Of course, he doesn't outright mention or address the clues he's just put together—The Avatar of Pride can tell better than anyone that you're hiding your past as well as you can, which is, admittedly, not well, but he's been persuaded to humor you.

"I am not a sadist." Okay, he is, but it's better that you not know that. He continues, "I am not looking to find something to punish you for and, while there are some things I would kill you for such as threatening my brothers, Diavolo, or the Devildom, I have no intentions of causing you harm under regular circumstances. You may get an F on your math test without fearing me or any punishment I would give you, MC."

You blink as you process the words, a little bit of the fear edging out of your body. "I can?" Your voice is tentatively hopeful.

"You can," Lucifer reaffirms, shuffling his paperwork around, if only for your benefit, as tears begin to brim in your eyes. He allows you to save face. "Go to bed. You're welcome in my office if you ever need to talk."

"Thank you," you mumble to him as you hurry from the room. You don't know what this means, but you know you're not dead and that's good enough.

The next morning, Lucifer's brothers are woken up earlier and met with a stern talk about being kind to you, accompanied by the reminder that you are a child even by human standards who is adjusting to life in literal hell and the threat of them having to adjust to hell a second time over (a punishment—Lucifer's punishment is the second hell). "We're building relations with the exchange student for Diavolo," he justifies explains.

His brothers aren't terribly thrilled with the idea of cozying up to a human, but they agree because they remember how hard the fall was for them.

Asmodeus, being the most familiar and cool with humans due to his pact with Solomon and finding your fearful, doe-like nature adorable, offers to take you out clubbing—to which Lucifer reminds him of the child thing.

Fine, fine, no clubbing. He'll pamper you instead, you certainly have enough split ends to suggest you could use a haircut.

From then on out, a new rule is established where each of the brothers, Lucifer included, have to spend time with you every so often with one or more brothers spending time with you each day of the week.

Needless to say, you're confused by the sudden kindness but you soon don't mind it, finding yourself slowly warming up to them—and, much to the shock of your ruined self-esteem, they to you.

Lucifer is pleasantly surprised and secretly grateful to find that his brothers get into less trouble with you around and, eventually, even more pleasantly surprised to find that you seem almost normal around them. You no longer eat in silence at the dinner table, refuse to meet their eyes, or cower like a puppy used to getting kicked when they raise their voices at each other (everyone has learned not to raise their voice at you, even Satan).

It's not long before Lucifer is calling you his best behaved child sibling. He even goes so far as to have everyone retake the family photo with you in it.

Is there any way he can turn you into a demon? He'd like you to be his child sibling for forever, and humans die far too quickly. As far as Lucifer's concerned, Satan has something new to research.

And it's not as though you don't seem to have some level of darkness in you. Just the other day you heard screams coming from the lower levels of Lord Diavolo's castle and followed them in spite of your fear, kind heart wanting to aid whoever was suffering.

According to Barbatos, you didn't even flinch when you found him torturing your parents, pliers still gripped around one of your dad's bloody fingernails.

Hell, you even asked to join in! (How Barbatos responded to that, I'll let you all imagine lol)

Also, Lucifer will never admit it, but he's quite possibly never felt more pride than the time you, Satan, and Belphie pranked him with a whoopie cushion on his desk chair. Normally he would have beat his brothers with it, but he could tell from the less than ideal invisibility cloak over the object that you were involved and hid a smile from prying eyes as he sat on what felt like his throne despite the ensuing fart noises.

And that's how his family of seven became eight once again.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obm #writing #drabble #I'm back #again #tw implied abuse #tw abuse #tw abused teen #tw low self-esteem #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #avatar of pride #mine #my-lovely-writing #tw implied neglect #tw torture #tw mentions of low self-esteem

25 notes · View notes