#child negligence tw

[bad0gs]

⠀⠀⠀ ◜   ♱   :    ₕₑₗₚ    𝐌𝐄,    i've    got    𝖓𝖔    𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑    to    sell.    my ǝloɥʍ    existence    𝙸𝚂    𝙵𝙻𝙰𝚆𝙴𝙳

sony   wm-d3   and   headphones   blasting   on   the   subway   to   work   /   weary   from   the   sleepless   night   before,   the   cacophony   of   new   york   screaming   echoes   outside   a   barren   apartment   you   now   call   home   —   yet   the   feeling   of   displacement   atrophies   at   the   nape,   the   scent   of   silk   cuts   and   davidoff   cool   water,   the   inexplicable   comfort   of   pretending   to   be   someone   else,   reputation   to   uphold   and   boy   aren’t   you   a   bloody   disappointment!

◜   ♱   :    𝗗𝗢𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗘𝗥.

full name.   dante   theodore   valmont. meaning.   enduring   \   a   gift   from   god   \   hill   of   the   vale. nickname.   dan   or   danny   (   absolutely   despises.   )   any   sort   of   reference   to   the   divine   comedy   (   also   hates.   ) agent tenent. age.   thirty3. dob.   october   twenty   -   sixth,   making   him   a   scorpio. pob.   croydon,   london. pronouns.   he   /   him, cis male. residence.   previously   mayfair,   london   now   resides   in   manhattan   (   upper   east   ),   new   york.      education.  bachelor of law   at   oxford, later completed a phd in political science.    occupation.   previous agent for mi5, current undercover agent for the fbi,   being   a   sneaky cunt.    religion.   hardcore atheist, family was all that he had to believe in and there's barely of that left. actively denies that a 'higher being' exists. orientation. bisexual, biromantic. hardly gives a shit.

◜   ♱   :    𝗥𝗨𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡.

height.   six   foot,   two   inches. clothing.   relaxed   tailored   slacks   and   handcrafted   sweaters.   wool   coats   and   the   occasional   washed   levi's   501s   with   black   loafers. well crafted suits with his father's leather watch and signet ring. scent.   ​​​​​​​davidoff's   cool   ​​​​​​​water,   ​​​​​​​mixed   ​​​​​​​with   ​​​​​​​the   asectic   ​​​​​​​bite   ​​​​​​​of   lingering   ​​​​​​​silk   ​​​​​​​cuts.   ​​​​​​​ noticable   features.   dimples   ​​​​​​​around   ​​​​​​​the   ​​​​​​​smile   when   ​​​​​​​he's   ​​​​​​​about   ​​​​​​​to   ​​​​​​​lie   ​​​​​​​through   ​​​​​​​his   ​​​​​​​teeth,   ​​​​​​​small   circular   ​​​​​​​burn   ​​​​​​​marks   ​​​​​​​around   ​​​​​​​his   hands   from   younger,   navy   blue   eyes   inherited   from   his   father.    akin   to.   napoleon   usher   (   tfothof   ),   kendall   roy   &   nate   sofrelli   (   succession   ),   sebastian   (   cruel   intentions   ),   don   draper   (   madmen   ),   kevin   lomax   (   devil's   advoate   )

◜   ♱   :    𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗘𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧.

you    only    live    twice,    or    so    you've    been    told.    a    young    blighter    in    middle    class    england,    another    product    of    a    single    mother    and    absent    father    fate.    hardly    destined    for    much    when    the    world    couldn't    give    less    than    a    supersilious    shit    about    you.    backed    into    a    corner    by    playground    bullies    far    taller,    you    get    mean    when    you    become    nervous.    come    home    from    school    with    sickly    purple    and    green    blossoming    around    the    eye,    a    prideful    grin    on    the    lips.    find    a    man    tailored    in    dark    green    waiting    in    the    kitchen,    bumming    a    burning    cigarette    with    your    mother    (    eyes    hardly    met,    why    aren't    they    met    ?    )    you're    told    to    pack    whatever's    necessary,    get    prepared    and    say    goodbye, dad's    here    to    take    you    home    with    an    opportunity    of    a    lifetime.   

the    first    of    four.    old    habits    don't    die    with    the    old    man,    they    fucking    repeat.    seen    as    revenues    before    bloodline,    his    hand    settles    above    your    bruised    eye    before    reshaping    you    entirely    and    it's    the    closest    thing    you'll    call    familial    affection.    leashed    with    a    ralph    lauren    tie    and    sent    off    to    the    best    school    bloodied    money    could    buy.    to    be    a    valmont    was    to    learn    how    to    kill;    not    with    a    fist    but    with    a    smile    ⎯    deceive    to    slip    the    knife    in    their    back    before    realisation    pours    out.     

history    told    before,    you    follow    in    your    father’s    footsteps.    step    past    silver    gates    of    mi5    and    begin    vigorous    training,    like    childhood    muscle    memory.    icarian    how    you    impress    mentors    and    surpass    peers,    (    THIS    IS    WHAT    YOU'RE    MEANT    FOR:    know    deep    down,    somewhere    under    cold,    reticent    gaze,    he    is    proud    of    you.    right    ?    )    pressure    throbs    at    the    fingertips,    the    golden    boy    wings    itch    at    your    back.    you've    learned    to    survive    on    this    hunger    for    so    long,    callously,    the    mind    reaches    for    something-    anything.    it's    a    fine    line    you    oscillate    on,    reveal    sharpened    canines    to    flashing    cameras    as    if    blood    and    coke    hadn't    soaked    in    earlier.    the    thrum    remains,    a    lingering    constant    that    gnaws    at    the    bloodline.    your    mother's    very    hues    staring    back    from    the    broken    mirror,    nothing    but    pity    that    falls    upon    the    burning    icarus.    that    is,    until    the    fiery    source    dies    out. 

for    a    deity    so    distant,    the    absence    is    felt.   four    raven    black    umbrellas    stand    and    watches    the    fall    of    a    king.    lowered    into    the    ground    six    feet    under,    the    final    curtain    call    of    vincent    valmont    and    all    it    took    was    a    heart    attack.    (    mundane,    ordinary,    bleak:    everything    he    rescued    his    children    from.    )    london    haunts    the    periphery    and    you    can’t    call    it    home    no    longer.    desk    packed    and    find    yourself    doing    an    impersonation    of    someone    well    strung    -    as    if    grief    isn’t    etched    into    sinew    and    marrow.    find    call    it    good    old    english    cynicism,    wrecked    by    the    relief    of    being    unknown.    how    instincts    lead    with    grey    lies    and    charming    white    smile    through    the    interview,    so    what    if    ego    inflated    a    few    stories    ?    and    christ,    despite    it all; your    father    was a    magniliant    figure,    and whatever    was    in    him,    by    god    you    hope    its    in    you.           

[pro-birth]

Sophie asked if they could help her daughter, but the doctors said at this age there was nothing to be done. They said that if she did survive because of medical intervention she ran the risk of being disabled. And though Sophie argued that other babies born at 22 weeks had survived and thrived, the doctor told her not to believe what she read on the internet.

I talk a lot about medical malpractice involving pro-choice doctors mismanaging miscarriages because of their politics about pro-life laws. The other side of the fence? Also pro-choice doctors mismanaging preterm birth and lying to their patients over ableist attitudes.

Baby killing isn’t medicine. It never will be, and the longer you ignore injustice against unborn babies and their mothers, the longer it will take to make real changes for both.

[shit-posts-and-trauma-thoughts]

When I was in middle school I started getting random sharp pains in my right side, it wasn’t so bad at first, the pain was sharp but it didn’t hurt too badly and it only lasted for a couple seconds at first, I told my parents but since it wasn’t on my left side they said they was no reason for us to take me to the doctor. The pains didn’t go away though, the pains got sharper and started lasting longer, in the next few months they started lasting multiple minutes at a time of pain that started in my sides and left me unable to move in certain cases.

I tried to tell my parents, I was terrified that something was wrong, I didn’t know what was happening and it was terrifying, I wondered more than once if whatever it was got bad enough if it could be fatal, I started wondering how many people would comfort my parents and tell them there’s no way they could have known cause after all no one would know that I’d begged to get it looked at.

The pains only got worse for a while after that, until one day in Ag when I went to raise my hand sharp pains when through my body so strong that I couldn’t move, it hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt before, it hurt worse than getting a concussion and worse than being ran over, I couldn’t even move my arm that froze midway up, the pain was going out in waves from my abdomen and I couldn’t move, I couldn’t cry, the teacher didn’t notice that my hand was halfway up and I couldn’t even move. It stayed like that for about fifteen minutes before the pain left suddenly like it was never there. I tried again to tell my parents but they still didn’t believe me.

It happened again in the same class a couple of weeks later, that time a few minutes longer, again it felt like someone had doused every nerve in my body with gasoline and set them on fire, but eventually it stopped as soon as it came, again I told my parents and again they thought I was making it up.

Around a month later the school had a pep rally, it was loud and the sets were uncomfortable but it wasn’t the worst, that’s when it happened again accept that time it didn’t stop after around fifteen minutes, it hurt as bad as the past two times combined, that’s when I can honestly say that for the first time in the life I felt sure I was going to die, I accepted it relatively quickly, I wondered how people would react, I wondered if my parents would wish they’d believed me, I wondered what it actually was that was causing me so much pain, I can honestly say that I didn’t expect to still be conscious at the end of the pep rally. I stayed like that for about little over an hour, the pep rally was about to be over when the pain started to fade, slowly unlike the other times and it hurt to walk when the pep rally ended but eventually the pain went away again, I went to the bathroom and cried once I could walk well enough again, I never wanted to feel like that again.

After that the pains started to happen less and not as strongly, they still happened for a few more months but never as bad as before, my parents never did take me to the doctor for it though and for years I was terrified of it coming back, I had to pull over when I was driving on more than one occasion because I felt a sharp pain that caused me to panic and start crying hard enough that It inhibited my driving ability.

It wasn’t until around a year ago while I was out from college that a doctor finally told me that it sounded like I’d most likely had ovarian cysts that had eventually ruptured, but he couldn’t be sure since it happened years ago.

For years I’ve been afraid of it coming back, my mom said that I needed to get over it because it happened years ago (8 years ago now) but it still scares me. Then two months ago it happened, I started getting sharp pains in my chest, at first they were small but they’ve started to last longer, the last time lasting several minutes with my chest staying sore for the rest of the day. In the beginning I was too afraid of my parents getting mad at me if it turned out to be nothing, but it’s starting to really scare me.

That’s why I finally did it, I booked a doctor’s appointment for myself tomorrow. I’m terrified about how it’s gonna go but I finally did it, I’m so scared that it’s gonna be just like last time and my brain is convinced that it’s come back to finish what it started and kill me, I’m terrified of what I’m going to find out at the doctor tomorrow but I’m finally going, my parents tried to convince me not to go but I want to know this time, maybe this time someone will believe me.

[nothing0fnothing]

I got super sick once bc my mom decided I could just deal with it when I told her I was in pain. My ear drum burst due to infection and the infection became generalised. My mom didn't even let me stay home from school one of those days. I was taken to hospital at 7pm, brought home at gone 1am and was woken up at 7am like nothing had happened.

I was eight.

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

I fucking hate celebrations so much all it is, is a reminder of how unwanted I am. I mean fuck my own mother traded me in like a piece of junk as soon as I was born. There was no first milestones or mediocre talks about what your child’s been up to or how amazing it is that they slept through the night. In fact I cried every single damn night, at 5 I was crying myself to sleep while I waited for anyone to hear me.

Spoiler, I’m still waiting.

With my birthday coming up it’s especially hard, I literally have no friends and there’s the expectation of partying and having fun when in reality all I do is sit in my room day by day, alone and rotting away. I have no-one and even if I did have someone I’m not sure I’d even be able to really connect with them. Hell I can’t even tell my mum I love her or show her an inkling of affection because the fear of being rejected and losing that person is too much to even comprehend.

I mean how sad is it that at 5 I’d figured out that it’s easier to show you don’t care, so there’s no expectation and pressure, then to care. I learnt to live silently and thrive in my own pain and suffering because truly nobody cares, nobody fucking listens and I’m just so sick of everything.

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

[I honestly need to write out H.U.N.K's family hc's because mine has a lot of struggle that stems back to just having a poor childhood. Esp his feelings around being expendable or not being "viable" as a person.]

[dangeroushologramcolor]

Being DJ Subatomic Supernova's daughter :

Image by TaranzasWig

(Reader is 10 years old)

Being the brightest star of his eyes.

Having a stellar related name, like Polaris, Cassiopeia, Andromeda or Stella.

He sees everyone as simpletons but him and you.

He had you by "accident": he was just freshly graduated doctor in astronomy and worked as a researcher and teacher at the university. He had the habit of drinking coffee in a little café near the university and grown close to one of the waitress. One thing leading to another, she became pregnant and Nova decided to marry her and have you.

He was very happy when you came into this world. You were perfect, his little girl, his shinning star. What worried him was that you mother didn't seemed to share his happiness, but he thought that she was just tired, and anxious about being a mother.

The following year shows him that it was more than that.

You mother had to quit her job to take care of you, but she just gave you the minimum of attention. She took care of you without love or care. She would let you cry when you cry for love and attention, only focusing on her daily life.

Nova and your mother often fight about that. He is tired of her complains about you being a noisy and insufferable child, while with your father, who took care of you and gave you all his love, you were an angel.

Nova was scared and worried that one day, after returning from work, he'll found you sick, hurt or worse, because of your mother's negligence.

One day, he had enough and asked for a divorce.

He wanted to have the full custody and your mother happily gave him without a second thought and leave your life and your father's forever.

Nova was relived that you were now in safe hands, but sad that you mother didn't loved you and that you'll grow up without one.

The seven years that followed those events were happy and peaceful for the two of you.

Since he didn't trust anyone to babysit you, he took you to his job.

You were a quiet and nice child, so his superiors were ok with your presence here. They even saw that Nova was more focused than before.

Your bedtimes stories were books about the solar system and space explained to children, or your father's explanations on astronomy.

When you were 5 years old, you stared to "help" him prepare his classes.

Aka making little drawing to schematize his class.

(He implanted some of them as little funny doddles in his power point, he was just so proud of you)

You attended to all his classes, listening to him explaining quantum science and black holes.

You were homeschooled by your father, so you are quite in advance compared to other 8 years old, plus your father's classes. His students were quite ashamed that a 8 years old better understand quantum physic than them.

The fact that they recognized your handwriting on some of their corrected copy make it worse.

After work, he will buy Mister Dodo popsicle for both him and you, while you walk the way home, watching the starry sky.

You were exited when your father said that you two will move out to Vinyl City and that he'll become a DJ.

At Vinyl City, you go to school instead of being homeschooled.

When your dad signed a contract with NSR, your living conditions skyrocketed.

He likes to spoil you with the newest technology, you always have the latest high-tech thing in your home.

Every time you get scared or are sad, he hug you. You always feel safe in his big arms.

When he goes to NSR meetings, you come with him (if you don't have school of course).

Tatiana likes you, you're smart, polite, disciplined, and your joyful personality isn't a problem to handle.

While your dad is at the meeting, you play with the other artists' children.

You all form a gang of friends, sticking for each other.

After the meeting, you both get Mister Dodo popsicle and goes to the best place in Vinyl City to watch the stars.

You often get tired and fall asleep after a long session of star gazing with comments about space.

Seeing you sleeping peacefully made him warm inside.

He's happy that he was able to offert you this life.

[freshtimetravelvoid]

I just am so angry about my mother yelling at me an harassing me about my speech disorder. She would yell in my face when I just couldn't seem to catch my voice. She would get in my face calling me all sorts of names an often ignoring me when I tried to communicate non-verbally. I often isolated myself bc of her an my brothers hating me for being this way. I felt so bad every time I would try to talk when I couldn't get it out an only noises came out. This made her worse. She made me feel bad for years about how I couldn't get my voice.

It makes me so angry that she would hide something like that about me. She was embarrassed of me bc she hates any flaws that I might have that aren't pretty or some type of one off accessory. Every time I brought up my pain problems an she'd go quiet only to say nothing an change the subject. Or how she'd tell me to just do yoga or drink some teas. The fucking teas!!!!I hate those fucking teas!!

I follow every fucking fad that magically helps with full body pain an follow every fucking yoga stretching exercises.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

i was so insane (and right) about all the hammer frankenstein transgender pregnancies and miscarriages stuff huh.

[yaenas]

— BASICS

Name: Yaena (Madeleine) Boyle Age / D.O.B.: 34 / October 30 (1988) Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: female, she/her, straight. Hometown (place of birth): Wisconsin Affiliation: Law enforcement — not corrupt. Job position: Criminal Profiler Education: Obtained a bachelor’s degree in psychology & an MS in Crime Scene Investigation at the University of Virginia / then attended The FBI Academy Relationship status: Single Children: 0 Positive traits: Passionate, Individualistic, Dependable, Persistent, Idealistic, Daring. Negative traits: Manipulative, Temperamental, Closed-off, Stubborn, Extravagant, Obsessive, Unpredictable

 a study in  :    living  in  your  parents'  shadows,  obsession,   finding   your   own   place  in  the   world.

A character that draws inspiration from Yennefer of Vengerberg (a modern version of her) Camille Preaker from the novel Sharp Objects & Leanne Greyson from The Servant.

— BIOGRAPHY

Yaenna (also called Yen or Maddie from her middle name) is quarter French (mom) and American (dad & mom side). She was born in Wisconsin to parents who belonged to an obscure religious cult known as the Church of the Reclaimed that traveled and moved all over the country since the moment she was brought into this world. She was forced to move from state to state for years and years on end, was home-schooled by a pair of strict yet uncaring parents whose entire relationship with their daughter revolved around making sure she would strictly and wholly embrace and follow their religious beliefs; she lived on a boat for a long while, sheltered and away from the real world– stability was neither provided nor ever anything she understood as a child.

Her mother was particularly strict and cold: completely devoted to her faith and The Way (the set of rules forced upon them by their leader) she was hard on Yaena since she was little, punishing her cruelly and always denying her the simple joys of life - she also blamed Yaena's sinful behaviors (such as wanting to play with dolls and/or with other kids and eat sweets) and plagued her with guilt over how her negligence & wickedness resulted in the death of her younger sister who passed away when Yen was 11. Her father was an apathetic, cynical man who despite his own fate in the way of the Reclaimed, ignored her Mother at such extents that her rage and anger became a weapon she used against her children.

Eventually, when she was 15, her parents were unexpectedly killed in a fire when the cult's boat was deliberately set on fire by a former member trying to escape its clutches; Yaena and her sister survived and were soon sent to live with her grandmother (mom's side.)

There, she was able to settle down for the first time in her life; unlike her parents who never really cared about either of their children (she has a younger sister), her grandmother, despite her coldness and detachment, was protective; maybe to a fault. A lavishly rich, refined, elegant and well traveled woman ( a southern belle who thought herself above all others) who would soon prove to harbor her own dark secrets. Obsessed with not letting anything happen to her granddaughters, she was a little too protective, too controlling, too judgmental, and even though she would provide Yen and her sister with the chance to settle down and make something of themselves, her borderline narcissistic behavior would soon, too, take its harsh toll on both of them.

Yen, despite her rough beginnings, despite struggling with herself for months and months, a rebel, fighting against everything she had ever known and becoming erratic, wild, unhinged and feral in everything that she would do (often self harming to deal with the pain & over-indulging herself in everything that she had been denied so far, then often punishing herself for it until her grandmother sought help for her in the form of a therapist who would inspire her to follow her later studies). Furthermore, despite failing her first attempt to enroll in college, she went on (the following year) to graduate high school with remarkably high grades and move on to attend college to become a psychologist.

( And yet during those years from the time her parents died, to her moving away to study and find herself, make something out of what she had been given and give her life a meaning, former members of the Reclaimed were ever hot on her trail: watching; trying to lure her back in, terrorizing her, particularly during her teenage years - this played a huge reason why she chose to pursue a path in Law Enforcement; not wanting to ever be scared of anything again; an idealist, reformed, trying to save people in any capacity that she could. )

at the age of 22 she moved to Virginia to complete her studies. Throwing herself into her work, Yen worked hard for years and years on end, earning her MS in Criminal Pathology and moving on to study at the FBI Academy.

She has been completely devoted to her work for the entirety of her life

— GENERAL (a list of facts / a work in progress as more will be added in the future)

She has moved around and lived with uncles and friends of her parents or members of their religious, nomadic cult in a short amount of time and that’s where she gets the crippling fear of being unlovable and the overwhelming desire to start a stable family of her own. Her coldness and the fact that she has never truly, wholly addressed her own issues, keeps her away from finding just that: emotional stability and healthy patterns in relationships.

Yaena loves passionately and selfishly; she is impulsive and stubborn; selfish and cold hearted and decisive; she is extremely smart and creative and hardworking but she can also be extremely distant, closed off and difficult to understand. 

She is adventurous and loves to travel and learn new things; she is not afraid to take risks and she is not afraid to do everything on her own. 

Yen has been living and working in New York for the best part of the last five years.

She is particularly extravagant and prone to allow herself to indulge in guilty pleasures; detached and rather mysterious, she embodies her coldness and elegance in a perfect way and portrays herself as completely poised and rather refined, never allowing her emotions to take over, masking her feelings from everyone around her; she does not trust easy, to say the least.

[welcometomybraincomics]

An all human, modern version of Starlight Guilt would be so fucking creepy. Like, unbelievable levels of fucked up.

Iiiiiick, taking the humanity out of certain characters reeeeeeeeeally lowers the creep factor

Like just-

Spoilers + fucked up shit under cut

All human cast means the Oblivion are like.... a fucking gang or smth

And- 🤢 The scouts are the Oblivion equivalent of children...... 😨

Which would make- 🤢 Fuck, taking Starlight Guilt beat for beat and translating it directly to humans is fucking horrifying- Fucking Stardust's mother fucking KIDNAPS Oblivion CHILDREN for her own CHILDREN to fight (TO THE DEATH SOMETIMES) and fucking, keeps the Oblivion children in her fucking basement until they die, what the fuck!

and like- fucking- 🤢 The Oblivion aren't treating their children much better!? Fucking- kids are sent out, ON THEIR OWN, to gather information and come back to relay it to the Hive (Jesuz fuck, the Oblivion are a fucking cult, not just a gang 😨) and they produce enough kids that just- just loosing them ISN'T A FUCKING PROBLEM????

Gosh and I haven't even gotten to like, one of the fucking creepiest parts!

Ficking! In SG (Starlight Guilt) original fucking SD lets one of the more powerful Oblivion in bc it's smart enough to trick him into thinking it's his friend! Which means in all human world 🤢 Fucking- ADULT HUMAN MAN being a FUCKING STALKER CREEP and fucking- TALKS TO THIS ITTY-BITTY INNOCENT CHILD THROUGH THE FUCKING DOOR or on the phone FOR FUCKING DAYS when he's sure NO ONE ELSE IS AROUND

OH MY GOD, THIS IS SO UNBELIVABLY CREEPY!

AND HE FUCKING 🤮HE MAKES THIS POOR, ISOLATED KID BELIEVE HE HAS FUCKING FRIENDS, AND HE - oh my god, this is so fucking creepy- THE OBLIVION CONVINCE THIS POOR KID TO LET THEM IN THE FUCKING HOUSE (oh god, SD's mother isolates her children inside the house 🤢Oh my fucking god, she leaves these poor kids (who she's only taught how to fight) alone, unsupervised, for HOURS 😨 OH MY GOD, and some of them are sick, like, unbelievably sick, like-🤢OH MY FUCKING GOD, WHERE IS SHE GETTING THESE CHIDLREN!?!?!?!?!? In canon she makes them out of starlight, but she doesn't fucking have a partner to sex up, how did she fucking get these kids in the Human AU, what the actual fuck?? Is she- is she??? Is she fucking- 🤢Oh my god, in canon she make these children with the express purpose of being weapons 🤢Is she fucking is she going around and making kids with the most powerful people she can find???? and fucking 🤢🤢🤢 doing experiments on them to make them stronger as babies, fucking them up in the process???? Is she fucking kidnapping them???? She makes literally dozens of children in cannon 😨) AND FUCKING 😨😨😨 HE FUCKING INVITES HIS FRIENDS IN AND THEY SLAUGHTER SD'S ENTIRE FAMILY IN FRONT OF HIM!?!?!?!? AND FUCKING- THEY LEAVE HIM ALIVE AS SOME SORT OF FUCKED UP THANKS??????

AND HE JUST 😨😨😨HE JUST SITS THERE IN HORROR WATCHING HIS FAMILY'S FUCKING BODIES COOL???? UNTIL THE POLICE FIND HIM BC THE NEIBHGORS REPORTED SCREAMING AND THE FRONT DOOR'S OPEN????

(He doesn't have a magical world to escape into here, on my god, this is so fucked up; SD goes from so excited to share/ introduce his friends and then- 🤢 it goes downhill so fast 😨)

And- and- fuck! The only way to have normal people in similar positions to the gods in canon SG is if- oh my god, this is so fucked- The only way is if fucking, their mom is 🤢 On top of teaching them how to fight, she's teaching them how to fucking manipulate people into doing their will??? Their mother is like "It's time for DIY Cult, kiddos!" ✨(0ڡ <) 🤢 She has the kids fucking pick people who are at rock bottom, the lowest part of their life, and lift them up, help them grow until they worship the kids like gods. And like, the eldest is 18 at least 😨 early 20s at most. And that would be their only thing they do outside of the house 😨

And the- 🤢 and the fucking fanatic followers (who would be gods in canon) fucking 🤢 when they hear about what happened, they- THEY BLAME THE FUCKING KID!? He's like- He's like 6!😨 They're like "If you hadn't opened the door, they would still be here" and fucking- the only ones who don't blame him are the ones who follow the sickliest of the siblings, who have been preparing for their "god"s death and who their "god" has been preparing to take care of their littlest brother who's not old enough to start gathering followers (Stardust), but they're not exactly berrating the other followers either????

And??? And???? This goes on for Years?????

SD tries to make it up to his siblings' followers, but they still hate him - They're all older than him- and he decides they're right to hate him and he tries to fucking commit suicide???? But it doesn't work, so he's found and gets put in a foster home or smth and things start to get better, but then the Oblivion rear their ugly heads and clock the fanatical followers as connected to SD's family so they come in trying to hunt them down, so the followers come running back to SD who, despite their hatred of him, they still see as some sort of god??? and it hasn't actually been that long since SD tried to change his ways, so it's easy to fall back into old patterns and he just- he tries so hard to fix things, but there's nothing to fix, he's just a kid and he can't protect them, but he does know the Oblivion are after his family, so instead of letting the followers get fucking iced, he willingly offers himself up to the Oblivion and fucking- he lets them EXECUTE HIM????? And the fully grown adults who sought a child for help FUCKING CELEBRATE???? AND ALL THIS SHIT HAPPENS RIGHT AS STARDUST HITS FUCKING PUBERTY??????

Like- this is some fucking gang-cult mix and they're having a gang-cult war

Unbelivably fucked. There is so much wrong with this. So much.

Oh my god, I thought the "Oblivion Take SD in Instead of Trying to Save Him for Last (to eat) AU" (Aka. the Infiltrator AU) was fucked up. This is so much worse! (fuck fuck fuck, but a human verion of that AU would be even more fucked than this 🤢)

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

Yandere! Batfam x Reader

Batfam x reader or Batfam/reader

Yandere Batfam x reader or Yandere Batfam/reader

Word count: 8639 words

TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne, mentions drugs, yandere, neglect, angst and kidnapping.

You were Bruce’s youngest child, a year younger than Damian and several years younger than the rest. You were simply the result of a hookup on one of Bruce’s many business trips, it might’ve been to Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or even just somewhere else in America. The point is, you didn’t grow up in Gotham until the age of thirteen when your mother died in a violent car crash, one in which you had also been involved. 

You had sat for hours in the backseat, slowly seeing your mother’s life drain from her eyes as the fire brigade did their best to cut their way into the car. It had all been for nought though, with her dying before the paramedics even arrived. You were physically fine except for some deep cuts and bruises, but your mother’s abdomen had been pierced as a drunk driver of a flatbed lorry carrying steel poles had backed violently into your car, sending the metal sticks flying straight towards your vehicle. One of the poles had gone through the window and hit your mother. It was a gruesome sight, so vile that you threw up several times as you were hauled out of the wreck.

Legally, you were supposed to go to your father, even if your mother’s parents, possible siblings or someone else were willing to take you, the law demanded that it’d be your father who took you. Bruce had signed your birth certificate, he wasn’t unaware of your existence, and he had since your birth sent monthly child support to your mother, but that was all you really were to him up until that point; A negligible extra expense. 

It wasn’t that Bruce disliked you when you came to the manor. You were simply a scared kid who had just lost their mother and was deeply grieving. He had dealt with plenty of those. He had just been busy… He obviously had his obligations as Bruce Wayne: CEO duties, public image and bundles of paperwork, but it was more so his obligations as Batman and to his other children, which pulled him away from you when you first came into his home. Damian, especially, took up most of his time. Not only did the two of them constantly train for protecting the city, thus developing a closer bond than you’d ever have with either of them, but Bruce was also very aware of how Damian’s childhood at the league weighed down on him mentally, so, he kept him close, let him vent his frustrations and slowly but surely get over his trauma. 

 From the very beginning, you became the forgotten child:

Dick was always so focused on Damian, singing his praises and always taking care of him. He usually forgot to even greet you whenever he visited the manor for a week or two, often going “Oh! I haven’t seen you all this time! Well, bye to you too Y/n”, whenever he left. Whenever the oldest brother was visiting, you’d stand in the doorway to the living room, observing with stinging eyes as he embraced Damian like the boy mattered more than the entire world. You had forgotten how it felt to actually matter that much to someone. You wondered if you ever had. Why you tortured yourself with watching the two, you didn’t know, perhaps because you longed to be in Damian’s position? You weren’t even sure yourself. The reason probably didn’t matter, as your forced your eyes to stay on the two, only leaving when you could feel silent tears run down your cheeks. 

Jason was the friendliest, not particularly caring for Damian and Bruce either, often calling the green-eyed boy “Demonspawn”, which you’d laugh loudly at, only to be sent to your room by Bruce for upsetting Damian. Jason understood though, usually going to your room to hang out with you and listen to your stories, unlike everyone else. He came to adore you. Damian might’ve been Dick’s favourite sibling, but you were Jason’s. Since Damian was called “Babybird”, Jason called you “Tiny tweet”, even though you didn’t hold the title of Robin. You loved the times when Jason was there, he made you finally feel understood and heard. Unfortunately, Jason was at the manor even less than Dick, (who spent 90% of his time in Blüdhaven), since he couldn’t stand the sight of Bruce for longer than an hour every other month. So, the brief moments of reprieve the second oldest offered were few and far between, still leaving you isolated most of the time.

Tim barely spared you a glance, too busy with his own school, vigilantism and friends. He appreciated that you weren’t annoying like Damian, who’d constantly attack him, thus automatically bringing you above the little devil on Tim’s tier list of family members… however, Damian was at the very bottom, which didn’t make it a great achievement. If you ever tried to converse with Tim, he’d dismiss you with a wave of his long bony hand, telling you to find someone else to chit-chat with. You stopped your attempts at befriending the middle child after a handful of unsuccessful tries, barely seeing him after that. As a matter of fact, whenever you tried to visualise a picture of Tim, it was the image of his slim dismissive hand which appeared. You had forgotten if his hair was black or dark brown, if his eyes were light blue or grey or if his nose had a bump or not. He bordered on becoming a personal myth to you; You knew he existed in a far-off world, but he wasn’t within your orbit.

Damian was at first fearful that you’d take his place, bullying you, physically harassing you and bringing up your mother until you were left wailing on the floor. When you told Bruce though he’d always tell you to, “Be the bigger person, Damian has been through a lot”. You wished you could have fought against your youngest brother, but not only was he older and stronger than you, but he was also a trained assassin and vigilante. You stood no chance. When Damian realised that you were no threat to his position, he left you alone, avoiding talking to you and interacting with you on the basis that you simply didn’t matter to him. He had actually once accidentally told a teacher that he only had three siblings, not realising that he had forgotten about you until he was on his way home, replaying the conversation in his head. Damian might’ve once tried to become closer to you after Alfred had given him a long spiel about how “family is important”, but quickly realised that you trusted him less than the thieves in Crime Alley, and so he abandoned the idea.

Bruce didn’t mean to ignore you, it was purely accidental, but he had on multiple occasions forgotten your birthday and even once failed to remember buying you any Christmas presents, leaving you as the only Wayne child with no gifts that year, to which you had simply muttered something along the lines of, “Of course”, not in a vengeful or angry way, instead in a resigned and understanding tone, before going back to your room that night and not leaving until a day or two later. Alfred had scolded him for that occurrence, there wasn’t really anything he could’ve said in his defence and even Dick had looked at him with disgust as they all took in the image of you standing there, alone, surrounded by gifts that weren’t for you. It had been a striking visual, yet not enough to make Bruce change his ways. It wasn’t that he held any animosity towards you, you were simply just air to him, he had no idea where you were at any given time or who you were, sometimes he even forgot your face.

Alfred was a kind man, an understanding man. However, just like Bruce, he also had others to worry about, and the more isolated you became in your behaviour, the less able he was to spend time with you. Not only that, but he also refused to hear you talk badly of any of your brothers, and even Bruce was off the table if you felt like complaining. Alfred was a sweet and patient man, but to you it felt as if he had lost the plot, as if he didn’t understand how badly you were treated, because his love for the others blinded him, making him an unfortunate enabler of your torment. Alfred was only really good for giving you a biscuit/cookie when you sat in the kitchen, apathetically staring into a wall, for venting your frustrations, however? He was useless.

Your father neglected to handle your trauma. However, somehow, in his messed up brain, he reasoned that any trauma which was vigilante-related could somehow be considered worse as it was on a much larger scale than a single individual losing their mother. This made you grow resentful of both Damian and your father, the careful way Bruce would adapt everything to fit Damian’s wants and needs, disregarding yours, slowly lit a fire within you, a fire which burned with hatred towards them both.

I could see you wanting to join the vigilante life when you’re perhaps fifteen. You had watched the others train for years and would often sneak into the bat cave after dark to train yourself. You were good, really good, so you decided that you might as well start doing actual vigilante work. You did realise that you hadn’t quite reached a fighting level where that’d be a good idea, so you decided to find a more seasoned mentor. A slight detail, which would become important. Your father didn’t have the time to teach you. So who did you call up? That’s right! Jason.

 Jason was reluctant to take you under his wing, at first. He even came to the manor to convince you that vigilantism wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. However, after pouring your bleeding heart out to the only brother who cared, he accepted, still apprehensive though.

Jason started his training from the top, getting into the basics swiftly. You got it down faster than he had at first thought, being an astoundingly quick-learner, something which the red-masked vigilante attributed to having Wayne blood in your veins. After locking down all the groundwork within a year or so, it was time to start your specialisation; Choice of weapons, fighting style and general tactics were all next. While training with Jason, you slowly moved into the spare room in his apartment. It wasn’t like you had a bunch of things to move, but what little you had, Jason helped transport from the manor to his primary safehouse.

When Jason considered you ready, you started working as his shadow sidekick. Never known by the vigilante community at large, but definitely a secret menace to Gotham’s criminals. Jason did a good job of keeping your vigilantism a secret After your first three years of training, you completely stopped visiting the manor, even on holidays. You were technically a legal adult now and felt no obligation to stick around a house whose inhabitants had made it clear that you were unwelcome.

No one except Alfred knew that you had completely left for the first long while, with him being the only one you had bid farewell to. The old butler refused to tell Bruce until the man noticed himself. That day would come approximately four months after you stopped coming to the manor, on Christmas eve:

Damian had been the one to notice your absence secondly, after Alfred. He commented on it during the Christmas family dinner, one which Bruce only held for his sons' sakes, and where the only two not attending were Jason and you. Even Dick was there, on a visit from Blüdhaven, spry and jolly around his favourite younger sibling. Damian. 

“Where’s L/N?” The green-eyed man had questioned loudly. Silence followed. Bruce took a look around, you weren’t there. They all knew that Jason wouldn’t be attending, he had declined Bruce’s requests every year since his resurrection, instead opting to go to Roy’s place. A lump formed in Bruce’s throat, yet he didn’t know why. “Damian, can you go get them down? They probably didn’t hear that dinner was served”, Dick requested kindly with a smile on his lips. The man in question would’ve usually complained, but since it was his eldest brother who asked, he got up wordlessly. Conversation at the table resumed, with Alfred biting his lips in contemplation. ‘Should he have informed Bruce of your absence, even though he knew you were at Jason’s?’ ‘Perhaps’, he concluded, deciding to keep silent about the whole matter, it was unfair to you. You had moved on, and even if he missed you terribly, it was not his place to demand your return. A piercing “What!” Stopped all the chatter at the table. Damian came barrelling back into the dining room, grabbing the side of the door with a tight knuckle to stabilise himself. “Their room is completely empty! All their stuff is gone! The only things left are the bed and closet!” 

Bruce had stood up immediately, his chair colliding with the ground behind him as he brushed by Damian, entering your room, his son had been right. Your room was empty. None of the posters you had brought with you from your life with your mother, no papers lying scattered around and no other signs of use. As Bruce looked closer at the remaining furniture, he found that a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The room was as empty as when you arrived as a child and something in Bruce’s stomach dropped. “Y/n!” He called out. No reply. Soon, the entire manor was looking for you, even Alfred pretended to do so as well, his guilt of knowing eating him up from the inside. None of them found you, you had vanished without a trace.

 Somehow, your perceived disappearance became the thing to snap your family’s collective consciousness. All hyped up by each other’s worry and driven into a frenzy. Bruce believed that you had gotten kidnapped or ran away, and it scared him. The thought of his negligence having brought you to extremes was like a spear through his heart, switching something on in his brain. He ordered his available sons to scour the entire city of Gotham to find you, completely forgetting about Christmas and leaving only Alfred behind to stay at the manor, in case you returned on your own. Bruce also ensured that most rooms in the manor were lit, like a lighthouse showing you home. Meanwhile, you and Jason were celebrating the holidays at Roy’s place in Star City, oblivious to what was taking place in all the major cities. You were playing with Lian as the two men chatted about old times and the poor quality of the beer they were drinking; Roy had let you two stay for a few days, so Jason could properly enjoy the festivities without thinking of his alcohol percentage as he was the designated driver. None of you had any idea of the ruckus going on only a few cities away.

It was after this Christmas that the family changed irreversibly. Suddenly, your safety became their top priority. Spear-headed by Bruce, who had a borderline existential crisis as he believed there was an equal chance of you being dead in a ditch somewhere and you being tortured by some rogue. Bruce was overtaken by guilt and challenged this feeling into pure rage as he beat up henchmen and rogues within an inch of their lives, believing them to have somehow connected you to Batman. They hadn’t and were entirely unaware of why the bat was so obsessed with this one person. Were you perhaps vital in an ongoing detective case? Or did Bruce Wayne tip him off to be extra vigilant when finding his youngest? They had no clue.

Well, obviously, Christmas was ruined. When all of the batboys and their father returned home empty-handed, they were in no mood for celebrations. Tim simply sat in a chair, lamenting, as he stared into a wall with something akin to resignation, running calculations in his head of where you could have possibly gone, before heading for the cave to view the security footage as far back as he had stored. Bruce and Damian refused to simply stop looking for the night, not staying long at the manor before they started searching other cities, making some of their vigilante friends aware of the situation. After staying in the nearest bathroom, and regaining control of his emotions, Dick joined his youngest brother and father in their quest for searching other cities. Bruce went to Metropolis, Damian to Central City and Dick to Blüdhaven. They had planned that they would each scour a city tonight and one the night after, it would be impossible to find you during the day, as there were way too many people wandering the streets. Alfred still remained silent, he didn’t think it was fair of them to bring you back, not with the way they had treated you and not when you had clearly left of your own volition.

Bruce had informed his closest friend, Clark Kent, of your disappearance, with the alien immediately insisting on aiding in the search. “It’ll be quicker if we both look at the same time!” Clark had yelled determined through the phone, his southern drawl helping to calm Bruce’s nerves, if only slightly. That was how not only Batman but also Superman started patrolling the streets of Metropolis, in search of a single person, you. Jon too wanted to aid in the search and offered Damian to take over looking in Central city, so he could look somewhere else instead, thus covering more ground, Damian agreed and went to Coast city. 

As the news spread to the citizens of these cities that the Supers and the Bats had teamed up to look for one of Bruce Wayne’s missing kids, it became the talk of everyone’s dinner tables. News channels ran multiple stories about it, despite it being Christmas, being hyped up in no small part thanks to Lois Lane, whose heart went out to the Waynes for losing someone so close to them. The story had slowly morphed from you having run away voluntarily, to you having been kidnapped as a ransom. Everyone who heard of your story believed it to be a tragedy committed by someone who couldn’t even hold up the sanctity of the holiday spirits.

Back at home, Tim reviewed all of the security footage and went as far back as four months, that was when he saw you exit the manor with multiple boxes in your arms, loading them into a red lorry. He kept looking at you walking back and forth for a while until a well-known presence stepped out of the vehicle. Jason. Tim stood still, you hadn’t just moved out of the manor, you had moved in with Jason. You had moved in with the second oldest brother, and neither of you had bothered to inform anyone! Tim seethed, he wasn’t mad at you, no, he could never be. But Jason, the mere thought of him now made Tim’s blood boil. He believed that his brother had borderline kidnapped you away from them. His ire intensified when he saw Jason enter the manor and come out with more of your stuff packed into boxes. That was enough evidence for Tim to conclude that Jason must’ve forced you to move out, that it really hadn’t been your choice at all… Skillfully ignoring how none of the people in the manor had ever given you a reason to stay, let alone noticed that you had been gone for over four months. 

However, knowing that you were with Jason made him able to conclude that you were likely in one of his safehouses or spending your Christmas with his best friend Roy, those two were inseparable, after all. He decided that he would look through Jason’s safe houses, then he called up Damian, “Go to Roy Harper’s place and look for Y/n. They’re with Jason.” Tim’s voice was dark, foreboding and it even made Damian’s hairs stand straight. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Tim explained the situation to both Dick and Bruce afterwards, as he glided through the air from safe house to safe house. Letting the two know that he had sent Damian after you and that they could come home now. Even if Tim currently held the desire to puncture Jason’s lungs for taking you away from them… away from him, he knew his older brother would never let anything happen to you. You were weak in his mind, and in the rest of the family’s mind too. Perhaps they would’ve worried less if they knew of your vigilante training… or maybe not. Vigilantism is dangerous, after all.

When Roy had turned on the TV briefly, you had all been bombarded with news of your disappearance. Your apathetic face from your last high school photo was plastered on every news network, big and small. News of an all-out search party with multiple vigilantes involved was outlined in great detail. Both Jason and you looked at each other with a mix of concern and confusion. It had been four months since you had last been at the manor, Alfred knew of your departure, what were they doing?! Lian had thankfully been put to bed, none of you wanted her to view the panic that crossed all three of your faces. “What the heck are they up to?” Roy questioned no one in particular. “It’s probably a façade, someone might have noticed that ‘Bruce Wayne’ was down one child and now he needs to find me to assure them that I’m not dead. It wouldn’t be a good look to have multiple children die in your custody. No offence Jay”, you postulated, it was a far reach but still the best explanation you could come up with. Jason had agreed with your assessment, giving you a light smack to the back of your head for mentioning his death. He wasn’t mad, but he always joked that it was a sensitive subject.

The three of you tried to come up with solutions to the problem at hand when you were interrupted by an impatient knock on the door. “I’ll get it”, Roy muttered. Making his way out of the living room, where you had previously stood, and towards the entrance. The moment he turned the lock, the door was swung open by whoever was on the other side, the wooden frame just barely missing Roy’s face. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the living room. Roy barely had the time to realise who it was before they were gone, striding towards where you were. 

“Damian?!” You exclaimed, confused. The green-eyed man stood in front of both Jason and you, wearing his full Robin costume. You wondered how he had gotten here so quickly, the news mentioned how he’d been to both Central City and Coast City, both were relatively far away from your current location. “I’ve come to take you home, Y/n. We have been worried for your safety and I see that Todd took full advantage of your little outburst.” Damian’s voice was spiteful, Tim had managed to fuel his ever-latent anger and direct it towards Jason. You tried to rebuke your youngest brother, but Jason stepped in front of you, ready to defend you against the green-eyed menace, “As if! They’re not going back with you, just to end up being ignored by everyone again! Just because Bruce needs his public image to be clean, doesn’t make it their problem! So run along, Demonspawn!”  Damian did not take well to refusal, let alone Jason’s uncalled-for name-calling. 

Damian marched past the taller man and straight towards you. As he tried to grab your forearm, he was thwarted as you defended yourself, blocking his arm and throwing him to the ground. Damian was shocked and Jason was grinning like a proud father. Roy came strolling in at the same time, having checked on Lian’s safety, no problems there. “What did you teach them?!” Damian screamed at Jason, blaming him for your newfound strength. “Everything, they’re a vigilante. I’m not gonna send them out on the streets without knowing how to defend themselves.” The second oldest brother swung an arm around your shoulders as you stood still, giving Damian a look that promised nothing good. 

Well, this was unacceptable to Damian, who had silently called for reinforcement, filming your entire interaction so far on a gadget connected to his chest plate. When Bruce heard Jason’s words, he felt yet another stone sink to the bottom of his abdomen, he had let you become a vigilante, his little Y/n… No, this would not do. All of them agreed on this. Once they had you again, they all decided that anything vigilante-related would be kept out of your reach. While both Dick and Bruce were flattered that you’d share a career path with them, they could not accept the danger it brought you in.

It didn’t take long for Damian’s request to be honoured, as Bruce and the boys took a zeta tube to Star City and immediately went to Roy’s. It took no more than twenty minutes, with Damian engaging in a violent screaming match with Jason, accusing him of kidnapping you, of forcing you to play his mock Robin just to spite your shared father and of many more heinous crimes, which the green-eyed man covered your ears for, despite your attempts to get him to stop touching you. When a barrage of impatient knocks sounded on Roy’s door for the second time, he didn’t open it. Instead, he opted for locking Lian’s bedroom door and grabbing his bow as well as a handful of arrows, which he had reverse-engineered from Oliver’s original ones, aiming one at the entrance. 

Of course, none of the dark-haired men on the other side waited for Roy to feel charitable enough to invite them into his home, as Dick harshly kicked the door in, wooden splinters spreading across the entrance hall’s floor. “What the hell are you doing in my home!” Roy screamed, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Lian. His bow was still pulled tight, an arrow aimed at the newcomers as a threat to not tread further into his flat. “Calm down, speedy. I will replace your door. I’m here to bring my youngest home”, Bruce muttered as he tried to enter the living room, only to be stopped by an arrow flying just past his nose. “Do not take another step. You are intruders”, Roy seethed, orange strands of hair swaying in the air as he made his way in front of the bat trio of Dick, Tim and Bruce.

Bruce was almost surprised by Roy's violent reaction. Almost. He was obviously quite aware of the redhead’s close bond with his second oldest, who had in turn evidently been closer to you than he had ever thought. You had moved in together, after all. Bruce did not blame Jason like Damian and Tim, instead, he simply saw it as an accentuation of his own failings as a father. Still, it was a very serious action to threaten the Batman, the very implications of which stunted both Bruce and Tim for just a moment. Dick wasn’t, however, immediately turning on his trusted secret weapon, skilful manipulation. 

With slow steps, Dick managed to get right in front of the archer, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. “Roy. Surely, as a father, you of all people must understand why Bruce wants his child back. Y/n and he needs to mend their relationship. For Y/n. Imagine how they’ll feel years in the future when they have no father to turn to? They have the chance to get a real security net, something which I know you always wanted at their age. Surely, you must realise that just you and Jason can’t be enough… Not to go into too much detail, but the two of you haven’t been known to be the most… how would you put it… reliable? Stable? …clean?”  Dick’s mention of Roy’s former substance problems broke his initial apprehension. Between Jason, you and him, it was a topic that was never mentioned, it brought back doubts and was probably his second biggest insecurity, his biggest one being… “Imagine if Y/n was Lian? You would want her to have a father, wouldn’t you? Of course, you do! That’s why you stayed. Y/n needs a father too, and not just that they need all of their brothers at their side, Jason can’t stand in for a father. Surely, you would know.” Dick continued. It was a dirty trick to mention Lian, but it worked as Roy lowered his bow, stepping aside for the Waynes to enter the room where Damian and Jason were currently in a screaming match.

Once Jason saw his other brothers and Bruce, he ripped you away from Damian and tried to push past them, holding your hand protectively and tight. It didn’t work, however, as Tim was quick to stun his older brother with a taser, right after Dick had tugged you securely into his latex-covered chest. You didn’t quite know what happened after that, Dick pried your lips and teeth apart, dropping a little round tablet on your tongue, before immediately shifting his hand to cover both your mouth and nose. Shifting the pill around in your mouth to not swallow it, while you tried to kick him away, did absolutely nothing. Dick was stronger and a greater fighter than you’d ever be, your attempts at resistance were little more to Dick than a cat scratching his arms. The blue-eyed man held you close with his free arm, gently cooing supportive reassurances as the pill melted in your cheeks, bitter and promising a nightmare when you woke up.

When your eyes opened again, you were laying in your old bed at Wayne manor. The window had been covered up with thick metal bars, spread no more apart than half of your head’s size. Much of your old stuff, which you had brought to Jason’s primary safe house, was back. They were nowhere near where you had put them when you lived here previously, a testament to how little whoever had reinstated your items actually knew about you. Sitting up, you found that your old cotton bedding had been changed for what you assumed to be silk, it was weirdly soft and you didn’t enjoy it in the slightest. Your duvet was a deep shade of green with golden accents, and you immediately knew who was responsible for the change. Damian. Perhaps he was even the one who had moved all your old stuff back. Their methodical placement, with very few items not lining the wall, certainly looked like how Damian had decorated his own room.

 A large red box, filled with all your old clothes, as well as a bunch of new items stood in the middle of your room. You ignored it as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up only to find that your vision was double-crossed and your breaths shallow, you were dizzy beyond measure and your head pounded like mad, not to mention the coating of glistening sweat, which made you feel gross just being in your own body. What in the world had Dick given you? 

Still, you attempted to move to the door, even if you realised you couldn’t stand up without fainting on the spot. Grasping your mattress tightly with both hands, you gently lowered yourself to the cold floor. Moving your legs under you, you managed to sit on your knees. Leaning forward, you took the fall with your palms, now standing on all fours. You hoped no one would ever see you in this state, it was humiliating not being able to move about as you normally did, but you had to get out or at least try. You had no idea what your father and brothers wanted with you, but you had a feeling it was nothing good.   

Sliding your shins forward and following the motion with your hands, you slowly made your way towards the door. Raising a hand to the knob, you were surprised when the door swung open by itself. In the door stood Tim, warm towels in his arms. “Ah! I saw on the camera feed that you were awake! I thought you might enjoy some pampering.” A beat of silence rang out as you met Tim’s eyes, pale blue like a summer sky. You almost impressed yourself as you jumped forward, drilling the top of your head into his knees, making the lanky man fall to the ground with a grunt, as you tried to crawl away as quickly as possible. Tim was quick to get back on his feet, running after you, but you had already reached the closest stairs leading down. It only took one look down the long wooden construction to realise what you had to do, even if it would hurt more than anything. Tim realised what you were trying as he saw your shifty eyes cast a sideways glance down the steps.

 “Y/n! Don’t you dare!” You didn’t let him finish as you closed your eyes and leaned to the side, starting to roll down the steps… or at least you would have, had it not been for the iron grip on your forearm. At first, you believed it to be Tim, but as you started to struggle, you realised that the hold was too tight and the hand too strong. Cracking open an eye, you could feel your heart sink into your stomach. Damian. Somehow, your youngest brother was the scariest one. The others were always ambivalent to your presence, but Damian had been openly hostile to you in your youth, oftentimes attacking you verbally or physically, and you didn’t doubt he could be violent towards you again. “What are you doing, Y/n?” His voice was no-nonsense, yet his eyes were soft. A strange dichotomy. “Getting away from you psychos”, you mumbled coldly, your throat was dry and the urge to cough arose as you spoke. The green-eyed man looked pensive, a tick in his jaw betrayed how he was trying to hold in his anger. He didn’t bother answering your insult, instead, he slung you onto his back and made his way back to your room, sneering at Tim when the two passed each other. Once back in your room, Damian held you down on the bed by your wrists, as he sat next to you. A general meeting was called, involving everyone in the family, except Jason, whom you had no clue where had gone.

Bruce had arrived almost immediately, with Dick prancing in not too long after. You weren’t sure what they wanted from you, assuming this was all to save Bruce’s public image, but even if that wasn’t the reason, you were sure that it was nothing good. They had all shown up on Christmas just to take you away from the only people you considered close friends and family. No one with good intentions would do something like that. As soon as the offending Waynes had all arrived, you spat out for them to announce the purpose of your kidnapping immediately. Both Bruce and Dick seemed disturbed by you titling their actions as a kidnapping. With the latter trying to defend it as being more of an obligatory change of scenery. It didn’t work, and you waited for someone to give you a proper answer with a deadpan. Damian had loosened his grip on you as the others arrived and all sat at the edge of the bed, surrounding you and making sure that you no longer had any possibility of escaping. It was claustrophobic and ominous.

Bruce was the one to explain that they had all led you back home to build the relationships, which you had all been deprived of in your younger years, expressing his regret and familial love for you, something which was echoed by the other men in the room. You were unconvinced. Telling them to drop the act and just tell you the real reason already, exclaiming how you didn’t have time to play charades with them. No matter how much they tried to convince you of their sincerity, you would have none of it, throwing their past actions in their face as proof of their dishonourable underlying motives. The meeting adjourned with no real progress made, other than the four of them deciding that you would be a danger to yourself if left alone and, therefore, making a schedule of when each of them would be by your side.

Bruce was shocked at your inability to believe in their love for you, his guilt multiplying by a hundred as he realised how untrusting you had become of your own family. He realised that he was to blame, attempting to grasp your hand, so small compared to his. Yet, when his fingers came close to yours, you jerked away, sending him a stare filled with nothing but disgust and hatred. He swore to change this, to do anything in his power to turn you to the truth of your family’s love for you, his love for you, his youngest child. The one he had almost let slip away. 

Dick was heartbroken, he had truly believed that when they revealed their regret, you’d accept them back into your life with open arms. At your apprehension, the acrobat felt as if he was brought right back to when his parents died. Once again feeling his family slip through his fingers. However, this time, he was no longer the innocent bystander, who had done nothing to deserve the situation. No, this time he felt just like the man who had cut the robes of his parents’ trapeze. He had been the one who sabotaged his relationship with you. Still, he refused to let that be how the two of you would part ways. No. He deserved a second chance, he was your brother, after all. Family doesn’t just split with each other because of misunderstandings. He promised you and himself that he would not let it end like this. The two of you would become just as close as he and Damian, no matter how long it’d take. Dick could wait... No, he couldn't.

Tim blamed Jason for your sudden unwillingness to trust their intentions. Not even giving their prior neglect any thought. It was funny how he had practically worshipped Jason when he was younger, but now? Now, he blamed Jason for having corrupted your mind. Tim had completely turned around the memories of you attempting to communicate with him when you were younger. Instead of him telling you to scram every time you walked into his room to talk, he had deluded his own mind into thinking that he used to welcome you with open arms. Certain memories of Conner and him playing video games for hours on end were changed into the two of you doing the very same. He did not blame you for your hesitance, he preferred to solely, yet delusionally, place the entire blame on Jason. The ex-Robin, who had once been Tim’s biggest idol, had now turned into his greatest enemy. The way he so readily placed the blame on someone else spoke volumes about his lack of awareness when it came to your lucidity. He was sure that he could turn your mind ‘right’, by that he, of course, meant, ‘make you believe his version of events’. Tim’s delusional memories might’ve started off as just a plan to manipulate you, but they almost immediately turned into his own perceived truth. Anything to place the blame on Jason and not himself.

While Damian also disliked Jason like Tim, he was nowhere near delusional. He was highly lucid and entirely aware that, yes, they had all treated you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. Yes, you were probably well within your right to deny them any affection or chances. Yes, their new-found obsession with your love had become unhealthy and guilt-ridden, and it was certainly to your detriment. However, Damian had always been selfish and spoiled, two traits of his that he was aware of, yet couldn’t find it within himself to change. He was brought up as a prince his entire life, first as the heir to Eth Alth'eban and then as the unofficial prince of Gotham. There had never been anything he wanted that he didn’t get, and he knew that you would be no different. He was loyal to any cause he set his mind to and now, you would be it. No matter how much you’d fight, he was willing to keep his course. It was better for the both of you, he would get to enjoy your presence, and hopefully your care, while you’d be protected from any and all harm. Damian would give you the world if you asked, literally, so he saw no reason why he couldn’t demand your affection.

After your initial shock at the kidnapping subsided, you came to realise that your family’s newfound care had nothing to do with their public image, but rather some psychotic break in their mentality. Their affections turned clingy and you slowly started to feel a sense of hopelessness. They never let you be alone and they were so demanding of your affections. 

Dick was especially bad in that regard, forcing you to cuddle and be physically affectionate, even if you showed an aversion to physical touch. He didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be close with your eldest brother, which meant he lent you little to no understanding in regards to any lack in the enjoyment of his company. Bruce never stopped Dick, always excusing his overly affectionate demeanour and encouraging you to do the same. Dick would in general be very open and clingy in his affection, barely letting you leave the couch or bed so that he could just encase himself around you like plastic wrap, rubbing your cheeks together and otherwise holding onto you tightly. It would really just be a way for him to make sure yiu were still there, that you weren’t missing like the night they brought you back. It really changed him deeply. Dick would also likely move back into the manor, much to everyone’s, except you, delight. That way he could be near you more often and better follow the observation schedule that they set up.

Bruce himself was much more willing to let you have your space, but there were certain things which he demanded, like you calling him dad, or at least father, or you eating your meals next to him. The eating arrangements always put you between Bruce and Damian, across from Dick. If that wasn’t bad enough, Bruce also enjoyed watching you eat, feeling a sense of fulfilment as he ensured that you stayed safe and sound. Of course, Bruce had cut you out of vigilante life completely, and if it had been solely up to him, he would’ve wrapped you in bubble wrap and kept you by his and your brothers’ sides forever. However, he realised that bubble wrap might be uncomfortable and probably wasn’t a very breathable material for your skin, so he did the next best thing. He made sure that you were constantly provided for, as well as spoiled beyond measure, giving you any gift that he thought you could possibly enjoy. It was, in a way, his way of giving you back what he felt he owed you for all the birthdays, Christmases and other holidays that he had missed out on. Not only that, but he also enjoyed the idea of him providing for you as a good father should.

Tim spent hours trying to ‘re-program’ your mind. He would describe in great detail how the two of you used to spend time together. He became frustrated when you explained how none of it ever happened and started to double down, blaming Jason for messing up your mind. Sometimes, Tim would even drag you to his room, which had become even messier as he slowly started to spend less time there and more time with you, and force you to re-enact ‘your old memories’ by playing the games he remembered the two of you playing. He would force you to sit on his bed, between his legs, as he caged you in with the rest of his lanky body and rested his head on your shoulder. It made you claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but Tim would get pouty and extend the gaming sessions if you tried to get away. The worst part of being with Tim, however, wasn’t listening to his delusional rants about your old relationship, no, that was an unavoidable nuisance at best. The worst thing was how he would dirty Jason’s name with the vilest of allegations, none of them rooted in reality. Everything from Jason kidnapping you, to Jason wanting to put your life in danger to punish Bruce and, worst of all, that Jason was somehow in a conspiracy with the League of assassins to kill you so that Damian would be Bruce’s only true heir. Whether or not you believed anything Tim said in the beginning, it was hard to entirely brush off all his claims as they were repeated to you verbatim almost every day. Sometimes Tim would even present ‘evidence’ for his claims, like videos of Jason acting suspiciously, or messages intercepted between Talia and Jason, written in their handwriting, mentioning you in a less than ideal light. Most of this ‘evidence’ was either taken out of context or simply fabricated. With many of the letters that Tim claimed were from Talia having been written by Damian, who knew his mother’s handwriting down to the smallest flicker of her wrist. 

  Damian was perhaps the most refreshing of them. He wasn’t nearly as overbearing as Bruce, nor was he as clingy as Dick and Tim. Damian was simply quite demanding. “L/n, sit next to me”, “L/n, come read with me in the library”, “L/n, come walk with me through the gardens”, and so on. His commands were easy to follow, and not to be questioned, Now, that was something you could do. Damian was less of an affection seeker, he was more patient than the rest, perfectly willing to wait until you were ready to get emotionally close to him. He would wait, with welcoming arms and a composed smile. If you ever showed Damian any affection, like a hug or putting your head on his shoulder while the two of you were reading, he would experience a brief moment of shock, before laying an arm or two around you, careful not to overwhelm you, but absolutely celebrating like new years in his mind. On the other hand, if you were to try and escape, Damian would have no qualms about breaking both of your legs with a sledgehammer, Annie Wilkes-style. Damian is deeply loyal, both to you and to Bruce, but even more so to himself and his personal beliefs. Once Damian sets a goal, he will not lose sight of it, this is also why he can remain so patient with you, but it also means that even if you somehow calm down the rest of your family’s yandere tendencies to manageable levels, this will never be the case with Damian. He will forever remain by your side, ready to protect and serve you. He does almost become reverent in his familial love for you, not in a deity-like way, but he does view you as one of the only people set above him, this reflects in the painted portraits, which he will no doubt create for you. Your room and his will both end up covered in your portraits, from different angles, with different hairstyles and so on, it is almost unsettling to see your own eyes staring back at you everywhere you go, almost like a 1984 Big Brother, only it is yourself. Damian will also take you to interact with his pets, he might keep both Titus and Batcow at a distance at first, afraid that they’ll hurt you, however, he almost transfers ownership of Jerry and Alfred the cat to you, thinking you could probably need some non-human companions to help you settle back in. He would also help you re-decorate your room if you’d like, only to sneak in deep green imagery here and there to remind you of him.

They are all exceptionally loving of you, you are their little prince/princess/royal, and they make sure to treat you like one. Alfred is almost embarrassed at the over-the-top behaviour, but he accepts it, as he feels obliged to always go with what Bruce wants. Bruce was once his little boy, (not biologically but in spirit), and he understands why the man acts as he does, even if he disagrees with the intensity of their treatment of you. He does, however, offer brief moments of reprieve, when he takes observation duty and simply lets you sit in the kitchen, munching on a cookie or two, doing whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t bring you in danger. It feels nice to just be yourself, even if only for a fleeting instant.

Jason had tried to get you back many times but was constantly being fought back by the rest of the family, physically and mentally. He had tried asking Roy for help, but the redhead was afraid of what they’d do to Lian, so he refused. The other Justice League members were of no help either, while they enjoyed Jason’s presence, they were first and foremost Bruce’s friends, and as such took his side in the matter. There was nothing Jason could do, he was powerless to help you as you were practically held captive within your old childhood home.

In short, the family made you the jewel of their eyes, your previous neglect was swept under the rug and you’re expected to forget it or at least forgive them. If I were to rank them from worst to best, it’d probably be Tim, Dick, Bruce, Damian and Alfred, (let’s be honest, he’d definitely turn at least slightly yandere after a while, even if you won’t notice. Heck, the fact that he lets Bruce hold you captive definitely screams “Not entirely against you being here against your will”). I think Tim would be the worst, as he often puts the need to convince you that you have always been close and his hatred of Jason before your actual wants and needs, and he will do things which you will find traumatic and uncomfortable, just to get you to agree with him. Dick is right behind him, as he puts his own need for extreme physical validation before your comfort and will expect you to forgive him relatively fast, as well as not being particularly sympathetic to your situation. Bruce and Damian are both tolerable, with Bruce being slightly worse due to his extreme overbearingness and lesser patience. Alfred is… well he’s Alfred, he treats you like a normal person would, while just being insanely enabling in his lack of action against Bruce. You’ll never escape any of them, so you better get comfortable.

[yinastra]

✩ A Silent Heartbeat ✩

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Xiao x gn!adeptus!reader

Summary: Xiao has never noticed the beauty of the world around him─ or of his "partner", either.

TW: Self depreciation, survivors guilt

Cws: Xiao talks down on himself a lot, angsty, hurt/comfort(??), sun and moon trope(if you squint)

Wc: Around 4.3k (I've gone insane)

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Xiao's pants come in heavy as he stares at his surroundings.

This ruin guard factory had been becoming more and more active, something he couldn't allow to continue.

There had been a small girl who was almost harmed under his watch by these very ruin guards. Unforgivable, he thought.

How could he, an adeptus sworn to protect the vast lands of Liyue, allow a small child to feel such fear for her life? Unforgivable.

His face is expressionless as he removes the Yaksha mask, placing it back upon his waist.

His work done, he sets out to retire back to the inn for a while to gather his bearings. Then, he shall set out again on his nightly patrol of Liyue.

He appears where he always does, on the roof of Wangshu Inn. There, he sits. He has not the right mind to admire the way the stars shine, nor the crisp night air on his tongue. Instead, he fixates on the scent of bloodshed still lingering on his person.

He notices footsteps on the balcony of Wangshu Inn coming in rapidly. Looking down, it's..

Them.

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An adeptus of fairly negligible background, they serve as a mere worker at Wangshu Inn. However, not long ago..

they were to be assigned as Xiao's personal healer.

Xiao never took care of himself well. Any wound he received he'd brush off as a "flesh wound", not paying much attention. He was an adeptus, how could he protect Liyue and uphold his promise to Morax if he would allow such 'small' wounds hinder his ability to carry out his duties?

Of course, as an adeptus, naturally, the wounds would heal. However, it was no secret that adepti could still feel pain. Even of 'flesh wounds'.

This was made apparent to Zhongli─ Morax, by them.

In turn, Morax summoned Xiao. Without question, Xiao returned to Morax's side, awaiting orders, when─

"Xiao. I'd like to introduce you to your new partner." His deep voice resounded through the walls.

Xiao looks up from his bowed position, eyes piercing and sharp.

There, stands another adeptus, their person adorned with many medicinal herbs utilized for mortal use.

"Useless," He thinks. Mortal medicine doesn't work on him. He's an adeptus, he's meant to be above these material things. He's meant to protect mortals, not waste supplies they need. It'd be undignified of him.

They introduce themselves. Their name, their occupation. "Herbalist," they said. "Doctor," they said.

Useless.

An herbalist? A doctor? A partner?

How useless.

Xiao had no need for those things. He was simply..

he simply..

No matter. He had no need.

However, Morax was persistent on the topic, and who was he, really, to deny Morax's orders? Nobody. So, Xiao 'accepts' this 'partner' of his, with no intentions to further a relation with them.

It began small. Instead of the chef of Wangshu Inn leaving the food for him, they did it. It began with them simply being the one to deliver the almond tofu, leaving it in the night's solemn embrace for him, to them sitting near the balcony's table, carefully setting down the plate for him in wait.

The weight of Morax's expectations pressed upon him like a leaden cloak, each silent command a heavy burden upon his shoulders.

With a resigned sigh, he begrudgingly accepted their presence, feeling the weight of duty pulling him down. He sat in stoic silence, his jaw clenched tight, unwilling to indulge in conversation but willing enough to endure the oppressive silence that hung between them.

..did not deserve.

At best, he'd spare a few words for them. They did this a while, until he learned..

he was specially reserving parts of his day for them. For that very moment.

And then..

He'd reserve for them parts of him. For that very moment.

For that very moment they meet under the moon's gentle glow, as friends, as colleagues, as..

Partners.

It used to be a chore to speak even a few words to them, to even sit at the same table as them. Yet, now..

He craved it.

He wanted them to listen. He wanted them to hear what he had gone through.

Maybe..

Maybe they'd accept him.

What a foolish thought. Incredibly irresponsible─ how could he disregard the fact that his karmic debt would still chip away at their very being, their soul.

So he strays away from them. He sits on the roof longer, peering down at them.

He observes how they deflate when he's late. When he doesn't show up at all.

How their eyes fall down, as they fidget with an accessory on their person, and as they huff to see their breath in the cool night air.

He can't help himself from feeling..

incomplete.

Without their presence, without their listening ear, without their calming voice, without their soft chiding and scolds, he's..

missing something.

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He looks down as they sit there, still waiting for him. As the moon reaches its peak, he realizes they won't leave.

He could just take the almond tofu and leave, right?

He couldn't have anticipated this.

His arrival is immediately met with their warm embrace. He was surprised, startled even.

Dealing with the vicious beasts of Teyvat was usual for him. Not even the most abominable creatures and monsters could make him cower anymore.

And yet..

These mortal feelings, this mortal warmth..

It shook him to his core.

Quickly, they pull away, apologizing for the sudden intrusion of his 'personal space'.

This.. was not a feeling familiar to him.

They apologize profusely, placing the almond tofu on the table and leaving quickly.

He sits down by himself, bringing the almond tofu to his mouth.

Tonight..

The stars seemed to shine brighter.

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The next night he returns with a gaping gash on his arm. He hadn't slept in days, causing his guard to falter for a moment too long.

He grits his teeth as the pain meshes into the strings of karmic debt, pulling and pushing at him constantly.

Without thinking, he jumps down to the balcony.

They seem startled, but the surprise is met with worry as they see the large gash on his arm. Immediately, they stand up, assessing the wound.

Without hesitation, they take his other arm and throw it around their shoulder, holding him up with their own arm.

They lead him to his room, setting him down carefully onto the bed.

"What did I say about sleeping? Even adepti must rest," They chide, carefully wetting a towel and dabbing the spot, causing him to hiss.

"I have to need for mortal activities. I live only to kill, and to kill alone. Sleep is unnecessary." He speaks out gruffly, looking the other way, towards the window.

"This wound speaks otherwise. How are you to protect Liyue if you can't even protect yourself? I require you to rest for at least 3 days before you return to duty." They say, running a hand along the wound.

The wound closes up partially, courtesy of their healing abilities. They open up their medicine bag, pulling out some herbs he's never seen before.

"Mortal medicine won't─"

"This isn't mortal medicine," They interrupt him before he can finish speaking, some of the leaves in their mouth as they place some others in the mortar and pestle to crush into a fine powder.

After a few moments, they add in an herbal base, mixing the two together. They lightly apply the cool paste to his wounded skin. He grits his teeth at the sudden sensation.

"This is adepti medicine. I have specially cultivated it myself. It should help with the pain." They explain, seeming unphased as they crush up another bundle of leaves.

"This.. this will induce a restful sleep. I require you take this every night before the moon reaches its peak." They clarify, holding out the paste that has been mixed into a tea-like base.

He opens his mouth to protest stubbornly, to again, state how he, an adeptus, could not leave his position for such 'useless' rest. However, he, again, is silenced by them. This time..

by their unfaltering gaze.

Eyes swelled with worry, no doubt had he never seen such emotion within an expression, just..

just for him.

He quiets, accepting the treatment.

"...and adepti must eat. Before I send you off to rest, I shall bring you your almond tofu. Don't move too much, that wound isn't completely healed yet." They say, leaving the room, leaving him with his thoughts.

The wind howled outside, a symphony of nature's fury as it swept through the trees, rattling their branches and sending leaves swirling in a chaotic dance.

He looks until he sees his reflection in the window, faintly.

He's pathetic, he thinks. Requiring help as the sworn protector of Liyue, he.. he..

He really didn't deserve this.

How could he have survived? All the other Yaksha..

Why was he the only one left?

Xiao's gaze drifted to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. Memories of battles lost and comrades fallen flashed through his mind like shards of glass. He wasn't the strongest Yaksha, that much was clear.

Each defeat weighed heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of his inadequacy. The thought gnawed at him like a festering wound, twisting his insides with self-doubt. As he looked up at the star-filled sky, he couldn't help but wonder: how could anyone love a warrior who had failed so many times?

He shouldn't have survived. He shouldn't have lived to see this day. And he really shouldn't allow himself the luxury to even.. enjoy these days.

He did not deserve this more than the other Yaksha did. He did not deserve peaceful days, he did not deserve compassion, he did not deserve love and care like the other Yaksha did.

The other Yaksha would have surely treated them better.

Unlike him, who treats them with unwavering frigidity.

Unlike him, who acts indifferent to their acts of service.

Unlike him, who craves their voice, their touch, but will never speak of it.

Unlike him, who is unworthy.

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Footsteps are unheard throughout the halls. He can sense them as they make their way back to his room, a plate of almond tofu in hand.

This was not the plate on the balcony before. This was a new plate, plated differently and made differently from that of the usual; this was not made by the hands of the chef of Wangshu Inn.

"I've decided that the almond tofu on the balcony wasn't tasteful anymore. Here. I've made it myself. I apologize for any mistakes made, the chef wasn't present at this time." They speak quietly, sitting near his bedside and passing him the plate as he sits up.

With his good arm, he raises the mortal utensil to take a bite of it.

It tastes..

It tastes just like a sweet dream.

"..please take the medicine on the bedside. It will help you sleep. If you require anything of assistance, I will be in the room over. Please call my name." They stand up, gathering their things, before a hand clutches their wrist.

He wants to ask for them to stay, just for a while longer, he wants to tell them all of these complicated human emotions, but he quiets these thoughts.

"Thank.. you." He manages to mutter, before quickly releasing them.

They give him a small nod and leave.

That night, he takes the sleeping medicine.

The dreams it induces are..

sweet.

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The next morning, he awakes to the sound of the morning birds singing, the sun filtering through the shades of his room.

Sitting up, he feels his head pound. No more than a side effect of the medicine, he assures himself.

Waking up this way was.. new.

It felt so.. tranquil here.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the herbalist walking into his room. They sit down near his bedside once more, holding the back of their hand to his forehead to check for temperature.

"Good morning, Xiao. How do you feel?" They ask, rummaging through their bag for something.

"..Fine." He replies curtly, unwilling to elaborate.

"Alright then. I suggest you stay in bed for today. Tomorrow, you should be set to start moving again, but still no combat or sharp movements, you hear me?"

"..This is unnecessary."

"Do you hear me, Xiao?" They reiterate again sternly.

He paused, knowing they wouldn't let up until he agreed.

"..yes." He murmurs begrudgingly.

"Perfect. I'll have Smiley Yanxiao prepare your─"

"Can you.. please.. do it.." He manages to rasp, his voice caught in his throat at the prospect. What was he doing? Why would he say that? They were already taking such good care of him.. something he truly didn't deserve. So why.. why was he asking for more? Why did he crave more?

They pause.

Were they going to deny his request? To have his request, spoken so brazenly be denied was to be expected, he thought. He said to himself, "Why would they ever do this for me again? They'd be better off with nothing to do with me."

"..Of course." They reply.

"Stay here. It'll only be a moment. And remember; no sharp movements." They remind, leaving the room, and leaving Xiao breathless in the process.

Breathless from the sheer effort it took to mutter that request.

Breathless from their reply.

And breathless from them.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The moments pass as Xiao stares down at his lap. Xiao: bedridden, helpless, at the mercy of another adeptus.

The other Yaksha would never humor this idea of him. After all, he was always so cold and brooding, who would ever think of him sitting in bed, with only his thoughts to accompany him? And with..

A companion, to boot.

This time, he doesn't sense their presence before they walk through the door.

He let his guard down again. And he wasn't even tired.

How foolish of him. What if it had been some kind of creature? He couldn't begin letting his guard down like this. This would be detrimental to his role as protector of Liyue. How could he be so weak? How could he be so foolish?

But it wasn't. It was them.

"Xiao?" Their voice snaps him out of his thought.

"Here you are. Please take this time to rest. Liyue needs its protector, but no living being is simply a machine. Liyue needs its protector to be in his best condition, alright?" They say, folding some of the towels by his bed.

"..right." He mutters, mouth full of almond tofu.

"I'll be off today. I must tend to my fields." They stand up from their sitting position.

"Just call my name if you ever need me, and I will be there." They say, as their footsteps trail out of the room, their presence disappearing soon.

That day, he takes his time looking out at the world. The sun had begun to set, the air beginning to change into the sharp night he was all too familiar with.

He never noticed the beautiful oranges, yellows, and pinks before. When the sun sets, it paints such a beautiful picture. Much unlike the sight of bloodshed he usually observed. The blood staining his clothing, the blood staining the ground around him.

He took the medicine on his bedside, slowly drifting off to sleep as the sun followed suit.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The next time he awoke, they were already there with a plate of almond tofu for him, made fresh. His arm certainly felt better, he noticed.

The sun seemed brighter than he'd ever noticed, the trees lush and the flowers seemed to prosper under its watchful gaze.

He sits up in bed, hands in his lap.

"May I touch your arm?" They ask.

He's surprised. Nobody has ever asked him before. They might have noticed how his demeanor changed with physical contact. They..

worried about his comfort?

..Inconceivable.

He slowly nods, holding out his arm. It surely felt better than it did the day before, but it still slightly hurt to hold out.

They trace two fingers over his wound, helping the scarring swell down. After, they apply the cooling paste once more.

"It looks like you'll be alright," They begin.

"You'll be able to get out of bed today. Just no fighting. And no sharp movements, as the wound could still open." They conclude, standing up to leave after their assessment of the situation. They must be going back to tend to their fields, something Xiao had no experience in. He doubted he could be helpful, and him, a merciless killer, tending to delicate plants and herbs? He could never. But still..

"May I.. come with you?" He chokes out. "To.. to your fields." He clarifies.

A slight expression of surprise surfaces on their face as they think for a moment. They seemed perplexed.

"I.. I understand if─"

"..You can come." They nod. "I don't mind some extra help. And it's good to get some fresh air."

"You mean.. I can.. come?" He asks, mouth running dry.

"Of course. Would you be ready to come now? I can wait a few moments."

"Y.. yes. I can come now." He quickly says, sounding more.. eager than he meant to.

"Great. Would you like a change of clothing? I'll have your current clothes washed."

"A change of clothing? I don't own any other articles of clothing."

"..ah. I see. Not to worry, I'm sure there are some basic articles of clothing in here." They say, walking over to the dressers and rummaging through them. Not a few moments later do they return with some basic clothing─ a brown shirt that clasps in the middle and pants that are tapered at the bottom.

"I assume you don't need help with dressing?" They ask, cocking an eyebrow.

"No. I have not lost my ability to dress." He speaks, looking away.

"Good, good. I'll be outside of your room should you require any assistance. Feel free to come out once you're ready." They say, leaving the room and shutting the door.

Once dressed, Xiao takes in the feeling of the common clothing.

He's never been in this clothing before. It felt.. different. The cloth felt strange on his body. This.. was mortal clothing. He should never be seen wearing mortal clothing. It was unbecoming of someone of his status.

Walking out of the room, he catches a glimpse of them in the kitchen, helping Smiley Yanxiao with the influx of orders. Their moves are quick, nimble, and he finds that they are skilled in cooking. Their hands are delicate, most likely due to the skill required to pluck plants and herbs from the ground without damaging them.

They look up and see Xiao. Smiling at Smiley Yanxiao, they wave a goodbye to him and walk over to Xiao.

The pair set off not a moment later.

Walking on the stone path, a silence covers the two. The hot sun was at its peak, leading the herbalist to pull up their sleeves.

Soon after, they arrive at the plot of land. As far as Xiao's eye can see, the fields are filled with various different types of herbs. They harvest this.. all by themselves?

"If you'd like to help, go and grab a few of the baskets. We'll begin with 3, and then we can get more if needed." They instruct, leaving him to find the baskets.

Doing mortal chores in mortal clothing, how idiotic of him to partake in such activities, he thought to himself as he moved through the fields, trying his best not to trample any of the plants.

As he makes his way back, he finds they they've already plucked many herbs from the ground. They must be used to this by now.

He leans downward, trying his best to pluck the herbal leaves. He's confused when the leaf crumbles in his grasp. Perhaps this was just a testament to his murderous nature, unable to appreciate beauty and preserve it. Perhaps he really was only meant for murder, killing, and war. Perhaps─

His thoughts are interrupted as they seem to notice his struggle, crouching down next to him. Beckoning him to look and observe, their hands gently pluck the leaves without haste. This leaves it pristine, looking as if it had been untouched.

His breath hitches. He could never do that. His work was based on haste and power. He could only ever destroy beauty, this was a fact he knew rang true. But as they took his hand, gently ran his coarse fingers across the leaves, and plucked it with such care, he wondered..

..was he capable of being.. gentle?

He discarded the thought.

As he worked alongside them in the fields, a sense of tranquility settled over him, the burden of his duties momentarily lifted by the simple act of tending to the earth.

The torturous strings of his karmic debt still tore at him, body and soul, even if he should have been at peace.

Who was he angry at?

That night, he lies in bed, staring out at the window to catch a glimpse of the moons glow. He never noticed how bright it shone, even if the sun proved brighter.

The moonlight beamed down, coating the world in a fluorescent white. The world stands still, the world stagnating into a cold blue as the night ran its course.

He closed his eyes.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The next time he opened his eyes, the dawn was still young. Looking out to the window, he took note of the warm sun that blanketed the landscape, protecting all in its light.

The reflection of himself in the glass of the window was more apparent, almost like the stained glass in an art piece.

The door creaks open, revealing them in their usual form.

As per usual, they come in and inspect his wound, checking for any changes.

"It should be almost fully healed by now. I do advise you take it easy for today, however, you're ready to get back on 'duty' tomorrow." They nod, staying in their sitting position.

They mutter something to themselves before turning to the bedside table, handing Xiao a plate of almond tofu.

Xiao silently takes the plate, bringing the spoon to his mouth for a mouthful.

Within their presence, he realizes, time.. felt endless.

The days that have passed were simple days, filled with menial, useless tasks.

So why did he feel..

So fulfilled?

The other Yaksha wanted to become as the mortals did once the archon war ended.

They all wanted to live what he was living now.

He, at that time, had no interest in the mortal lifestyle, even after the war.

..did he?

But even so, he had no business feeling fulfillment of any kind.

He who was worthless.

He who was unworthy.

Yet, that day, he stayed in bed without protest.

He sat idly instead of stubbornly requesting release.

And he spoke with them.

A long while.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

By the end of it, the wounds imbedded into his psyche were very evident.

They paused, pursing their lips a moment, before responding.

"...I apologize. My expertise.. is in the body, the flesh. I have no resources to heal the wounds of the mind."

"..Perhaps.. you are capable of much more than you believe." He replies, not quite understanding what his own words meant.

That night, as they left his room, he came to a conclusion.

The one he was angry at had always been himself.

Angry for surviving.

Angry for being so powerless.

Angry, for everything.

And yet, with the presence of his 'partner', he noticed the way the grass would bend to the breeze, as the tides would rise and fall with the moon.

He noticed the will of the mountains, unwavering and steeled.

He noticed the blooming of the flowers, resilient in their passage.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The sun rises to light the path and protect, even if he doesn't realize it.

The moon rises to set the path for rest, its cold tones readying the world for the suns warmth.

The sun burns so bright to give hope and strength, but even the sun must rest, lest the sun burn itself to the core, unable to shine once more.

The moon may not shine as bright, but even so, it will always serve as a light in the dark, a symbol of rest.

The sun doesn't realize his capacity for warmth and love.

As the sun guides all others, the moon will slowly guide the sun unto the path of peace.

Where, on that pier,

he may finally look onto his reflection,

and accept who he is.

[yuusishi]

. . . TIRED

pairing : Jing Yuan x gn!reader

genre : semi-angst , comfort

cws/tws : self-indulgent vent fic , reader has a rough relationship with their father , mentions of father getting mad at them

a/n : I know I'm on hiatus but on god I just really needed to make this cuz I'm NOT okay rn. Also just a note: The feelings that reader experiences here are my feelings from earlier, ofc not everyone reacts this way but I just felt like I needed to say that first.

Jing Yuan !!

A sudden slam on the dining table snapped Jing Yuan out of his focus while he was busy fiddling with his phone, trying out a game that Yanqing convinced him to play. You left the bedroom a few minutes ago to take a call from your father, he guessed that it didn’t end well. His guess was right when he sees you clutching your phone tightly while a hand was pressed on your forehead.

Jing Yuan wasn’t stupid or unaware of your rather rough relationship with your father, you didn’t even tell him about your relationship with the general until he saw it on the news. You weren’t interested in his reaction or what he wanted out of it, you knew the last thing you wanted was him getting involved. If you didn’t want him to meet your father then he wouldn’t try to convince you to, Jing Yuan knows when are the right moments to talk and when he seems like he’s trying to pry too much.

“[Name]?” he called out, he knows you heard him but he also knew you were too distracted by the swarm of annoying thoughts that buzzed in your mind like flies. He quietly walked forward until he stood beside your figure, only then did your hand land at your side once more while you looked at your partner with tired eyes, eyes that no longer held any rage yet it was replaced with emptiness and the desire to be taken away from all problems in life. He cautiously hovers his hand over the crown of your head and started carding his fingers through your hair gently after seeing no negative reactions from it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you wordlessly shook your head, understanding immediately he led you both up the stairs until you’re in the comfort of Jing Yuan’s arms once again, tightly clutching onto his sleeve knowing you probably should and can cry in front of him without expecting judgment from the man next to you, but you just can’t. Your body just felt like that single phone call drained the life out of you. Everything felt so empty.

“I just don’t get it” you started, Jing Yuan stared at you with a gentle gaze “What don’t you get?”, “He just told me something, then I asked what I should do, he didn’t even try to explain, then got so angry when I asked again. I’m not some mind reader, you know…” your eyes now faced the decorated ceiling above you, not bearing to look at your partner as you mindlessly ranted about that man, “No one expects you to be a mind reader, dear, it’s his ignorance and negligence of his own child that makes him think that you two are close enough to be able to know what the other wants without speaking a word.”

You want to react in some way, a way to show that you’re thankful for what Jing Yuan said, but all you can manage with the little amount of energy you now have is a sigh and a small thanks to his way. His fingers once again made their way through your hair, smoothing out any knots and twirling them around, “You don’t have to say anything, [Name], just rest”.

[thecameronchronicles]

Roommates

TW: smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Sexual tensions with your roommate reach a fever pitch. 

WORD COUNT: 2300

REQUESTED

Can you do one where JJ and reader are roommates, they're both sexually frustrated and get into an argument about something stupid and just end up fucking? And JJ tries being cocky with her being wet but she jerks him off and he groans and just melts in her touch

Roommates 

JJ Maybank was the world's worst roommate. Dishes left in the sink for days at a time. Laundry strewn in a parade of negligence as a path of where he was going to and from. The shameless revolving door of women he entertained calling for God less than an hour of showing up. But the worst detail was that you lusted after him since you were convinced by your co-worker, Kie, to move in with him when you were both desperate for a place to stay. 

"He's harmless, really. Just a bit of a rebel." She convinced you through the loyalty all the Pogues still had for one another well after high school. The way he even defended Kiara against a group of drunk Kooks one night when she had to work late had been the final incentive for you to agree. He was even the ideal roommate to begin with. 

But a week in, his chores and cleanliness slipped as he became comfortable in the tensions between you. Almost feeding off of them. Because of it, you made every excuse you could to be away from the apartment, only returning to be bickered at or being the source of nitpicking until one of you slammed the doors into silence. 

"JJ!" You barked from the shower, a sudden rush of icy rainfall making you shriek as you were already running late in another attempt to evade him. 

"Yes, princess? Need help getting those hard to reach places?" He was already in the bathroom, extending a towel off of his ringed fingers you were ashamed were a pivotal feature in the fantasies that came to you when he was with another girl. 

Which come to think of it, hadn't been for some time...

"Did you turn on the sink?!" The pipe system was less than desirable, the cheap rent making this a forgivable trait to your abode. 

"Did I? Must have slipped my mind..." He smirked, dimples weakening your anger, despite the fact your expression hardened. 

"Are you almost done? Some of us are responsible and need to get to work on time..." He motioned for an invisible watch nonexistent on his wrist as your glare sharpened. Stealing the towel, you cleaned the remaining shampoo out of your hair, and wrapped it around you before finding him still hovering in the doorway. 

"Seriously? Stalker much?"

"This is the first time seeing you wet for me...think I'm gonna miss it?" 

"I-you..." 

"You're so cute when you blush..." He moved past you, closing the door before you could respond. As a child in the middle of a tantrum, you stomped away into your room before coming up with an idea. 

Searching for his phone while he was distracted, you ended up learning small details about him while in his space. Gum wrappers. Condom wrappers. Of course he wears fucking magnums. You rolled your eyes before your lip was trapped between your teeth at the idea, pulling the wrapper between your fingers and resting on your heels, distracted by your thoughts. 

"Something I can help you with?" You threw the wrapper and climbed off of his bed. 

"I was cleaning up. Someone had to…" You spoke proudly despite the lack of evidence to back you up. 

"Why don't we just get this over with..." He sighed. "Yes. I'm the biggest guy you'll never have."

"Please. I wouldn't touch you or let you touch me even if you paid me..."

"You couldn't afford me." He shot back. 

"Oh, and the girls you have come here can?" You were on your feet, gripping the towel at your chest to keep it from falling as he kept his eyes to you while yours threatened to fall to his Adonis belt and beyond. 

"Seems to me you'd need to pay them to forget about it since they never come back twice."

"Personal preference. You jealous sweetheart? Maybe if you asked really nicely I could help you with your problem..." 

"My problem?"

"The fact you're dripping on my bed." He ghosted your lips before moving to his bed, leaning on his palms. 

"Damn...even down your legs. Denial makes you wet, princess..."

"I'm wet because I just got out of the shower!" 

"Whatever the reason, it’s still making you drip on my bed…"

"God you're incorrigible!" 

"And you're sexy when you're mad."

"Then I'm about to be a goddamn wet dream-"

"You said it..." His eyes were shameless. "Maybe if you admit you're jealous..."

"I'm not fucking jealous!"

"No? But you're still wet-" You matched over to him, forcing his hand beneath your towel. 

"See?!" But he immediately began to rub circles around your clit as you stood over his thigh. 

"Don't..." He warned as you tensed. He guided your hand over his shoulder as your nails began to dent his sun-kissed skin while you rode against his hand. 

"I fucking knew it. I thought I heard you get off yesterday in the bathroom...might have to always offer you a towel and maybe-" You tried to push him away to deny an inflation of his arrogance but he then shoved a finger inside of you. 

"Oh shit..." You gasped.

"There's no shame in being wet for me...it's pointless to deny it when I'm..." He slipped another finger. "Two knuckles deep in your tight little pussy, princess. And shit...you're even wetter than I hoped..." You clenched your jaw, moving back far enough until ripping his towel away and stroking him. 

"Oh fuck..." 

But something you weren't expecting came in the connection. As his eyes widened and he relaxed back on his palms, he melted against you. It was almost beautiful how he was reacting to you and the power you got from it was enough to make you truly drip down your own thighs. 

"Fuck, just like that..." You quickened and twisted his cock in percent tugs as his breathing slowly began to become affected. 

"I haven't been able to fucking come since hearing you use that vibrator-" You blushed at the memory of him walking in on you when you believed you were alone. You thought you'd convinced him by saying it was a massager for a pulled muscle in your thigh, but now you were grateful he knew the truth. 

But that was months ago. Months without another woman. Rewarded now. 

"You hard for me, JJ?" 

"Rock fucking solid, princess...Jesus..." You pumped harder as he groaned. Delicious growls and even whimpers when your thumb brushed his tip. Precum taken behind your pouty lips.

"Shit!" He convulsed as you surprised him as his eyes closed. Taking him into your mouth as he watched you work him expertly. 

"Keep those eyes on me...I wanna watch you take it..." His lips parted into an unsteady O. 

"Can you take all of it? I'll fuck your throat if you can-" When he could, you submitted him to that full extent as he shot to his feet, dragging you against the wall and bowing over you as he bucked himself into your throat. 

"Yes, fuck yeah...just like that, princess...take all of it...shit!" He kept your head from being concussed by the grip on the back of your neck as you made a mess down your own chest of tears and spit. 

"Oh I'm gonna come...I'm gonna fucking come..." He was close by your allowance until you retracted. 

"Oh yeah?" He pulled you by your hair and into the bed, forcing you on your stomach and then into your palms and knees. 

"Anyone ever tell you it isn't nice to tease, princess?" You began to rasp as his fingers worked inside of you, stretching and pulling come hither motions as he smirked and laughed at your ear. 

"Fuck, your moaning alone could make me come-" You belted a response as he pulled you to his chest. Forcing your towel away and palming your breast before twisting your nipples. 

"You want my cock, huh?"

"You couldn't handle me..." He scoffed before sheathing himself inside of you, your face turned to take in his gasp. 

"Oh shit, you're tight...oh...oh fuck..." He began to bounce you like this for only a second before firing you back in all fours. 

"You like it from behind, huh?" He smacked your ass as you nodded. 

"Harder!" Another snack and a gasp prompted him deeper. 

"Fuck, turn around...you're gonna take me deeper." You weren't able to obey as much as just be pliable before he thrust into you the second you were on your back. Legs taken over his shoulders as pounded into you. A hand on the wall made you somewhat bent on a perfect precision of his cock to your g-spot. 

"Oooh that's that spot isn't it? Oh yeah, that face...yes..." He hit the wall hard. 

"Fuck...fuuuuck..." He arched his back as your eyes caught sight of the condom wrappers as you gasped. 

"JJ-"

"I'm not fucking coming in a condom...you got me this hard...I'm already this deep...I'm filling you up...to the fucking brim..." You moaned as he bent you further. "Oh fuck...say it..."

"Come inside me! Oh God! I need it! JJ!"

"Fuck! Say my name again..."

"JJ!"

"Fuck me back, baby...let me see those tits-" You reacted immediately, bouncing and thrusting until he flattened you still. 

"Here it comes...you want it inside?" You nodded desperately. "Yeah? You want my cum dripping down your legs princess?"

"Yes! JJ! Give me your cum!" 

"Yeah. Fu-FUCK!" He thrusted twice over before filling you as promised. 

"Jesus..." He set his forehead to yours before climbing out of you. Disappointment came in the remaining throb between your legs before he returned with your vibrator. 

"I've heard you get off with this thing for weeks-I was jealous...and you're gonna do it for me..."

"How did you even know where it was?"

"Just followed your scent..." You winced at the joke before he started it. 

"Oh wow...you won't last long with this will you?" The wand was strong and could make you come in under two minutes if given the right motivation. 

"You can't make me?"

"You weren't so good with your mouth, you'd be on your third...I'll make up for it later..." He lowered over you. 

"Open." He grinned to your compliance. 

"Use it. I want to know what you look like when you came all those nights I jerked off against that wall hearing you come..." 

"Oh God..." His words prompted you to pulsate it against you. His fingers pulled you wider. 

"Oh shit...yes...you're already dripping down yourself...ever made yourself squirt?" You nodded. 

"Next time will be with me..."

"Jesus, I could now..."

He held the back of your head. "Fucking show me." You began slowly, edging yourself. 

"I need to feel it..." He set two fingers into a curl. 

"Ooh it's close-"

"Yeah? Then let me have it, princess...come on...soak my fingers like you want to my cock...oh fuck...I'm throbbing again..."

"Do it!" 

"Nope. You're squirting where I can see it-"

"I wanna squirt on your cock!" 

"Well how can I say no to that?" He guided you over his lap as he kept the vibrator at your clit. 

"JJ-"

"I think I prefer when you scream my name instead of screaming at me."

"Then make me..." He rode into you, coming close to his own release as you began to clench. "Oh shit...oh my God!"

"Yeah that it?"

"Oh yeah...oh YES! JJ ! IM GONNA FUCKING-" You were unhinged, soaking him through convulsions as he kept you as handled as he could without wanting to keep you reserved. 

"Oh fuck...yeah baby, ride that cock...I'm so fucking close..." You were leaning with your palms at his legs as you took him with such power. Your hips smashing against his until he rounded you onto your back. 

"Give me one more...I can feel you fucking clenching. One more!" He ordered as he held you beneath him. 

"I might squirt again...AHHH!!!" He withdrew himself long enough to use only his fingers to get you closer to your edge.

"JJ! YES!!!" His fingers were merciless and sloppy. Raw sounds of squelching and suction interrupting your shared moans as he stroked himself to your own pleasure. When feeling you begin to convulse, he returned with a brutal slam. 

"On. My. Cock." He ordered. Stars formed behind your eyes as you arched and he buried himself to the hilt to feel every rush of cum joined between you. 

"Keep going..." You whimpered through your overstimulation until his lazy thrusts tattled his second release. 

"Shit..." He fell over you, careless to the weight across your chest. As you chuckled, he rose carefully. A devil still raging behind his eyes as he moved to your breast. His tongue circling as he nibbles it into a suction. 

"JJ...I can't..."

"It's been months...and that was the hardest I've ever fucking come in my life...I'm not done with you yet..." You shook against his fingers. 

"Give me one more and I'll do the dishes."

"And the laundry-"

He snickered. 

"I'll put you back in my mouth if you do the laundry-"

"I think we can find an arrangement..." He grinned to that countless orgasms cresting. "Oh yeah, princess...I think I'll be able to deal with this whole roommate situation..." On a laugh, you came. Faster but harder than before, setting a record he was set to beat each and every argument from here on out. 

Every argument well worth the makeup of having JJ Maybank as your roommate.

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