#domestic abuse tw

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Saw this question appear on the main page of reddit and HMMMMM

However, the court said, "The crime was cruel, including brutally murdering a woman living with him at home, and he was not forgiven by the bereaved family. However, it appears that he committed the crime accidentally out of anger while experiencing extreme stress such as noise between floors, and he reported it to the police immediately. The sentence was decided in consideration of the fact that the family of the accused paid the bereaved family compensation.”  [...] The bereaved family said, "What kind of parent would give up her child's life in exchange for 42 million won?" and appealed, "My 24-year-old daughter, who had been sick all her life, was in pain even in her last moments. Please help us."

Stabbed his girlfriend 190 times, non-fatally harmed himself then immediately called emergency services so they could treat him, showed no remorse, even said in his disposition that he thought of killing his girlfriend that day, the neighbors he was beefing with moved before this so the claims he was upset about them being noisy could not be true, and there's no proof the girlfriend even insulted him like he claimed, but the judge found he committed this clearly premeditated crime 'accidentally'. And people wonder why women in South Korea are upset?

#not a dream #murder tw #death tw #violence tw #abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #stabbing tw #south korea

[mysharona1987]

What a horrible story this is.

#News #abortion #texas #gun violence #true crime #democrats #republicans #politics #dallas #woc #domestic abuse tw

[lousolversons]

Fargo FX - S5E08 - "Blanket" Fargo Season 5 Soundtrack - Toxic (feat. Lisa Hannigan) - Jeff Russo

#fargo #fargo fx #fargoedit #television #this scene simply would not come across in gif form #it's SO good god #domestic abuse tw

[citylighten]

BEGINNING // PREVIOUS // NEXT

@cartelheir @wannabecatwriter @dresdendarlin @crsentfairy @santanasimsx @thewalkingplumbob @weirdosalikewhims @nightlifeseries @ellemant @99simproblems @sharpiegirl @lushnightjelly @reverieinsimlish @javitrulovesims @eslanes @waitingforspoons @miss-may-i @rainymoodlet @quesims @keesimziaa @lynzishell @nilonne @percosim @havenroyals @digital-deluxe @swiftviolets @stevihj @sheplayswithlifee @joannebernice @ardeney-sims @straightouttasimulation

#sink or swim #ts4 story #ts4 storytelling #domestic abuse tw #violence tw

[shummthechumm]

bumble wc is just a piece of writing from this series that TRULY astounds me. like the characters do not acknoledge that shes a living person whatsoever once she becomes a "nuisance" (she is fat and a house pet). and on top of that, to have turtle tail turn her back on her as well??>?? because gray wing has it bad for her and so we have to exterminate the "obstacle" in the way of their straight romance???

like i expect gray wing and clear sky to be dicks but..why would TURTLE TAIL rationally allow her friend (who lived through the same abuse as she) be shunned away from the moor group??

its some of the most mean spirited shit in this entire series and it only exists as a plotline...for what reason??? cause "kittypets are bad you dont want to be a kittypet"?? its not like you remind us every fucking arc erin hunter. because we're supposed to like gray wing and they really wanted him to serve as an adoptive parent to turtle's litter?? like..what???

i dont even have a real point to this post i just want to express my confusion cause what even was the goal. it does nothing but make the entire cast abuse-enabling discriminatory assholes who are willing to send outsiders to easily preventable deaths. and we're supposed to agree with these jackasses??? ERIN HUNTER WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY TO YOUR ELEMENTARY SCHOOL AUDIENCE???

#domestic abuse tw #abuse tw #wc #again no real point i was trying to make here #dotc as a whole floors me in how incompetent it is. #'oots is the worst arc' who?? #the only one worst than dotc imo is tnp because thats where a lot of shitty trends in this series were created or exacerbated #like i can point at gray wing being a shitty sad boy protag but if i REALLY wanted to blame someone...tnp came first... #im sure if crow was made a pov he would also be as terrible as bramble in that arc #also tom getting a redemption death AFTER getting turtle tail killed is hilariously terrible. #like yeah we killed turtle tail off to service a male char's arc because shes a woman #but we chose to fridge bumble because she was a woman AND a kittypet. and fat. #shummy screaming into the void

[knuckle]

Seeing people change their opinions about Depp because of the unsealed documents is fine and whatever but most of this info (or more damning info) was already available all the way back in the UK trial. We knew Depp has doctored audio to poison the well and that he doctored photographs in the same way he accused her of doing. We knew he joked with friends about violent rape fantasies. We knew medical professionals saw her with bruises and thought Depp was in a very bad place with his addiction. We knew he was controlling of her sexuality and would take low blows to smear her like fabricating violent incidents. We knew that a witness testified that she has been intimidated and threatened by Depp's lawyer Adam Waldman to give a false deposition. We knew he's bigoted and calls people vile slurs behind their backs. We knew he got a woman to lie that Heard stole her rape story. We knew Stephen Deuters texted her an apology on behalf of Depp for kicking her in that plane. Yeah there's a few disgusting new details, but it's all part of the same sad story, and it's kind of confusing that this all wasn't enough to believe her before

#Johnny depp #Amber Heard #rape tw #domestic abuse tw

[vani-candy]

[previous] [index] [next]

FINALLYYYYYyyYyyYYY DONE!!!!! not counting Push Forward (which was split in two) this is by far the longest chapter ive done, just barely making tumblr's page limit!!! this took quite a while cause i got pretty sick right after Christmas (im all better now!) so i spent a lot of time trying to rest up instead. i also rewrote the ending like three times lol (first time i rushed it, second time i tried rewriting it while sick and it came out goofy, third time's the charm!) content warning: this chapter is quite heavy and contains discussions/depictions of both child and domestic abuse as well as mental and physical health issues. please take care while reading and i hope you enjoy! (next chapters in my head are fairly fluffy and happy so these two can have a break from the angst. as for me im gonna go to bed for a few days HAHAHAA)

#my time at sandrock #mtas builder #mtas oc #mtas fang #mtas x #swans treasure #oc x canon #vani candy art #comic #fancomic #child abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #abuse tw #mental health tw

[crookedlyinnernightmare]

something that’s bugged me a lot about chapter 1 is the difference between kuniharu’s thoughts and kurumi’s thoughts when they’re fighting

Kuniharu’s thoughts seem very lighthearted and playful. i mean, “juuust kidding”? “pyon ~ ☆”? “teehee”? he seems like he’s having fun, despite nearly getting hit by a table. what a strange guy...

but as for kurumi:

“Oh no, what am i doing...!!”

“Ahh... I said something horrible again...”

“It’s a lie... I actually love you both very much...!”

imo, Kurumi’s thoughts aren’t playful the way her husband’s are. She seems earnest. She regrets her actions and the stuff she’s saying but...

She also gets defensive. I’m sure she’s actually relieved that Kusuo stepped in, but she can’t admit it out loud because that would mean breaking character. The person she’s pretending to be is unrepentant in their hatred, so her true feelings get covered up. and um. that’s not healthy? like, at all?

It’s like, somewhere along the way this domestic abuse roleplay got a little too real. Kurumi isn’t having fun, and I’d argue that it brings out the worst in her.

(i mean, i never saw the appeal of this game in the first place so i’m probably biased but. given the evidence...)

#domestic abuse tw #saiki kuniharu #saiki kurumi #saiki k

[half-man-half-lime]

Into the Skitter-Verse concept:

On the day when she would have been unmasked, Taylor has to deal with an attack on the Earth Gimel portal, by (insert villain with interesting motivations)- the attack shatters the portal and basically passes the array of different dimensions and straight-up punctures the Fourth Wall. Taylor dies in the process while another cape (insert backstory here) has to take up her mantle.

Meanwhile the breach lets in five alternate-universe Skitters:

- A version of Taylor (Taylor B. Hebert) from a universe where the Slaughterhouse Nine killed all of the Undersiders but her, and she doesn't really have the will to keep going on as a cape and try to stop the apocalypse.

- A version of Brian (Skitter-Grue) who triggered younger from his mom's abusive boyfriend with the power to summon a telekinetically-enhanced swarm to shroud him, it can do stuff like throw punches from behind him in sync with his boxing form, form bridges and handholds, etc. Lost his friend Taylor after... I guess she stole a Cauldron dose to go after her bullies and became a dangerous Case 53?

- 80s Saturday Morning Skitter (The Skitter) (kind of a Techno-Queen ripoff, sorry), part of the rogues gallery of nemeses to the kid-friendly version of the Wards. Accidentally tripped over her brusque but harmless classmate Sophia Hess into a locker full of toxic waste, learned she was Shadow Stalker, and swore revenge for... some reason?

- Ultra-cerebral Shounen character Skitter (Sukita), everything according to Keikaku, has a swarm clone that's also a Stand, talks way too much

- Wild West Skitter. An outlaw of few words.

Anyway yeah that's all I got.

#Parahumans #Skitter #Into The Spider-Verse #Child Abuse tw #Domestic Abuse tw

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My baby sister’s first word was balls and that my mom beat my dad for wearing the American flag instead of clothes.

#dream #text #January 24th 2023 #sister #family #first word #violence tw #american flag #flag #usa #abuse tw #physical violence tw #mother #father #parents #domestic abuse tw #queueueueueueueueueueueueueue

[scarecrowdrugs]

Clarice, my awful daughter who has every disease, finally has her costume! Now, to recap Clarice's lore thus far. She's a heavily altered version of Jonathan Crane's half-sister from Year One, aged up a few years so she's around seven during that story's events. Unlike the original, Jonathan actually succeeded in murdering his entire immediate family, ending with the strangulation of his own mother on Mother's Day and the kidnapping of his baby sister.

Clarice and Jon don't exactly have the healthiest bond, considering the circumstances. Jonathan kidnapped her with the intention of spiting his recently deceased mother through the indoctrination of his little sister, only to end up genuinely viewing her as his surrogate daughter. Clarice, much to her genuine discomfort, also views him as a father figure, mostly due to the domestic abuse she both witnessed and experienced at the hands of her biological father. Unsurprisingly, she was a very unsettling child to be around, with a heavy fascination with death and horror. She was pretty much raised with the understanding that there would regularly be people experimented on in the basement, though Jonathan at the very least didn't do this in the same room as her. At the age of twelve, she was sent to foster care after accidental exposure to fear toxin during a fight between Jonathan and Batman caused her to lash out and stab Jonathan right in the stomach.

Unfortunately for her, this made things go from bad to worse for several reasons:

The foster care system in the United States is notoriously not the greatest and Gotham, being how it is, is even worse. Clarice has been through several different placements due to no one wanting to deal with the possibility of being attacked by Scarecrow.

Being related to a supervillain is bad enough, but being closely related to the Scarecrow, notorious for murder and mass chemical warfare, is even worse. Clarice had to deal with death threats, suicide baiting, doxxing, and being shunned by her peers when she finally got to go to school, leaving her with severe paranoia around other people her age. It doesn't help that she has absolutely no idea how to act around other kids, mostly a result of both her childhood isolation as well as being on the Autism spectrum.

She's unsurprisingly very mentally ill as a result of everything she's been through, and being mentally ill in Gotham City of all places carries a lot of social stigma. Clarice is absolutely terrified of having the police called on her if she's having a crisis. It doesn't help that she's not been given adequate counseling for her trauma, and she's often head to deal with medications that have made her already fragile mental health even worse. As it stands, she's mostly dealing with PTSD, severe depression, anxiety, as well as possibly BPD and OCD. It also doesn't help that she's developed many harmful coping mechanisms, such as pulling out her hair, scratching to the point of bleeding, as well as hitting herself on the head.

Despite everything she's been through because of him, she felt utterly betrayed when Jonathan didn't come back for her after going into foster care. Due to her paranoia, she eventually started to believe that he either abandoned out of spite or that he wanted to kill her just like her parents. Although despite what she thinks, the real reason he left her behind was due to a genuine fear that he'd get her killed as well as him being utterly terrified of forming attachments.

Scream Queen was mostly her way of getting control of her own life for once, as well as it being a method for acting out her violent intrusive thoughts without being judged. Clarice's true feelings are shown through Scream Queen instead of in her civilian life. Outside of costume, she tends to be extremely anxious and doesn't speak up often, sometimes even nonverbal. In-costume, she's extremely dramatic and aggressive, as well as being far more talkative.

Her main intention with becoming a vigilante, outside of taking control of her own life, is mostly to get back at Jonathan. According to Clarice, if she doesn't get to have a future then neither does he. For the most part, he's completely unaware of her identity and it's not going to be pretty on either end when he finally finds out.

She's understandably far less experiences than any member of the Batfamily when it comes to vigilante work. Her fighting ability mostly consists of two years of kickboxing training she signed up for in order to take her aggression out on something. In addition to her kickboxing ability, she eventually starts using a chain as her main weapon, starting out with having it wrapping around her knuckles and then eventually learning out to wield it as a whip.

She's more of a one-on-one stealth fighter if anything else, mostly relying on scaring people when she has to deal with groups in order to get them on their own.

Much like her adopted father, her main weapon is her ability to frighten people. She tends to go for unnatural movements in a fight in order to stay as unpredictable as possible, often times switching from normal bipedal movement to suddenly lunging on all fours. Most of her tools are centered around this idea, with her utilizing things such as smoke bombs and even firecrackers to keep people on their toes. Much like Shivers Jonathan, she also likes to freak people out by Blixa Bargeld screaming.

Unlike the Batfamily, she's on a tight budget and she knows it. All of her tools are things she can reliably find without too much suspicion, with her most valuable items being bought from military surplus stores.

Clarice also uses her costume to more safely stim, since she has a fairly large amount of unsafe stims. The wig on her mask allows her to safely yank on hair without pulling out chunks of her actual hair and she often uses the claws on her gloves to scratch at her suit instead of her skin.

For very understandable reasons, Batman is absolutely opposed to her operating as a vigilante, which causes a very unstable relationship with the rest of the Batfamily. Bruce views her as being an unstable viability that cares more about hurting people than saving lives, which isn't exactly untrue. Clarice already doesn't view Batman in a favorable light, with her being unable to separate him from one of the most traumatic experiences in her life. Most of the others view her as being in over her head, with Barbara suspecting her of having a death wish (also not untrue). The only one who finally manages to reach out to her, however, is Stephanie.

Clarice was designed to be Stephanie's character foil, with them both being the children of supervillains who wanted to get back at their parent but taking very different approaches to life. Clarice is a pessimistic mess of a person who has trouble seeing the good in others, while Stephanie refuses to let people drag her down and sees the humanity in others. Steph looks at Clarice and sees so much of herself as Spoiler in her, and eventually manages to reach out to her so she doesn't make the same mistakes she did as Spoiler. Though she never really gets close to most members of the Batfamily, Clarice eventually does regard Stephanie as her closest friend.

#shiversverse #oc: clarice keeny #jonathan crane #batman oc #my art #suicide tw #child abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #self harm tw #side note: jonathan crane is still not a good father #he genuinely loves clarice and treated her better than her biological father but he still quite literally kept people in their basement

[allthecanadianpolitics]

An Alberta man convicted of assaulting his wife remains employed as a sheriff after receiving a suspended sentence and a probation order. On Monday, Justice Donna Valgardson of the Alberta Court of Justice handed Chad Exner a suspended sentence with 18 months of probation. A suspended sentence means the person will have a criminal record, but that they will serve a probationary period rather than going to jail as long as they meet any court-ordered conditions.  Exner was convicted in January of assaulting his then-wife Jaime McKenzie in October 2020, court documents show. McKenzie said Friday she is satisfied with the sentence. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada, @abpoli

#cdnpoli #Alberta #domestic abuse tw #police

[mysharona1987]

The most pathetic reply ever.

#republicans #herschel walker #democrats #politics #domestic abuse tw #georgia #Gop #twitter

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@vocesofmd 's Frenchie decided to kiss Izzy, based on this here.

Past hour or so had been a blur. Ed wanted to raid a ship merely hours after the last one. The crew wouldn't make it, they were all exhausted, it made sense that they protested. He could have pushed more, he could have told them that they have no option. They were right, but Ed wouldn't see it that way. He was about to go to his cabin to tell him that he forgot to give the order and now they missed their chance, but Ed came out on his own. The next thing Izzy knew was being in his room, pressing a cold cloth at the side of his head.

❝You can't be here.❞ Izzy murmured when Frenchie sat next to him, when he helped him to hold that cloth in place. He could have pushed him away. He should have. But he didn't want to stay alone. He couldn't be alone with his thoughts. The young man somehow, surprisingly always provided him some sort of comfort and fuck Izzy needed it at the moment. ❝You can't...❞ he whispered, but he didn't move away when the other man leaned in. He even found himself kissing him back. No, he couldn't be doing this. Izzy pulled away, and shook his head. Did he pity him? Did the crew either pity him, thinking he is completely incompetent or did they hate him? ❝Why are you here?❞

#vocesofmd #vocesofmd (frenchie) #muse (izzy) #domestic abuse tw #(I hope this is okay! let me know if you want me to change the details or anything)

[pettyprompts]

“Everyone I’ve ever loved like that has left scars on my body. I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

#writing prompt #prompt #writing #dialogue prompt #mine #writing prompts #prompts #dialogue prompts #writing inspiration #story starter #i guess this could be a #domestic abuse tw #but it was not written in that context

[rn-zane]

TIMING: current SETTING: some club™ PARTIES: @loftylockjaw + @rn-zane + Leo the shithead fae (Bex) WARNINGS: domestic abuse mention SUMMARY: wyatt and zane make an honest attempt to help felix get out of their deal at the grit pit

At the end of the day, Felix, like Lockjaw and every other fighter who signed a contract, belonged to the Grit Pit.

A couple weeks of tailing this clown and Wyatt was itching to get to business. Whether or not Zane was picking up on his impatience, the lamia had talked him into confronting Leo tonight. They knew his haunts, so they knew where to wait. It wasn’t a long wait, either, the fae entering the club damn near exactly on time. Wyatt clenched his jaw as he locked eyes with Leo, lifting a hand and waving him over to their spot on the bar. They’d met one another in passing, never really sharing a conversation of any kind of substance, but Leo was certainly aware of Wyatt’s status as a Pit fighter. His knowledge of Wyatt’s fondness for Felix was unknown though, as the pair had thus far kept things pretty well on the down low. No reason to go inspiring the head honchos to make them fight one another, which was the most likely outcome of a more public friendship.

His hope here was that they’d be able to offer Leo something he wanted in exchange for the termination of Felix’s contract. But if it really came down to it, the lamia couldn’t promise anyone that he wouldn’t just try to bite the fucker’s head off, even in front of all these people. He wasn’t sure if Zane knew that, probably not, and that was probably a surprise best kept secret until it was time to pull it out. If. If it was time. Hopefully that time wouldn’t come. He did have something of a temper, though…

—

The waiting and surveying part had been fine. Wyatt was decent company and at least just by tailing someone, there was no way they would get Felix into trouble. Tonight, whether due to unrelated impatience or the fact that Zane had a really hard time not filling the silence out on their patrols, they’d left the safety of just watching. Zane had no idea how obvious it was that this was not his scene, surrounded by loud music and drunk people, muttering apologies to anyone who’d bumped into him on the way inside. At least it was public, less risk of a big blowout. 

His stomach lurched as he spotted Leo, smug looking and insufferable, his skin burning with equal parts anger and nerves. A part of him hoped the guy didn’t remember their last meeting, where Zane had seriously considered punching the man’s lights out, but there was no going back now. Besides, Wyatt would be doing most of the talking, a unanimous decision. Zane was bound to ramble out the wrong thing or start attempting to appeal to Leo’s humanity. Whether or not he had one was debatable. 

“Here goes nothing,” he breathed, glancing over at Wyatt looking cool as a cucumber. Zane reminded himself to ease the grip on his bottle of beer, still full but with the label all but peeled off. A prop but one that he was getting more and more tempted to take a sip from the closer Leo got to their table. 

—

It was hard work, doing what he did at the Grit Pit. The word binds were hard enough, but at least they were usually one-time things. You got someone bound once, with the right turn of phrase, and that was really all it took. Most of them were completely unaware until it was too late. That part was a little fun, really. But the wrangling part took a lot more effort than Leo tended to enjoy. After a long night of working his ass off maintaining a bunch of sniveling, dull, idiot fighters, he figured he’d earned a chance to blow off some steam. A little clubbing and bar-hopping was just the dessert he needed after a nice meal of euphoria from the crowd at the Pit, with the added bonus of being a fair bit more relaxing. 

At least, in theory. Not so much in practice when he glanced up to catch sight of one of his fighters beckoning him over. Leo rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat for a moment before relenting and hopping out of it. He might as well see what the fighter wanted, right? It wasn’t the worst case scenario, really; Wyatt wasn’t one of the whiny ones, at least. But the guy with him…

“I know you,” Leo raised his brow as he approached. “You’re the guy I caught with Felix in the boiler room. On to bigger and better things here?” He let his gaze slide lazily over to Wyatt, smirking a little. “Probably a step up. I can’t speak for Lockjaw here, but Fe gets a little tiresome after a while. So needy. It’s a bore.” He let his eyes lock with Wyatt’s, head tilting to the side slightly. “What do you need? I don’t really fraternize after hours, you know. Unless you’re buying me a drink. I can give you a hell of a night, if you’re nice.” He looked back to the other man with a wink. “That goes for the both of you.”

—

Leo's reaction to them wasn't wholly unexpected as far as Wyatt was concerned. Even the casual offer of having a little fun together didn't change his expression, which had settled somewhere between light amusement and genuine interest. He'd gotten pretty good at making people think he cared about what they had to say, even though their words were, more often than not, emptier than his own. In this case, he was doing all he could to mask the flare of indignation in his gut at Leo's less-than-kind comment about Felix. It wouldn't do to show his hand, not yet. So he just smiled through it, allowing Leo to lead, prepared to go along with whatever options he offered up to them that might make him more pliable. If Wyatt himself was that option, so be it. 

“What'll you have, then?” He got the fae's preferred drink and made short work of securing one from the nearby bar, taking Leo with him to keep Zane from blowing their cover by having to spend a few minutes with the fae alone. As they made their way back to the table, Wyatt gestured to the seat beside his own. “Please, take a load off.” Once they were all comfortable, the lamia took a careful dip into the topic at hand: Felix. Brought up by Leo himself, so it was less strange now to return to it. Lucky, that. Lucky that Zane had been caught doing something with them in the… boiler room, was it? “Must be frustrating havin’ someone like that under your jurisdiction,” he remarked casually, resisting the urge to glance at Zane and silently signal for him to be chill. “Felix, I mean. My own handler, well… let's just say she's quite pleased with my performance.” He smirked, as if to indicate that he wasn't morally opposed to sleeping with the people who held his life in their hands. It might gain him a little more trust in this situation. “And it's not like I want to leave… hell, I don't know what else I'd do with myself if not for this.” He paused, letting that marinate for a moment. “Been tryin’ to convince my friend here of the merits of the job.” Wyatt did look at Zane now, wearing a confident smile. If Leo knew Zane, if he knew that the vampire and Felix were… something like friends, then his presence needed to be padded. Lies needed to help make this encounter an easier pill to swallow. If Leo suspected them too soon, then they'd be blowing their one chance of schmoozing Felix out of their deal. 

—

This was a bad idea. Wyatt should have done this on his own because there was no way Zane could keep his cool throughout this whole evening, that much became evident the second the smarmy bastard opened his mouth. Fingernails dug deep into his palm and he huffed out something that maybe could have been construed as a sound of amusement. Tense as it was, Zane did manage the smallest of smiles, even as his blood ran cold at what Leo was suggesting. Maybe some acting classes should be his next priority. Since showing any interest in the offer was off the table, even in a fake way, Zane honestly muttered out a “you’re not my type.” Wyatt could take care of the charming part of this evening. 

The second Wyatt led the fae away, Zane deflated, focusing on the angry crescent marks in his palm to gather his thoughts. He dug desperately around for the manufactured sense of calm he could conjure up at work, treating people like Leo, drunk drivers or any other sort of scum of the earth. Tried to remember why playing nice was so important. Even though remembering Felix’s face that night at The Grit Pit spurred more anger, it was of the righteous kind, the kind that inspired focus and determination. So by the time the two men returned back to the table, Zane’s teeth were no longer under threat from breaking by the tension in his jaw. 

And Wyatt was good. If he didn’t know any better, Zane would have truly believed the disdain for Felix painted with those words. Zane’s focus stayed on Wyatt as he spoke, safer than risking another suggestive look from the fae that would all but break his current focus. Nodding along as he was dragged back into the conversation, Zane shrugged, fingers itching with the need to peel more of the beer bottle’s label so he took a disgusting drink from it instead. “Wyatt can be very insistent,” he explained, quirking one eyebrow at the man in question. As if this was a friendly discussion they’d had from time to time, amusing but annoying. “Told me Felix liked to exaggerate, that their explanation of how the place actually works is a bit… dramatic.” Zane steeled himself before he continued, the lie not as effortless as Wyatt’s but hopefully convincing all the same. “They did seem a bit… neurotic.”

He forced down another drink of the beer, the taste preferable to the lingering disgust of those words. 

—

While Lockjaw seemed comfortable enough with the situation, his companion was clearly uneasy. Leo zeroed in on the discomfort, tilting his head and raising his brows as the man — Zane, wasn’t it? — claimed that Leo wasn’t his type. “Mmmm, you prefer the bumbling idiot type? Explains why you were getting so cozy with Fe, at least.” There was an uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Felix genuinely moving on with someone new. Not jealousy, not exactly. It was more of a… possessive thing. Leo didn’t like to see someone new playing with his toys, even when he was finished with them.

But it wouldn’t last, anyway. He reminded himself of that. At the end of the day, Felix, like Lockjaw and every other fighter who signed a contract, belonged to the Grit Pit. So, Leo let Lockjaw buy him a drink. He ordered something expensive and top shelf, just to push the boundaries a little. He smiled as the lamia spoke, shrugging a shoulder. “Honestly, between you and me? I like it more when they’re not happy with it. Knowing they don’t want to be there and can’t go… It adds a new layer of fun to it all. And Felix…” Leo trailed off, clicking his tongue. “All the shit I put up with when we were an item? I deserve a little extra fun for all that.” 

His eyes slid over to Zane at the implication that he, too, might be interested in joining the Pit. Now there was an idea. The concept of having Felix go up against someone they liked enough to risk talking to in the back halls of the Pit was an enjoyable one, and Leo’s eyes danced with quiet excitement. “Yeah, well, Fe likes to whine. Always has, really. Part of what made it so hard to put up with them.” His mouth twisted into a smile with a few too many teeth as Zane went on, calling Felix neurotic. Leo barked out a laugh. He’d tell Felix all about it later, he thought; recount the conversation back to them, make sure they knew it was true. It was fun to add some variety to the ways in which he fucked with the guy, at least. “You’ve got that right. Try living with them. They’re lucky all I did at the end of it was sign them up at the Pit. I mean, I could’ve done worse, you know? And this way, they get paid. It’s not like they had any other career prospects. No high school diploma, no social skills… They’d be living in a tent if I didn’t have their back, you know? They bitch about it, but I really did do them a favor.”

—

Good cop, bad cop. As planned, or at least as close to a plan as they could muster. Though interestingly, from the eyes of Leo, Zane was likely the bad cop in this scenario. Unhappy with the way the Pit was run, making friends with the discontented fighters, denying the faun’s advances… Wyatt, on the other hand? Wyatt would say anything to gain favor, here. Because with favor came trust, and with trust came the opportunity to make a person more receptive to your requests. Let Felix out of his contract, the lamia thought, take this other nameless fighter instead. There’s less baggage, and they’re a bastard already, so no one is going to take pity on them and try to stage a coup on their behalf. It was something of a threat, when you got down to it. But, given time, hopefully it would prove fruitful. 

So Wyatt laughed and nodded, giving the handler a shrug of his broad shoulders. “True, true… I can understand that. I like fightin’ the ones that don’t wanna be there more than the rest, because they fight more desperately, you know? They know what’s comin’ and they’re afraid of it. Feels like huntin’, in a way. But you’re right, Felix owes you a lot. They wouldn’t fare well bein’ homeless, that much is certain. Me, I got the luxury of doin’ this for pleasure, but…” He gave it a good, long, overstated think, smiling all the while. “I know there’s those fellas that go out n’ capture the beasties, but what of the bonafide fighters, like me? I got a keen eye for folks like Felix… folks that can fight, but don’t want to.” He glanced now at Zane, and his intentions were suddenly made quite clear. False that they were, this was part of the plan. “I could bring ‘em to you, if you like. Offer you up some more of that dynamic you got such a sweet taste for.”

—

Biting back a retort that his type was pretty much anything except sociopathic sadists was hard, so Zane settled for a roll of his eyes and another drink. Better to say too little than too much. His skin was crawling, squirming, underneath that slimy gaze, the callous words. It didn’t much matter whether Leo was sizing him up as a possible fighter, to fight him himself or for other reasons, Zane was having a hard time sitting still - desperately quieting the scratching in the back of his mind that hinted at just how nice Leo’s blood would taste, how much the fae deserved it. On the bright side, aggressively shoving back those thoughts was a good distraction from the disgusting tirade about Felix. 

Wyatt, to his credit, continued to be completely unphased. It was convincing, almost too much so, how he spoke about his fights. Zane pushed those thoughts away along with the rest, grasping desperately at the bigger picture. He was here to help. That smooth gaze turned to him and Zane leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. They were finally getting somewhere other than simply trash talking Felix. Plus, this new setting that Wyatt was proposing (a heads up would have been appreciated, though) did provide a decent cover for Zane’s barely concealed grim mood. Even if it all felt just a bit too real. 

“And here I thought you just really wanted to buy me a drink,” Zane muttered, settling into this new role, impatiently waiting for Wyatt to string the bait. Praying that Leo would take it. 

—

Leo’s smile could hardly be described as anything short of predatory. His eyes looked Zane over like someone appraising a dog for a fight — an apt metaphor, considering the way the faun tended to think of the fighters under his ‘care.’ The guy looked tough enough. Good muscles, probably knew his way around a punch. But Leo had been in this game long enough to know that there was always a catch. Even someone like Lockjaw, who was happy to ask how high any time someone told him to jump, wouldn’t give something for nothing.

Leaning back in his seat, Leo took a long, thoughtful swig from his drink. “And what’s in it for you?” He questioned, looking back to Lockjaw with the slightest tilt to his head. “You want to make a trade? I get the fighters you bring in, you get… someone else released from their contract? I know you don’t want out of yours.” That was how the Pit tended to work. For most fighters, Leo would have done it without question. But… given the nature of the conversation, he had a feeling he could guess who Lockjaw wanted to spring. And there was no part of Leo that wanted to see Felix walk away free. It would feel like such a waste. He’d put years of effort into that useless cat. He had no desire to see them win. He’d sooner see them put down. 

“I’m not sure this is something that would benefit the both of us,” he hummed. “Especially not if I don’t understand why you want it. I know you’re not sleeping with them. They don’t put out enough to be worth this kind of effort.” 

—

Oh, how his hopes had soared for those few seconds that Leo talked himself through his understanding of the situation at hand. Yes, yes, it’d gone perfectly, and—no. He was saying that it wasn’t enough. Asking questions that Wyatt didn’t want to give the answers to. It pissed him off that he’d come so close to having this fucking thing resolved, only to watch Leo tug the fishing line and reel the bait back. He felt his patience run out. Irritation sparked and bloomed into a burning flame of anger, and the indulgent smile dropped from his face. 

“I wanted to be nice about it,” he said, shaking his head. “I wanted to make you feel good, wanted to keep from havin’ to say anythin’ that might upset you.” He paused, picking up his drink to take another long sip of it. “But the truth of the matter is, that wet cat is pathetic.” His gaze had hardened, brows furrowing as a general look of distaste arranged itself on his features. “And puttin’ somethin’ like that in the ring… I don’t got my panties in a bunch over the morality of it, Leo. But it’s a bad look. The people that come to the Pit don’t want to see their favorite fighters gettin’ all fuckin’ weepy before and after every scrap. And in case you ain’t noticed, since you got so many other better things to be doin’, Felix cries more than a spoiled brat givin’ her toys away to charity. That might do it for you, but it don’t do it for the rest of us. We’re sick of it. There’s the one-shot fighters that don’t wanna be there, that panic and fight tooth n’ nail… and then there’s Felix. Still ain’t dead, still ain’t grown a spine. I’m tryin’ to cut you a deal, here. Let you save face, get you some better names under your belt. So take it.” He paused, the silence between them heavy. “Take it.” Or else was the unspoken addendum to that command, present only in the extreme tension that had settled over the table.

—

And there it was. Whatever sliver of interest that had previously shone on Leo’s slimy face was gone, the smugness replacing it so naturally. Maybe Zane had been spending too much time with Emilio because he really, really wanted to hit him. He didn’t, letting nails dig into his palms once more, ready to leave. Wyatt had done plenty of schmoozing but it wasn’t taking - Leo was too insufferable, too possessive. They’d have to figure out another way to help Felix. 

Zane turned his gaze to Wyatt, surprised to see the anger he felt mirrored back tenfold on the shifter’s face. Oh, boy. He was going on a tangent, spitting out words as a last resort and Zane was finding it really hard to keep his face neutral, keep his eyebrows from furrowing with worry. This was Wyatt’s third little surprise of the evening and Zane wasn’t sure he could handle another. Take it. Swallowing thickly, Zane placed a hand on the shifter’s forearm, giving a squeeze. “Let’s just go,” he said, wanting to plead with the man but refusing to do so in front of the fae. He didn’t care if this wasn’t part of Wyatt’s plan, whatever that even was at this point - the tension between the other two was electric and Zane didn’t want to wait around for it to blow. “Wyatt.”

—

Ah, here it was. Lockjaw’s true colors, shining through like a spotlight. Some part of Leo couldn’t help but find amusement in the tirade, a slow grin stretching across his face. Everything Lockjaw said was the truth. Felix was pathetic, was a wet cat who couldn’t handle what the Grit Pit stood for, what it did. But Lockjaw wasn’t right about everything. He thought he was smart — that much was clear — but there were a few things Leo figured he didn’t have straight quite yet.

“The thing is, Wyatt,” he used Lockjaw’s human name, eyes darting over to the man with him with an amused glint; he’d known it before, on some level, but it wasn’t something he’d bothered committing to memory. Had Zane not said it, Leo wouldn’t have been able to pull it from memory in the moment. But it was so much funnier this way. “The thing is,” he said again, “you’re wrong about that. Some people, sure, they get uncomfortable seeing somebody in the ring who doesn’t want to be there. But some people? They live for that shit. See, most people who visit our little establishment don’t have a lot of power in their day to day lives. They’re human, they’re weak. So they see somebody like Felix, with the big claws and the sharp teeth, doing shit they don’t want to do just to amuse them? Well, that makes them feel good. Which makes me feel good. Ought to make you feel good, too, with the money we put in your pockets.” With a smug smile, Leo laced his fingers together behind his head. “Anyway, I don’t give a shit about ‘better names’ or ‘better fighters.’ That little shit wasted years of my life, you know. Dragging me down, making me miserable… I don’t really care how the fights go. I just like to see them half as miserable as they made me. Fuck knows they deserve it.”

—

Fuck it. Fuck it, Wyatt thought. This charade had gone on long enough. He pulled his arm away from Zane, extending it quickly to grip Leo by the collar. “You did that to yourself!” he shouted furiously, pushing Leo out of his chair and following quickly after, not releasing his hold. “You could have walked away at any fuckin’ time, but you didn’t! No one feels more sorry for you than you do for yourself, you stupid piece of shit.” The people nearest them reeled back from the sudden outburst, giving the pair a wide berth as they scrambled up from their seats. “I’m not lettin’ it go,” he ground out, directing it vaguely in Zane’s direction, though his gaze remained fixed on the fae in his grasp. “You let them go. Let them go! Or God as my witness I will rip out those fuckin’ intestines of yours and make you real fine noose out of ‘em.” 

—-

Shit. Zane should have gripped Wyatt’s arm tighter, should have dragged him out the second Leo lost interest. Instead, eyes were turning and angry hands were wrapped up in the fae’s collar. The chair almost toppled over as Zane stood, no longer caring to hide his discomfort with the situation. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Why had he let himself ignore the way Wyatt had impaled a stranger when he could have just as easily knocked him out? He’d wanted to believe that a part of the shifter was sensible but even more so, even more desperately, had wanted it to be possible to save Felix. 

“Stop,” Zane hissed, grabbing the crook of Wyatt’s elbow, not bothering with being gentle this time. “I know he’s a piece of shit but this isn’t going to help anyone.” He was definitely pleading at this point, even if the words were laced with anger. Wyatt had purposefully let him believe things weren’t going to end this way, that they wouldn’t do anything that might put Felix in danger. “Let’s leave or I’ll make you.” The threat sounded strange coming from his mouth but it was made to prevent harm, not cause it. Zane knew he could drag the shifter out if need be, as long as he stayed like this. Oh, how he hoped they weren’t about to be graced by the presence of Wyatt’s other form. 

—

A hand wrapped around his collar, a weight forced him to the ground. Despite working in a fighting ring, Leo wasn’t much of an action guy. He preferred to use his words rather than his fists, was good with them. Lockjaw attacking him hadn’t been something he’d accounted for. Maybe he should have known better. Some people were into the whole ‘pathetic wet cat’ thing Felix had going on. It was a little surprising that they’d managed to snag Lockjaw’s attention with it, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. Leo swallowed, looking up at the angry shifter. “If you kill me,” he said lowly, “you kill any chance they ever have at getting out. That contract won’t end with me. But any chance of release will.”

His eyes darted back to Lockjaw’s friend, hovering nervously behind them both. “If you take him now, I’ll let you leave without any consequences for the two of you,” he promised, careful with his words. “You can walk out, but only if you go now. Otherwise…” He trailed off, tilting his head to the side. “The Grit Pit has plenty of ways of twisting your contract around, Wyatt. I’d hate to see them ruin all your fun. You enjoy the fighting, don’t you? We can make it so that you don’t. Twist it so you lose every time. It’s all right there in the fine print. You don’t need both your arms to be useful to us. Or the tail, or the eyes. I’d be very careful how you use your words.”

—

Wyatt was ready to turn on Zane if he had to, the strong grip on his arm igniting an instinct that was especially hard to control when he was this sleep deprived and this angry. Let’s leave or I’ll make you. He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, wanting nothing more than to strangle the life out of the smug bastard in his other hand, but then that bastard was talking again, and the things he was saying put something of a damper on the lamia’s temper. Killing him wouldn’t break the contract? What kind of fuckin’ shit was that? He’d been ready to deal with the consequences for killing a handler, but not if it would amount to nothing. 

The threat wasn’t veiled by any definition of the term, and Wyatt felt his resolve breaking. The cogs in his head were turning, weighing the pros and cons of beating Leo to a pulp right here and now. Pros: he’d feel better. Cons: … everything else. A miserable future for him and Felix both. 

“They don’t know,” he finally said, releasing Leo’s shirt. “They don’t know we’re here.” Leo’s words were rattling around in his head and he couldn’t get past the phrasing the fae had used. Without any consequences for the two of you. “They didn’t ask me to—” Zane was dragging him back, probably anxious to just get them both the hell out of there. “They didn’t ask!” He was frantic for the stupid motherfucker to understand that, but there was a deep rooted fear in his heart that Leo wouldn’t care. Goddamnit. Goddamnit. 

Once they were outside, Wyatt kicked the first thing he saw that wasn’t bolted to the ground, sending the trash can (that had been bolted, but evidently not very well) clattering into the street. Another string of curses spilled from him and he paced on the spot for a few seconds before wheeling around and making for the door to go back inside. “I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

—

Leo was… terrifying. He wasn’t just mean or conceited or a bit sadistic - he was cruel. The two of them should have talked to Felix beforehand, should have let them make the case that this really was a bad idea. Zane had half a mind to let Wyatt go, make this bastard pay but it would only sour an already awful situation. And then the shifter relented and Zane didn’t hesitate, forcing the man towards the door even if the desperation in his voice was horrifying. Felix hadn’t asked for this and now a couple of dumbasses had most likely screwed everything up for them. With one last withering glare in Leo’s direction, he finally managed to shove the ball of fury outside. 

Zane deflated while he watched the other man rampage, wincing slightly as the trash can clanged against the street. Anxiety was fully rolling through every cell with a nice accompaniment of guilt. What had they just done? Wyatt gave no warning before rushing at the door - he was angrier but Zane was faster. 

“Stop it!” Shoving the other back, standing his ground in front of the door, Zane glared down at the shifter. “We’ve made enough of a mess. Going back in now is only going to get you in more shit on top of whatever… whatever’s going to happen with Felix now. So back off, kick another trash can or something. You’re not going back in there.”

—

Wyatt let himself be stopped, not really wanting to hurt Zane, who hadn’t done anything wrong except listen to a shit-for-brains shifter who knew too little about the world to make any kind of good decisions. He stood there in front of him, jaw clenched as tight as it could be and trembling from the rage that coursed through him, threatening another unintended shift. His gaze wasn’t on the vampire though, it was laser focused through the door on the spot where he knew he had left Leo to pick himself up off the ground. 

“He can’t—Felix is never gonna get out of that place as long as he’s alive,” he argued. “Fuck, the contract might default to someone else, but they wouldn’t have an emotional investment, right? They might let Felix go if I—if I gave them somethin’ better—” He still didn’t really understand how it all worked, and he was grasping at straws. The only thing he knew for certain was that it was going to take every ounce of mental fortitude he had (which wasn’t very much these days) to keep from devouring the handler on sight. Frustrated and with no place else to channel it, Wyatt finally let his gaze lock with Zane’s. 

“... I’m goin’ to the Pit,” he announced, turning and walking away. The last time they’d met outside a bar, he’d complained that it was too far to walk. Now he didn’t care. Now maybe the walk would do him good, and by the time he got to the Pit, he wouldn’t still be ready to rip apart whatever poor creature they put in front of him. It was his night off, but he’d work for free this time. He needed to destroy something. 

#writing #loftylockjaw #thread:wyatt #wyatt.002 #domestic abuse tw