#my gosh so many tws

[apersonwholikeslotus]

Accidents happen, don't they?

Characters: Wales, England, Scotland, Ireland

Warnings: Talk of xenophobia, colonization, arson, and intrusive thoughts

Notes: I'm ok i promise, i very rarely write truly unhinged stuff and this really isn't that bad. It is all under a cut for a reason though, and i am only posting it for @the-heaminator. I wrote this forever ago, and i don't feel like editing it so whatever it is, it is.

Dylan's life had been hell since the Romans showed up.

It had gotten marginally better, then worse, so much worse. The damn Germanic tribes that showed up were worse than the Romans, they didn't just want to conquer the area they wanted everyone else gone. They wanted everything for themselves. The anger he felt at being called a stranger on his own land was worse than anything else, everyone he knew was gone 'England' taking their place. The first time he met William he thought maybe they could work things out, maybe they could agree to leave each other alone. That couldn't happen either though could it? The Englishman was no better than the tribes that had come, he was the same, he was worse. And he was proud of being worse, he took Wales, then Scotland, and Ireland. He took a third of the world, disposing of anyone who got in his way.

Dylan eventually decided he had to agree with William or get out of his way, agreeing and at least being seen, even if it was barely, was better then being pushed off to the side completely. That's not how it worked though? Even if you did everything in your power to corporate, he still treated you like trash. The flag of the United Kingdom, England, Scotland and Northern Ireland. No Wales in sight.

Dylan remembered Angus leaving back in 1607, he couldn't deal with William anymore. He went to Jamestown, Dylan had wanted to leave but both of them couldn't go. 'Go Angus, I'll be fine' Why did he tell him to go? Dylan questioned everyday why he didn't instead.

Then one day James Cook was leaving, Dylan didn't tell anyone. He didn't utter a word to a soul, he left a note. Hidden enough that it wouldn't be found immediately, clear enough that someone would find it in a few days. He sailed around the world for three years; he felt the most free he had been in over a thousand years. No one could find him, especially William. When the time came that he had to go home, he didn't want to. Three years, everyone on the voyage was exhausted and homesick. Dylan wanted to stay out there, he wanted to keep sailing and never have to return to London; never have to return to the beck and call of England. He seriously considered hopping off at a random port, far away from Europe. If he hid well enough it would take decades for anyone to find him, the empire was expanding though. The crown would find him eventually, and the punishment would not be something that made it worth it.

Angus had gotten too close to Alfred, enough that the small boy called him dad, William found a way to have him locked up for seven years. Seven years because a colony called someone besides England dad. Seven years in prison, on top of being suddenly separated from... from his own child, then the Darien Scheme failing: Angus hadn't always been an alcoholic. Don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise. Dylan didn't want to imagine what decades of disappearing would be punished with, if a three letter word from a toddler meant that much.

Three years was bad enough, he got back to a scolding from someone half his age. Then the King was mad at him, Dylan swore this many people had never even paid attention to him before. William was snappier at him after all of that, he never gave him a break. Said he had to make up for galavanting across the world instead of tending to his duties as an independent nation. Dylan had to stop himself from laughing in his half-brother's face; Wales? An independent nation? Why had no one informed him that he was one?

"You're lucky, Dylan"

He could hear Molly's voice in his head. She had told him that during the great hunger, she had shown up in London solely because Angus had promised to lend her some money so she could go to the US to stay with their nephew until things got better–if they even did–. Why? He had thought to himself, because he wasn't currently starving? Because he wasn't having to flee his home? He wasn't living in his own land though was he? London wasn't his. He had been mad at her for saying that for far too long.

Dylan knew most people didn't wish for bad things to befall other people, he wasn't even sure where the idea came from. He just knew one night he was sitting in bed, the window was open blowing the curtains a little too close to a candle that sat on a table. The first thought was rational,

"I need to either blow out the candle, or close the window, or the house might burn down"

The second thought, the small voice in the back said

'Or Angus isn't home, he won't be for a long time' Dylan was almost confused himself as to where the thought might be going. 'You could get Fiachra and go on an errand, William is sleeping, if the house happened to catch on fire and he didn't get out in time, what could be done?'

Dylan wanted to say terribly that he didn't consider the thought, he wanted to say that he almost didn't get up to get his shoes and coat. He wanted to say that he wasn't in the doorway, shoes on and coat tucked under his arm; about to go get Fiachra and make something up about a late night grocery store run: before finally realizing he was insane. Half-running across the room and blowing out the candle quickly.

You can't do that. He had to say it to himself over and over and over while putting his shoes and coat back in his closet.

He had to repeat it to himself the next morning when he turned on the stove.

He had to tell it to himself the next week when they lit the fireplace for the first time in the season.

He had to remind himself whenever he lit a cigarette, and stared at the flame on the lighter a little too long.

Something in the back of his mind always said though; "accidents happen? Don't they?" 

and if a candle was forgotten, and William was asleep in his room, Alone in the house, it would be counted as an accident.

Wouldn't it?

#aph wales #hws wales #aph scotland #hws scotland #aph england #hws england #aph ireland #hws ireland #hetalia #british isles siblings #uk bros #tw: arson #tw: intrusive thoughts #tw: alchohol mention #tw: xenophobia #tw: colonialism #my gosh so many tws #apersonwhowrites

[lilybug-02]

Looks like the entire household is together! I wonder where Miss. Toriel is?

Part 25 || First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

A fun continuation! Lots of crazy vibes. Due to school, I'll be taking another month/months hiatus. I should really stop making so many cliffhangers ;P

#tw blood #I hope this new update made you laugh a little haha! I really enjoyed making these pages! I wanted to make some good situational comedy. #So many memes #Azzy is sad that Kris bonked his snoot :( #and chara accidentally almost killed Kris >;) #And Susie is now here :D #I may keep the monotone color palette since it takes so much less time :) and I have learned so much about comic panels and experimentation #this background was such a vibe. OH MY gosh. I can draw backgrounds in less than an hour now! Thanks comic! #I'm really happy how I drew the hands. No gloves or anything. Kris has skinny little arms hehe #deltarune chara timeline #deltarune chara timeline comic #bread #art #deltarune #my art #chara #Asriel #Kris #Susie #deltarune comic #deltarune au #chara timeline #cw blood #tw slight blood #tw cursing #cw cursing #the player #the soul #so many tags #this is a shorter update but its a shorter scene. Lots of action and then transition next time :)

[theloveinc]

I always think it's a little surprising, irritating, endearing, something when big, tough men find solace in being gentle with their daughters.

There's reason to do tough things with them, too, to make sure they grow up strong and independent, but I think of a man like Simon "Ghost" Riley, who spent a huge percentage of his life being beaten down consistently by almost all the men who were around him.

And sure, he trusts the men in his task force with his life now, no question about it, but... I think the sudden calm he experiences when he starts to raise a daughter is beyond strange for him, but also weirdly... healing, too. Enjoyable.

That's not to say he doesn't, and hasn't, enjoyed the boyish things in life, the watching sports, the playing in the dirt, the pretending to hold guns part of growing up... but he finds himself sitting through your daughter's ballet class, overwhelmed by the calm that surrounds him, actually able to focus on the intensity of her pliers, her releves, the way her pink skirt ripples when she leaps into a sauter.

It's a new realization, a new kind of war (between him and learning how to be a parent), but it's one that doesn't revolve around the consistent anxiety that warps his stomach when he watches boys, little or not, teeter the line between roughhousing and fighting, picking on one another for shedding accidental tears that, really, cause no harm.

With your daughter, he's set in charge of watching her play with her friends and finds there is no lump in his stomach when she giggles with them, no dark possibility drifting in the back of his mind that she'll reach out and get her arm broken by someone she trusts--the fights she fights with her peers all between the characters they play and not between their fists, their games of laughter and drama and screaming but not of raging violence.

There's people who ask him, people who joke, wouldn't a man like him prefer a son? He must've been so disappointed... Yet, Simon still has yet to think of the best way to tell them that he honestly enjoys having a daughter a little bit more, that she runs to him and not for a second is he afraid she's hiding a snake up her sleeve, because she's only ever greeted him with flowers.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #my kitten was named simon :( my simon says #now he's named corky LMAO i'm so mad at my aunt for that #but i just imagine ghost being like oh a daughter cool. and then he's like actually raising her and he's like hallelujah thank you jesus LO #'dont u want a boy?' no sir not at all gosh bless :) - ghost probably #anyway then u have a boy anyway and ghost is . p*ssing himself. #next step: convincing him to get a pet #if this is problematic... i sorry #i wanted to say it #its weird how many men have told me they think being a girl seems so much more relaxing and fu .. and i honestly have to be like. it is tbh #caitie posts #ghost #gen #kids tw

[tangledinink]

repostober day whatever today is. anyway, you ever drop acid in the middle of the woods? lol me neither, that'd be CRAZYYYY...

#these are a year old at this point but gosh it was fun #we rented a cabin on a lake #fidgetwing #drug ment #drug ment tw #i drew so many pictures and then i played hatsune miku rhythm game and i KILLED #i had just opened the app to look at the pretty pictures and then my friends like #kept spamming co-op invites at me and so i was like #fuck it ig we ball and i did GREAT i was getting the highest score every round #what a time #ah memories #lol anyway first day of work today--

[thatoneluckybee]

I AM NOT WELL

#OH MY GOSH BOTH OF THEM NEED SO MANY HUGS #SOBBING SCREAMING CRYING. #TW SUICIDE #IN REST OF TAGS I MEAN #oml siren buddy you're killin me #I was like. WORST mental headspace at the time but reading back now that I'm not dramaticly staring out windows #SIREN NO. BABY DONT DO THAT. #SIREN. SIREN PLEASE JUST TALK TO SOMEBODY OKAY???? #Castle swimmer #webtoon #fambles

[cepheusgalaxy]

As much as I love giving characters traumatic backstories there's nothing quite making them go through a very specific traumatic experiences. Like Judy Robinson from Lost In Space, that on ep1 got stuck under ice for 5h straight or Percy Jackson during The Son of Neptune who almost asphyxiated inside a puddle of cursed-ish mud 🤌

#watching lost in space w my dad #and GOSH its so agonizing #but the whump is GOOD #its givimg me so many ideas #whump prompts #tw asphyxiation #lost in space #judy robinson #son of neptune #percy jackson #pjo tag #ish #like #you dont KNOW how much good and tasty whump is in the percy jackson series and franchise #good shit there

[fellhalcyon]

knock, knock, knocking on heaven’s door.

tin + tol, triage, 2022.

#THEM <3 #it's the sacrifice for me #it's the heartbreak oh my GOSH #it's the holding on ;-; #anyways i just think hands are very important #and this particular version of this particular song ;-; #when i heard it the first time i had to go stand alone in a dark room for fifteen minutes because i could simply not cope #i wish i were better at editing vids :( #i would make so many vids for this i would i w #triage the series #triage gifset #triage tin #triage tol #tintol #tin x tol #knockin' on heaven's door #raign #tw blood #if you couldn't tell: i am obsessed! i am confounded! i am captivated!!!

[jungk0oksthighs]

i know nobody asked but here’s a little life update that i really want to share with you all: tw: abuse. tw: sui mention. (non descriptive but this is a low-key sad post, but also not really sad actually the opposite but abuse is a heavy theme)

yesterday i discovered that my abu$!v3 ex boyfriend and his girlfriend of two months split up. just like he did with me, he lied to her, manipulated and love bombed her, gaslit her and shockingly enough: cheated on her too. (i know all in the space of a two months tf) now i’m not gonna be the ex that says “yeah well she knew what he did to me so she should’ve seen it coming-“ like no; he probably didn’t divulge into the details of our relationship and if he did he 100% made me out to be the villain of our story. he’s very good at that. i have nothing but raw sympathy for the girl, i’ve been there, but in a way i’m thankful that she found out now as opposed to later down the line. i wish i had an early escape from him. anyway:

what i wanted to share with you all was the relief i felt, because to me this is further confirmation that i was never the problem. it was nothing i did. he didn’t cheat on me because of me. it wasn’t because i look a certain way or act a certain way. it had nothing to do with me, what he put me through. the lies, the manipulation, the gaslighting, love bombing etc. making me doubt myself and my truth, dampening my dreams and stripping me of every ounce of personality, passion and love that i had.

i don’t want sympathy!! that’s not why i’m posting this!!!! i’m actually in a really good place right now, and knowing that what he put me through isn’t a reflection of me but a reflection of himself is just… there are no words to explain what i’m feeling. it’s like relief mixed with smugness and the way your mouth falls open when you have a eureka moment and there’s a bittersweet ache in my heart too.

ofc all my friends and family told me repeatedly it was never about me and that he’ll do it again and again and again and move from victim to victim, but actually knowing that, having someone say to me: ‘did you hear what happened? he did the same thing to her.’ it’s such a strange feeling. i feel sorry for the girl, i really do. i’ve never interacted with her because even if i did try to ‘warn her’ i would’ve been made out to be the psycho jealous ex girlfriend, honestly some of the shit he says about me… wild. so i didn’t want to get involved with that and i genuinely thought maybe he’s changed in the last 8 months who am i to say he hasn’t? maybe he was only like that with me, because it was me

no, it really wasn’t about me. i wish i could go back in time to january laura who literally wrote a sui note and didn’t eat for fifteen days straight because i was convinced if i looked different maybe he’d still love me. maybe if i dyed my hair, or what if i got my tattoos removed? it’s because i have big hips and thighs isn’t it? maybe i should stop doing makeup and spend more time at home. baby no, january laura no. it was never about the way you look, or because of your hobbies and interests. it was never about you girl. i cried myself to sleep every night for three months because that man fucking broke me. i genuinely didn’t know who i was anymore. and just when i started healing he toyed with me again and said he’d changed, slept with me, told me he still loved me and that he made a mistake, messed my head up only to say two days later: “it’s not what i wanted after all guess i was wrong lol. i’m not even attracted to u never have been dunno why i said i love you cause that’s just a lie.” another two months of agony, self-hatred, tears.

cut to now things have been better, i’m healing slowly and learning how to love myself and rediscover my passions (eyyyy ya girl started writing again hehe). BUT KNOWING FOR A FACT that he’s done it again, to someone who isn’t me. who doesn’t look like me. who doesn’t have my likes and interests, therefore it was never about me, is such a powerful feeling. i cannot put it into words, it’s the closure i thought i’d never get. i’m just??? i’m not happy that he’s tore someone else down, but i’m happy for me. this is what i needed, what january laura needed and i feel so light and free and blessed that i made it this far to have this realisation.

i guess the real reason why i’m writing this, and i don’t really expect any of u to read this but i don’t keep a diary so in a way this is very therapeutic for me to dump my thoughts and emotions here, this post is mostly for myself if anything. but why i’m writing this is just to say… if anyone can relate to my situation (ofc i’ve never gone into heavy detail here that’s what i have a therapist for LOL) but if there’s someone out there with a broken heart, who feels unloveable and doesn’t know anything about themselves anymore: things do get better. hang in there. i know everyone says it everybody said it to me and i was like yeah yeah ok sure, but trust me, as someone who has lived and breathed this life - things do get better.

abusers don’t abuse their victims because they’re their victims.

they abuse their victims because they’re abusers.

#tw: sui mention #tw: abuse #I feel like I my heart is ready to love again now that I know I’m not unloveable #i’m feeling so many things #and I really wanted to get this all off my chest #like #gosh I’m sorry guys I’m just in my feelings tonight and this is like free therapy

[conscious-naivete]

ok what the actual frick. tfc was 63?? that’s not old at all. that’s younger than my aunts and uncles. that’s the same age as my parents. that’s barely old at all.

#GOD you guys. oh my gosh #watching the recap and just had to pause and PROCESS this tahts so much younger than i thought he was #i’m so sorry #he should’ve had so many more years #tinfoilchef #death tw #as if i wasn’t already scared enough about them getting older #vent post

[tittysuckersworld]

not mentaly ok may need to like break on kaveh art after all the stuff reveiled in his story stuffs. not learning anything about voice lines but my gosh.

#yee sry very too personal but with my mom on a heart moniter and like knowing she might not have long left #plus not even knowing if ill be able to go to her funeral. or if shes even gonna get one #idk ive already prossessed as much as can but is still #know his mom dosent die but it still hurts you know? plus plus the parents hurting you but not hating them for it #cause they had such so many reasons #hits too too close to home #hope have at least a month more with mom so stuff dosent affect studdies too too much eiabdhsb #fuck shouldnt vent on tumblr but gosh its idk. ive known for 2 years now she isnt gonna make it to my 20's most likely but still ouch #i shouldnt be crying over this again. she isnt even dead yet dusbduwhe sorry #tw death #in tags still but i be careful lmao-

[apersonwholikeslotus]

I didn’t listen.

#I got 3 posts down and had to exit out to keep myself from a full on anxiety attack #why are women actively participating in the thing I’ve been running from for the past 2 years #the purity culture survivor shit has been laying itself on hard today #Guess who found a new tag to block tho :) #apersonwhotalks #I saw “wear dresses and skirts to show you’re devoted to your husband” #and had so many flashbacks oh my gosh- #tw: purity culture

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

Honestly I still feel so tired and worn out from yesterday. I think my migraine came from stress clenching. I wanted to sit down and read last night but I couldn’t because my mind was running. Even today I feel like the most I’ll be able to do is read fanfiction and sleep.

I guess I’m just worried about the report I put in. Logically I know he did this to himself but I keep thinking oh no have I ruined his career. He spent all that time and money going to University and what if I take all that away from him. Have I just ruined someone’s life. Am I a horrible human being. My OCD is just not handling this well at all I don’t think.

#I just feel like my body is shutting down #but even in an I’m depressed way #just in a too much is happening and I’m feeling so many things and can’t handle it way #I woke up this morning with such a horrible case of depersonalisation oh my gosh #I think it’s really getting to me and I don’t think there is anything I can do other then wait it out #I’m hoping a package comes today so it’ll give me something positive and productive to focus on #tw #trigger warning

[378262]

dreaming of a nose job lmao

#rambling in the tags as usual so. read more w caution girls #but like once again i saw my side profile and i look just like my dad who.. well hes a shitty person who did shitty things #my hair colour is identical too so that just adds to it #but reality is i hate myself because of my nose. ive hated it ever since i was 7 and i always hid behind my long hair #but i *want* to cut it short because its a constant source of dysphoria. i want to look neutral but everyone assumes im a woman #but i can't. i just fucking cannot. i have so many things i hate about my face id go up in flames the second i saw my reflection #and like my nose doesnt have bumps. its just too fucking long and high and well. just like my dads #some days i just want to smash my fucking nose in to maybe change the shape #ive already accepted my fate with the horrible acne scarring covering like 25% of my body but i cannot get over looking like my dad #its just too much and i fucking trigger myself constantly by looking in the mirror and seeing his face staring back #thank gosh i did not inherit his blue eyes. id go insane #but in conclusion i hate my face and i hate my dad. and i hate how i look like him #legit i could afford a nose job if i didnt loan money to everyone in my family (no intention of paying it back) #i think ive given them about ~5000€ in the last years and idk that might cover a nose job but. surprise bitch youre broke #PLUS my nose is so fucking long that it distracts me constantly because i can *see* it 24/7. i dont have to pay attention to it #its just there hindering my vision lmao #to delete #tw #hi if you read this

[scoutswritingcorner]

More Papa Headcanons!

PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader

Angst Flavored~

First Part

TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.

A/N: Enjoy~

I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.) 

Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight. 

But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!

Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing? 

Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it. 

NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-

Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you. 

You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi. 

You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them. 

Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you. 

Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).

During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside. 

Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.

Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #platonic #child reader

[jasmines-library]

Hello sugar <3! (im very sorry if theres any spelling errors, english isnt my first language <3)

I would love to request some angst/comfort with the batfam? Maybe with the reader (tw: sa, rape) struggling with some sexual assault/rape issues, something they haven't told the family yet? The reader acting different for weeks, months even, and the whole family being suspicious and noticing their sudden fear of being cornered, touches and certain smells maybe?

its totally fair if you don't feel like it, I just really really love your way of writing the characters, and your writing over all. I swear, i swallowed your whole page in the matter of a few hours, I loved every second!

Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Note: My gosh im so sorry this literally took me over a month to get to, but it's here. I'm so glad you like my page and thank you for requesting! (Title name from song)

Warnings: SA, r*pe (non explicit but this fic deals with the aftermath. Please read with caution.), Panic attack of sorts.

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Please remember, if you are ever struggling you are not alone. It may be difficult at first but there are many places for you to reach out to, many of which are anonymous and do not need the involement of of name, if you are just needing for someone to talk to. There will always be someone out there to help you. As an alternative, my DM’s are always open for a chat! Remember: You are loved and you are so much stronger than you realise.

⛤

You hadn’t meant to drift away. It sort of just…happened. And it wasn’t even something you were conscious of really. The thoughts were just constantly there and you couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands roaming all over his body; the ghostly touch of his fingers lingering flush against your skin, burning an invisible bruise into your flesh. You tried to shy away from it but it was always there, buried into the front of your mind festering away like an old, unforgotten wound oozing with pus and blood that would only create more problems the longer it was left. 

The night it happened was cold and bitter. A shallow fog had cast itself over the city as you staggered back to the manor with makeup running carelessly down your face. You shut yourself away, turning the lock on your door and burying yourself under the covers to try and  shy away from the situation. But it never left. It just kept growing, weeding its way back through the open cracks like a stubborn plant that refused to leave no matter how many times you doused it with poison. You didn’t sleep that night. And you didn’t leave your room the day after. In fact the only time anyone saw you that day was when you slunk downstairs in the middle of the night to try and revive the growling of your stomach without having to see anyone when you bumped into Tim who was finally dragging himself up to bed. The interaction was odd. At first he thought that you had just been busy all day and that was why no one had seen you: It wasn't uncommon for one of you to disappear into your room for a few days to catch up on school work or to finally get more than 4 hours of sleep. But something about you was off. You were quiet and lacking that charisma that usually shone from you. You were jumpy too, recoiling as soon as Tim rounded the corner unexpectedly. 

When you finally managed to bring yourself out of your room, you were still withdrawn. Instead of donning your normal seat next to Jason at the table, you sat at the end alone pushing your food aimlessly around the plate until someone had finished eating and you took that as a cue to leave. You didn’t mean to leave them in the dark. Really, you didn’t but the thoughts crept into your mind every time they got near. Every hand outstretched sent a shiver crawling down the nape of your neck as if someone was running an ice cold digit along your spine. The thoughts were worse. Intruding. Obnoxious. You felt so…dirty. And your mind seemed to like to make sure you remembered that. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow the whole situation was your fault, which of course it wasn’t, but you were stuck with being guilt ridden; trapped within your walls. 

Your skittishness didn’t go unnoticed. The boys tried many times to talk to you or to get you alone, but each time one of them hastily trailed after you as you slunk out of a room you would pick up your pace until they got the hint and stopped dejectedly in the halls. You had just skittered off into another part of the manor when Damian decided he had finally had enough. 

He pushed his way back into the library rather frustratedly, stomping his feet so hard against the floor that they continued to pound through the room even as he moved from the polished wood to the carpet amongst the centre of the room. His brothers were still lounging around the room, their legs slung carelessly over the arms of the chairs or folded beneath them as they engrossed themselves in their phones or an ever growing pile of books. They barely even acknowledged that Damian had even returned from his pursuit of use, besides lifting their gaze as he huffed his way back into the room. 

“Something is wrong with Y/N.” Damian declared, planting his feet into the carpet in the centre of the room and placing his hands on his hips. 

Dick felt as though he could laugh. Damian’s statement was so obvious that you may as well have had a huge, yellow sign above your head that screamed ‘i’m not okay.’ It didn't matter how much effort you put into trying to hide the bags that dropped across your skin, or the way that you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with any of them for too long without your skin crawling, they were prominent amongst your saddened features. “Yeah, No shit.”he said, looking up from his phone that he had been mindlessly scrolling on to distract himself from the feeling that gnawed at his gut.

The room fell into a pregnant silence before Damians angry scoff broke the silence. 

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He spat. “You’re not worried?”

Jason pushed himself up onto his forearms and spoke out defensively. “Of course we’re worried… It’s just…”

“What?”

“She won’t let us help her, Dami.” Tim said. “We’ve tried, but each time she’s run.”

“Well then try harder!” He said. It was unusual for the youngest Wayne to react this way when it came to his siblings. But, then again it was unusual for you to shy away like this and although Damian would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you and seeing you hurting like this killed him a little inside. 

“Damian.” Dick reprimanded sternly. 

He sighed and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see them suffering like this anymore.”

There was a general agreement between the four of them. Tim chewed away at his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. “What do you propose we do?”

The whole room seemed to think together as one for a moment. 

“We corner them.” Damian said. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop you from slipping away again. “If they keep running there’s no way we’re going to be able to help, so we just have to compromise.”

~

You knew that Jason was behind you. You could hear his careful footsteps, evenly spaced by his long strides as he tried to catch your attention. He was loitering outside of your room, trying to catch you as you left. It surprised you to see him as you peeled open the door. You had flashed him as much of a grin as you could muster up as he greeted you, trying to draw you into a one sided conversation that you were itching to get away from the moment it started. You tried to remind yourself that it was just Jason. That he wasn’t going to hurt you. But your mind still thought it was funny to play cruel tricks on you and soon you were making up a poor excuse and fleeing down the halls. 

You didn’t make it far though before you collided with a tall figure marching down the other end of the corridor, who braced his hands on your shoulders. Yelping at the unexpected contact you spun on your heel to turn back the way you came only for your breath to get stuck in your throat when you were met with the red of Jason’s shirt. When you backed up, you collided with the eldest vigilante again. Spinning around frantically, you searched for a way out. There was none. 

You were trapped. 

The thought consumed you quickly, dragging you down like a ton of bricks tied to your ankles until you were drowning in the thought of being imprisoned again. It was all you could think of. It screamed throughout your mind, pumped in your blood. It was nauseating. You could see the other two approaching and panic set into your already scrambled mind. You weaved, trying desperately to spot an exit but the two vigilantes were much bigger than you and their hefty frames took up most of the corridor. 

“No. No no no.” You rambled as your heart rate skyrocketed and your breathing came in sporadic, panicked gasps. 

Tim furrowed his brow. He didn’t think you would react like this. He reached out to grasp your forearms to ease your shaking body, but you nearly screamed, yanking your arms away from him and backing up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” You stuttered, barely audible between your spiralling state. Fat, hot tears tracked along your face as you sunk to the ground to bury your face within your knees which you clutched to your chest. 

The four boys exchanged an anxious glance. 

“Y/N…”

“Please…” You gasped. “Stay away from me. I-I can’t anymore… no more. Please.”

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Dick queried. “Talk to us, please. We want to help.”

“No…” You whimpered. 

Damian squatted down beside you resting on the balls of his feet before reaching out slowly towards you, ignoring the warning glance that Jason sent his way, and placing it gently on your shoulder. 

Flinching, you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel the way you trembled like a leaf under his touch but he didn’t let go.

“It’s just me Y/N. It’s Dami.”

You registered his words, but you still felt like you were back in that room. You allowed your body to relax just the smallest amount.

“It’s just us, kid. You’re okay.” Dick cooed. 

You sniffled. The four of them were crouched around you now.

“You can trust us.”

Your body tensed as you were hit with reminders of that night. The way he had led you away to commit his act of betrayal that would cut deeper than a thousand knives. 

“That’s what he said.” You hiccuped. 

“Who?” Tim asked tenderly. “Talk to us Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t want to bring up the memory stuck in your mind. 

“Kid… we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“He- he… took me away from the crowds… He said to trust him- and I thought I could. B-but then he-” Your voice split into an unholy sob. 

“Oh..Y/N/N…” Dick said, suddenly understanding. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can still feel him. Hear him. Just make it stop please!.” You begged, sobbing into your hands.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He told you, reaching out gently to place a hand on your forearm, you tensed slightly but didn’t pull away. “We’re not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

“We promise.”

You peeled your head away from your arms to reveal your bloodshot, teary eyes. From close up they could see how clearly the ordeal had taken a toll on you. Not just on your body but your mind too.

It took some convincing and a lot of gentle touches of reassurance to get you off of the floor, but the four of them managed to ease you back into your room. They refused to leave you alone after that. Insisting that at least one of them stay by your side at all times until you decided on your own terms that you were ready to take the next step in your recovery and stay the night alone. It was a slow process, but each small milestone made them extremely proud of you. They were there when you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, crying and shaking, and they were there when you managed to move forwards too.  They were there to remind you that recovery isn’t linear, and that it was okay to move backwards. It’s all part of the process. The four of them showed you a different kind of gentleness that you had never seen before, and they tried their hardest to bring a smile to your face everyday. And it was their kindness that began to wash away those feelings. It was them who made you realise that you were loved, strong and would find your way back from the darkness and into the light.

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