Neglect - Blog Posts

This has been on my mind for several months now.

Is it just me, or if Ninjago was made in live action or showed a little blood, it would be classified as a teen/adult series like Strange Things or Sabrina?

Whumpril Day 5 - Neglect

On ao3

Sponsors were staples of the Star Stream. Nearly every powerful Incarnation had one, sometimes more. They were meant to bestow legendary Stigmas upon their chosen, granting them fantastical abilities to allow them to progress further through the Scenarios.

Shin Yoosung signed that contract with the strange Ahjussi knowing this. She signed it knowing that he may not help her as much as others might, but she had faith he would be worth it.

She did not sign the contract knowing that the man would disappear so soon. She did not sign the contract knowing that the man would never come back.

She felt empty. The memories she had with that man were short, fleeting. It felt she had spent more time with the man dead than she had spent with him alive. She knew this wasn’t true, but his absence was all consuming.

Sponsors were meant to aid those they took on as Incarnations. Even though she was a child, she knew that this was not always true… this man was meant to be different. This man was meant to stay.

[The Constellation ‘Demon King of Salvation’ does not exist]

he would break the world down piece by piece for you, darling

Trigger Warnings: Overdose, cheating, alcohol

“He would do anything for you,” his friend says to him one day. The coffee in front of her had already gone cold, but she still stirs it with an idle hand. “He would hang the moon for you if you asked. I have no doubt.” He laughs, and doesn’t understand. She looks at him through dirty lenses, and her eyes speak a thousand words, a whole galaxy of thoughts swirling in brown eyes and gold rimmed glasses.

“He would.”

And he still doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t understand when his boyfriend follows him like a lost puppy, or when he hugs him tighter than anyone else he knows. He doesn’t understand when the lights go out and he feels a hand trying to grab his own under the covers, or when he sees him cry in the corner sometimes.

He could write a song about the silent, slow, rare tears he saw on those nights. It was the kind that travelled down your face and dripped down your neck, and you didn’t care enough to wipe it away. The kind that you didn’t sob out, but rather let go.

It didn’t really matter to him, though. Saltwater was saltwater, and he didn’t care why it came into existence.

“You should go home,” she tells him one night. “Your boyfriend is probably worried, and it’s late.” The club is pounding, pounding, pounding, the bass creeping into his veins and making his breathing and heart stutter just a little bit. Her glasses are reflecting the neon bar sign, and the glare someone’s camera flashing is caught in her purple hair. He couldn’t care less.

“Another Blue Sunset!” He calls out, with a wild grin on his face. There was no way he was leaving before three.

She glances at him from the side, eyebrows scrunched and eyes unsure. “How are you gonna get home?”

“I’ll call my boyfriend,” he waves it off and grabs his full drink. It was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine.

And that’s what he tells himself.

That’s what he says when he starts to leave with strangers and promises that it won’t happen again. (He doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince his boyfriend or himself.) That’s what he says when he starts to bring a toothbrush and a comb when he goes to the club. (It’s so he can fix his hair and brush his teeth after having a few.) That’s what he says when his boyfriend’s crying became more frequent and more and more resigned.

(He doesn’t know when this became their normal.)

His boyfriend doesn’t really look at him anymore. He sort of looks at him with his eyes to the floor. And he starts to forget which stairs creak in their house and he stops leaving his socks everywhere because he sleeps in a new house every other night. He doesn’t have the time.

(He doesn’t know when his house stopped being his home.)

The sky looks sad today. He looks up and it’s bright and sunny and clouds are few and far apart. He squints. The beams of light make dots in his eyelashes and he stares at them until his neck aches and his eyes burn. It’s a good day.

(He doesn’t know what that is anymore.)

He never understood why his boyfriend cried more often. He never understood why he wanted more. He never understood why his heart was broken. He never understood that maybe he was like this because his heart was never there in the first place, like it was just ripped out, like there was a hole in his chest and every second of every minute it was straining to get it back, straining to exist a little longer, like he was as empty and hollow as a skeleton in a secondary school biology classroom, like he would never understand how to understand.

(And when he was lying on the floor, his actual heart slowing and his boyfriend screaming a terrible broken sound that made his voice shudder and shake like it couldn’t contain whatever it was feeling and kneeling on the floor next to a bottle of pills that no longer rattled, he still didn’t understand.)

Most, if not everyone wants and enjoys relationships with others. For many who grew up being abused at the hands of those who were supposed to love them, however, the need for loving attention is both pathologically desperate, and needed for healing. The saddest part of this aftermath is that victims also often gravitate towards the abusers, who are more than happy to take advantage. The fervent need for the time, love, and respect of someone is even harder to attain for those who have been groomed to believe that neglect is normal, abuse is deserved, and basic decency is generous. In those relationships where a decent partner has been found, the formerly abused party is more likely to take the relationship quite seriously - why would their partner treat them with respect and be present unless they deeply loved them? Heartbreak ensues when their partner leaves, and they discover that, even though this person cared for them to some degree, that basic respect was not love, but simply the default behavior of a decent human being. Where it often ends is at the panic and self-loathing which dovetail with abandonment issues that come come crashing back in. We are worth more than this.

Thought I had major abandonment issues but turns out I was just neglected lol

Hihi ! So I posted Chapter 3 to Lone Warrior and it got content label warning due to some violence in the story so incase you can't find it due to filters or stuff here's the link

CH3

I don't know why it got a label? I mean it's not any nsfw or super gory it has some cursing I presume and blood but I have works where I got gory and it didn't get that label ? I'm not sure but I'm working on it ty again for the support!

Have you read the batfam x invincible or the batfam x pjo crossover type of neglected reader?

-👻anon

Never have but pls Tag me in it - I think it's quiet interesting . I've read pjo x batfam and invisible reader x batfam crossovers but never all 3 together.

Though it's got me thinking - I wanna make a fic with like a hades reader x neglectful batfam - like reader is a cursed like they can't touch anyone because she can literally see their soul or smth or the sort like that and it's very scary especially since reader is young and doesn't understand anything and batfam being neglectful of her ain't realky helpful. That's all I got for the moment - it's just an idea I'm not sure if anyone is interested in it so 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯

For the harry Potter reader.. Just do what the original harry Potter was.. (I don't remember if the original harry Potter was even popular.. Last time I watched harry Potter was when I was still in 8th grade)

- 👻anon

If I recall correctly he was very popular in the sense everyone knew him as the boy who lived but ik alot of other fanfics portrayed him as an outcast because of malfoy's insults /influence in kind of shaming him /bullying him.

I HATE SPIDER LILLES

angst . gore . wip

summary : a lonesome child dies while a neglectful father loses himself to guilt and grief.

My body bleeds black as it eagerly gushes out my chest . The blade glistens in the faint moonlight - it looks so angelic , so beautiful as it lodges itself deeper into my chest . I want to cry - cry out to the world , cry out to everyone , cry out to them . There are so many questions, yet no answers . Why doesn't Daddy love me like he does to everyone else ? Why did my mummy have to leave me behind ? Why did my brothers have to ignore me ? Why does everyone hate me ?

It's unfair - so unfair that I have to die all alone in this cold , bleak night while they are wrapped in Daddy's warm arms - shielded from Gotham unwavering doom. My eyes strain as they stare out into the darkness- hopeful and naive searching for someone to save me from myself . Tears stream begin to stream down my cheeks as it dawns on me that no one was coming , that daddy and older brothers don't want to save me .

" I'm sorry daddy - I'll do better - I'll be better daddy , I'm sorry I disappoint you alot , I'm sorry I'm not strong enough daddy but - I can do it - I can be strong like jayjay - I can be smart like tim papa I promise - just gimme a chance daddy I can be like them - I can be fast like dick and I could be perfect like damian daddy please - please save me daddy please it - it hurts so much please ". I cry out but no one responds to me .

I let out a pathetic cry - was it too much ? Too selfish to plead for my daddy to save me from this cruelness ? Was I too weak ? Too imperfect for his perfect world ? Was I so forgetful , so useless to him that I deserved to die a painful , agonizing death ? Had I wronged my daddy by simply breathing ? Another painful cry leaves my trembling mouth - yet again questions left unanswered .

A spider lily blooms from the inside of my chest - practically weaving itself around the blade . My bloody , swollen hands reach to cup it like a desperate man would for water on a scorching desert. The petals are soft to touch - almost feather like . Is this what mummy's touch was supposed to feel like ? Soft? Warm ? Comforting? Its pungent scent invaded my senses - my body high on its vanilla like scent -

How sick , how cruel can death be ? How can it be so cold , so painful yet so warm and welcoming at the same time ? Was I always doomed to succumb to my own failure? Had my own brother predicted my downfall when he called me a failure and a waste of Wayne resources ?

Was I always doomed to die ? Did God hate me so much that he blessed my brother with a person to mourn him but left me without ? Another question left unanswered . More red spider lilies begin to bloom around me , swallowing me whole and for once - I give in - I embrace it for what does a child whom has experienced nothing from her own family left to embrace ?

I swallow another choked hiccup back - even now when certain death is about to consume me - I still bottle my feelings in fear of burdening others, even monstrous death himself. Spider lillies began to sprout from my own flesh .

Blood coating its red petals - like a wet blanket, its ire iron smell masks the once sweet vanilla scent . The flowers practically tear through my flesh , lovingly discarding my tissue about like confetti. It's painful, mummy , so painful, daddy - please save me - anyone please save me . I'm sorry for being me daddy - I promise to be better - I promise I'll be someone else anyone, Daddy, just make it stop .

My mouth opens to scream, but nothing comes out - nothing but another spider, lily - this time it's pure white . It sways it the wind like an enchanted being , a pure - untouched angel , an ethereal being spreading its soft love for all . The wind proudly ruffles through its prestine petals - a silent kiss of farewell from God , a kiss coaxing them to a far away land promising of a sweet , quiet , painless life. My dull eyes stare back into the abyss , this time, it's glassy , detached - its owner no longer belongs here , in fact they never had .

My eyes slowly closed in on themselves for the last time . Such a slow, pitiful death for a little girl . Left the world all alone and cold with no mummy and daddy to mourn her - no one to cry for her , no one to remember her . Such a sad faith for a little girl .

Bruce stares at name's dead body - guilt eats him alive as before him, his daughter's corpse lays on a plastic cover , cold and unmoving. He can feel bile crawling up his stomach as his mind digests how beyond mauled his daughter body looks .

His poor , innocent daughter lays there , and her once olive tone complexion turned into a sick ghostly pale . His shaky hands reach out towards her, unsure - how shameful is it that this was the first time he's embraced her in ten years ? He embraces her like a lifeline - like a drowning man would to a drifting raft in a vast ocean.

His worn hands traced the black , jaggered blade lodged in her chest - his eyes then dart to the spiraling spider lilly that wraps around it - as if this was some gift . How could such brutality present itself to be beautiful? How can it try to mask to horror of her heart torn into half with faux beauty ? He feels so angry - angry with the world , angry with himself - angry at her because how could she leave him - how dare she leave him in this cruel world with nothing but her cold corpse?

.

He tries to rattle his brain of any fond memories of you both to mourn over and nothing come up - his brain is blank and a delusional part of him wants to blame the fact he's in shock but the little rational part of him left picks at him for the lack of time and love he gave to you.

He wants to desperately go back in time - eight hours ago to stop you and Tim from a bitter argument , to go back and stop Damian from utter harsh words , to go back in time to simply love you like he should of , to go back in time to comfort himself when he got the call from Gordon telling him they found your dead body in an back ally thanks to the neighbors complaining about a disgusting smell.

He desperately wants to go back and fix everything but he knows he can't- what's done is done and now he has to live with the brutality of your death engraved in him forever , live with the reality he's failed you and you won't come back.

He looks down at the red spider lilies that sprout from around and from you - he feels them mocking him - laughing at him because they got to surround you , in your final moments , got to cherish you like a loving family, - got to be with you. Something he can only dream of.

He grips your dead corpse closer , practically encasing you with his entire being . Hot tears flow down his cheek, and he begins mumbling. Sorry, and I love you's, but what good is it talking and apologizing to a corpse when you had the real living thing all your life ? From that moment on - Bruce hates himself for what's happen , blames himself for your death- for your neglect and most of all he's grown to hate spider lilies because he blames them for taking you away from him and his family.

Bruce dislodges the blade from your chest , your inky , black blood coats it like a fountain pen . He grips onto the blade' handle , knuckles going white and strained the more he stares at it . He carefully places it in a plastic container and pockets it immediately - he doesn't trust the GGPD with finding out what happened with you , doesn't trust them handling your corpse with the utmost care and live that you deserved to have .

His face hovers over your open chest , he cringes at the scent of your corpse rottening, and the iron smell of your spilled blood . He rests his face on your wound carefully - scared he hurts you even more than he already did . His cheek collides with your cold flesh and dried blood, and it's there he mourns you over your broken heart - it is here he allows himself to be vulnerable with you - allows himself to shed hot tears . He pulls you in closer , hands embracing you for the first and last time .

He wants to say so many things, but nothing pours out of his mouth . How utterly pathetic , how cruel , how unfair - why , why must even in his last moment with you - he can not express himself , cannot express the fatherly love he feels for you . Angry hot tears cascade down his face - so angry , so blatantly disappointed in himself that he's failed you again and again .

He holds you like that the entire night into the early , wee hours of the mourning until a tired Alfred had to pry him off you.

" Master Bruce, please," Alfred pleads as he holds onto Bruce's crumbling figure . Alfred feels a wave of de ja vulnerable in case he looks at your corpse and back at Bruce - everything is the same way it was the night Martha and Thomas died - just this time Bruce is distraught beyond repair and instead of delicate pearls scattered about , it's your own flesh , blood and spider lillies .

He swallows back as he takes in your corpse - he feels so guilty - he knows he could of done more - knows that he could prevent you from feeling more alone and hurt than you already did but instead of prevention he was the enabler.

" She's gone Alfred - gone - she's not - she's never coming back home." Bruce cries out, pained and strained as he looks back at Alfred - pain clearly etched into his features .

Alfred is left speechless when he watches the police put away your corpse into a plastic baggy and transfers in the into the back of a van . He eyes Gordon, closing the door shut and entering the vehicle - barking orders to his officers .

" She - she deserves better," Alfred finally murmurs . Silence drafts between them as they watched the van and other police cars take off - their sirens echoing down the quiet mouring of Gotham .

Bruce's eyes follow them until they're out of his eyesight before looking Alfred in his eyes , " I am going to find whoever did this to her and break them," he says with finality. Alfred looks at him - realky looks at him and a part of him wants to agree with him - that you deserve justice- another part of him screams at him that they were the true cause of your despair - that it was hypocrite of Bruce and himself to feel this way when they caused this.

Alfred nods, and both men walk to the parked limo - determined to fix things - to bring you back home - to shower you with love and warmth - to hold you like the precious flower that you are .

Don't worry, beloved name , daddy would fix things - daddy will bring you back, sweet girl.

The dead haunts me

Pt.3 of Damien x Tokyo Ghoul sib. Reader

-> Read part 1 , part 2 here

──► after the death of his beloved sibling , Damien Wayne sets out hellbent on seeking his rightful justice even if it means betraying the world , betraying his family , and betraying them .

Tw : mentions of human abuse , mention of animal abuse , attempted self-harm , blood , gore , dark obsession

April 7th 2009 ,

help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help mehelp me help me help me help me help me help me help mehelp me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help mehelp me help me help me help me

April 8th, 2009

Today, I was allowed to peak through the window again , I got to see a Robin !! I wish I had wings as beautiful as the Robin. It's such a pretty shade of brown like the hot coco mama used to make on Christmas. If I were a Robin, I would fly as high as the clouds, and I'd never fly back down ! I only got electrocuted five times today , maybe because of yesterday ..... but hey, at least I got to see a Robin today !

April 9th , 2009

kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me .

April 10th , 2009

I failed another test yesterday . I couldn't do it , the dog was innocent, and she had little heartbeats in her tummy . I didn't wanna kill her , she was someone's best friend , someone's mum, even if she was a stray dog. The dog looked so scared, so I hugged the dog ! But I don't think they liked that because they hit me a lot . But it was okay because I kept hugging her because I didn't want them to hit me . Then he shoved me off her - I promise I tried , I tried to get up, but he pushed me down with his foot . He then.... ate her .....he ate her, and her blood was all over me . It's my fault she's gone , it's my fault she's dead - I'm so sorry, mummy , daddy, I didn't wanna be a monster .

December 15th , 2016

I made a new friend named Damien ! He's really cool . He has two awesome katanas, and he let me touch one ! I accidentally cut my finger, but that's okay ! We've been good friends for a while , apparently, he's Mr. Wayne's birth son, which is really cool. Imagine having batman as a dad ! Anyway I have to go on patrol with my new friend now !

February 4th, 2017

I cried on my new friends shoulder today , was pretty embrassing, but he hugged me back, and he was super warm !! I accidentally stabbed a suspect - it wasn't supposed to happen, and it was reflexes I swear because he came out of nowhere . Tim called me a monster because of it as the suspect was gurgling and bleeding but honest it wasn't my fault, and plus, he had an assault rifle ! Thankfully, Damien was there to back me up, and he told Tim off but still I feel so bad I didn't want to be a monster but Damien hugged me and promised me that we aren't monsters , we just grew up differently than them .

These entries are the property of Y/N Wayne .

Damien couldn't tell you the last time he slept . Everytime he closed his eyes , the vivid memory of y/n's dead form laying there bleeding in that field replays before him liek a broken record - sometimes in the dead of the night he can hear them calling out to him for help only to but immediately cut off abruptly like that night.

Whenever he's not pouring through countless articles about Arima or what happened that night, he's pouring through Y/n's life entries to the point he's memorized every page since its the one thing that has him grounded to earth anymore.

It's been a year . A year . And nothing, he couldn't find anything about Arima , nothing about the organization he works with , nothing about what happened to you that night, and he's bloody gone mad . It's like whatever happened that night vanished .

He asked - no begged Bruce on his hands and knees , till they were bloodied and bruised to help him search for you and even he - even he couldn't find anything about you . He feels so incredibly useless , mad , angry, somber, and tired, but his mind won't rest until he knows - until he's has avenged you.

Damien finds himself in their room again - like clockwork , his body unconsciously takes him here everytime , he doesn't know why but his body always guide him back here , to a home that's no longer here . He crashes on your bed and sobs loudly.

He sobs and screams his heart out before his lungs burn, and he has no more tears . Bruce stands in the doorframe as he looks at his son's disheveled form . He steps in carefully and approaches his sullen form. He doesn't know if Damien wants his company to begin with, but he shows no signs of being disturbed .

" Damien, we will get to the bottom of this, and we will arrest the culprit. It's just gonna take time -" Bruce says as he rubs Damien's back in a soothing manner . " Arrest them ? I'm going to bloody murder whoever it is, " Damien seethes out as he clutches onto the bedsheets in anger.

Bruce scowls . " They wouldn't want that," he muttered out . Damien stills underneath him before kicking him square , sending Bruce flying into a wall . " YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT THEY WANT," he screams back.

Hearing the commotion , Dick runs into the room and makes a beeline to his father . " Damien what the fuck -" he curses as he helps pick up his father . Damien seethes , red is practically all he sees at this point .

" Damien - we both know they don't like death - what makes you think they'd like it if you took another's life " Bruce says between coughs . Damien shoots him a glare. " DON'T PLAY SAINT WITH ME BRUCE , THEYRE DEAD , THEYRE GONE BECAUSE SOME SICK FUCK AND IF YOU HADN'T HELD ME BACK THAT NIGHT THEY'D BE HERE WITH ME " Damien shouts as he punches the wall next to him.

Dick sends him a glare . " You're absolutely gone mad." Damien gives him a sick smile , " I've gone mad long time. You're just now realizing it." Bruce's shakes his head as he leans against Dick for support . " Don't do this, Damien , don't go down this road," Bruce pleads with his son. Damien shakes his head. " Because of your - no our incompetence , following your pathetic morals , trying to be nice , trying to be diplomatic, they're dead so no father. I WILL BE JUSTICE , I WILL BRING IT , I WILL FORCE IT UPON GOTHAM AND YOU ALL SHALL BARE IT , Damien promises before vanishing off into the night.

Blood stains his shirt , his hands , his face as he moves through the night skillfully, leaving a bloodbath in his wake. The once quiet night of Gotham was now filled with pleads and screams of criminals. Damien decided that since he couldn't find out who did it , he might as well eliminate all possibilities...permenantly.

Bodies were left bleeding out , some were twisted and mauled beyond recognition as Damien carried out his reign of justice . Damien had just finished dismembering a child predator when he heard someone approaching from behind him .

Without any hesitation, he spun around and threw a knife at them. Silence filled th air before the figure emerged from the shadows , knife caught skillfully between their fingers with a stark face . Arima stood before Damien with a cold look.

" You're as messy as a ghoul , almost like them," he states coolly before throwing the knife back Damien's way . Damien dodges it and sends the man a glare . " You," He seethes as he unsheathes both katnas . " Me," Arima confirms as he pushes his hands into his coat. " Why?" Damien spits out . "Why them.." he pleads.

Arima stares at him blankly. " They're like any other ghoul in my world. They're monsters that deserve to die , a monster that had to be put down, " he finishes. A breeze blow between them, and Damien feels himself giving in to blood thirst.

" THEY WERE A GOOD PERSON," he said defensively as tears began slipping down his cheeks. Arima says nothing for a moment and just stares at him . " Damien , sooner or later, they'd become a danger to your universe when they eventually gave in to their urges " he says with a matter of fact tone.

Damien lunges at him , ready to dehead him, but Aima kicks him into a building with heavy force . Damien let's out a pained groaned as rubble crumble upon him like a tidal wave . " They would never eat humans," Damien says as he struggled onto his feet .

Arima simply adjusts his glasses . " They won't but that ghoul inside them would of." Damien lunges after him again, but Arima blocks him with his hand. " People like them are made into monsters." Arima starts as he blocks another one of Damien's jabs . " People like them would pray to God every night and cry their lungs out asking the world why they are the way they are," he continues as he continues dodging Damien's attempts to kill him.

Damien gets angrier the more he speaks and the more he dodges and attempts to pierce Arima in his eye like he did with them but arima simply holds his blade in a tight grip and kicks the other out of his hold sending it flying elsewhere. " There is no hope for people like them but death," Arima says as he stares into Damiens' eyes . Damien curses him out, but Arima ignores him.

" Tell me , you claim to love them so dearly, yet you hurt them more than I ever could that night." Arima finshes before he throws Damien against a wall . This time , Damien couldn't get up , he's too tired, too sore, too beaten - all he could do was cry pathetically.

" I didn't - I never hurt them i-" he stammered. Arima stares at him , " You did , you kill all of those people - curse them for cruelty they never deserved - tell me - you loved them so dearly - you know they hate seeing death so why taint their soul with the death of so many , " Arima finishes before he disappears into the abyss leaving Damiens broken body to weep alone .

" I didn't- I did it for them , I did it for them , all for them - I- love them - i still do - I- y/n my beloved you know I mean good - your big brother was just protecting you , I still am - my precious sibling I'll fix everything -" Damien says between broken sobs . In that very moment , his bruised hand picks up his discarded knife and pierces his own eye with it .

" Don't worry sibling - they don't understand my intentions - they don't get what I've done for you " He stammered as his blood bleeds down his figure . Damien lays there broken , swearing to avenge them over and over like a broken record .

At that moment, Batman landed on the nearby building before his gaze lands on Damien's broken father. Batman immediately grapples to his son - immediately phoning Alfred for an ambulance. " Damien, what have you done " Batman questions as he picks up his son's broken figure.

" Justice, father," Damien replies with a smile . Ambulance wails in the distance as they approach closer. " No , Damien, you became something they would never want , a monster," Batman says as he grapples them away .

Pt. 4 or do yall want more on their relationship???

"They hurt you because they like you." Needs to stop.

I come on here today to bring forward an issue that I have personally dealt with myself.

Most of us females, when we're young, are taught that a boy likes us if he is hurting us, by bullying us, throwing things at us, pulling our hair, pushing us around, you name it. Anything a boy at a young age could possibly think of doing, they did it. When I told my mother about a boy bullying me when I was still in elementary school, from 1st to 4 grade, and even when I see him now, in 11th grade, he treats me like shit. Any chance he got, he used it to hurt me, whether that was emotionally or physically. He'd get his little sidekick friend to chase me around the elementary playground and throw the rubber at my back, so much so that it could cause burns and bruises. I never told my mom that, because when I did, I was told "oh. that's because he likes you."

He abused me, and yet, I still liked him. I still had that stupid little crush on him, even if he hurt me. I was young and impressionable, and I didn't know any better. When I was told "it's because he likes you", that tells me, my little, underdeveloped brain, that it is OKAY for men to treat me like shit, because they love me, and THAT'S why I should stay. I should ALLOW men, with their big fat egos and fragile masculinity, to treat ME like shit because they 'LIKE' me.

In my first relationship, I was treated like shit by my girlfriend and some of her friends. People that I considered my friends. Yet I was gaslighted, I was manipulated and verbally abused by these people who I thought cared about me. People I thought LOVED me. I thought that love was enough, even if they treated me like shit, maybe, deep down, I even thought I deserved it. That I was the one in the wrong. I wasn't in the wrong. They didn't care, they didn't love me, platonically, or otherwise. They abused me, they neglected me. It's been years and still, their actions and words cover me in their shadows. I'm still healing.

Still, to this day, I let people walk all over me, because I push so many people away in fear of the manipulation and abuse that I may be put through, and I have no one else. I don't allow myself to go out and meet new people because I'm so afraid of losing them if I get attached. And I know this, but I also know where it comes from. I've let people walk over me all my life, just because I was taught that it was okay for people to do that because they love me. I was a kid, and I needed acceptance, so I let it happen, but I was never faced with acceptance.

For my whole life, I've been told "he hurts you because he likes you.", and only one time had I brought it up, recently this year, and my mom realized, "Wait... he did that to you? Why didn't you tell me?" My mom realized her error, and while I do forgive her, I cannot forgive those words that set up the first years of my life.

That is why we cannot tell children these things. If you teach your kids that it is okay for them to be abused out of 'love', then you're not only part of the problem, but you are setting them up for the life of a victim. A victim may never understand what love really is because when they think love, they think ABUSE, they think hitting, yelling, throwing things, and cursing. No one deserves to live life as a victim of anything, and it is our job to help future generations NOT grow up like we did. We're supposed to teach generations after us that abuse is never the way, that abuse is NOT love, and it never will be. Abuse. Is. Abuse. Let's start saying it like it is.

mom

sometimes i think

about what i could of been

if i had different parents

but then i realize

you were never really there to begin with.