#— an abuser in the tags then I really don’t think someone can fully understand what they’re getting into

[louieshalo]

.

[sunnygrey99]

Honey, Smoke, Lemon, and Oak Pt 3

~Trigger Warning: Typical TLOU warnings. Self Harm, suicidal tendencies, severe mental illness, PTSD, gore, psychological torture, slight implications of previous abuse/SA (minors DNI) If any other Triggers apply please let me know.~

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Violence, Murder, Death, Smut

A/N: This is a rough chapter. I'm trying to be as accurate to an unpredictable mental illness as I can be. As someone who suffers from severe mental illness I do not take it lightly. Please if you are suffering or need help Tumblr offers resources that can really help.

Wordcount: 2,546

Summary: Plus size!Reader is a Beekeeper and Medical Scientist living in Jackson. A simple meeting of a new friend slowly becomes so much more. Reader is immune. Reader is given a nickname. (This fic will have very dark tones though out. This deals with the unfortunate reality that men do disgusting things to women regardless of the world having ended. All chapters will include warnings and tag warnings. Please take care in reading.)

Its been a couple weeks since Ellie started school. You missed her during the mornings but she never failed to show up after school even just to do her homework next to you as you worked. Joel of course still working in the barn and every once in awhile coming back up to where ever you and Ellie were to take breaks and check up on you both. It was nice seeing them but after they leave each night you could feel the anxiety and hurt edging back into you.

You haven’t slept in the last three nights and its starting to show. Today as soon as you open the door and greet Joel he is looking at you with a deep set concern.

“You doin’ alright today Miss Bunny?” His hand stretches out just about to touch you in case you need support.

You pull back fast and stumble slightly into the door frame, “I’m just fine, thank you.” You pull your arms across your chest and seem to shrink in on yourself. “You can take the day off if you want. I was going to spend today in the barn.”

Joel seems to take the information in and mulls it over for a moment. His concern still intensely written across his features. “I don’t think thats a very good idea-”

You interrupt him quickly, “I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do Mr.Miller. It is my job to make that medication. The town needs it.”

Joel’s features go from concern to confusion to anger in the blink of an eye. “I’m just tryin’ to look out for you. You look like you ain’t slept in a week and now you’re snappin’ at me.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me I said I’m fine. Leave.” With those words you slam the door and start pacing your home. You know its wrong the second the words leave your mouth. Its been months since you felt like this. The last time it happened it took weeks for you to come back from it. Maria found you and helped bring you back last time but at the cost of permanent damage to your friendship. You know she’ll never fully trust you again after that. You can’t let it happen to anyone else.

The next thirty minutes are spent by you locking and boarding up every window and door in the house. If no one can come in while you are like this then they wont get hurt.

~~~

Joel is dumbfounded and stands on your porch for five minutes trying to understand what just happened. He devolves into anger and annoyance and stalks off to find some other work to keep him busy for the day.

Another week passes and Joel finds himself at Maria and Tommy’s place helping them get ready for the new baby. Shes due in just a couple months and both Tommy and Maria are in a tizzy trying to make sure everything is ready for the new addition to the family.

“Ya know it doesn’t have to be perfect right Tommy?” Joel’s tone light and relaxed in the presence of family.

Tommy scuffs and rearranges the fabric diapers and towels again, “I know but I just want it to make sense. Its gonna be hard enough raising a kid in this world let alone having things disorganized once they get here.”

Joel chuckles at his brother, “It was a shitty world then and its a shitty world now, either way ain’t keepin that organized for more than a day when the kiddo gets here.”

Maria walks in then hand on her belly and the other carrying a small box of extra baby stuff. Tommy rushes over grabbing the box from her. “The Doc said not to lift anything and you should be in bed resting.”

“I can’t just lay in bed for the next few months and you know that. Besides the Doc said I can’t lift more than ten pounds. That’s less than eight.” Maria smiles at her husband and pats his cheek before giving him a small peck on the lips.

Joel watches the contentedness wash over their features. A sense of envy fills his own chest. He misses that feeling. Recognizing that he had something similar with Sarah’s mom before she left and he hadn’t felt that want since she did. He also feels a bit of jealousy at his brother having what he wishes he did when Sarah’s mom was pregnant. Joel hadn’t even known about Sarah until she was dropped off by a social worker when she was a week old. Most surprising of all is his sudden want for a chance at that again. He feels himself try to shake off the thoughts. Immediately replaced by the feelings of grief, sadness, and loss. Anger being the most present. The two others in the room oblivious to the change in Joel’s demeanor. Maria turns the Joel then, “So hows the barn coming along?”

Joel huffs and rolls his eyes at that, “Just fine till Bunny told me to fuck off.”

Maria looks over to Tommy with confusion and concern immediately written across her face. She looks back to Joel, “What do you mean she told you to fuck off?”

He simply shrugs. “Looked like she hadn’t slept in a few, asked her if she was alright…damn near chewed my head off for it. Told me to leave so I did.”

She takes a step closer the concern only worsening, “Joel this is very important. How long ago was this?”

He squints his eyes at her then his brother. He feels as if he is missing something important, like he doesn’t know something they do. His eyes shift back over to Maria, “A week ago.”

She curses under her breath before looking at Tommy. “You see her in the past week at all?” He simply shakes his head no. “Tommy we need to get the doc to her ASAP.” He nods and starts heading to the truck Maria right behind him.

Joel stands there confused for a moment lost in thought as to what might be the reason that the doc would be needed. He almost just brushes it off and lets them deal with it, but something in him is telling him to get a move on and help. Clearly something is wrong and Bunny needs help.

Its not even twenty minutes later they are all standing at the front door. Maria banging on the door with no answer. Joel peers into the window to see if there is any movement. “Looks like she’s got the windows and doors blocked from the inside. What the hell is goin’ on with her?”

Maria huffs as she paces the porch, “I should have known when she didn’t come over Tuesday. She never misses bringing me meds.”

“You didn’t tell me she didn’t drop those off.” Tommy voices from the bottom of the porch stairs.

“I still had meds I would have been fine. I thought she would just be by tomorrow when she drops off the rest to the clinic.” Maria walks back to the door again and calls your name. She tries again just a couple more times hoping your real name would coax you out sooner. They all hear a rustling around from inside the house and she calls for you again. “Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!”

Joel can see the tears prickling in Maria’s eyes. He hasn’t ever seen her this emotional and distressed even with the pregnancy hormones. He looks to Tommy and recognizes the same sad look in his eyes that he had when he himself had gone off the deep end. It suddenly struck him what was happening. That’s when they all hear the shattering of glass come from inside the house.

~~~

You’ve been pacing the bottom floor of the house for you don’t even know how long. Sleeping only in small increments when your body allows it. That voice creeping in slowly. His voice. Its been so long since you’d heard it but you remember the condescending tone anywhere. At first it sounded far away like he was yelling from the yard but then he was closer and closer. He always knows where you are in the house without actually being here. He sounds like hes in the walls now.

“Little girl, you can’t run away from me now…” His voice makes you tremble in fear. “I know where you are…I know your every thought.”

“no….no just….just leave me alone please. I’ve given you enough of me.” Your hands squeeze around the leather handle of your knife as you pace in the center of the living room.

“NO! I WANT IT ALL! YOU’RE MINE!” His voice echoes out. Its almost enough to cover the banging at your front door. That’s when you hear your name being called in a familiar, sweeter voice.

“Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!” The voice carried through the walls you had built up. You don’t remember this person, only a small spark of familiarity.

You walk to the front door hand out stretched yet hesitant to take down the furniture blocking the way. “Don’t you dare trust her. She just wants to steal you away from me. You don’t want that do you little girl? She’ll hurt you.” Your trembling hands pull back and reach to cover your ears, the blade from your knife brushing slightly against your cheek.

“She sounds nice, I think I know her.” Your voice just a hushed whisper.

“STUPID GIRL! You can’t trust anyone but me! I kept you safe all those years and THIS is how you repay me?” His voice booms as you stumble back some slicing open your cheek. “It looks like I need to teach you another lesson. A round of iron should teach you better.” Its then that you see him emerge from the wall. A fire poker in hand and red hot. You see his hands wring around the iron grip and a gleeful look in his otherwise dead eyes. The bullet hole in his forehead still oozing blood like the last time you saw him. And the same devious, wicked smile plastered on his face. As he inches forward you feel yourself pushed back into fight or flight mode. You reach to the nearest objects and start throwing them at him, hoping to deter him from coming any closer. Once hes only a few inches away you let out a blood curdling scream. Moments later furniture flies away from its barricade spot and the door breaks off its hinges.

A man you don’t recognize walks towards you in a hurry, light shining behind him as if he is some sort of angel. Unsure of what to make of the man you shuffle away. The man of your nightmares dissipated into thin air as the new man stops in his tracks. His movements much slower now as if trying to calm a scared and wild animal. You can see his lips move but you don’t hear any sound right away. The golden light behind him is almost blinding as it washes over the cold room. It warms your skin as you look down at yourself and see the light gracing your form. Looking back up at the man you smile. “Is it safe? Is he gone?”

The man kneels down in front of you and slowly nods. He reaches up and starts to take the knife from you. That’s when the light behind him starts to fade into an inky black. Panic quickly floods back into your system, and your grip hardens on the knife. “No! GET AWAY FROM ME!” You kick at him and scramble to move away. He lets go and steps back quickly.

“Bunny please, I promise I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He watches you intently and you in-turn watch him. The light and inky black fighting back and forth around the man. Swirling and mixing yet never quite touching. Your gaze still lays on his features with no trust. He waits on a few moments before speaking back up. “I’ll stay right here okay? I just need you to put the knife down.”

The panic quickly grows and your eyes flick from him to the knife and back to him. “I won’t let him or any other man get me again.” You quickly flip the knife back to yourself and plunge the knife deep into your abdomen.

As your body feels the sudden numbness pool in your abdomen reality crashes back in. Eyes locked with Joel’s as he stands there stunned. “Joel…I…” You look back down to your abdomen, “Oh god what…did I do?” Dropping to your knees, hands grabbing at the still plugged wound. Your hands smearing the dripping blood as you feel another pair of hands on you keeping you from fully falling to the ground.

You hear Joel’s voice calling out something. He sounds panicked but you can’t quite understand what he is saying. All the sound around you muffled as if you were stuck in a dream. The inky black that had been around Joel enveloping your own vision as you hear more voices get added to the muddled sound.

~~~

Joel yells out to the group on the porch, “Doc! We need the Doc in here!” He cradles your shoulders as he rocks you back and forth slowly. His other arm pulling your legs to get you laying more flat. The blood pouring out from your wound coats Joel’s clothes and hand. Your eyes only half open staring up at him, pupils blown wide. You try muttering something out and weakly raise your arm. He was quick to hold you and shush you. “It’s alright Miss Bunny, we are gonna fix this. Everything is going to be okay.”

Time seems to stand still for hours as he looked deep into your eyes. His own filling with tears he hadn’t realized he could have for anyone more than he already had. It was when your eyes rolled fully back and the doctor pulled you from his grip that he himself blacked out. The next thing Joel knew he was standing with Ellie next to your sleeping form in a hospital bed.

Ellie’s hand squeezing yours and silent tears rolling down her own face. Joel does the only thing he can think of to help. He pulls up two chairs and guides Ellie to sit still able to hold your hand. He barely catches the whisper that leaves her lips. “Please don’t abandon me too.” It instantly crushes Joel’s heart and all he can do is sit there with Ellie.

Part 4

If you would like to be tagged in my works please feel free to message me and let me know who/what fandoms you’d like to be tagged in. I plan to write for at least The Walking Dead, Shameless(US), Marvel(MCU and Comics), DC(All), Teen Wolf and The Last of Us

[xoxobellebelle]

My life now is so much different than it was just a short while. I never really gave too many posts about anything for a real good chunk of time. I got out of that relationship with that POS that guilted me into dating him at all. It ended with me getting a restraining order finalized on him. If I could just make him understand how much I never loved him, I so would.

I have been in a relationship and living with my current boyfriend for quite awhile now. If the bro that I won’t even call my ex, because I tried to get away from and end things with for almost the entire time, and only started dating him cuz I felt pressure could understand how my current relationship is, he’d fully be able to comprehend how much I did not want to be with him, I never loved him, and I didn’t act like myself when I love someone

With shit Head, he was not allowed to sleep in my bed with me, and say for some reason he did, I would not let him touch me at all, and if he did he would get booted. He slept in the other room cuz I didn’t wanna see him or be near him. Currently, I cannot sleep without my boyfriend. I even have a hard time taking naps without him and I’m on seroquel and lithium so I feel like that’s saying something if I still can’t sleep if he’s not there. Even if I wake up in a pool of sweat from cuddling, I don’t mind at all and the sweat is no big thing, and I don’t move away from him.

With the last dude, he wasn’t allowed to kiss me without asking and i would only say yes maybe once a week. Additionally, if he wanted to hug me, he had to ask, and I told him if I pat his back to immediately let go, cuz I didn’t even wanna give him the dignity of me speaking to him. Currently, if my boyfriend kisses me when I don’t expect it, I can’t stop smiling for awhile after. I have never once even tried to cut a hug short.

Last dude’s smell made me anxious and angry. If anything around me smelled like him I would wash it, even while we were living together. To be fair, he would wear the same underwear for months in end, and would only shower every two weeks, and thought an ungodly layer of cologne would count as hygiene, so even if there wasn’t an association to that smell with SA and physical abuse and what not, anyone would be upset by the smell. But currently, my boyfriends smell is one of the most comforting things in my world. Even when he hasn’t put on deodorant yet in the morning and we were both super sweaty, I still think he smells really good.

Before, I would essentially never allow other dude cuddle with me. I would not allow it. I did not want him near me. If we were watching a movie, he had to sit on a different seat. If he was sitting by me and for some reason I gave in to cuddling with him, I could tolerate for like three minutes max. Currently, my boyfriend and I are always laying on each other if we’re in the same room. There’s almost never a time where if we’re chilling where at least his legs are over mine or visa versa, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Homie before, I avoided posting any pictures of us or him or tell people about him, because I was so embarrassed by him. If I was going to hangout with a friend I would never let them come over to our apartment cuz he was there, and I wanted a break from him, and didn’t want my friends to see him/talk to them. I also would never ever allow him to hold my hand, hug me, or kiss me if we were in public, even if no one was around. My boyfriend however, I am so happy when he posts pictures of us and he tags me so you can see it on my profile. Holding my boyfriends hand in public makes me feel so special, cuz people can see someone as beautiful and wonderful and kind and amazing as him sees worth in me. I generally love PDA (nothing rude tho), so being absolutely 100% not okay with it with the POS should’ve been a dead five away.

Previously, I would go as I could without having sex with the guy. If I could stretch it to three weeks or a whole month I would. Not that it mattered to him if I said no, but I would hold off and dance around the subject as much as I could. I never once initiated anything, genuinely not one time. With my current boyfriend, (this may be tmi , but it’s my tumblr so cry me a river) I can’t get enough of him. I always tell him I love him during as well.

My cats are definitely huge signs that things are different. My cats HATED gross bro. HATED. They would run away if he came near them, they were always trying to cower in my lap, they would always get angry if he pet them, they would hide a lot, all of the things. My boyfriend, the cats are obsessed with him. They get antsy and start misbehaving if he is gone too long. If it’s around the time he gets off work, my cat poppy will sit by the door and meow. When he gets home, she follows him and jumps on the bed to give him head butts.

And finally, time. I hated spending time with previous dude. I always tried to limit my interactions with him as much as possible even when we were living alone together. I stayed in my room, by myself as much as I could. I even had designated ‘leave me alone’ times throughout the day. My boyfriend, on the other hand, were not around each other to the amount that it’s toxic (we live together so that’s an excuse to always spend my time near him tho) I want him around as much as possible. I wanna do everything with him. I want him to keep me company for everything, I want him to come with me to everywhere I go. I would have never dared let guy from before come to a concert or a rave with me, cuz those are my happy places, and I didn’t want him to ruin some of my only chances to smile. My boyfriend now, gets dragged to all of the raves with me. Anywhere I go will always be better if he’s there too.

Life is pretty good right now. I wish the guy before could understand I was not there because I wanted to be. He has no upper hand on me. None whatsoever. He was not a loss to me in the slightest. Getting away from him was not a loss. If he could see how my current relationship is, he would be able to grasp that his absence has been nothing but healing for me, and i never once cried from missing him (probably because there was no missing happening)

[dreamwritesimagines]

It’s CMA-

I feel like when clovers parents come to town, it’ll be a good chance for bonding between Anthony and benedict weirdly because I think that Benedict is going to be slightly upset with him because of his relationship with Charlie (I would expect that, but I also don’t know if he would be like ‘the only person I would trust with Charlie is Anthony’ sort of thing), and maybe a bit resentful or upset because he’s never really had to compete for Charlie’s love and affection so this is new to him (to which he is helpfully reminded by someone that Charlie is now having to share with clover for his attention too).

So he and Charlie have to learn to navigate this new stage of their relationship, including how to cope with Anthony tagging along to everything lmfao (instead of the annoying younger sibling tagging along to hangouts with their friends it’s now reverse).

But back to him and Anthony: I think that Anthony might be the only one who could really understand what he’s going through because he too would tear the world apart if he found out that his wife had been abused/hurt so terribly, and that those same people are now coming to torment her again.

I think it’s an interesting dynamic because we have Anthony who fully understands his rage but is also not completely involved and able to keep a level head about it. They can bond over doing absolutely anything to protect their wives.

(I swear to god though if Ben challenges her dad to a duel I’ll shoot him my fucking self) (also though the angst potential for that happening is so, so strong: clover being furious with Ben that he’d risk his life like that, terrified that her dad is going to take yet another good thing away from her, fear that she’ll lose the one person in the world she finally learned to love and trust (besides teddy and Josie Ofc), facing what was her greatest wish for a long time and now could be her greatest regret, clover and Ben having to mend their relationship after he broke her trust by going after her dad, etc. This prompt is so juicy I kind of want to see it Lmfao)

(also Anthony facing the possibility of losing another family member too young, Charlie thinking she could lose Anthony and Ben (assuming Anthony would be his second), josie gaining a newfound respect for the bridgertons because they’d literally go to war for her sister, etc.)

(okay now I need to stop because I’m so tempted to write this lmfao)

CMA my loveeee! ❤️🥰

Oooh around/when the parents come to town, it'll mess up a lot of relationships 😈

But it's very interesting to think Benedict would be a bit like...possessive, for a lack of better words, about Charlotte and I can totally see that happening! ❤️He hasn't had to share her affections before and it'd be such a new thing for him and also for her! ❤️

Awww Anthony and Benedict reaching an agreement and understanding each other because they're both in love with their wives! 🥰

Wait wait wait-

So how exactly do we think Benedict will react when he finds out how horrible Clover's parents were to her and what they did to her before she came to London? 😏 Like yes he would be furious but a duel? Legit punching her father? 😈

[cryptcatz]

"I think what people say when they're angry is their Real Self" isn't a hot take. have you heard of intrusive thoughts? Anger issues? Or just hurt feelings in general? it isn't hashtag autism culture to be ableist and manipulative like this ffs. "I think people's worst and most out of control moments are their real feelings" do you hear yourself.

??? if i fully believed that i wouldn’t have genuinely asked for like, insight and perspectives to understand what the saying means? i would have just said smthn abt how the phrase is bullshit and no one says things they don’t mean in anger. i said that *i* don’t do this, and *i* mean anything i say when angry (or not angry). but i literally asked for perspective from ppl who say things they don’t mean in anger. and i got it! i am very glad i made the post. i have literally saved many replies/tags to my phone because they really opened my eyes on how lots of different people handle anger, for many different reasons. i am still getting so many different responses explaining things i’d never thought of.

i have only experienced the phrase “i didn’t mean what i said, i only said it in anger, so shut up and get over it “ from abusive ppl in my life. i was curious as to if this happens with people who have good intentions and genuinely apologize for hurting you or if it is a phrase that gets re-used over and over by ppl who hurt you endlessly. it isn’t that simple, i better understand now.

also yeah i will struggle with thoughts that something someone said specifically to hurt me in moments of anger are true, that’s kinda. the point of saying things like that, no? to hurt you. even if it isn’t well thought out. it still hurts. but i understand better now that if the person apologizes and acknowledges they hurt me, i need to try and work through my emotions on it.

and no ableism and manipulation are not hashtag autism culture, but you know what is? struggling to understand/realize that other people can sometimes think, communicate, and function VERY differently from you. in ways you never stopped to think about! im not that bad at working with that usually, but was having issue wrapping my head around this specifically as i couldn’t relate to it at all. so i reached out for people who understood better and could explain in detail what makes them do/say certain things when angry.

it’s a varied and nuanced thing. it isn’t as simple as “mean things said in anger are Real True Feelings” or “mean things said in anger are just that, meaningless.” sometimes they are true feelings, sometimes they aren’t, sometimes they are the truth warped, etc. and i have literally no issue with that. cool down a lil, friend 🧊

[tenshindon]

Can’t explain it but the fact tien screams at tao to destroy his super dodon ray during their fight is very good for my soul

[stranger-rants]

hey,

people are allowed to still not like a fictional character whether or not you think they’ve been redeemed. as black viewer, who actually really likes dacre, it’s completely okay if other black viewers to not like billy just because he sacrificed himself.

don’t know why billy apologists have a problem with people not wanting to feel sympathetic towards a racist. yes he’s a victim, but he can still be a persecutor, which he was. it’s nuanced and people are allow to not like, i repeat, a fictional character. racists aren’t owed forgiveness.

I don’t know who you think you’re preaching to, because I have never once said no one is allowed to dislike him. In fact, I’ve said the opposite multiple times including in posts discussing the racism in the show. Everyone is welcome to their own likes and dislikes and I fully understand why the things Billy has canonically said or done can be too much for people to endure. You see, I do not have a problem with people not having sympathy for racism. It is a systemic issue that generates a lot of trauma for a lot of people. It’s not my place to tell people how to feel about that. I just don’t believe prejudices can’t be unlearned or that a teenager should die for it.

I do have a problem with people ignoring abuse as a systemic problem. That involves people repeating really harmful ideas about how “bad survivors” like Billy should be handled, which includes a very pro-revenge, pro-punishment mindset that does more to perpetuate harm than it does to make up for any harm a person like him did. That is what the self proclaimed “antis” are obsessed with, and not only are they obsessed with repeating very harmful things like Billy, as a survivor, is too far gone to be redeemed, but they are obsessed with making sure that absolutely no one empathizes with Billy as a survivor. Not as a racist. As a survivor.

That is where the problem lies, because yes he is a fictional character. That does not mean that the people who like his character or relate to him in some way are automatically bigots. By contrast, liking the “right” characters doesn’t automatically make someone anti-racist. It is completely unfair to disregard the experiences of survivors and marginalized people who do relate to Billy by dedicating an entire space in this fandom to posting blatant lies and triggering content about Billy and fans of Billy because “antis” are hell-bent on making sure that every single person dislikes him because to them there’s no valid reason to care about Billy’s character.

There’s a huge difference between that and the utter insanity that has taken place the past few years in this fandom. Disliking a character and being mature about it by either blocking content of the character or having critical discussions of them is very different from making threats towards the actors, spamming tags and making screenshots of fanworks to mock people who like the character, joking about the abuse he endured saying he deserved it, lying about a victim of child abuse by treating him like an adult and exaggerating the harm they did as a result of their trauma, and creating a fanon version of Billy who loves cops and SA’s his sister to feel justified in hating him.

That’s not anti-racism, and that is not just “disliking” a character. If I see bullshit like that, especially since “antis” can’t seem to figure out that if you use his full name your posts will show up if you simply search his name, I am going to say something. He may be fictional, but I am not fictional nor are all the other people who grew up abused like him and developed maladaptive coping mechanisms to survive that labeled us “bad survivors.” When fans say he could not be redeemed, we hear that as survivors. When people say he deserved to be abused, tortured, and killed, we hear that as survivors.

So you think what you want. By all means. But it is nuanced which means that how people express their dislike matters.

[jackrrabbit]

Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, it’s not going to be so easy to get rid of him.

A/N: I could write a term paper on all of Dabi’s pathologies in this fic...I forgot how much I love writing smutty angst. Good shit 👌

I was planning on making this a ficlet so it’s kinda structured like that even though it ended up a full-length piece. Also, Dabi says some bullshit about sex work that I absolutely do not agree with or condone so please keep that in mind.

➠ see also: [homeowners association]

Tags/warnings: Dabi victimizes you, noncon/dubcon, light yandere, threats, cheating, NTR kinda?, mentions of past sex work, degradation, rough sex (breath play, impact play, crying), mild violence, very brief mentions of past child abuse in the Todoroki household, sad stuff/angst idk lol, *Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood plays in the background*

Dabi would know you anywhere.

You’re different now, which makes sense. It’s been years. Your old uniform of raggedy denim and hand-me-down leather has been replaced with a prim linen dress, designer label at the collar. You used to dye your hair religiously (it was neon pink when he saw you last) but now it’s styled back to your natural shade, a color he only saw back then when your roots grew out. You smell good, expensive. It does take him a second to recognize you without smudged pencil eyeliner drawn under your eyes like in the old days, but once he catches your gaze the realization is immediate.

It’s you. You. You.

You recognize him too, but your reaction is different—shock, then panic; you tug the arm of the man at your side, urging him to walk faster so you can pass Dabi on the sidewalk. The rejection stings for a second, but he isn’t too surprised. You did abandon him, after all.

Dabi doesn’t let it bother him. You’re not going to get away that easy. He pulls you into conversation, grinning when you reluctantly introduce him to your companion (who is, apparently, your husband) as an old friend from school. You didn’t go to school—Dabi knows that, and you know that, but your husband doesn’t. Which means your husband isn’t aware of your sordid past as a runaway.

This is going to be fun.

Once he knows you’re in town, he doesn’t have much trouble finding you. Your husband is a very wealthy man, well-known in this city now that he’s moved here. So this is what you’ve been up to all these years? Shacking up with some ugly motherfucker who’s at least 20 years your senior because he can afford to dress you up in pretty things and take you on overseas vacations? Dabi has to admit, he wouldn’t have thought it of you. Back when he knew you, you were so sincere, such an idealist, even in your darkest nights.

Then again…you always were willing to get your hands dirty in exchange for a warm meal and a place to sleep. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you think.

Dabi comes to your house in the middle of the day when your husband’s at work and you’re stuck at home because that’s what you are now, a housewife. From a cocksucking whore to a pretty housewife with a dirty little secret. He’s getting hard just thinking about it as he watches your internal debate on whether to let him in or not. Eventually guilt wins out and you usher him inside, hoping the neighbors didn’t see a known villain lurking on your doorstep.

You make Dabi coffee (and aww, you remember exactly how he likes it). He gets you to talking, and you don’t seen surprised to learn about his current line of work; when he presses you, you admit that you’ve been following him in the news. Your life, in comparison, has been wholly uninteresting: you met a man, he proposed, and you married him. Very little has happened to you since. After a long silence you timidly apologize to Dabi for leaving him behind when you two were teenagers, and he tells you he understands.

He doesn’t forgive you.

Overall, things are good, he tells you. But you know, sometimes he misses the old days. Being on the run with you, stealing food from gas stations, breaking into fancy summer homes and pretending the two of you lived there. Stitching up each other’s cuts, because one of you had always gotten in a fight in the past few days. Sometimes he still has dreams about the smell of the balm you used on his fresh burns…and your cool hands, smoothing gently across the tender skin on his face, but he doesn’t say that.

You look down into your monogrammed coffee mug and tell him you know what he means.

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then you offered to let him do yours. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did. You were older and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and heard your voice saying you trusted him, it was the first time he ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He chose twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It hadn’t been long since he got the worst burns on his face (the ones under his eyes, wrapping around his chin and down his neck) and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the ugly, wrinkled scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

…But the longer he reminisces, the more nostalgia’s going to distract him. He came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have coffee with you and talk about the good old days. What he’s about to take from you—what he’s about to make you give—is long overdue.

You’ve still got a little fight in you. Dabi likes that. But you’ve gone soft, filling out and losing muscle in places where you used to be lean and hard from the constant running and fighting of your old lifestyle. Besides, even if you were as strong as you’d been back then, he’d still be stronger than you—he’s a man now, and it’s incredible how small and weak you seem now that he can look at you as a man.

Were your punches always this light? No way…and your wrists couldn’t have always been this delicate. It’s really no trouble at all for him to wrestle you down to the couch and pin you there so he can tear off your stupid little housewife dress and tug your panties down past your ankles.

Once he’s got you fully naked, though, you pretty much give up trying to fight him off. It’s sad, really—like you’re remembering the past, remembering all the times you let other men hold you and fuck you just so you could have enough money to take yourself and Dabi to McDonalds for a few days. And now look, you’re plenty well-fed, but Dabi’s the one holding you down against your will. Funny how things change like that.

He does appreciate your submission, since it gives him the chance to get a decent look at you. The years have been kind—you look so much healthier than you used to. No more visible ribcage stretching out your skin; no more unhealthy pallor from going outside only at night. Your hands are as soft and manicured as if you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, a far cry from the bitten nails and bloody knuckles of your youth. It’s good to see you like this, and he lingers for a second, drinking in the sight of you and committing you to memory.

Dabi’s pictured this moment for years. He used to think he’d savor it, be sweet with you, slow and gentle to show you what you were missing with the trashy guys you used to hang out with. But now, hey—he’s the trashy one, he’s the one who wants to hurt you and own you and ruin you. May as well act like it.

Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?

You’re unbelievably tight for a former whore. Dabi can barely hold out when he first pushes into you, licking the tears off your cheeks when apparently it hurts too much for you to keep up a brave face. It takes real effort to fuck himself all the way into you, pushing past the tense squeeze of your muscles while you…well, you’re not exactly wet, but he’ll get you there. As soon as his hips are grinding up against yours, he’s hitching your legs up on his shoulders and pounding you into your stuffy antique couch so deeply that he thinks it might splinter into pieces underneath the two of you.

God, you’re so, so, tight. Dabi feels like a virgin with his cock buried inside you, biting his lip so he doesn’t cum in thirty seconds and thrusting into you with a rhythm that comes from nothing less than pure animal instinct. And you’re getting into it too. Can you tell that your pleading and begging him to get off you is turning into moaning? Can you feel your hips bucking weakly back against his, reverting to the position of the submissive bitch your body remembers even if your mind has tried to forget?

It’s perfect, right and good and perfect, everything Dabi’s been waiting for since he first knew what it was to want someone—no, not just someone. You. It’s always been you. A person never forgets their first love, right? It’s perfect, except—except you won’t look at him, you keep looking off to the side and sniffling, and that’s not going to cut it. So he slows down and wrenches your head back to center and makes you kiss him, sliding his tongue over yours and trying to see if he can feel the place where you used to have a piercing there, too. It’s kind of thrilling, actually—wondering whenever his face dips into yours if you’re going to bite him, if he’ll come back from you with blood in his mouth.

He’s only got to thumb over your clit a couple times before you’re clamping down on him, your body begging to be used and abused. Your husband hasn’t been treating you right, though Dabi doubts the old bastard can even get it up without a blue pill. Sure, you look like a sweet little doll, so darling and delicate and breakable, but Dabi knows you better than that. You’re strong, you can take it. He knows you want it rough, so that’s how he’ll give it to you—and hey, hey, he can feel your cunt quivering around him—you’re cumming, aren’t you? So you like it. You like it.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long before, but when you cum and tighten and squeal so high he thinks you could lose your voice, the tension in his abdomen rises up and he digs his fingers into your hips and—shit, you’re saying something, what are you saying? You’re pleading, begging him not to cum inside—but, ohhhhhh fuck he can’t help it, he can’t, he can’t, he’s cumming all the way deep into your tight little snatch, cockhead jutting up at your cervix, fucking his semen all the way through you until your slit is smeared white from top to bottom.

Stop crying. Dabi’s sick of hearing you cry.

You’re still pretty nimble, even though your current exercise regimen probably doesn’t extend beyond periodic jogs around your neighborhood and weekly pilates with all the other bored trophy wives. He’s kind of surprised when as soon as he lifts himself off of you, you have the strength to roll off the couch and scramble around on the floor for your clothing.

You don’t say anything, which he wasn’t expecting. You don’t scream at him, demand that he leave, or ask him how he could do this to you after everything the two of you went through together. You probably still think of yourself as an older sister when it comes to him.

When you’d first met the scarred kid trying and failing to live off the streets, you knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He’d known pain before, plenty of pain (icy-blue fire roasting the skin off his face—spiral fracture from callused hands twisting his arm behind his back—cold, aching muscles after what he thinks is the fifth hour spent locked in a closet), but he’d never known hunger. Hunger was a different kind of beast, one that would chew the kid up and spit him out and leave him broken if you didn’t take him under your wing, so you did.

It wasn’t like you had much of anything to spare, but you made it work. For a few years. He didn’t talk at first, but he took what you gave him, so you gave him what you could: food, if you had it; a place to sleep at night; the knowledge you’d gathered in your own years as a runaway on how he was supposed to survive in a world that didn’t care whether he lived or rotted away in a gutter. You cared.

Until you didn’t.

‘Going to be traveling alone for a while. Don’t wait for me. I’m sorry,’ your note had read. You left it in his backpack along with $43 in cash—not much, but he knew it was more than you could afford. It was all you had.

And now you have all of this! Don’t you feel lucky? You have the rich husband who barely looks at you, the big house with so many empty unused rooms it makes him sick, more food than you could possibly eat in one lifetime. All of that, and you also have Dabi’s semen leaking out of your cunt. It’s a real rags-to-riches story, he thinks.

Dabi picks a cigarette out of his jacket and you stop fixing up the buttons on your dress to ask him not to light it inside. How will you explain the smell to your husband? Every move you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouth, is weighed down by despair. You look like you’ve been beaten.

He lights the cigarette anyway.

///

Before he had you the first time, Dabi thought once would be enough. Pretty naive, huh?

He makes it his mission to fuck you in every room of your husband’s gluttonously enormous mansion (what with your history Dabi has a hard time thinking of the house as yours, and considering the way you tiptoe around and seem like you’re afraid to move so much as a vase, he suspects you feel the same). There’s a lot of rooms.

When he shows up at your door again you don’t even bother to hear him out, instead just trying to shut it on him, but he forces his way in. You wouldn’t want to make him mad, would you? Not when he’s got such a filthy secret hanging over your head? Will your husband keep paying for your designer shopping trips when he knows you’re a street rat who used to steal everything she wore? Will he still kiss you goodnight when Dabi tells him you used to wrap those pretty lips around strangers’ cocks for money?

If you want Dabi to keep quiet, you’re going to have to convince him the best way you know how. A cockwhore is a cockwhore. That’s not the kind of stain you get to wipe away with time and distance and expensive clothing.

In the kitchen: standing up, your back to his front and your hands barely holding you up on the counter, so hard and rough and deep that the dishes are rattling in the pantry. One of your teacups falls out of the glass china cabinet and shatters into a million fragments in a four foot radius over the tiled floor. Neither of you notice until after. Blunt red lines press themselves into the tops of your thighs where he’s shoving your body into the edge of the counter and there are bruises on your tits from how hard he’s groping you.

In the dining room: sitting on the edge of the table, one of your legs hiked up beside you and the other on a chair while Dabi kneels on the ground in front of you, his head between your thighs and his tongue flicking over your pussy. You start off thinking that you’re going to have to sanitize the entire mahogany surface before you can eat off it again and then he licks his lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and you don’t really think about anything else after that.

In your husband’s study: doggy-style on the floor in front of the fireplace, facedown, his body folded over yours, pressing you so deep into the tacky lion-skin rug that you can taste it. He sighs in your ear—actually, you’re not sure if it’s a sigh or a growl—and his hand comes up to cover yours. You feel the metal stitches and the rough burned skin scraping on your own and it reminds you that it’s him. It’s Dabi.

(A few days after his 13th birthday, the Dabi you used to know told you that he was going to dye his hair—he wanted to be unrecognizable, and you understood, so you found some old scissors and stole hair dye from the pharmacy and you spent three long hours chopping his hair into rough spikes and painting it black. When you washed the dye out of his hair in the sink, your hands were stained inky black too. When he saw, he looked worried and weaved his fingers in with yours and asked if the dye would hurt your skin if it stayed on too long.

And you looked back at this kid—small for his age then, burned by his own quirk, trying so hard to look older and tougher than any 13-year-old should have to be, and you thought to yourself, I would die for you.)

Now you hear Dabi growling out your name and squeezing your hand as he reaches his climax and you think, I would kill you if I could.

///

Dabi saves the master bedroom for last.

Your husband is hosting a party at your house. Dabi knows because you begged him not to come today, looking up at him with those doe-like eyes, offering things you never would have offered if it weren’t important to you that he stay away on this particular evening. But he still comes to crash it. He arrives just minutes before your husband does, and you have barely enough time to tuck him away on the dark bedroom balcony and pull the curtains closed before your husband is opening the door and greeting you.

Dabi settles himself into one of the tasteful Adirondack chairs on the balcony and listens to your voice, or at least what he can hear of it through the sliding glass door. You’re sweeter with your husband than you are with Dabi, and he should’ve known you’d be, but it still makes him hate your husband more than he already did.

On the other hand, there’s something strained and high and nervous in the way you’re speaking. Probably because your husband is standing about twenty feet away from the man you’re cheating on him with.

It takes a while for the two of you to dress for the party, but finally Dabi hears you tell your husband that you’d like to take a little longer to get ready and bid him goodbye. “Love you,” you say to the old man as he leaves the room, so casually Dabi might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening.

Then you’re opening the door and ushering him inside and telling him anxiously that he has to get out before anyone sees him. But, oh, you look nice like this, dolled up in your evening gown and makeup and diamonds, trying to pull him to the door even though you must know by now that he’s not going to leave it there. Instead of following, he backs you up onto the bed and peels down the straps of your dress and slides his hands up under the skirt, and all the while he can’t stop thinking about what you said to your husband.

You used to say that to Dabi.

The first time it was an accident—you’d mentioned it off-hand during a night when it was snowing and his unnaturally high body temperature was the only thing keeping the two of you alive. “God, I love you,” you’d said, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to share his heat.

It had stunned him and you could probably tell. Maybe the next few times were just you taking pity on a kid who had never been told so casually and so simply that he was loved. But eventually you meant it, the little love you’s before you went to sleep or when one of you went off to do something alone for a few days—a familial love borne of mutual reliance. For the years Dabi was a runaway with you, you were the only person he could trust, and he knows the feeling was mutual.

Now he wants you to tell him you love him again.

It would be hot, wouldn’t it? You telling Dabi you love him while he forces you into a mating press on the bed you share with your husband. Isn’t that hot? You’re never going to be able to sleep on these sheets again without remembering his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock filling you in ways you haven’t been filled since you were 19.

How are you gonna lay next to your husband in this sad cold bed? ‘Cause that old fuck isn’t touching you, Dabi knows that much—if he was, he’d’ve noticed by now that you’re always covered in bite marks and hickeys that he didn’t give you. How are you gonna sleep at night knowing what a nasty slut you are, telling another man you love him?

So say it. Say you love him.

Oh, you’re going to be like that, aren’t you? What did he tell you about being a fucking brat when he’s talking to you? See if you’re still so defiant when he’s got his hand stroking the length of that pretty throat and then sealing down on it, squeezing gently on the veins running up the sides of your neck, not too hard, but enough that you’re probably getting a little dizzy while he continues to fuck into you. Does it hurt? Your face is turning pink. Uh-uh-uh, don’t try to pull his hand off, or he’ll show you just how good he is with his quirk these days.

You’re trying to choke out the words but you can’t quite make them make sense. There’s something endearing about the way your whimpers vibrate through the skin of Dabi’s palm, how he can hear you as well as feeling you. Oh—could you say his name too? He knows you’re feeling all fucked-out and wet and sloppy, every moan rising and falling in time with his cock stretching your pussy open, but can’t you give it a little more effort? He’s sure you can get his name out if you really try.

And if you’re not going to cooperate, Dabi may as well just dig the heel of his knuckle into your windpipe, because you really do tighten up so deliciously when you cough and sputter like that. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he’s going to cum, gonna cum right here in your syrupy pussy and spill it all over your marriage bed—but no, he wants to hear you say it first, so when you’re gagging and turning red and your eyes are watering he finally stops choking you, loosening his grip just enough that his hand is resting on your neck in a lover’s touch. It takes you a second and your voice is so hoarse he can barely hear it, but then you’re speaking and something jumps in his chest—

“I…I love—love y-you, Touya!” you sob. “I love you! I—love you, Touya—Touya—Touya—!”

And ah fuck it’s almost exactly right, your voice saying you love him, saying his real name, a name he hasn’t heard for years because you’re the only one who really knows it anymore—but you’re crying, real heavy sobs while you gulp in frantic lungfuls of oxygen. Your ribcage is heaving underneath him and—god, fuck—your guts are clenching, sucking down on every inch of his cock, every vein—

—oh shit fuck fuck he’s cumming, and he presses his face into your neck, into your hair, kissing you and thinking I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

—please stay, forever.

///

When he’s done, he goes for another round just to make sure you’re going to have cum dripping down your thighs when you go back to the party. No panties, unless you want him to walk through the grand foyer with all the other guests on his way out.

You don’t look at him as you fix your dress and your hair and wipe at your smeared makeup. With your eyeliner rubbed down to the bottom of your eyes, Dabi’s reminded a little of how you used to look—and the reminder is doubled when you slide your legs across the side of the bed and limp over to your vanity, walking hesitantly, your hips rocking from side to side. Damn, did he fuck you that hard?

Reminds him of the old days, you shuffling back to the hideout with that same awkward pain in your gait, purple marks around your neck, and a dim smile decorating your face—for his sake. Oh, and cash in your pockets. You’d tell him that the two of you were going out to eat that night and refuse to let him look at the injuries. God, it made him angry, it still makes him angry just thinking about it—angry at the men who bought you for treating you like that, angry at you for letting them. Angry at himself for not being old enough or strong enough or rich enough to stop them.

Anger, yes…and other things too. There had been a sick, insidious part of him that wanted to be in their position. He’d hated himself for it back then, until you left and the desire to punish you for abandoning him got twisted up with the desire to own you and keep you his. Maybe if he let himself think about it, he’d still hate himself for what he’s doing to you.

By now, you’re too good at covering up the bruises. A sweep of foundation and powder passes over each hickey he left on your throat and it’s like he never touched you. You have to push him off the bed so you can strip the sheets and replace them. When you’re done, you tell him to wait a few minutes after you leave to sneak out the back and he makes another half-joke about joining the party and introducing himself to your old man—

—and you shove him up against the wall with all the strength left in you, wrap your hand around his neck, and dig your fingernails under the line of piercings in his cheek. If he even looks at your husband, if he even thinks about it, you’ll rip his goddamn face open, you tell him in a low snarl.

It’s an empty threat (you and he both know who would win in a physical altercation) but there’s real hatred behind it. Dabi hasn’t seen that kind of fire in your eyes since he found out you became a trophy wife. It makes him want to have you again so he does, pulling your arms away from his face, standing and holding you up against the door to your bedroom, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him to keep from falling.

He’s lubed up by his own cum, and the wet squelching of your pussy just reminds him what a mess you’re going to be when you return to high society tonight. Maybe your husband will be able to smell it on you—the cum, the sex, the other man who’s been keeping his darling wife warm while he’s at work.

Well, probably not. If that stupid fucking cuckold hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s not much of a chance he’ll get it on his own. As Dabi sinks into your tight, gummy cunt again, he decides that he might just have to help the process along. A man deserves to know if his wife is being unfaithful, right?

///

Your husband’s office phone number is written on a post-it note that’s tacked to the desk of his study. It takes Dabi 40 minutes and $30 to buy a burner cell phone, leave a message on the man’s voicemail, and toss the burner in the kitchen trash at your house while you’re in the shower.

The message is short and straightforward. Dabi introduces himself as ‘the man who’s sleeping with your wife’, describes the floor plan of your husband’s house and what position he fucked you in for each room, and finally finishes it off with the evidence—the precise size and location of every hickey he’s left on your body that will still be visible by the time your husband returns from work.

Dabi almost wishes your husband had picked up the call—he’d’ve had a good time explaining in pornographic detail the way your tits look under those too-formal dresses, the way you moan when you cum in his mouth, the way you told him you loved him while he choked you out—with your husband in the house, no less. But this is fine too.

Besides, it’ll be so fucking funny if someone else at your husband’s company hears the message before he does.

///

Whore. Your husband called you a whore.

You’ve been called a whore a lot, actually. More than most people. You should be used to it by now. But it’s different when your husband says it. Your husband, the man who rescued you from a life of poverty and starvation, the man who has given you everything you own, the man who slid a ring onto your finger under a wedding arch and promised to love you in good times and in bad. The man you’ve almost convinced yourself you love back.

He called you a whore and slapped you when you tried to explain yourself and shoved you out the door and locked it. You can still hear his voice telling you the only place he wants to see your face again is in a casket.

So that’s why when Dabi comes to collect you, you’re hugging your knees to your chest on your front porch in your shiny lace-edged slip nightdress, hair in a mess around your head and your lip bleeding onto your chin. Your feet are so cold—your husband didn’t even give you time to put shoes on before he threw you out.

The night is cool and dark but the porch light buzzes on for half a minute when Dabi climbs up the steps to come crouch next to you on the doorstep. You try not to look at him, but he tilts your face toward his, electric-blue eyes skimming over the red mark and blue-black discoloration blossoming across your cheekbone; the blood drying on your split lip.

Dabi asks calmly if your husband hit you, and you nod.

Good, he tells you, and his body lights up blue in a roiling cloud of flames. He’s been waiting for an excuse to kill that old fuck.

The fire is like lightning, bright and ghostly in the darkness. The crackling of the flame eats away at the heavy silence of the night and you crawl back from the dry heat of it, sure you can feel your eyebrows singeing from being near. Dabi looks different backed by the inferno—bigger, crueler. Frightening. He reaches at the door but you shout at him to stop.

Why? Don’t you think he should suffer, after what he did to you?

But your fists clench by your sides and you set your teeth and you tell Dabi that if he’s going to kill your husband, he may as well set himself on fire too, because it’s his fault in the first place. And he’s done a lot worse to you than one slap.

Dabi waits a moment, searching your alarmed expression for something, but whatever he’s hoping for you don’t give him and the flames go out. The air smells like smoke and his hands are hot—not burning, but uncomfortably hot—when he kneels in front of you and rubs a thumb over your bruised cheek.

“(Y/N)—” Dabi starts, and then he can’t find a way to finish. So he just gathers you up in his arms and carries you bridal-style down into the lawn and to the driveway, where he’s got a car waiting to take you guys back to his place. You don’t resist, which surprises him again. He thought you’d push away at him, scream, get angry—he thought he’d have to convince you. Or force you, like he usually does. But you just let him deposit you in the seat next to the driver’s.

Before he gets in, he asks you if you need anything from your house. He can go get it for you. See if any balding motherfucker in his forties can stop him. But you just shake your head.

“There’s nothing,” you say blankly. “I have nothing. I…have nothing.”

Just like back then.

“Not nothing,” Dabi tells you, turning forward to the road so you can’t see the look on his face. “You have me.”

///

In the end, he does understand. He understood it the second he held that goodbye note in his hands and knew you were lost to him.

You were 17 when you met him and 19 when you left—hardly older than a child yourself. You barely had enough to provide for your own needs, much less a teenage boy’s. By the time you left, Dabi was more than capable of surviving on his own and already falling into ugly crowds, gangs and syndicates who saw money in his quirk, people you’d sacrificed a lot to keep him away from. He no longer needed you, and it was time for you two to go your separate ways. Dabi understands that.

But now you need him. Just like you needed him when you were fucking strangers for food money; like you needed him when you ran away; like you needed him when you got trapped in this mundane, sparkling-clean life, a life that was never going to fit you. Only this time—this time, Dabi’s old enough for you. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. He’s got an apartment and a good job (well, kind of) and he’s got money. He can provide for you the way you’ve always needed him to.

Dabi’s going to take care of you, and you’re never, ever going to leave.

[tsunderedoctor]

Hello, I don't know if emergency requests are still up but I hope you're not forcing yourself too much, okay?

Firstly, I have a bad habit of biting my nails until it bleeds, luckily I'm slowly rehabilitating myself but yesterday I got into the worst episode I've ever been, to the point where not only my nails were bloodied but also the skin around my nails. I can't even touch anything without feeling pain and it just made it worst.

If it's not too much, can I request a comfort fic with Marco, Law and Katakuri? Thank you, I hope you have a nice day 🤗🤗

Sorry for the delay on this!! I hope you are doing well! I have a similar coping mechanism of biting my lips or picking at my skin, control is a fun thing-- If you ever have those moments try finding someone you can talk to, hell you can talk to me too!! Hope these boys help! 💖💖

Babes Below~!

Marco the Phoenix

Marco is quite observant, sadly for you, this means he would catch you quite quickly when you want; need; to bite your nails. He’s not the type to punish or scold you, however, so he will hold your hand in his and say nothing else, believing that you shouldn’t give into negative behaviors.

He doesn’t mind wrapping your fingers if they bleed, he’s gentle to not cause any pain and doesn’t use any harsh words when you apologize profoundly for bothering him and causing him worry, just gives you a knowing smile that your words have reached him. 

Suggests alternatives for you, such as chewing gum or some sort of chewie you can bite onto. He wouldn’t suggest bitter nail polish or nail protectors due to knowing the body needs to slowly break the habit created, will only agree if you are fully convinced you need them. 

Either way, man will be your positive support and will never get mad or judge you for having episodes, he loves you and wants you to be happy!

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Unlike Marco, Law has a bit of stress added to his touch. This is a man who doesn’t sleep and has some questionable coping skills himself, but he still worries about you.

I headcanon that Law is also a nail biter (and lip biter-), he’s the type to handle lack of control by self abusive behaviors, but is also hypocritical and doesn’t like when others are self abusive. 

I think it would be really helpful for both of you if you work together to break the habit, if you see one another go to bite you can stop one another, by holding one another's’ hands or maybe having a code word. Whatever choice you make, know it helps Law just as much as it will help you too!

Expect cranky Law if he hasn’t bit or done any self abusive behaviors lately, think of it as an addiction, he needs it, suggest some new ways to get through this together and he will feel a bit better. When you have your moments, he will also remind you he is here for you and doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

Charlotte Katakuri

Kata loves you and wants what is best for you, so he will be more of a discipliner rather than an understander. Know it’s with good intentions, but that’s how he was raised so it’s understandable why he might be a bit more strict compared to the other two. 

Suggests the bitter nail polish or finger guards, if those don’t work he will resort to holding your hand, but he will get a bit embarrassed so he doesn’t like to do it as much (babe doesn’t like to be vulnerable). He’s also worried he is rewarding this behavior, but he doesn’t like seeing your fingers all red and you look like you’re in pain.

He’s not the best bandager, but he will do his best for you! Expect multiple Band-Aids and loose bandages that fall off after an hour or so, you’re just so small compared to his larger frame so he doesn’t know how to handle it. 

If things don’t get better, he will research other ways on how to handle this and maybe ask some siblings who he respects. He won’t give up on you, as you never gave up on him, eventually he knows you two will get through this bump in the road.

Tag List: @chloe-nanami @musical-apple @luxiditea @macdonaldsmanager @onepieceya @undercoverweeeb @fantasyfairysworld @athenaportgas @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @xxtoothachexx @simpforroses @thatbadbruja @portgaslari and whoever else wants to join in!

[becomingbts]

Time heals (sometimes) - Teaser 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: I was thinking of “Moonchild” and for some reasons, some memories I’d prefer to have forgotten came back to my mind and instead of making a full-blown panic attack like I used to, I thought that it would make a great plot if I mingled that with a soulmate and idol verse and that’s how I started going into it. This is going to be loaded with personal experiences, even if they’ll probably be a bit differently explained compared to what I experienced. Despite the heavy themes and many warnings, I hope you guys will like it. I think I really needed to write it. It will be a semisocial media AU!, because I like the idea of being to write some of their conversations through texts. However, I do plan on fully writing most of it. Though, you’ll have some updates about their social medias as I will update their profiles soon after you see this. I will probably mix a lot of different media for this story such as songs written and produced by myself. I’ll upload for real MC’s EP. So expect a lot for this story. Please take well care, feedback is always very warmly welcomed, it helps me to write for real. If you need to talk to someone, my dms are always opened and if you really don’t feel well, please call urgency numbers.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

"And we will close our night show with the most awaited segment! The audience jumped during the commercial break, it's amazing how many people just joined us! Welcome to our interview segment and especially, welcome and thank you so much for being with us Moon!”

"Of course, thank you for having me on your radio show." 

"Thank you for coming! I have to mention that this is your very first interview with another media than your usual personal platforms like Vlive, YouTube, or Instagram, so we are honored to be the first ones to greet you! Do you plan on making more activities outside your personal schedule for the promotion of your new album?" 

"If I may be honest, not really. I'm the most comfortable in my own safe zone and I tend to try not to get out of it too often. It might close some doors to me but I'm comfortable with my fans that way. However, I often listen to this radio show and a lot of my fans were enthusiastic about that so I thought: why not."

"Ah, thank you so much, it means a lot! Your fans are indeed a strong community and they support you whether you go to TV shows or not. Besides, you've been a very active artist on social media and your whole career started on YouTube and SoundCloud before you signed to your current agency. We have to congratulate you on your journey! It's barely been two years but here you are, with your second EP 'People'! Congratulations on the release!" 

"Thank you very much."

“For our listeners who might not know who Moon is, I’m going to introduce her to you: Moon, your real name is (Y/N), you were born on August 4th, 1998, Incheon and your mother was American so you pursued your studies in America. You have been taking online classes since the start of your career at the HULT, university of Florida, and even recently got your Business Bachelor, now aiming for a Ph.D. You started your journey on Youtube, uploading covers and vlogs until you finally started producing your own songs, releasing them on Soundcloud. You started gaining a lot of followers; thus, you started on other social media such as Twitter or Instagram. One year ago, you release your first EP called ‘BALANCE’  which is the reason why the music label BigHit reached to you and asked you if you wanted to sign with them. Did I get everything right?”

“You are. It feels like you know my life better than I do.”

"Ah not at all, but thank you, I am glad that I didn’t say something wrong! Would you mind sharing the concept of this EP? Many of your fans probably already know but maybe some of our daily listeners might not!" 

"Of course. As you said, 'People' is my second EP, yet the first to be studio recorded. Signing with BigHit is a big step in my career and it created a lot of changes, hence I decided to focus on the people I have met, stayed with, became close to, or detached myself from… This is dedicated to the people who changed my life, whether they intended to or not. It could be interpreted as my social life diary in a way." 

"I see, many of your fans have said that the album held a very distinct duality, with a bright and a much darker side that made quite the storm on social media. ‘Y/N our Moon’ and ‘MOONISBACK’ trended for a few nights on Twitter. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?" 

"I guess it was a surprise because this mini-album is really raw and uncensored. I didn't try to sugarcoat it nor to romanticize my experiences. I hope it brings comfort to people who haven't been feeling well. Because I think that it’s always easy to say that it's going to be okay to someone who’s not feeling well. Everything doesn’t suddenly become okay. And it's fine to be hurting, you can learn to live with this pain and move on while still hoping for better days. There is no end to hopes, and this is why my EP has a brighter side to it. Not everything is always a vast cold ocean. Sometimes, there are small or big waves that come crashing into our universe and they form something that we couldn't have imagined. They bring a little piece of sunshine in life and it helps to move on. So I hope that people who are struggling know that, despite how insignificant I might be, there is a person that understands and can relate to their struggles. I hope it can comfort them, even just slightly, to know that they are not alone." 

"That's a beautiful way to put it."

"Ah, thank you." 

"I have to ask because I'm really curious and I’m definitely not the only one: a lot of your fans have been theorizing about who could your title track ‘TIME’ be about? I have to ask you on the behalf of everyone. Is it okay for me to break the mystery?" 

"Time is a track that shouldn’t have made it to the EP. It’s a bit like a fit of personal anger that I didn’t know I needed to let out.”

“Your anger was definitely heard and understood. People have been curious about the addressee of the song especially because of the line ‘maybe it’s time I finally let go of you’. So can you tell us who is it about?” 

“Uh...Time was written for my seven soulmates who rejected me years ago." 

"Seven!?"

"Yeah, it's a lot I know.”

“Is that why you have covered your soul mark with this tattoo on your arm? Netizens talked about it a lot; normally idols tend to cover their arm from the public eyes to avoid for their soulmates’ names to be known, but instead, you were proudly showing your tattooed arm, fully covering what might be under the ink. Many people assumed that it meant that you didn’t have a soulmate at all.” 

“Well, I decided to cover the mark because there was no reason for me to keep it without hurting myself. I decided that I have been hurt enough to let myself take a rest. I didn’t see the point in hiding my arm either, I’m proud of my tattoo, I mean; it’s really a beautiful piece in my opinion. But to answer the assumptions, I don’t consider that I have soulmates anymore, hence why the tattoo as well." 

"This is really a heartbreaking story, it must have been extremely hard. Breaking a soul bond is immensely dangerous, my link with my husband already itches when I spend the day away from him, so seven soul bonds? It must have been terrible." 

"It was, but the most important is where I am now. I'm not lingering on that anymore because they made their choices and I thus made mine. I just hope that they all are healthy and happy where they are." 

"I have to say I'm really impressed (Y/N)-shi, you really have a delicate and caring soul. I probably wouldn't be able to have such soft words about your soulmates had I been in your shoes."

"I think living the actual experience made me reflect on myself a lot. I'm comfortable where I am now, I'm able to do music and make what I love. I have nothing to complain about, I'm surrounded by lovely and supportive fans, I have the best manager I could have ever hoped for and a warm and healthy family. I don't need more on my side." 

"I'm glad you are happy then. Many of your fans have pointed out it's really hard to make you smile and some wonder if you are happy, especially after the release of ‘TIME’, I don’t blame some of your fans for being worried." 

"Ahhh, is smiling the only way to prove that we are happy? I believe my words are usually a bit more impactful than my facial expressions. I have to admit that I don't often smile, it's not a bad thing, at least I don't think so, but I just don't feel the need to smile when I don’t feel like it. Besides, I get shy easily when I expose my emotions too much." 

"It's hard to imagine you being shy but at the same time now that I have you in front of me, our listeners cannot see you, but I definitely feel that you have a very shy and reserved aura despite the energy you give off when you are on stage. It’s not unfriendly either, but you’re just very soft-spoken and quiet in everything you do. Like when you came in, I barely heard you entering at all; you’re just silently making your way without a fuss, it’s really endearing, to be honest."

"Ah... I’ve been told that my stage persona and the ‘me’ in real life were two different entities but I don’t really think it’s true. I'm extremely introverted and it doesn't really mix well with the stage. So I just put it on the side for the people who came to see me and deserve to see more than a 24 years old woman who has troubles speaking without stuttering in front of other people." 

"You stutter when you have to speak in front of other people?" 

"Sometimes it happens when I’m nervous, and I’m very often nervous. Like right now, I’m extremely nervous. But it's something I'm working on." 

"Well it's definitely paying off because I couldn't sense that you were nervous at all, just very calm and soft, but I wouldn’t be able to imagine you being nervous enough to stutter."

"A lot of artists actually have stage fright, most of them just don't want to admit it because it doesn't sound sexy when you tell your fans you're actually shaking before going up there for the show." 

"This is very true, but it's refreshing to hear it from someone who actually lives through that rather than fan theories." 

"That's understandable." 

"Our time is coming to the end, do you have anything you would like to add before we sadly get our mics taken away?" 

"Oh uhm, everyone, my new mini-album 'People' came out very recently and yet it already received a lot of love so I want to thank you for that. This EP was a very personal project and I was worried about how it would be welcomed but you all made me realize that I have nothing to fear because we'll always find someone who can relate to our stories. As long as I can help even one person with my songs, then it's enough for me. Thank you for listening to me and my voice. I hope we'll be able to meet soon. Love you my fans and non-fans as well, please take well care of yourselves in those times. Be careful and stay safe. Wear your mask!" 

“Thank you so much Moon for being with us tonight. Our time was short but I really enjoyed it, I hope our listeners were able to feel that very warm presence of yours through the mic. ‘Give Me A Song’ of Moon’s EP ‘People’ will now be playing and we will see each other tomorrow night with IU for the release of her new album LILAC. Take care!”

Comments or Ask to be tagged!

Uploaded : 08/04/2021

[length-of-rope]

Wow your post about domestic abuse and the whole Constantin being a victim of abuse almost made me cry, it’s so well written and you explained something I wished I had the courage to say for a long time!

It’s very easy for people that haven’t gone through it to say awful things and not only minimize but to completely ignore how complex this subject can be, it hurts in so many ways, if you’ve seen it happen, I did see it through my father and I know he was the way he was thanks to his father before him, it’s not easy to break free, I saw him try many times and even though he made me suffer a lot, I still think of ways he could have made it.

It’s not possible anymore for him, but I hope people that can relate even a tiny bit with what Constantin is going through don’t really read tumblr, but if they do, I hope they know they can grow out of it, that they aren’t a lost cause, that they can be better friends to new people they’ll meet, that it’s hard to break the cycle but it’s not impossible.

You don’t have to publish this message but I really wanted to say what you wrote moved me because I see so many people wanting this show to portray real life struggles but it’s always so black and white to them when it comes to a complex issue where they can make a person a villain and only that. It’s so easy to simplify it.

Thank you for not doing that. Much love to you.

Hello, thank you so much for this message, it confirmed to me that making that post was the right choice.

I've seen a lot of commentary about Constantin in the tag and while I agree that his behaviour merits criticism a lot of the time, I'm not comfortable with the way people diminish the impact his abuse has on him as person. It has reached a point where people who express sympathy feel like they're "too understanding" or are openly mocked in the tag. I also feel, like the careless way people talk about abuse can send the wrong message to abuse victims who frequent this tag and don't fit the "tortured and quiet, therefore acceptable" image of someone who has experienced abuse. I'm certain most of them have at some point in their lives lashed out and ended up hurting the feelings of people who did not deserve it. I don't want these people to live with the impression that that somehow "proves" that they are bad people or that they're unworthy of love and affection.

My mother has been abusive towards me my whole life, in the exact same way her own mother was abusive towards her. The reason why she treats me this way is because she doesn't know a different way to treat me. It's a dynamic she learnt at her home and never had the opportunity to unlearn. I don't think she even fully comprehends the ways in which she hurt me. None of it makes her behaviour okay and I've taken necessary steps to keep myself safe and distance myself from her. That doesn't mean that I can't still love her and empathize with her pain. And I do, truly, I feel her pain down to my bones. Do you know what makes me even more sad? The fact that she will likely spend the rest of her life miserable and in pain, because she never got the help that she needed.

I understand how easy it is to get caught up in this cycle because I can still see those negative patterns of behaviour in myself. Sometimes, I'll be arguing with someone important to me and I'll feel so cornered that I will lash out and yell at them in response. I've been through therapy and it rarely ever happens nowadays but it does occassionally. The reason it does is because that's what happened whenever my mother would get into one of her drunken rages and take out her anger on me. I would yell back, because it was the only way I felt I could defend myself in a situation that made me feel vulnerable, unsafe and attacked. At some point it becomes an instinct and it's impossible to understand if you haven't gone through it yourself.

But it can change and sometimes it takes a while to get there, perhaps because you don't have the resources or even the courage to get yourself the help you need. Sometimes, it'll take years for you to be able to get it and by that point you might find yourself in a situation where you've hurt a lot of people who cared about you. And you know what? It sucks and they didn't deserve that but you still deserve to get that help, don't take away your chance of getting better and finding happiness because you feel like you need to punish yourself. Break that cycle.

[thisbeatchachinglikemoney]

So Far Away (part 3)

Part 8 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS

Summary: Everyone finally makes up... kind of...

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, some triggering PTSD episodes

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18​, @black-rose-29​

AN: The last part of the first part of the series. GOT7 are not a band in this btw. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys!

Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Y/N POV:

My knees felt weak and my palms were sweating. I knew Yoongi could feel it as he held tightly onto my hand, quickly walking us through the park towards the exit. His jaw was set in determination, his grip on my hand borderline painful, but I knew it was because he was scared... I was too. 

If He had managed to find out where I was, I was never going to be safe. I knew I needed to tell someone, but who would believe me. I had no proof, and the bruises and cuts He had left on me had faded. 

We arrived at the van that was waiting outside for us and Yoongi helped me in before settling near the back. He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around my waist. My heart was racing. I knew he could feel it under his arms.

My stomach churned as I let my thoughts run away with me. What if He finally got to me and took me back to His house and never let me leave or have contact with anyone? What if He actually killed me this time? What if I killed myself? I wasn’t going to be strong enough to make it through. 

“Jagiya, your heart is racing. You need to calm down.” Yoongi said gently. I shifted in his lap so I was sitting sideways. I rested my head on his chest as I sighed, playing with my fingers.

“I’m scared, Yoon.” I whispered. “I don’t think I’ll be able handle it again if He takes me. I really don’t.” I felt him stiffen underneath me, knowing that he knew what I was talking about. 

“Don’t say that.” Yoongi said, stroking my back. “Please, don’t say that.” He sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You are the strongest woman I have ever met. You will get through this. And even if he does take you, which he won’t, I will not sleep until I have you back in my arms again.” He vowed. “But that will never happen because he will not be able to get near you. I promise.”

I smiled faintly at him and leaned against his chest. “Just don’t let me go.” I said.

“Never.” Yoongi said. “I love you. I will never let you go.” A small smile crept onto my face as he froze, realizing what he had just said.

“Yoongi oppa,” I said, taking his face in my hands. “I love you too.” I leaned up and kissed his lips gently. “Thank you.” He tilted his head at me in confusion. “Thank you for taking me in and not rejecting me. Not all people like you would have done that for someone like me.”

“I love you, so much.” Yoongi said. “And I think I knew that the moment I laid eyes on you and felt our bond. And I’m not saying that because of it. I’m saying that because you made me feel the same way I do with the members. You make me smile and laugh, which is hard for some people to do. It feels like you complete me.”

“You complete me too. All seven of you.” I replied as the door to the van opened, making me jump and freeze.

“Hyung? Are you here?” Jimin called as he hopped into the van.

“Yeah, we’re here, pretty boy.” Yoongi called back, nuzzling his face into my neck. “Did you round up everyone?”

“Yes, they’re all here.” Jimin replied, making me look at Yoongi.

“All of them?” I asked feeling even more scared. I could not face Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung right now. Not at all.

“It’s okay. They’re all sorry for what they did. I still haven’t forgiven them though.” Yoongi replied. I nodded slowly and rolled my eyes at him.

“Of course you haven’t.” I murmured, making him tickle my sides.

“Yah, what do you mean by that, hmm, baby girl?” He said, his dialect very strong.

“I mean that you haven’t forgiven them because you’re stubborn and want to make them work for your forgiveness. You forget I know you very well, Min Yoongi.” I replied, touching my finger to his nose. I turned as Jimin approached and sat next to us as the others all found their seats in the front two rows.

“Hey my beautiful princess. You okay?” Jimin asked, leaning down and pecking my lips as he pushed my hair out of my face.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I replied, taking his hand in mine. “I just want a quiet night in with lots of cuddles and some movies. Oh, and lots and lots of ice cream.” I requested.

“That we can do. But first, you have to speak to Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung and sort everything out. They are also your soulmates.” Jimin bargained. I pursed my lips slightly, looking up at Yoongi who nodded.

“Okay.” I agreed. “But I don’t want a massive argument.”

“There won’t be.” Yoongi reassured me. “Is everyone here now?”

“I think so, hyung. Is my carrot okay?” Jungkook called from near the front of the van where he was snuggled next to Namjoon. Hoseok and Jin were with Taehyung near the middle.

“Carrot?” Yoongi frowned, looking at me. I whined and covered my face with my hands, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

“I’ll tell you later.” I replied making him nod and peck my cheek. “Yeah, I’m fine Kookie oppa.” I called back, making him flash me his bunny smile before he settled back in his seat.

After a half an hour drive, we arrived back to Yoongi’s apartment. Home. Yoongi helped me out of the van and together we walked up to his apartment quickly while the others gathered their things.

“Get changed into something comfy.” He said gently. “Do you want to order takeout?” I nodded as I rifled through my drawers to find some sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Yoongi oppa, can I have a hoodie please?” I asked, beginning to undress myself. He hummed and nodded, walking to his closet and grabbing one out.

“Okay, when I bought you that set, I knew it would look good, but fuck, jagiya.” He groaned when he turned around to pass me his black hoodie that had the word ‘Damn’ written on the front. I flushed red and moved to pull on my sweatpants, but he moved forward and grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “Just let me look at you.” He said, holding onto my waist. His eyes travelled down my body hungrily.

“Yoongi...” I whined as he leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to my sternum. “We have other people here. We can’t. Not right now.”

“I know.” He said, his forehead resting against my chest. I ran my hands through his hair, the smell of his shampoo and cologne reaching my nose.

“So can you let me get changed please? I don’t really fancy having this conversation in my underwear.”

“It’s so sexy though.” Yoongi huffed. He pulled away from me. “Get changed, quickly, because I don’t know how much longer I will be able to control myself.” I quickly pulled on the hoodie and sweatpants and we left the bedroom and entered the living room.

Hoseok and Jimin were cuddled together on the armchair while Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook were sprawled over each other on one of the sofas. Taehyung was lying across the other one, his eyes closed and foot moving to the beat of the music playing on the TV. Yoongi cleared his throat, making Taehyung sit up straight and Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook pay attention and look at us.

“I think three of you here have something to say.” Yoongi said slowly, making Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung hang their heads in shame. 

Jimin stood up off Hoseok’s lap and approached me, kissing my lips gently. “I’ll see you soon, okay.” He said softly. “Kook, Jin hyung, let’s go. Give them some space.” Jin and Jungkook stood up and followed Jimin out of the room, dropping swift kisses to my lips.

“So...” Namjoon said awkwardly as Yoongi sat down on the armchair, pulling me onto his lap. “We’re your soulmates, then.” He said slowly.

“That does change anything you said about her, Namjoon ah.” Yoongi said sternly. “Properly apologize, the three of you.”

Much to my surprise, it was Taehyung who spoke first. “Y/N-ssi, I should be the first to apologize. It was me who told Yoongi hyung to reject you when I found out. I know now that that was unacceptable for me to do and it was not my place to make that decision, but I was just scared and jealous. Scared that Yoongi finding you would throw off our entire relationship dynamic and jealous that he would most likely spend more time with you than me. I’m so sorry that I made you feel like an outsider. I understand if you can’t forgive me. What I have done and said is inexcusable.” He said, dropping to his knees in front of me.

“I-” I looked at Yoongi, who gave me a comforting smile and rubbed my hip. I did feel bad for Taehyung; it was me who took Yoongi away from him, but he could have voiced his feelings earlier and we wouldn’t be in this mess. “I accept your apology, Taehyung-ssi, but what you said about not only me but also Yoongi is something that I cannot forgive that easily. But I am willing to get to know you and spend time with you while I take the time I need to fully process what has been said and done.” I said slowly.

“I understand. Thank you.” Taehyung smiled and returned back to his seat. 

“I’m sorry that I made you feel scared and unwanted.” Namjoon spoke up.

“And me too.” Hoseok agreed. “We were both being selfish and unwilling to give you a chance.”

“And we were protecting Taehyungie.” Namjoon added. “We didn’t know if you would be a saesang or not. We wanted to make sure everyone was safe. But we know now we should have given you a chance and that is something we both really regret.”

I nodded and hummed. “But if you were scared of me being a saesang, why would you let Yoongi be alone with me?”

Namjoon and Hoseok looked at each other before turning back to face me. “Yoongi was adamant that you weren’t, so we thought it would be best to allow him to spend some time with you and if you turned out to be a saesang, then...” Namjoon trailed off and hung his head, not making eye contact with Yoongi. 

“Then what, Namjoon?” Yoongi asked carefully, his voice laced with a slight hint of venom. I could tell Yoongi had not heard this part of their story before.

“Then we hoped it would have taught you the lesson that you should listen to us.” Namjoon admitted. “Yoongi hyung, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I was just angry.”

“Angry enough that you would allow me to be hurt if it came to it?” Yoongi was seething. “And just to think I was starting to forgive you both.” He gently pushed me off his lap and stood up, stalking over to Namjoon. “How could you ever think of doing that to not only one of your best friends, but also your boyfriend!” He yelled and raised his hand over his head, making me flinch.

Jimin POV:

We were listening in on the conversation just to know how it was going. We could hear voices starting to become slightly raised, so I was ready to go out there and take Y/N away so she wouldn’t begin to have any flashbacks to what had happened to her. I moved out of the door to watch her carefully and see how she was acting and reacting to everything.

I watched as Yoongi pushed her off his lap to walk over to Namjoon. I could tell he was about to yell and I knew that was one of the things that could potentially set Y/N off. 

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asked me in a hushed whisper. 

“There’s about to be an argument and Y/N will not be able to handle the yelling.” I replied, walking further away from the door. And that was when Yoongi shouted, and raised his hand over his head, and Y/N, my sweet, beautiful princess, flinched away from him. “Shit.” I said under my breath and quickly made my way into the living room. “Come on, princess.” I said, wrapping my arms around her and leading her away from the argument. 

“Where are you taking her?” Yoongi asked, turning around, his eyes flaming with anger.

“You’re scaring her.” I said shortly, taking her to one of the bedrooms to calm her down. “You can come and see her once you have calmed down.” I looked over my shoulder and saw Taehyung curled up on the sofa, his hands over his ears. He hated it when people shouted in anger and he would only resort to it himself if he really had to. “Taehyungie, come on.” I said softly, holding out my hand to him. He looked up and almost ran over to me, taking hold of my hand like it was his lifeline.

When I turned to look at Yoongi, I saw his eyes filled with guilt. “Y/N, jagiya, please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He reached out to touch her but she flinched away from him again, making him take a step backwards and cover his mouth, regret filling him.

“You can come and speak to her once you have properly calmed down and thought about what you were going to say.” I said coldly. “Sort this out first.” I gestured between him and Namjoon. “I’ve got you princess.” I whispered in her ear as I lead them both to the bedroom.

Jin looked up when we entered the bedroom, noticing Taehyung’s tear-stained face, and Y/N’s blank stare. “What the hell happened?” He asked, his eyes glancing between the two of them worriedly.

“Yoongi shouted.” I replied.

“Shit. Tae baby, come here, come to hyungie.” Jin said, opening his arms. Taehyung let out a choked sob before hurling himself towards Jin, dissolving into tears. Jin began to calm him down as Jungkook and I tried to break Y/N out of her own mind.

“Princess, you’re okay. You’re safe.” I said as I sat down on the bed, sitting her down between me and Jungkook. She was silent and remained staring into space.

“Carrot?” Jungkook pushed her hair out of her face. “Jimin hyung, she’s saying something.” He said, noticing her lips were moving.

“Princess, what are you saying?” I asked gently. All of a sudden, she screamed and began to cover her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me.” She begged as she sobbed.

“Princess, you’re okay.” I said again. “Listen to my voice. You’re here with me, Jungkook, Jin and Taehyung. We’re all here for you. We will keep you safe.” I said. “Come back to us. Please. I can’t bear to see you hurting.”

“It’s not working.” Jungkook said, panic filling his eyes. “What should we do now?”

“Ummm...” I wasn’t sure what to do. I racked my brain, trying to remember if Yoongi had told me something about how she would calm herself down. “She used to dance to calm herself, but she can’t do that now.”

“Sing to her, hyung!” Jungkook said as he got the idea. “Let’s sing to her.”

Y/N POV:

I was back in His house. No, this was not possible. I had left him. I was with Yoongi now. Unless... that was all a dream. A nice, peaceful, cruel dream. It must have been. Why would an idol like him be soulmates with someone as broken as me? Why would I be lucky enough to have seven soulmates? I looked down at myself. I was wearing a familiar red cocktail dress. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah I knew that dress would look beautiful on you.” A voice came from behind me, making me jump. I gulped as I turned around and saw Him stood in front of me. He scoffed. “Is that how you greet your boyfriend on your anniversary party?” He asked. He moved closer to me and raised his hand to slap me across the face. “Now, greet me properly, you dumb bitch.”

“Happy anniversary, Jackson.” I said quietly. He grabbed hold of my jaw, his fingers digging in hard. 

“Hmm, happy anniversary to you too.” He kissed me, instantly slipping his tongue into my mouth. “Now go and greet our guests and offer them some refreshments.” He ordered, smacking my ass. I nodded and left the room to go to the kitchen, grabbing the tray with the champagne flutes.

I walked over to the first group of people, realizing them to be some of Jackson’s friends from work. “Hello, thank you so much for coming.” I said with a smile. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Ah, hello darling. Thank you for the invite.” One of his colleagues, Yugyeom, said with a smile. “Happy anniversary to you and Jackson. He was very excited about your present today.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be a very good present.” I smiled, as they all took a glass. “I’ll see you all later at dinner.” I bowed as I walked away to the next group of people. Soon the glasses of champagne were replaced with red wine as dinner loomed nearer. 

“Y/N, come here a second.” Jackson called me over. I carefully walked over, ensuring I did not trip and spill the red wine on anything otherwise it would stain and Jackson would get mad at me. “Is the dinner ready to be served yet?”

“The cook said it would be another five minutes. They are just plating everything. They’ll come and ring the bell when it’s time for everyone to be seated.” Just after I spoke, one of the cooks came out and rang the bell, indicating it was time to eat. “It’s ready now, I guess.”

“I didn’t realize.” Jackson rolled his eyes and pushed past me, causing me to spill the red wine all over his white suit jacket. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Jackson, it was an accident.” I said quickly. He grabbed hold of my wrist and squeezed tightly.

“You will put down that tray and then follow me upstairs. Say you are going to help me with my jacket if anyone asks.” He said slowly, his eyes blazing with anger. I nodded timidly and set down the tray, following him out of the room.

Upstairs, he took off his jacket and turned to face me, clicking his knuckles as he tilted his head to the side, watching me like I was his prey. My heart began to hammer in my chest as I glanced up at him.

“I didn’t say you could look at me.” He said, making me look down at my feet. “Get on your knees you little bitch and apologize for ruining my expensive suit!” He shouted, shoving me down.

“I’m sorry for spilling wine on your jacket, Jackson, I am clumsy and lost my footing on the way back to the kitchen. I will make sure it never happens again. Please don’t hurt me.”

“You’re damn right it won’t.” He said. “Now...” I heard his belt unbuckle and him pull out through the loops in his trousers. “You’re going to take your punishment and then you’re going to stay up here. You don’t deserve to eat. You need to earn it.” I heard him fold the belt and felt him pull down the straps of my dress. 

I yelped as the belt hit my shoulder. He was holding it with the buckle in his hand, but I knew that would change. There was another hit, and then another. He continued until I was begging him to stop.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me.” I cried. He just scoffed and paused while he readjusted his grip before hitting me again, this time with the belt buckle. I felt it rip my skin open as it made contact and felt the hot blood trickle down my back. He hit me another ten times before he threw the belt on the bed and knelt down in front of me.

“Now, stay up here and don’t make a sound. I’m going to lock the door behind me so you don’t even try to get out.” He grabbed hold of my hair and pulled me up, making me cry out in pain. “Go do whatever you want with yourself. I don’t care.” He threw me into the corner of the room, leaving me crying and broken. I curled up in the corner, letting the tears roll down my face. I wasn’t going to be able to last much longer in this environment. I had to try and get out, whether that be I run away or end everything. 

Why did my mind have to grace me with such a cruel yet calming dream? Why could I not be there? I knew that was how I was supposed to be treated in a relationship, but there was the fear of no one wanting me ever again with all my emotional baggage.

I let my brain drift away and shut down slightly to drown out the pain of the wounds on my back. I could hear faint voices, singing one of my favorite songs that would calm me down.

허공을 떠도는 작은 먼지처럼, 작은 먼지처럼 날리는 눈이 나라면 조금 더 빨리 네게 닿을 수 있을 텐데

눈꽃이 떨어져요 또 조금씩 멀어져요 보고 싶다 (보고 싶다) 보고 싶다 (보고 싶다) 얼마나 기다려야 또 몇 밤을 더 새워야 널 보게 될까 (널 보게 될까) 만나게 될까 (만나게 될까, ooh-ooh-ooh)

추운 겨울 끝을 지나 다시 봄날이 올 때까지 꽃 피울 때까지 그곳에 좀 더 머물러줘, 머물러줘

Translation:

Like the tiny dust, tiny dust floating in the air Will I get to you a little faster If I was the snow in the air

Snowflakes fall down And get farther away little by little I miss you (I miss you) I miss you (I miss you) How long do I have to wait And how many sleepless nights do I have to spend To see you (to see you) To meet you (to meet you)

Passing by the edge of the cold winter Until the days of spring Until the days of flower blossoms Please stay, please stay there a little longer

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” I heard someone call out to me. It sounded like Jimin. Was my brain really tricking me again?

“It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.” I murmured to myself.

“No, princess, this is real. We are real.” Jimin said gently. “Come on, come back to me. To us. You’re stuck inside your mind. Just listen to my voice.” I could feel a hand on my shoulder and voices talking to me. My vision began to become fuzzy and then clear. I was back in Yoongi’s apartment. This was real. That was just a memory. A horrible memory.

“Jimin.” I cried out before dissolving into tears in his arms. “It was him. It was Jackson. I was back with him. I didn’t mean to spill the wine. It was an accident.”

He pulled me onto his lap. “You are okay. You’re safe. I’m here with you. Jungkook is here with you. Jin is here with you. Taehyung is here with you. We’re all here with you.” He rocked me gently from side to side, his hands rubbing a soothing rhythm on my back.

“Please don’t let him hurt me again.” I sobbed.

“Hey, shh, don’t cry, princess.” Jimin said, his voice cracking slightly. Was he crying? “I can’t stand it when you cry.” He admitted. “It breaks my heart.”

“Sweetheart, can you tell us what happened?” Jin asked, taking hold of my hand.

“I...” I sniffed, rubbing my eyes. “I’m not sure what happened. All I know is Yoongi raised his voice and made an action like he was about to hit something and then I was back there.” I took a deep breath to try and calm myself down. “It was strange. It was like I was reliving the past with no memory of what happened during that time, but I remembered all of you. I thought this was all just a dream.”

“This is not a dream.” Taehyung said gently, still keeping his distance. “But I’m slightly confused. Who’s Jackson?”

“Jackson is my abusive ex who I had run away from the night I met Yoongi.” I replied. “I don’t really like to talk about him because he caused some of the darkest moments in my life.”

“He sounds horrible. I’m glad you got away and found us.” Taehyung said.

I smiled at him. “I’m glad too.” I turned to look at Jungkook who was sat facing the wall. “Koo? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Jungkook said, wiping his eyes quickly with his sleeve.

“No, you’re not.” I got off of Jimin’s lap and knelt down in front of him. “Why are you crying?”

“I was scared we had lost you. I was scared you had gone to a really dark place and were not going to be able to get out of it. It was so painful to watch.” He said quietly. “But you’re okay now, so I’ll be okay too.” He leaned down and kissed my lips gently. “I’ll always be okay if you are okay.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. I turned and saw Taehyung stood there awkwardly still. It was strange. I looked at him and in that moment I understood why he had said everything he had said. He was just scared and wasn’t sure how to deal with it, like I was. He dealt with his fear in a way he saw best, as did I, even if we were both wrong. “Tae.”

He looked at me and hummed. “What’s wrong? Do you guys need some privacy because I can go if you need me to.”

“No, Tae, I just wanted to say that I forgive you. I understand why you did what you did. You were like me, sort of. We were both scared of the situations we found ourselves in and the ways we dealt with it, no matter how bad they seem now, were what we thought was right at the time.”

“Do you... do you mean that?” He asked. I nodded, causing a boxy smile to form on his face. “Thank you. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!” He pulled me into a hug, his tall frame completely enveloping mine.

“I think you have a few other competitors for that title.” I laughed, making him shrug.

“I don’t see them as competition.” There was a knock at the door, making us move apart.

“Who is it?” Jin called.

“It’s Yoongi. Can I come in? Please, I need to see her.” I heard Yoongi’s muffled voice say from behind the door. Jimin looked over to me. I looked between him and the door, trying to decide what to do. 

“I...” I trailed off. He did shout at me and cause me to have a flashback for the first time, but that was not his fault. “Let him in.”

“Are you sure, darling?” Taehyung asked. I nodded. 

“I have you four, don’t I?” I said. “My four protectors.”

“Your four protectors.” Taehyung confirmed, hugging me from behind and resting his chin on the top of my head. I sat down on the bed and Jimin looked at me once more before opening the door.

“Princess.” Yoongi came over to me and knelt in front of me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you scared. I honestly didn’t know.” He said. His eyes were red and puffy. I could tell he had been crying.

“You caused her to have a flashback, Yoongi hyung.” Jimin said curtly.

“No.” Yoongi sat down on the floor in shock. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m such a terrible boyfriend. You should just reject me as your soulmate right now.” I looked at the other four, silently telling them to leave us alone. Jimin looked unsure, but allowed Taehyung to pull him out of the room.

“Yoongi, it was a mistake. You couldn’t have known. Even I didn’t know.” I said. “This is not your fault. It’s mine for having such a broken mind that it can’t even deal with a simple argument.” Yoongi looked up at me with a frown.

“Don’t you ever, ever say it is your fault. None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever say that, jagiya.” He said sternly, holding my hands.

“I forgive you, Yoon.” I said gently. “I will always forgive you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, jagiya. I’m so sorry.” He said, leaning up to connect our lips.

“Where are Hoseok and Namjoon?” I asked.

“I sent them off to get pizza and lots and lots of snacks.” He said. “You said you wanted a movie night, and so I’m going to give you the best movie night ever.” He flashed his gummy smile at me, making me fall in love with him even more, and feel the safest I have ever felt in my life. All of them did.

[tomurasprincess]

Is #37 still available for Katsuki Bakugou on the prompt list, if yes may I request for that. Thanks.

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader Quote: It’s your word over mine. Who do you think they’re going to believe? Warnings: noncon, degradation, forced orgasm, office sex, victim blaming, blackmail, yandere

Prompt Masterlist

You glance at the clock and mentally sigh to yourself at the time. You’re having to stay late at the office yet again because of the incompetence of your boss. You love working at Endeavor Hero Agency, you really do. It was very prestigious and well respected, and it would serve you well to continue to make connections in the hero world.

But your boss, even with using the most generous terms possible, could only be described as lazy and entitled. He hated doing his own paperwork and filing, and would in fact make up excuses for why he couldn’t. Excuses that usually led to everything being dumped on your lap.

You head back into the file room with your cup of coffee, mentally preparing yourself for a long and boring night stuck in the office, when you hear the door click back open. You feel a slight edge of anxiety, as nobody else should really be here at this hour.

“Well then, what do we have here?” You hear a deep chuckle and loud footsteps as someone walks to your section of the file room. “A cute little secretary staying late?”

You turn around, only to freeze when you see that the source of the voice is pro hero Katsuki Bakugou. You have heard stories about him, about his temper and potential for being mean to others. You’ve even met him a few times, but it was only quick, chance meetings in the office. Still long enough for you to believe the stories you heard about him.

He has a known temper, and you really want to get out of this room without making him mad. You try to subtly look around the room for an escape route, but he instantly notices.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to fucking leave already? After I just got here?” He smirks when he notices the fear in your face and sees you backing away from him. His smirk only grows wider when you reach the end of the room, back to a file cabinet. He strides forward, placing a hand on each side of your head as he leans in.

“I - I really need to get to work” you stammer, “I have a lot that I need to get taken care of before I go home.”

He pins you to the wall with his hips, grinding a noticeably hard bulge against your pelvis. “And I think I have something that needs taken care of, you little slut.”

You suck in a sharp breath of air, not able to comprehend where this is coming from. “I’m not a slut, I’m just here to work!”

“If you’re not a slut, then why are you wearing this?” He slides a hand up your thigh, past your skirt and up to your panties. He dips a finger underneath the elastic, pulling it towards him until he lets go and it snaps back against your skin. “Wearing this skirt makes it look like you’re asking someone to bend you over and fuck you raw, right against this cabinet. Would you like that, princess?”

“Please no, I wouldn’t like that, I just want to go home,” you whimper in fear. “Just let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Wouldn’t matter if you did tell someone,” he snorts. “It’s your word over mine. Who do you think they’re going to believe? The fucking slutty secretary in the office begging to be pounded like a whore, or a top pro-hero?”

Your eyes widen in fear as a tear runs down your face. He’s right, and you know he’s right. No one would ever believe you over Bakugou, despite his sometimes less than savory reputation. “But why would you do that? You’re a hero.” You realize as soon as the words leave your mouth how naive they are.

He knows it too as he rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t play the innocent act, princess. I’ve seen you checking me out during the day, staring at my body like you want to rip my clothes off and ride me.” He flips your skirt up around your waist, sliding your panties down before picking them up. He takes them to his nose, sniffing deeply of the smell of your arousal. He lets out an arrogant laugh, showing you the clearly visible wet spot before taking the panties up to his nose and sniffing the smell of your arousal. “You fucking want this, you little slut. Bet you’ve been dying for me to be balls deep inside that tight little cunt of yours.”

He grabs your hips as he flips you around, forcing you back onto the file cabinet with your ass sticking out towards him. You hear the rustling of clothes before feeling the hot, hard length of him pressing against your entrance.

Reality hits you in a sudden wave. He’s going to do this. He’s really going to fuck you against these cabinets. You try to struggle, to push away from him, but you’re quickly discouraged from that notion when a large hand comes down hard on your ass.

“You’re going to take my cock like a good little slut, do you hear me?” When you don’t immediately answer, he lets out an angry snarl before smacking your ass again. This time, it burns even more, and you think you hear the distinct sound of him activating his quirk to make the pain even sharper. “Yes! I hear you, please don’t hurt me.”

“Just do what I ask and I won’t have to,” he grabs your hair as he forces your back to arch, leaning in to bite deeply into your neck. You think you feel his teeth pierce your skin, a fact which is confirmed when a few droplets of blood run down your throat. “Well, not much anyway,” he gives a sinister chuckle. “And I’ll make you feel good too, I promise.”

And with that, he begins to push inside of you. You figured you would be completely dry from his treatment of you, but instead you feel your juices leaking down on his cock to make it easier for him. “Can’t even act like you don’t want my cock, this little cunt is so fucking sloppy for me.”

He enters you slowly at first, before losing his restraint and thrusting all the way up to your cervix. You let out a choked cry as your tight muscles stretch around him, feeling every single inch deep inside of you. He barely waits for you to adjust, pounding into your pussy roughly with every thrust.

The wet sounds of your bodies joining fill the room, his balls slapping against your already throbbing clit, and you can’t stop a needy moan from leaving your mouth. Your pussy clenches down around him, and you hear him grunt at the sensation. “Fuckin knew it, you’re loving this, dirty little slut.”

He reaches around to find your clit, stroking it with quick, tight circles. The pleasure is building in you, causing your lower stomach to tighten up. Every movement is forcing you against the cabinet, causing your nipples to rub against the cold metal and only increasing the blur of sensations that are making you feel dizzy.

“Cum around this cock, slut, I wanna feel that tight cunt clamping down on me. Do it, cum for me.” You let out a choked whine as you struggle to disobey his command, not wanting to cum for the man ravaging your pussy. But it seems you will have no choice in this, either, because you feel the pressure building up inside of you, ready to burst. And when he changes his angle slightly, slamming into a particular spot inside, you let out a mewl as your walls pulse around his cock, orgasm hitting you hard.

“Such a good fuckin whore, shit, you got even tighter, holy fuck,” he groans deeply. “Gonna fill this pretty little cunt up with my cum.”

You begin to panic, pleas falling from your lips in sheer desperation. “Oh god, no, please not inside.”

He grunts as his pace stutters inside of you, gripping your hips to keep you from pulling away as he forces his cock all the way up to your cervix when he begins to cum. You feel his cock beginning to twitch, thick ropes of hot cum coating your inner walls white. You lean your heated forehead against the cold file cabinet as you let out a soft sob.

He waits until he’s fully emptied his balls inside of you before pulling out of your abused, sore cunt. You glance down at yourself, watching your combined fluids drip down onto the floor below you. You can’t even bring yourself to look at Bakugou, but he isn't having it. He grabs your chin as he forces you to look into his eyes.

“Here’s how this is going to work. From here on out, you fucking belong to me. You’re not going to tell anyone what happened, and you’re going to continue to stay late so I can use all of your holes as I fucking please. We clear?”

A few stray tears run down your face as you ask the question you know is going to be useless. “What if I say no?”

“You’re not going to say no, because I can make your life a living hell. Do you want that?”

You shake your head mutely.

“Then you understand me?”

You nod, not trusting your voice at the moment.

“Good. Then I’ll see you here tomorrow, same place, same time. I can’t fucking wait, princess.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @lady-bakuhoe, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93, @milojwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @league-of-thots, @shigaraki-is-my-master

[seita]

some coping mechanism are wrong and do need to be discussed or changed!! neurodivergency doesn’t give u an excuse to hurt or trigger others!! coping mechanisms don’t exist in vaccums... and you and ur followers are harming real people by saying such

i was going to ignore most everything i got on the subject because quite frankly i'm over it. every opposing take either doesn't make sense, is completely ignorant, or is just plain stupid.

this one? is just idiocy.

so i'm gonna take the time to explain some things to you.

i cannot begun to express the ignorance and privilege that is seeped into every single word of this ask. i am actually baffled that you genuinely thought that this was, in any way shape or form, okay. or that you even thought this was a hot take at all.

you do not have any jurisdiction or power to tell other people that the way they cope is wrong. that is so beyond disgusting.

do you know why people choose to write dark content to cope?

a few reasons that range from: gives power/comfort over their trauma to lets them release emotions that otherwise have no outlet.

beyond that is that some people don’t have the resources or support system needed to cope in other ways. all they may have is a pen and paper or a laptop. they may not live in a home where they were believed, they may still be trapped with their abuser, or they may just plain not be able to afford therapy.

but do you know what the fun thing is? plenty of these people who choose to cope in this way are advised by their therapists to do it. like myself.

i used to write in little notebooks as a child -- really dark, foul shit and i didn’t understand why i did it. i talked to my therapist and i was told it’s a great outlet! i have to say writing is probably one of the top reasons i managed to get to the space i am in today.

when i learned the wonders of the internet growing up, i also sought out to READ the content. of course, it was very hard to find because of people like you who do nothing but shame it simply because of the real world values the crimes possess and for some reason refuse to see it in a fictional, helpful way.

it’s a very real and very valid coping mechanism: both reading and writing are incredibly beneficial.

this outlet also helps people just the same as it can hurt people. i don’t know who or what you think you’re doing but survivors who are triggered by the content of a darker nature WILL NOT CLICK ON IT TO READ IT. why are you acting like survivors and victims are brainless, mindless idiots who will read something clearly labeled with their triggers as if there’s some invisible force dictating them too?

and who are you? a highschool student? a college student? a therapist? what right gives you, a random person on the internet, to dictate something that has been ADVISED and PROVEN to help with coping to trauma to deem it wrong?

im gonna go ahead and say your morality. nothing beyond that.

you see dark content as just disgusting porn fucked up people jerk off to but it’s beyond that. and very obviously something you do not understand and most likely refuse to understand.

you think because you think something is wrong that it should be wrong all around. you don’t like it so it shouldn’t be done.

i hate to break it to you but the real world isn’t going to cater to you. i sure as fuck won’t. i’m not in charge of making you feel happy or content on the internet. if you log on to your computer and expect people to babysit you and make you feel comforted and safe -- you’re doing the internet wrong.

you only choose to see the negative side to this. you see that people can be triggered or hurt by this content and that’s valid. people can and will be. but there’s also a HUGE number that people like you choose to ignore and invalidate under the guise of protecting survivors only to hurt them at the same time. it doesn’t make sense.

you’re not trying to advocate and protect people -- you’re trying to make the fandom and content match up to your puritan ideals and fantasies. the world isn’t like that. people are always going to do things you don’t like and have opposing opinions on things. stop trying to act like you’re doing this for the greater good -- a martyr, hero complex isn’t a cute look and we can see exactly what you’re doing.

i don’t understand why it’s so hard to accept that dark content does not have as big of a negative impact as you think it does.

i also don’t understand how other survivors can see what people like me do and tell us we’re wrong. i don’t go out of my way to shame you and say “oh you don’t like dark content? weird.” i mind my own fucking business and stay away from blogs that don’t want to interact with dark content writers.

i am respectful always. i never attack people for having opposing opinions. i never attack people personally. people who write dark content don’t do that shit.

you know who does?

your side.

you know what someone said to me in an effort to shame me and bully me for writing what i write? they called my writing shit -- the thing i use to cope and help other cope. i’ve never gone on anon or off anon and told someone their writing was shit.

i also had someone ask me why i think being a victim made me special. i’m gonna let you sit and figure out exactly what is wrong with that question.

those are the types of people you’re enabling and encouraging. if you people just left dark writers alone we wouldn’t hurt anyone. you all preach this shit about how dark content is SOOOOO easily availble anyone can read it. that is false. the only way to find dark content is to ALREADY BE ASSOCIATING WITH PEOPLE WHO CREATE OR CONSUME DARK CONTENT. it’s not tagged in the main tags. it will not show up in your orbit or be blasted on your page because someone posted it.

and then you people say “oh minors will be convinced it’s okay!!!” no. minors aren’t as stupid as you seem to think they are. they fully know and understand exactly what they’re getting into. they see the word rape and know in real life THAT’S BAD.

you don’t want a slasher film and think  “oh wow look at him killin all those people but not getting caught I COULD DO THAT TOO!!!!” no. you don’t. because you know it’s wrong.

y’all are so high up on you moral horse that you think everyone around you is fucking stupid and has no common sense.

if someone thinks what they read in fiction makes it okay in real life, there was already something wrong with them to begin with.

but no, you’ll pull out anything on earth to try and get your point across. from secondhand trauma to it just being offensive.

and i hate to be the one to tell you this but...all this crusading is doing basically nothing in the long run. you know what happened yesterday from being called out? i lost 9 followers.

and then i gained 20. and now im only 100 away from 16,000.

what did all of this achieve? what does any of this even do?

whenever you people do this what exactly is it you want? do you expect us to just...stop...because you don’t like it? are you really so self-centered and self-righteous that you think you’re THAT important. do you really believe your opinion and voice is the loudest and most important to consider?

because it really isn’t.

just as you’re sitting here telling me you’re wanting to protect people -- i’m wanting to help people. do you know how many people i’ve had thank me for making them feel better about their owwn fantasies that they’d previously been ashamed of because they’re a victim? or how many people thank me for providing the content they rely on to cope?

i’m gonna go ahead and say those are the people i want to help. those are the people i care about. and i don’t know what it’s gonna take for you people to understand that i will not stop until i DECIDE to.

this is the internet. none of your opinions or words have any long-lasting, realistic effect on me, my person, or my life. i could delete my blog and in a month nothing any of you have said to me over this course of time will have impacted me in the long term. of course, other people are more sensitive and can get hurt by this discourse.

but i don’t. i’m a lot more stubborn and thick-skinned than you people may seem to realize.

your words will continue to go in one ear and out the other. i know where i stand. i know where i want to remain.

your morality nor your opinions are blanket rules that everyone should abide by. get some perspective and learn your place in the world before speaking on things you clearly cannot understand.

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      

Chapter 23 - The bachelor challenge. 

Episode 1. Akin: You had no right to take off like that! You have absolutely no clue what the hell you put us all through! We were all sleepless for days! And that wasn't just after you left! Before that as well! You act as if you're the only one who has ever lost love! You forget I lost the same person what feels like a million times, yet I never took off and left people to worry what had happened to me! And btw he is back and alive and well, and he misses you! He stops by my office once a week at least to ask about you! And still you stay away based on some low value excuses that he doesn't love you or that he will end up with another boy in the end, a boy whom you by the way also love, so would it really be such a terrible matter if you all three ended up together?!?! You're acting like an entitled spoiled brat! And it's about time you grow up if you want to have any partners left! I sure as hell can't go through a second round of this petty drama, so get over it!!! *He walked off fast and determined, not looking back*

Raven: *He frowned deep from the spot where he was sitting in the grass, observing Akin as he disappeared around the small castle where he lived with his brothers, but before he could figure what to do, he heard foot steps behind him and turned slightly to see who it was, expecting it to be one of his brothers* Evan: *He forced a soft smile* Raven: *He sighed soft and shook his head* If you have come to yell at me as well, can we just please skip it? I'm not in the mood for it. I already had enough of it from Akin. Evan: I didn't plan to yell. *He answered in a soft voice and sat down next to Raven with a soft sigh* I thought I would come here to tell you how much I missed you, and I'm very relieved you are safe, unharmed and back. Raven: *He sighed deep* You mean that? Evan: *He nodded soft, sat down next to him and reached out, grabbing one of Raven's hands, stroking it gently with his thumb* Yes, I mean it. Why wouldn't I? Raven: *He sighed deeper* Well since I came back I have just had a lot of yelling at me... I was starting to think I shouldn't have come back at all... Evan: ....... you know, people yell because they love you, and they don't know how else to let their frustrations out. Raven: I know. I fully understand that. It's just not the easiest to carry when your plate is already more than full. Which was the whole reason I left to begin with. I couldn't handle more... I still can't... yet abuse is being constantly yelled at me. Evan: *He nodded soft, deciding not to speak, in order to give Raven as much free space as possible to talk* Raven: *He sighed deep and looked at the lake ahead of them* Sometimes I feel it would be easiest for everyone, if I had never been born to begin with. Even my dad says he should have taken care of it when he found out my mom was pregnant. Perhaps the only right thing to do would be to go back in time to the day where she announced her pregnancy, and take care of it myse- Evan: No! *He quickly leaned in and wrapped his arms tight around Raven* That's definitely not the solution. Raven: *He quickly wrapped his arms around Evan as well, gently digging his nails into Evan's back* I know... but the thought still pops in from time to time. Evan: Please don't ever listen to it. Raven: *He sighed deep* Quite honestly, I don't want to die, Evan. Not even one bit. At least not anymore. But it's hard not to think in that direction when everyone around you either make it clear you should never have been born, cause all you are is a poisonous puddle in their life... or make it clear that you are only trouble and hurt. Evan: You are none of those things to me. To me you are something very positive, you have never hurt me, although you have definitely scared me. And you are something I very much miss when you suddenly drop from the face of the earth. You're someone I really wouldn't want to lose *he squeezed Raven a little tighter* you're very valuable to me, and I love you very much. More than you can imagine. Raven: *He sighed soft, Evan's words were very much longed for and needed* I love you too, Evan, very much, in fact. Evan: *He sighed relieved and stroke Raven's back* Then please, don't do anything like that.... Raven: I wont. I promise. Evan: Thank you *he planted a soft kiss on the side of Raven's neck, his lips lingering a bit against the skin, as he enjoyed the strong buzzing sensation it brought him, mixed with the scent of Raven it felt overwhelmingly pleasant, like coming home from a long day at work and jumping into fresh soft sheets. His lips slowly stated kissing up Raven's neck, over his jawline, and without hesitation found their way to Raven's lips* Raven: *A soft sigh of pleasure escaped him as their lips connected, and he returned the kiss with longing and relief* Evan: *A soft moan escaped him as he felt Raven answer the kiss, and before they knew, they tumbled into the tall grass, in a soft and sweet makeout session* Raven: *He cleared his voice after a while, a soft, almost shy chuckle as he slightly pulled away from Evan* Sorry.... I'm just not mentally in THAT mood right now, although my body is certainly starting to wake up... so can we please pause it here? Evan: *He nodded soft* Yes, of course *he observed Raven with a loving smile* I just missed you, and I'm thankful you're here... that's all. Raven: *He sighed soft and relieved rolling to his back so he could look up at the clouds above them. It was a more or less cloud free day, blue sky and it was somewhat warm for this time of year. They laid quiet for a while, just holding hands, before he spoke again* Do you think he's gonna stay mad for a long time? Evan: He isn't mad. As a matter of fact he was one of the people defending you and your actions the most. He was also the most worried of us all, which I suppose is the reason he burst like that. Maybe it wouldn't be bad if you go find him and try to talk to him? Raven: *He nodded soft* and get my head ripped off again?! Evan: It will grow back *he chuckled soft* Raven: *He couldn't help but chuckle as well, then sat up quickly* Fine... I'll be the bigger man... again Evan: *He chuckled soft* Good, someone has to. And we both know how stubborn he gets, so if you wait for him to come around, you might wait for a very long time. Raven: *He took a deep breath, then leaned in and gave Evan a soft kiss* I'll try to catch up with you soon. Stick around if you want to... Andy and Ronan is somewhere on the first floor, and I think Eonan is in the kitchen. Evan: *He nodded soft* I will stay here, enjoy the weather for a bit, then go explore. Raven: *He nodded confirming, kissed Evan again, and then he was gone* Akin: *He sat quiet in Raven's room, on one of his couches, sipping a glass of Whiskey as suddenly Raven stood in front of him. He looked up at him, but said nothing, his face locked in a serious frown* Raven: I'm sorry *he spoke in a defeated voice, a soft sigh escaping him* I'm sorry I scared you and I'm sorry I got so far down that I saw no other options. I'm sorry I didn't speak to you and that I disappeared for so long, but most of all I'm sorry that you have to be such a little bitch about it! *he smirked* Akin: ........ *he couldn't help but snort* you're- Raven: A brat, I know, you covered that *he sighed soft and walked closer, sitting down on Akin's lap* but that makes you a brat lover... which is worse? Akin: *He tilted his head, thinking a bit* You got me there *he slowly wrapped his arms around Raven, placing the glass on the table, then buried his face in Raven's shoulder and hair, taking a deep breath of him, squeezing him so tight it almost hurt them both* Raven: Evan told me.... Akin: Told you what? *he mumbled into Raven's hair* Raven: That you were the one who both worried the most and defended me the most.... Akin: *He chuckled soft, then slowly let go of Raven, and straightened up to face him* I hate to burst that little bubble, but as much as I did worry and did defend you, I was also the only on that was quite certain you would eventually be back. I put a lot more faith in you than you might think I do. Evan, was in fact the one who worried the most and defended you the most, to the point where he got into a literal fight with your dad and several people, including myself had to separate them. He worried so much that he barely left the castle for weeks, wanting to be as close to your family as possible, in case there were any news. He barely ate for a long time, and he was constantly sleep deprived cause he kept sticking his nose in old dusty books, trying to find a solution among pages he barely understood. Raven: *He looked at Akin with surprised eyes* Akin: He loves you very deeply, Raven. Well... so do the rest of us *he smiled soft* and I DID worry a lot, more than I ever did before, but something in my heart made me sure you would resurface eventually. I had to hang onto that, or I would have ended up like Evan. He took it pretty bad, surprisingly worse than Andy even. Raven: *His look turned more baffled now* Akin: What? You look so surprised? Raven: ..... yeah... I mean, I knew he loves me... but.... I always thought it was a bit more casual from his side? Akin: Evan doesn't do casual love, Raven. When Evan loves someone, there's no question he's fully invested with his heart and soul. Raven: *he nodded soft and slow, his thoughts trailing off* Akin: .... what now? Raven: ....... Akin:........ Raven? Raven: *He looked at Akin with a soft frown* I think... shit... is it okay if I take off again? I mean... there's... I think... I gotta- Akin: *He chuckled soft* If it's Evan you are aiming for, sure, go ahead... I'll go find your brothers, see if I can make myself useful around here... but, when you're done with him, I'd love if there would be a bit of time for me as well? *he forced a soft smile* Raven: Of course *he smiled soft and wrapped his arms around Akin's neck, as he leaned in, kissing him tenderly* I love you Akin: I love you too... you brat! Raven: *He chuckled soft* Mmhh yeah, I definitely have to go, cause somehow you're making me horny now Akin: *He lifted an eyebrow questioning* from calling you a brat? Raven: Apparently? Akin: *He laughed warmly* Get out of here! Raven: *He couldn't help but laugh* Hey hey! It's MY room! Akin: Ohhh shut up you brat! Raven: *He chuckled soft as he leaned in and kissed Akin again, then disappeared*

[nibeul]

i’d love to hear your thoughts on qui gon?

Alright, this is the second part of answering that I mentioned earlier so I’m just gonna.. go into a breakdown of Qui Gon’s character and how I view him.

I haven’t fully watched the Phantom Menace since I was a kid (10-ish years ago), so I wouldn’t say take my word as gospel. I have, however, recently touched up on some other material to refresh my memory and I’ve also rewatched some of the scenes, so I think I have a firm enough understanding of his character to discuss it. Anyways, let me actually get to my breakdown.

Qui Gon is a weak character. Not in the sense that he’s physically weak, but in the sense that he lacks depth and we only see him onscreen for one movie before he kicks the bucket. Maybe it’s thanks to the fact that they only had one movie to make an interesting character which is why he fell flat (for me at least), but I’ve seen single movies do much better in the character development area, so it’s a bit of an iffy excuse. Regardless, looking at the Phantom Menace from start to finish, I think the first thing that comes to my attention is the fact that Qui Gon doesn’t change.

Why is that a bad thing? Well, ok, nobody changes overnight, we know this. And some people don’t change at all, aren’t open to it, but we know refusing to keep an open mind is detrimental. The thing with Qui Gon is that he doesn’t change because he refuses to see outside of himself, and this isn’t put into a negative light either. To be honest, I am unsure if Lucas was trying to paint Qui Gon as an objectively “good person” or “bad person” (Liam Neeson himself is deplorable, but that’s not my point at the moment). Of course, it isn’t just black and white, but I feel there is a certain way that “morally grey” characters should be done (it is broad, because you will still have nuance in that gray area) and Qui Gon does not really.. fit. He seems like someone who is meant to be seen as a likable character but he just isn’t.

Qui Gon clashing with the Council in itself isn’t bad. My character, Ko, harbors a strong dislike for the Council and I think it is an interesting point to explore, the difference between various Jedi and their relationship with the Council. That being said, when it leads to direct butting heads without progress and/or a willingness to see the other side, it becomes less of a “difference in opinion” and more of a “overgrown man child refuses to look past his own beliefs”. And don’t get me wrong, I have my own problems with how the Council functions, but the way Qui Gon handles it is pisspoor.

Going onto my next point, Qui Gon is very manipulative. I mean, Obi Wan had to get it from somewhere (and I would not entirely say that Obi Wan is a manipulative person, but he is not above using manipulation), but if we look at how Qui Gon interacts with Shmi (along with Padmé and the rest of the handmaidens), he takes advantage of his charisma in order to establish himself in her family setting. He knows that he isn’t going to free her—which actually leads into the whole problem of the Jedi ignoring the slave trade in general, but once again, not something I am going to delve into here—which is why he needs to show himself as someone who can be a “father figure” to Anakin in order to effectively distance him from her. Anakin doesn’t get the choice of being a Jedi; it’s either that or he remains enslaved.

He views people as tools. If we breakdown his relationship with the Force, it can basically be summed up as “he believes it will guide everything that happens” (which actually reminds me of very religious people who attribute everything to their Maker) to a point where he isn’t really.. putting in the effort to get there. For example, he does not worry himself with figuring out a way to get off Tatooine because he thinks that the Force will sort that out for him. With Anakin, he believes that the Force has led Anakin to him so that Qui Gon can train the kid. His freeing of Anakin does not come from a place of good will, but more so the fact that he thinks the Force is telling him to.

This also bleeds into him betting on podraces and loaded die, which also ties into the fact that he knew he wasn’t going to free Shmi. Once again, he is not freeing Anakin because he believes that them being enslaved is wrong (in fact, earlier he states that he is not going to free them), but because he believes the Force is telling him that he needs to train Anakin. He tells Anakin that he is the chosen one—I mean, imagine the weight of that status on a child? I honestly believe that if anyone but Qui Gon had found Anakin, like Plo Koon for example, things would have gone differently. Anakin did not need that weight on his shoulders at such a young age—and views him as that. He makes it clear when he is speaking to the Council.

Which becomes another thing where he literally brushes off the fact that he already has a Padawan. He is very willing to toss Obi Wan aside in favor of training Anakin, and he states so with indifference. This ties back to an earlier part in the movie where he says something along the lines of “stop focusing on the future, focus on the present” because, thanks to his inability to think about the future for just a moment, he has condemned his Padawan and put himself in a predicament that is the result of him getting caught up in the moment. His blind trust in the force does not account for the actions and opinions of others, nor does it account for the fact that he still needs to treat things with tact/put the effort in himself.

Then, kind of looping back a little bit to my statement about how he views Anakin, he does not bring up Anakin’s former life to the council (if I remember correctly Anyways). It is just “this boy is the chosen one. He needs to be trained”. This also ties into my earlier points about how he refuses to see issues outside of his own, and how he is very “it has to be my way”. He has tunnel vision; he does not see outside of that. There is a reason that Xanatos fell, and it is not just because of Xanatos’s own actions. Yet, even after having a Padawan that has fallen, Qui Gon does not change his ways. Yoda guides him to Obi Wan as an attempt to heal Qui Gon, and I can only imagine the emotional stress that would put on a literal child.

Running off this point, the most insight we see of Qui Gon (?) is through Obi Wan/how Obi Wan sees him. Because Obi Wan grieves for Qui Gon, we are sympathetic for him, yet Qui Gon abuses Obi Wan’s attachment to him in order to ensure that Anakin is trained. Obi Wan should not have been taking on a Padawan at that age, certainly not when he had just been knighted, yet he does because of Qui Gon. It’s deeply problematic, and while I do thoroughly enjoy watching Anakin and Obi Wan interact, Anakin needed a parental figure, not a brother.

So that is my brief? Analysis of Qui Gon’s character and how I specifically view him. I went more into why I personally dislike him since that is what I had talked about before, but also because if I am being honest, his negative traits outweigh this redeeming qualities. Anyways, I am going to create a tag for my general Star Wars thoughts since I have made a couple of posts and it is probably time I organize a little bit.