#and sometimes people cling to each other because they’re family and they care. and they’re not mutually exclusive but th

[louisironson]

the thing about succession is i swear 50% of the time people are going “this is so sick and fucked up” and then it’s how families are. and then the other 50% of the time it’s people going “this is just how families are” and it’s like. no i need you to understand that this is so sick and fucked up

[adelheidvonschicksal]

JJK crew with Fem sweet S/O who’s been heavily abused verbally and sometimes physically by her relatives, the only family she has left. They make her do chores and they make her sleep outside in a tent. She feels like she owes them for taking her in so despite being hurt and malnourished, she does whatever they say. JJK crew including Gojo, Itadori, Megumi, Nobara, and anyone else in mind?

A/N: Honestly, the majority of the students are throwing either hands or words. I combined two requests because I felt like I would’ve been repeating myself otherwise, and the requests share more similarities than not so smoosh! The main difference was the second request asked for a reader immuned to cursed techniques because their family would curse them out of jealousy and for being mixed/hafu. I also tried to focus more on the reaction than the actual abuse.

Tags: non-graphic abuse mentions, hurt/comfort, fem!reader

•---------•

Maki

Maki has seen this story before – the hateful stares and the mocking laughter, stepping down on even the smallest hope to dream. Being told again and again how useless you were, how worthless, that clinging to dreams, wanting more was all pointless.

When you reveal that the reason you’re so strong is because others made you feel weak, she encourages you. “Then, prove them wrong. You don’t have to live your life the way others believe you should.”

She tries to get you to speak up more, not necessarily to your family but about everything. You’re a kind person and quiet but she feels like you never truly speak your mind, wanting to please everyone.

Whenever she sees someone trying to berate or annoy you, she’s quick to ask why they’re fine talking down to you in private and not in front of her. She may never say it out loud but she’s a bit overprotective of the people she likes.

She eventually offers you a choice: when she takes over her clan, you should join her in building a place where you both can be accepted.

Geto

He’s intuitive to tell you don’t like your clan. The few times he’s met them, they weren’t the politest to him either since he comes from a non-sorcerer family but it’s still strange that they treat a total stranger way better than their own clan member. It clicks more when you explain he’s “pureblood” and you’re not, so they like you even less.

He becomes a bit more protective of you after that, inviting you to hang out with him since you two non-sorcerer blooded people should stick together. It seems to take some of your apprehension away.

It still makes him angry to think about though, even more frustrated whenever your other clan members ignore his speeches on how you’re all sorcerers and that they should treat each other with more care.

They obviously don’t appreciate it, but you do. So, his main goal is to at least make you feel better about the situation through little jokes here and there and trying to convince you that you shouldn’t worry about them because the school can be your family now.

He knows it doesn’t completely fix everything, but he hopes you can see that at least the rest of them care about you.  

Megumi

Like Geto, he can tell beforehand that you’re uncomfortable talking about your family. You get the same look he does when someone new accidentally asks him about his family, both his father and his connection with the Zen’in clan.

Megumi always figures it’s not in his place to ask, when you’re ready to talk about it, you will. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t really become an issue until he sees you actually interact with your family, and how nasty they could be with you, overtly and the disgustingly passive, micro-aggressive way that only old family lines could pull off.

As much as you hate how your family treats you and as much as you hate explaining it to him, you’re more worried that telling others will make them realize that you’re no good and that the other students wouldn’t want to be your friends anymore if they found out about your status and the fact half your family weren’t from here, let alone sorcerers, which is a big reason why you never shared the information.

Megumi doesn’t really care about what most people think especially people who he considers trash. You’re sweet and kind, and that’s really all that matters to him, so you shouldn’t think that he nor the others wouldn’t be your friend because of your birth.

He has no problem telling your nosier cousins that he’s friends with you because he thinks you’re the most outstanding member of your clan—only when asked though.

He will never give you the time to question him or to doubt your relationship together. Any “buts” or “Megumi—” about you not wanting to bring him into your family life or to try to distance yourself is met with “Don’t care” or “No,” to shut down that line of thoughts.

It becomes a little more common for you to spend the night over in his dorm instead of going home at night but he’s still working on convincing you to give up your family entirely like he did.

Gojo

Gojo keeps trying to wiggle himself in your life any chance he gets. He really likes meeting new people especially during high school, you’re included in that when you join his second year.

Unfortunately, you don’t like him for some reason, you don’t like him. You keep avoiding him and barely talk to him, and it’s killing him to know why. Because who could hate him?

It takes a long time of poking at you (your sides specifically) and teasing you to finally get you to admit that your family told you not to talk to him, not to draw his attention, don’t so much as breathe near him. Because you should be lucky to go to the same school as a member of the Gojo Clan, let alone THE heir, and that you shouldn’t be a burden to him.

“Oh, is that right?” Once you tell him your clan’s name (the name you couldn’t use because they didn’t want you representing them) then he fully understands. He knows them well enough.

He immediately wants to go to your house. He wants to visit, in fact Suguru should go! And why not Shoko, too? He’s going to live up the royal treatment from your folks, even as you protest for him not to go. Maybe he’ll ask for all the good drinks and put his feet up on their fancy table?

But why not? He just wants to talk to them and tell them about his new best friend in the world: you. He wants to tell them how he’s so happy how well they treat his adorable little underclassman. And, oh, your room is so tiny, smaller than his walk-in closet, and there’s nothing in there, almost like they only now remember the room exists since he asked about your room. Haven’t they ever thought about getting you a bigger space? Oh, they were planning to let you move into the guest room? Great idea! Wow, then you’re definitely going to need some new clothes to fill that nice new closet, he’ll have to send some. And it’d be rude if he sees someone else in the clothes his clan gifted specifically for you, huh?

When asked why he decided to do that, he says he already told you why: you’re his cute little underclassman.

And he always treats you as such too. Always buying you things to take home and pampering you. Always inviting you out to eat with him and telling you to eat up because he can’t finish it all by himself, and that pretty girls should eat a lot and that you should try every dessert at a new bakery with him.

He constantly asks about your family life now too, to make sure you’re still doing okay, and that when you graduate you should leave them because you don’t owe them anything for being a child who needed help.

Nobara

She’s seeing red when she sees you hurt or when she sees you cry. Society already treats women so awful, and it hurts seeing you be treated evilly by people who are supposed to care about you.

There’s no stopping her when she puts her mind to something. Normally, you could convince her not to retaliate against your family but when she sees any mark on you it’s the last straw.

She’s going to gather your things and kick over that stupid excuse for a “room” they’ve given you and bring you with her. She doesn’t care if she has to share her small space with you as long as you’re safe. She’s sure Gojo can get a new dorm ready for you in no time flat, so it isn’t even a big deal to be sharing a bed for a little while with you.

It feels warm and safe in her hold, and she doesn’t forget to ever tell you how much she loves you and how wonderful a person you are, that she admires you for always being so kind despite your upbringing.

She isn’t afraid to tell you that you don’t owe those people shit while also promising to take you out for new clothes and something to eat. The guilt eats at her for not protecting you sooner, and it makes her want to punch the wall every time she’d think of how dizzy you would get somedays. She had her suspicions but didn’t trust her gut. She promises herself not to make that mistake again.

Anytime you need to do anything with your family, she makes you promise to tell her and let her come with you or one of the others.

Itadori

You manage to pull the wool over his eyes for longer than you expected. You tell him that your family means well and that it’s tough love. Itadori understands that to a small degree. His grandpa was a little ornery, but Itadori always could tell that his grandpa loved him. Megumi can be a bit abrasive, but Itadori can tell Megumi cares about them. With your family, he doesn’t get that vibe.

It’s even worse than he thinks when he finally hears from your own mouth what’s going on, so much that he wants to cry for you because you won’t do it for yourself because you’ve gotten so used to the treatment that even your own body adapted, all because you feel like you can’t be ungrateful and leave your family.

He’ll do the best that he can to help, assisting you in running your errands so that you can have a break, but he still feels so lost because even if he wanted to fight them, he can’t attack an entire clan, and he doesn’t have the weight to do something about it himself especially when you beg him to keep between the two of you.

He’s trying so desperately to convince you that none of your home life is normal while you bury down that fact that you know he’s right.

Itadori quickly makes it one of his ultimate goals to save you like he wants to do with everyone else he meets. Sure, he can’t save everyone, and sure, he can’t exactly get rid of Sukuna just yet, but you’re right here in front of him, and he should be able to save you because he loves you.

•---------•

P.S.A. Please remember to reach out to someone if you’re undergoing any type of abusive situations from family members or other domestic partners, or if you suspect someone is going through those things.

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 3: Cursed Creatures

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas

Note: This is not at all how I thought this chapter would start. Alas, I am riddled with religious trauma, and Taylor Swift just released the song “Guilty as Sin?” I mean… “My boredom’s bone-deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks, Throwing my life to the WOLVES” Are you kidding me? It’s perfect. So this started out differently than I planned. But what was I to do? I am just a girl.

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There were many topics on which you had been educated in-depth but were never supposed to experience first-hand.

Sex was one of those topics.

You knew the mechanics of it. The anatomy that was involved. Its purposes and benefits. The dangers of it.

You had been told, vehemently, that it was something that should never be done outside of the safe and proper confines of marriage.

Which meant you could never do it because you could never marry.

The Prophet had to remain pure.

Set apart.

Free from romantic, familial, worldly ties.

You were taught to suppress any desire to do otherwise. A task that you had been mostly successful at upholding.

But there were times when your eyes lingered where they shouldn’t and your own thoughts made you shiver and blush.

It was the sin of lust.

The other major vices were usually easily circumvented. You could be disciplined and selfless, just and kind, modest and brave.

You always did what you were told, and you didn’t ask questions.

You told yourself that you weren’t weak; you just knew your place. You knew what was expected of you, and no other options had ever been made available.

So, like thrown clay, you had allowed yourself to be molded into the person you were today, each piece of you carefully and intentionally shaped by the hands of others.

The Elders created the perfect Seraphite specimen. Quietly devout. Enigmatic. Indelible. Untouchable. Obedient.

A mouthpiece disguised as a leader.

A Prophet.

They made you.

You were not a naturally occurring thing.

Sometimes you didn’t even feel human.

Lust was one sin you knew could be concealed, buried far below your surface, unseen by critical eyes.

It was a small act of rebellion. A hidden glimmer of defiance. Although, you weren’t doing it on purpose.

And it was made especially loathsome due to the regrettable fact that it only ever happened to you when you were looking at or thinking of a woman…

Now the Wolf stood in front of you, hammer held tightly in her right hand.

Demons were quickly descending upon you, and you had just witnessed (and neglected to intervene into) the death of three of your own people. The only person you helped was the Wolf, your enemy, who you were meant to kill.

You could guess what the Elders would say if they were here now. How disappointed they would look as they pointed out your many failings.

For once, you didn’t care.

Strangely, despite everything, you felt like a bird whose cage door was just thrown wide open.

Or a well-trained dog that had been mistakenly let off leash.

You could breathe. Unrestricted.

Your eyes remained glued to the Wolf.

Her back was to you, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin. Her shoulders rose with each of her deep, deliberate breaths.

Time seemed to slow as your eyes traced down the length of her arms, taking in her strong form…

See, you knew the sin of lust was bad, if only because it made you stupid.

Or distracted, at the very least.

Demons were coming, and you had just been moments away from gutting this girl.

You definitely couldn’t trust her.

But you didn’t have to trust her to look at her.

A series of snapping twigs and high-pitched shrieks from the surrounding forest instantly brought your attention back to the approaching threat.

Demons were another one of those things that they taught you about but never thought you’d actually encounter.

When you arrived on the mainland that morning, you had been led to the network of Seraphite-built bridges, above the city, concealed in the clouds.

Nearly your entire day had been spent in the sky.

If there were any Demons below, you didn’t see them.

Honestly, you hoped you’d never have to come across the cursed creatures.

The sounds they made were animalistic, but somehow still eerily human. Like a voice that was either enraged or overwhelmed with pain.

You had been told that they were unsavable. Completely consumed by the disease and irrevocably punished for their sins. No longer even human.

As a child, you heard stories of the first Prophet valiantly fighting off hordes in defense of her early followers.

In training, they taught you how to fight both Demons and human adversaries alike. Although the former was always theoretical.

You were shown sketches, detailing the different stages of it.

Foolishly, you thought you were ready.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for what came running out from the cover of the trees.

It moved faster than you would’ve thought possible, too quickly for you to take it all in, but the glimpses you captured were grotesque.

It went straight for the Wolf, swinging its arms wildly. She effortlessly dodged its attack before striking with the hammer. Hard. It was dead in just three blows.

Two more approached from behind you, closest to Lev, and it was past time for you to be useful.

Lev was a skilled archer, but he was still a kid. And Yara, also a kid, only had use of one of her arms.

Both of the Demons were focused on Lev. He fired an arrow, hitting one of them in the chest, but it didn’t take it down.

Its back was to you.

You couldn’t let yourself freeze again.

You closed the distance between you and the beast, lifting your dagger with both hands and bringing it back down swiftly, piercing deeply through its skull.

It let out one last pained shriek as it fell.

The Wolf had taken out the other Demon before Lev had to loose another arrow.

But there were two more where those came from. One swung at the Wolf, and the other came for you.

You were able to dodge, narrowly missing the impact of its savage attack. Stepping back, you continued to evade its blows.

You swung at it, but the thing was fast. Your blade cut into its shoulder instead of its head. Ripping your weapon out, you tried again. This time, you hit your target.

That was two for you.

“Prophet, look out!” Yara shouted. Before you could discern which direction the threat was coming from, you were brutally thrown to the ground, the wind knocked out of you entirely.

Death wore the grisly face of the Demon standing above you.

You had dropped your dagger, leaving you completely defenseless.

Lev’s arrows pierced its throat twice.

It kept coming.

You blinked and it was on the ground. The Wolf knelt over it, hammer crashing over its skull repeatedly, past when the thing was decidedly dead, until the hammer actually broke in her hand.

You just blinked again.

She saved you.

Why did she save you?

You scrambled to your feet, your breaths coming too quickly.

You tried not to panic.

You had only almost died.

You were fine.

The Wolf dropped the splintered remnants of the hammer and stood, shaking out her hand. You stared as she walked over to where your dagger lay on the ground and bent to pick it up.

She looked at you for—as far as you could tell—the first time since you’d cut her down from the rope.

She walked over, holding your gaze.

You realized that she could kill you now. That that was likely why she had saved you.

So she could end you herself.

Because you were the Prophet, and a Seraphite. Or because you had nearly killed her before.

She could even do it with your own weapon. The one that had been meant for her.

You imagined that would be satisfying for a brutish Wolf.

As she approached, you noticed that she towered over you, making you doubly aware of the fact that this was not a fight you would win if it came down to it. Especially when you were unarmed.

She stopped when she stood only a couple feet in front of you, turning the dagger over in her hand and simply offering it to you, handle-first.

Dumbly, you slowly reached out and took it.

Her hand fell back to her side.

There was a hint of a smug little smile on her face, like she knew what you had been thinking.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” she said, voice low. It was the first time she’d spoken directly to you, and you resented the way it made your cheeks warm.

Before you could come up with a competent response, Yara interrupted.

“Prophet, Wolf! Come on. We have to move!” She held a lit torch in her uninjured hand. Lev stood at her side, ready to run.

“Where are you going?” the Wolf asked, unsure if she would be following. You were already moving to join Yara and Lev.

“Out of these woods. We’ve gotta run! Now! The coast is this way.”

They took off into the trees with you close behind. The sound of footsteps falling behind you informed you of the Wolf’s apparent decision to tag along, at least for the time being.

You could also hear more Demons, closing in on either side, chasing the torch’s light. Which meant they were after Yara.

You ran faster, trying to close the distance between you just in case.

As she passed an abandoned vehicle, one of the Demons jumped out, tackling her to the ground.

Lev shot an arrow through its head as you ran to her, pushing the dead Demon off and helping her back to her feet.

The horrifying chorus of even more of them, just beyond your vision, made you startle with each screech.

“They’re all around us!” Yara cried, moving closer to her brother.

The Wolf, weaponless after breaking the hammer, quickly looked around, finding a glass bottle. She grabbed it and threw it at the next creature that emerged from the forest.

The Demon slowed, momentarily stunned, and the Wolf wasted no time knocking it over and bringing her foot down on its skull hard and fast.

Just one stomp and it was dead.

You flushed again, transfixed.

Stupid.

You should not find that attractive.

But she was undeniably incredible.

You shook your head in an attempt to refocus as you turned to watch Lev take down another with a couple well-aimed shots.

A shriek behind you revealed the presence of yet another. You turned to meet it, killing the thing easily enough.

It seemed your training in combat had been sufficient after all, at least where Demons were concerned.

“That was the last of them,” Yara said.

“You guys okay?” the Wolf asked, like she might actually care.

“Yeah,” Lev breathed out, bow and arrow still at the ready.

“We have to keep moving before more come,” Yara insisted, taking up the lead again as she pressed forward.

You all ran after her.

“Every direction looks the same,” said the Wolf. You were inclined to agree. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

“It has to be this way,” Yara said, quietly determined.

“What the hell am I doing?” the Wolf muttered to herself under her breath.

The four of you picked up your speed as the Demons grew closer.

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Abby seriously had no idea what the hell she was doing.

She was running through the woods, fighting off Infected with three Scars.

And one of them was the Prophet.

Who had been fully intending to disembowel her not too long ago…

Something had to be wrong with her. Maybe it was brain damage from nearly suffocating.

Because this wasn’t like her.

A couple hours ago, Abby was killing Scars. Happily.

Well maybe that wasn’t the best word for it. It didn’t make her happy. She just didn’t feel bad about it.

And now, she was prancing through the forest and going out of her way to protect Scars?

The kids were one thing. They seemed to be just as in danger with other Scars as they were with the Infected.

What had that one woman called them? Apostates?

Abby had done enough reading to know what the word meant. She guessed they must have broken some stupid, insane rule and run off.

Or been kicked out.

Either way, from what Abby had gathered, they had gone rogue and were being hunted by their own people.

Which meant they weren’t necessarily her enemy.

But the other girl. The Prophet…

Abby didn’t know what was going on with you.

Were you going rogue too, or were your friends just dead and you needed help getting past the Infected and out of the woods?

And yeah, you had been about to kill her before. But you’d stopped as soon as there was a distraction. Took the out the second it was offered.

And then you had been the one to cut her down.

So maybe you didn’t want to kill her.

That counted for something, right?

Abby didn’t let herself think too much about how pretty you were.

How stunning your eyes looked when they met hers.

How your fingers felt, lightly grazing her bare skin for just a second, then leaving all too soon.

And how you had definitely blushed when she spoke to you.

See? She totally wasn’t thinking about any of that at all.

And she was probably delusional.

And way too distracted, spending any amount of time or energy thinking about such crazy shit while you were all actively running for your lives.

Abby was bringing up the rear of the group, and she knew a horde of Stalkers was not far behind her.

She really hoped these Scars knew where they were going.

“It’s just up here!” the girl, Yara, shouted from up ahead, leading the way to a wall of hanging vines.

The boy, Lev, pulled the vines aside, revealing an opening behind. Yara carefully but quickly maneuvered through. You waited until both she and Lev were on the other side before looking up at Abby expectantly.

There wasn’t time to argue, so Abby went next. You followed closely behind, then let the vines fall back into place, hiding your path from the Infected that pursued.

On the other side, Abby was met with the sight of several dead bodies, clearly recently slaughtered.

She couldn’t tell from this distance what had killed them. Or if they were Scar or WLF.

“Those are fresh. There another way around?” she asked, maneuvering around the corpses.

Lev spoke up. “If there were, would we be going this way?”

Okay. Fair point.

Yara pointed to a chain link fence with the torch. “Come on, Lev. Get it open.”

The kid tried to bend the steel wires up to create an opening. It didn’t budge, despite his efforts.

“Move,” Abby said. He did.

She strained as the piece of fencing gave way beneath her hands.

“Get in there, Prophet,” she said, teeth clenched.

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You quickly slid through the opening and popped up on the other side.

Finally, you were free of the suffocating forest.

The clearing was illuminated with light of the full moon.

You wandered on ahead as Lev, Yara, and the Wolf came through the fence behind you.

“Prophet?” A new voice spoke out as you turned the corner. The reverence in the person’s tone alone told you that you were dealing with a Seraphite.

You turned toward the voice to see a woman you recognized but whose name you couldn’t recall. She was large and stood tall, the side of her face bloody and a pickaxe in her grip.

She had been part of a patrolling squad in the area. You’d seen her briefly earlier in the day, with Emily, after the Wolf had been captured.

The woman saw that you were, in fact, who she thought you were, and she bowed her head out of respect.

“Are you alright, Prophet? What are you doing out here? Where is Emily?”

You were at a loss for words.

Her voice was calm and concerned now, but you knew that she would kill Lev, Yara, and the Wolf if given the chance.

“I—”

Your two friends entered the clearing behind you, drawing her eyes toward them.

“Apostates,” she hissed, and instantly her demeanor changed.

She rushed past you, ruthlessly throwing Yara to the ground and lifting Lev up by his neck.

You moved without thinking, your dagger still tightly clutched in your fingers. Again, you raised your arms above your head, just as you had done when fighting the Demons. Using all of your strength, you brought the blade down above her head, piercing her skull. The weapon was long enough that it exited through her chin.

Her body slackened and slumped to the ground. Dead.

You stared down at her, feeling the weight of what you had just done.

This wasn’t a Demon. It wasn’t an animal.

She was a living person.

And a Seraphite. One of your own people.

You were supposed to be her Prophet. Her leader. Her new hope.

She hadn’t been watching her back because she never imagined that you could betray your people like that. That you would pose a threat to her.

You continued to stare, holding your breath. You couldn’t look away.

You didn’t deserve to look away.

You felt a sob rising in your throat. Your eyes began to water.

No. You would not cry.

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Abby was the last to enter the clearing.

By then, the Scar was already holding Lev in the air, and you were already approaching from behind, lifting your dagger.

Abby watched as you killed her.

Woah.

You were good with that knife, she’d give you that.

Yara and Lev got back to their feet and watched as you stared down at the dead Scar, unmoving. Like you were frozen.

You weren’t even breathing, and you looked like you might cry.

Abby had been wondering how many WLF soldiers you killed today before you got to her. If the three she’d seen hanging when she first came to were yours.

Now, she was sure they weren’t.

Because based on your reaction, that had to be your first time.

She wasn’t usually one to be especially sensitive to the emotions of others, but when she heard you sniffle, finally taking in a ragged breath, she couldn’t help but move towards you.

Abby thought of her own first kill. How easy it was to do in the heat of the moment, but how torn up she’d been in the aftermath.

She understood that it was necessary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard as hell.

She fought the urge to put a hand on your shoulder, or even rub your back soothingly. Reminded herself of who you were and who she was and all the reasons why she shouldn’t even be here right now.

Instead, she bent to retrieve your dagger from the body. She tried to hand it back to you, but you were still stuck, staring down.

“Hey. You did a good job.” She took your hand in hers, placing the handle into your palm and closing your fingers around it. She didn’t let go, allowing her hands to fully encompass yours.

Abby waited until you met her eyes. “You saved them,” she said, nodding towards Lev and Yara, who were both silently watching this unfold. “You did what you had to do.”

You drew your eyebrows together at that, like you wanted to argue. But you seemed to change your mind, ultimately just nodding your head lightly.

She let her hands drop and glanced back down at the slumped body again, her eyes catching on something.

“Wait. Is that my backpack?” Abby asked, looking more closely.

Beside her, you lifted your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

“Probably. Emily gave it to her earlier,” you said numbly.

Abby didn’t need to ask who Emily was. She could guess.

She reclaimed her belongings while you pulled yourself together.

“Are you two alright?” you asked the siblings.

“Yes, Prophet,” Lev answered, watching you closely. Abby noticed that you seemed to bristle ever so slightly at his use of your title. You didn’t say anything though.

She held her rifle in her hands again, happy to have her stuff back.

Especially the guns.

Wordlessly, the Scar kids led the way into the nearest building.

Out of habit, Abby began gathering supplies as you went along, taking ammo and medical supplies and anything else that seemed useful.

“How’s the arm?” she asked Yara, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“I have it under control,” the girl insisted defensively.

“Okay…” Abby took a box of ammo from a cabinet. “Grab any supplies you find.”

“We can’t touch this stuff. It’s Old World,” Lev said, like that should’ve been obvious.

“Are you fu---? You need supplies. We’re not out of the woods yet.” She opened and then shut a drawer. “Pun fucking intended.”

“What’s a pun?” Lev asked from another room.

Abby didn’t have the energy to answer that question.

Instead she said, “I’ve never seen Scars go after Scars like that before.”

“Seraphites,” you and Lev corrected in unison as you explored different rooms of the building.

Again, she ignored. “So what the hell did you do?”

“I shaved my head,” Lev answered simply.

Abby scoffed. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

The group passed through building after dilapidated building, heading towards the coast. At least in theory.

“We’re almost there,” Yara said. “Just a little farther.”

She led the way down a steep drop-off into another run-down building. One where you wouldn’t be able to get back out the same way you went in.

“Now what?” Abby threw out, tired and frustrated.

“I’m quite confident it’s this way.”

“Quite confident?” Abby repeated incredulously.

“You don’t have to follow us,” Lev pointed out.

“You want me to leave you three out here alone?” Abby shot back.

Your response was an immediate and insistent, almost panicked, “No!”

Everyone else turned to you, surprised.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Lev offered.

Abby found the front doors, but they were held firmly closed by a metal gate on the outside.

Above the door was a large opening, too high for Abby to pull herself out of, but not too high for someone to climb through with a boost.

“If you get us through there, we’ll open the gate,” Lev said.

Abby remembered again that these were Scars she was dealing with. And like hell was she going to boost you all up to safety just so you could leave her stranded here.

“Get them out,” you said, as if you could read her mind. “I’ll stay with you.”

Lev started to protest but stopped after one shake of your head.

Abby nodded. “Okay. Come on.”

He gave you one last look before walking over to her, stepping into her open hands and pulling himself through the opening.

“Your turn.” Abby looked at Yara. “Watch that arm.” She carefully helped the injured girl maneuver up and out.

The all too familiar shriek of Infected sounded off behind you, coming from deeper in the building.

On the other side of the doors, Lev pushed at the gate. It wouldn’t budge.

“The gate’s stuck!”

“Fuck! Hurry up!” Abby looked back and forth between the door and the direction the Infected were coming from.

“We’ll look for another way!” Yara said, and the two of them disappeared from view.

Abby tried to stay calm and prepared herself for the inevitable fight.

“They’re not going to leave me,” you said, drawing her attention. You held your knife at the ready, rolling your shoulders back.

She didn’t respond, not sure if she believed you.

“They won’t,” you reiterated.

“I hope you’re right, Prophet.” She offered one of the weapons from her stash. “You ever shot a gun before?”

You shook your head but accepted the firearm anyway.

“Come here. I’ll show you.”

What Abby hoped would only be a few Infected turned out to be an entire horde. Runners, Stalkers, Clickers, and even a couple Shamblers.

You were fighting them off like a champ.

Seriously. She was impressed.

You’d kept the gun, watched her rushed demonstration on how to operate it, but ultimately chose to primarily stick with the dagger.

Both of you had been fighting for several minutes as you moved through the building. No sign of the other two Scars. Abby had pretty much resigned herself to needing to find her own way out.

She cleared the room she was in, lowering her weapon to take a breather.

You were in the next room, and it sounded like you had cleared that one out too.

The only warning Abby had before she felt the blow was you urgently shouting, “Wolf!”

A Stalker that she failed to notice had her pinned to the ground, knocking her rifle from her grip in the process.

It reared its head back as Abby struggled, fighting to get it off her.

A gunshot rang out, and the Infected slumped, lifeless.

She shoved it off her and sat up to see you standing there, borrowed gun still aimed and ready.

“Good girl!” Abby exclaimed, beaming up at you from where she sat on the floor.

Wait.

What the fuck?

She meant to say “good job”…

Actually, she hadn’t meant to say anything.

You lowered the weapon. Based on the look on your face, you were just as taken aback by her use of those words as Abby was. Although, she managed to keep it from showing on her face. Mostly.

She stood quickly and fumbled through a recovery. “Good shot. That was—I mean—It was a good… A good shot. Good job.”

You smiled softly at Abby’s obvious display of nerves, walking over to where her rifle had fallen when she was attacked.

You picked it up and returned it to her.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” you said, mimicking the teasing tone Abby had used when she said those same words to you earlier that night.

She made a face. Something that was equal parts embarrassment and amusement.

“Prophet! Over here!” came Lev’s quiet voice from the next room.

You shot Abby an I told you so look before the two of you ran after the sound.

----------------------------------------------------------------

When Yara collapsed, the Wolf picked her up and carried her.

You listened as she quietly comforted your dear friend, encouraging her to keep breathing and promising to find somewhere to rest soon.

Your heart felt soft for her in that moment.

Or maybe you were just exhausted.

Lev led the group with you in the back, gun drawn and alert to the best of your current abilities.

You entered a clearing, full of enormous metal boxes and small, raised buildings. All things from the Old World that you had never seen before and didn’t have words for.

The Wolf instructed Lev to start checking the doors of all the small buildings. It took a few tries before he found one that was open.

The inside was in noticeably better shape than any other structure you’d seen on the mainland, with a few simple, fully intact pieces of furniture.

You watched as the Wolf moved through the first small room and into the second, carefully setting Yara down on the couch. She went over to the windows, checking again to make sure the four of you hadn’t been followed.

When Yara began to slowly remove her overshirt, you were quick to help, being especially careful with her injured arm.

It was swollen and bright red from her elbow down to her fingertips, visibly mangled. You had to bite back a gasp.

Lev stood on the other side of the room, a horribly worried expression on his face.

It wouldn’t be helpful for you to panic now.

“Hey,” you said to him, light and encouraging, drawing his gaze to you and away from his hurt older sister. “It just needs to be set. Okay?”

You turned your eyes to the Wolf who was still hovering by the window. “You know how to do that?”

The face she made confirmed what you already knew. Yara needed much more than just for the arm to be set.

Still, the Wolf walked over, instructing Lev to cut the discarded overshirt into strips and telling Yara to lean back.

You helped her, kneeling on the floor by the side of the couch where her head lay, ready to assist in any way you could.

“I’m gonna move it, okay?” said the Wolf.

“Okay.”

They were both speaking so softly.

“You ready?” she asked.

Yara nodded, reaching her uninjured hand out for one of yours. You held it, letting her squeeze as tightly as she needed to.

The crunching noise the arm made as it was set nearly made you sick.

Yara let out a series of pained noises, panting and grunting. You used your free hand to gently brush the loose strands of her hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears.

You whispered that the worst was over, and that she would be okay now.

You didn’t know if that was true, but you hoped it comforted her a little.

The Wolf broke a leg off a wooden chair, took the newly cut strips of fabric that Lev offered, and went to work bracing the newly-set arm, using the chair leg as a splint.

Yara watched the Wolf’s face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The Wolf secured the last piece of cloth before she answered, meeting Yara’s gaze.

“Abby,” she said.

She stood, looking to Lev and then to you.

“I should go,” the Wolf—Abby—said.

You stood too, to walk her out.

Lev quickly filled in the space that you left, kneeling in the same spot and taking Yara’s waiting hand in his.

Abby grabbed her backpack and followed you into the first room, toward the door.

You paused, turning to face her.

“Are you—” You wanted to ask where she was going. What she would do next. Really, if you were being honest, you didn’t want her to go at all.

But you didn’t have the right to ask for any of those things, so instead you went with, “Are you okay?”

You gestured to your neck, meaning to indicate the dark, noose-shaped bruises that circled her own throat.

It felt like so long ago that she’d been hanging in front of you, unfortunate to find herself on the wrong end of your dagger. But, realistically, only a couple of hours had gone by.

She cleared her throat, her own fingers instinctively ghosting over the marks.

“Oh umm… Yeah. It’ll be fine.” She waited a beat before adding, “Thanks for cutting me down.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, considering it was technically your fault she needed to be cut down in the first place.

You settled on a nod and a tight smile.

She turned to go, twisting the doorhandle and stepping back out into the rain.

Before you could close the door behind her, she looked back and said, “This area gets a lot of traffic. Whatever shape she’s in…” Abby leaned closer, hand on the door frame, “You need to get out of here by tomorrow.”

Again, you nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

She held your gaze for a moment longer before she turned and walked down the steps.

You shut and locked the door.

----------------------------------------------------------------

As Abby walked away from the office trailer, she couldn’t help the images that came to mind.

She kept envisioning you and Lev and Yara, dead.

Hanged and gutted by the Scars.

Or shot by the WLF.

Or ripped to shreds by Infected.

She had real responsibilities. A friend to look for. A whole community counting on her.

She had a war to get back to.

But if she left now, would she always wonder about what happened to you?

The urge to stay near you—to protect you—was so overwhelming. She didn’t know where it was coming from or what she should do with it.

You were not safe, but she knew you were much safer with her.

Isaac had warned her that the first Scar Prophet had been able to make even the most dedicated soldiers turn on a dime. He said that with just a few carefully chosen words, she could make a person question where their loyalties lied.

It had seemed so ridiculous just that morning, but now you were doing the same thing to Abby.

You were in her head.

But this didn’t feel like manipulation.

She didn’t know what it was that drew her to you, but it felt real. Natural. And entirely unintentional.

Or maybe she was reading you all wrong, and you really were a master manipulator.

Abby needed to make a decision. Because she was currently standing still in the pouring rain with the trailer still in view.

She chose to trust her gut.

And her gut was telling her to turn around. To stay with you.

Owen would have to wait.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Note: Thank you to anyone who’s read all three chapters of this! The fact that literally anyone has is absolutely bonkers to me. I’ve already learned so much about myself as a writer since I started writing fics a couple weeks ago. For example, this week I learned that I DO NOT enjoy writing fight scenes… Unfortunately it was thoroughly unavoidable for this chapter. Regardless, I really hope it was interesting to read, and I’m looking forward to fleshing out the relationship between Abby and my reader more and more!

[bakugos-wifey]

I’m back from my grandmother’s birthday, and it went about as terribly as I expected. I don’t know why I even bothered going. I should’ve known better. My family hasn’t changed—they’re still the same judgmental, gossiping vultures, eager to pick apart every part of my life, especially when it comes to my relationship status. You’d think, at 27, they’d have something more to talk about, but apparently not.

It was my aunts and cousin, of course. I don’t know why they care so much, but it’s always the same conversation. "Why aren’t you married yet, Ari?" "You’re not getting any younger, you know. If you don’t find someone soon, you’ll end up alone." As if that is the worst thing that could ever happen. They went on and on, throwing looks at each other like they knew exactly what was wrong with me, and they were the only ones who could fix it.

I tried to keep my cool, but it felt like they were circling, waiting for me to crack. Finally, one of them—Aunt Cee—said, "Don’t you want children, Ari? What are you waiting for?" She doesn't even have a child herself, that fat fuck.

I snapped.

I told them I didn’t want to end up like them. I told them I didn’t want two divorces, four kids with different fathers, or to not even know who the father of my child with Down syndrome is—just like them. You should’ve seen their faces. The room went silent, and I could feel the anger boiling in the air, but I didn’t care. I stormed out of there, left the whole damn party behind. I was so angry I didn’t even look back.

When I finally got to my apartment, I sat in the parking lot and cried. I was so frustrated, so full of rage, I couldn’t even think straight. They didn’t understand me, and I knew they never would. They’d never understand the things I’m dealing with, the reality of my life now. How could they? They’re so wrapped up in their religious beliefs, they wouldn’t even be able to comprehend what I’ve done, what I’ve summoned.

Sebastian was waiting for me when I got inside, of course. He didn’t say anything at first, but I could feel his presence before I even saw him. It was unsettling how quiet he was, standing there in the dim light of my living room, watching me with those crimson eyes that seem to see everything.

I wiped my face and finally spoke. “You know what happened, don’t you?”

He didn’t respond right away, but when he did, his voice was soft and deliberate. “Mistress Ari, two of your aunts are sick. They have cancer. They will soon know.”

I froze, the weight of his words sinking into my chest like a stone. “Did you do anything?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He gave me a calm, almost serene smile. “No, Mistress. You haven’t asked for that. What I am trying to say is that all the venom they hold in their souls is now starting to manifest in their physical lives.”

I stared at him, not sure if I should be terrified or grateful. His face didn’t change—calm, composed, as if he were merely stating facts. “Sometimes,” he continued, “people don’t realize how venomous their words can be toward others, yet they keep attacking with their tongues. It always comes back, eventually.”

I couldn’t even process what he said. I felt numb. I needed to escape, to calm down, so I took a long bath, trying to wash away the stress of the day. But even as the hot water poured over me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, that something was happening far beyond my control.

When I finally crawled into bed, I lay there for what felt like hours, replaying his words in my head. I wanted to believe that it was just a coincidence, but with Sebastian, I’ve learned that there are no coincidences. I fell asleep, clinging to the last shred of normalcy I had, hoping that when I woke up, everything would be the same.

But it wasn’t.

The next morning, my mother called. She wasn’t mad about what had happened at the party, not really. She said it wasn’t right for my aunts to say those things to me because in the end it's my life, but she gently scolded me, saying I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. “They’re your aunts after all,” she said, as if that made it okay.

I didn’t say much to her, just nodded along, but the guilt was already creeping in. I’d tried to forget about it, to tell myself that what Sebastian said was just words. But then, three weeks later, I found out Aunt C. had gone to the doctor. A cancerous tumor in her thyroid, just like Sebastian had said.

And four months later, it happened again. Aunt A. —the most vicious, bitchy, controlling one of them all—was diagnosed with cancer, too and hers even more agrassive. I can still see her sitting across from me at that party, judging me with her cold, calculating eyes, and now… now her words have come back to haunt her.

Just like Sebastian said they would.

I don’t know what to make of it. Part of me is horrified. Another part of me feels like they’re getting what they deserve. And then there’s this other part, the part that scares me the most… the part that wonders if Sebastian’s right. If this is just the natural order of things. If the venom we hold in our hearts eventually comes back to destroy us.

I don’t know what to believe anymore.

With love, Ari

[panoralis]

❝  I  CAN’T  SEE  MYSELF  THROUGH  YOUR  EYES  ˒  𝐢.  astre’s  anatomy

STAGE  NAME  :  aster  ❪  과  ❫

BIRTH  NAME  :  hwang  haein  ❪  황해인  ❫

ENGLISH  NAME  :  naia

BIRTHDAY  :  march  9  ,  1998  ❪  pisces  ❫

BIRTH  PLACE  :  incheon  ,  south  korea

ETHNICITY  :  korean

KNOWN  FAMILY  :  mother  ,  paternal  aunt  ,  older  sister  &  brothers  ❪  triplets  ❫

LANGUAGES  :  korean  ,  japanese  ,  english  ,  chinese  &  french

⸻  𝐚.  darling  ,  how  do  i  LOOK ?

FACE  CLAIM  :  lee  saerom  of  fromis_9

HEIGHT  :  one  hundred  sixty  five  point  one centimetres  or  five  feet  five  inches

BODY  MODIFICATION(S)  :  standard  lobes  ,  double  helix  on  left  ear

⸻  𝐛.  watch  myself  bloom  through  the  DOWNPOUR .  

FLOWERS  :  an  observer  ,  she  notices  details  others  gloss  over  because  they’re  looking  at  the  big  picture  .  another  one  who  has  almost  never  made  a  decision  she  regrets  .  cliffhangers  aren’t  her  style  so  once  she’s  set  on  something  ,  it’s  done  .  her  meticulousness  comes  handy  during  practices  because  she  can  help  correct  those  little  mistakes  ;  enhance  her  members’  delivery  of  each  move  .

SHOWERS  :  she  strives  for  the  best  ,  understandable  .  but  sometimes  ,  she  becomes  too  much  ,  too  ..  suffocating  that  she  has  to  be  pulled  out  of  that  persona  .  when  the  concerns  and  interests  of  those  she  cares  about  come  to  light  ,  hers  get  thrown  in  the  backseat  .  the  woman  also  struggles  to  ask  for  help  because  she  doesn’t  want  to  be  perceived  ‘  unfit  ’  for  her  role  .

⸻  𝐜.  you  will  always  be  my  CELEBRITY !

LABEL(S)  :  pledis  entertainment  ❪  2014  -  2016  ❫  &  astre  entertainment  ❪  2016  -  present  ❫ 

PROFESSION  :  idol

GROUP  :  pandora

POSITION  :  vice  leader  ,  dancer  &  vocalist

YET  YOU  NEVER  FAIL  TO  WEAR  MY  SMILE  ˒  𝐢𝐢.  and  her  history  ❞

❪  tw  :  minor  character  death  &  self - doubt   ❫

VINTAGE.  when  you’re  the  youngest  of  four  ,  it’s  …  quite  the  adventure  .  on  one  day  ,  haein  is  a  real  life  doll  that  her  sister  likes  dressing  up  .  the  next  ?  she’s  clinging  onto  her  eldest  brother’s  shirt  for  dear  life  while  he  whisks  her  away  from  the  tagger  .   when their mother  saw  how  much  haein  enjoyed  all  these  activities  with  her  older  siblings  ,  she  felt  relief  . 

because  like  all the grown ups in their life  ,  the  triplets  were  honouring  their  father’s  final  wish  :  let  the  baby  feel  loved  .

CURRENT.  after  being  overlooked  again  ,  haein  was  at  a  crossroad  .  is  there  still  a  chance  she’ll  become  an  idol  ?  her  sign  came  in  the  form  of  a  phone  call  —  courtesy  of  a  casting  agent  who  had left pledis  .  the  third  member  revealed  to  the  public  ,  aster  was  over  the  moon  that  there  were  still  people  who  believed  in  her  .  a  homebody  ,  wanderers  can  relate  to  her  desire  to  rest  in  a  place  where  she  can  be  comfortable  and  authentic  without  being  scrutinised  .  (  she  also  has  such  good  taste  in  pyjamas  .  )

[variantia]

BELLUM. and I OOP-

@bcdluckstumblcd forced me to write this it totally wasn't my idea that wouldn't leave me alone at all, this is the most I've written at one time in months

... the song is "Some Type of Skin" by AURORA (whose music is a big inspiration for my Elsa in general soooo um um um um)

WHO WANNA CRY WITH ME CUZ I AIN'T DOING IT ALONE

“Hit me hard where I am soft should my heart reveal itself to be more than a muscle or a fist covered in blood?”

The clock reads 1:52 A.M. Elsa’s eyes are heavy and she knows she should go home to sleep soon. She has an afternoon shift, so she needs to be sharp. There are texts sitting in her phone and they make her feel like a traitor to the man in the hospital bed.

That’s what he thinks she is. It’s funny how progress can be so hard-fought and won and then so easily lost and forgotten. It’s not Jin’s fault. It’s not Hawks’ fault.

So she’s left feeling like it’s her fault, sins bearing down on her that can’t be swept under the rug. Just the same as every other thing that’s weighed her shoulders down that probably wasn’t hers, but she knows this time she bears at least some of the blame.

How can she do that? To want so badly to help Jin while also defending her friend who did this to him? Who stabbed his family in the back?

There’s no apology she can give Jin that won’t sound incredibly fucking hollow. That won’t sound like an excuse, that won’t sound patronizing.

So she’s just stayed. Visiting hours extended for her, in an uncomfortable chair next to Jin’s bed, watching as the painkillers drag him into an uneasy sleep, and she does the only thing she can think of to help him rest.

She stays by the bed, and she sings quietly.

“… However much it feels to bleed it’s only temporary we’re good people and we both deserve peace, peace…”

Is this any comfort to him, she wonders? Any ease to his mind that she isn’t here to hurt him? She’s read his entire file and she feels horrible for what Hawks had to do. Not just to Jin, to the rest of the League too.

Sometimes she worries that she’s not cut out to be a hero, because she could never imagine doing what Hawks did. She knows, she knows that he genuinely liked Jin as a person. He wanted to give Jin a chance, and Jin didn’t trust him enough to take it, and the sad thing is that Elsa doesn’t blame Jin a bit for not trusting him.

She’s just hoping that she can build enough trust with Jin for him to take the chance she wants to give. It’s the unfortunate truth that right now, the small bit of trust he had in her is broken, because she cares about Jin, but she also cares about Hawks.

This man has been through so much. He probably doesn’t know who he can trust anymore.

“… My God! It’s a lot to build some type of skin I got to build some type of skin My God! It’s a lot…”

Her voice is a gentle lullaby, though she doesn’t even know if Jin can her it. Or whether her emotions, her desperation to give him options, comes through in her voice. All she knows is that she feels it. That it’s real.

For her to give him any options, he has to trust her. There’s a sick feeling in her stomach, the dread that he may never trust her as long as she’s also friends with Hawks. She clings violently to the hope that that isn’t true.

When she looks at Jin in the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors and an IV drip of a cocktail of different medications, her heart breaks. All she sees is someone who society forgot, ignored, broke apart. Someone who found their own family.

She’s seen clips of the League. That’s what they are, her mind has always whispered. A family. Their bonds with each other matter and they shouldn’t be dismissed because they’re criminals.

Someone should have given them all a chance. None of them should have been allowed to slip through the cracks.

But they did. And the only person she can give a chance to is Jin. She prays that she can eventually convince him to take it.

“… I guess I should build some type of skin and let breath be air and love the things I know might disappear…”

She doesn’t know if she can verbalize any of the things in her head, or if he would believe her if she did. Her friend nearly killed Jin, and Jin saw her on national television defending Hawks. That has to look like a betrayal in itself.

The media shouldn’t be tearing Hawks apart for doing his job, because they don’t have the whole story. But his job should never have had to come to what he did. While Jin isn’t entirely blameless, Elsa knows that there is a history behind his refusal to take Hawks’ chance at reformation.

It hurts her to be able to see both sides of this, to understand why Hawks did what he did and to understand why Jin did what he did. Anything she says in defense of Hawks is only going to make Jin want to trust her even less.

What happened was an awful situation that shouldn’t have happened at all.

But she cares about Jin. Isn’t that the whole point of a hero, to care about people? To look after them and make sure they’re safe?

So many people forget that doesn’t just apply to civilians. If a villain needs help, they should be able to get.

Someone should give a shit about picking up the pieces.

“… And the last light of the sun I let it slow me down I’ll crawl where everybody runs we’re good people and we deserve peace it’s difficult, it seems…”

Jin twitches. Groans in his sleep. His fist flexes, open and closed, before reaching up to dig at the IV in his arm. It’s painful, she’s sure it itches like crazy, and he’s really not fully conscious to realize what he’s touching.

Before he can get so far as to try clawing at it hard enough to rip it out, Elsa quickly stands up. Her hand goes immediately to his, carefully drawing it back, before her other hand sets over the IV site. Ice channels through her palm, pressing a cooling, soothing bit of relief to all the irritation. Soft shushing noises accompany her movement.

He seems to take her touch okay at least while he’s asleep, with just a grunt and a huff before his face is no longer contorted in discomfort. She’s noticed he really only ever looks relaxed while he’s sleeping; he settles, sinking back down into the thin pillows.

Tentatively, once he’s no longer agitated, Elsa reaches up to run her hand through his hair. An experimental touch, an attempt at giving him some solace among the battleground that she’s certain is his mind right now.

There’s an incomprehensible mumble from him, but nothing else. No sudden spring to wakefulness or glare aimed at her. No mistrust in the way he reacts. It gives her hope.

She lowers herself back down into the chair, watching him again as she continues to sing. This whole time her song hasn’t faltered.

The best way she can show him that he can trust her is to just… be here. To treat him kindly. While she doesn’t know if he’ll accept it, because this poor man has been burned so many times, she tries to stay optimistic.

“… My God! It’s a lot to build some type of skin I got to build some type of skin my God! It’s a lot my God! My God! it’s a lot to build some type of skin I got to build some type of skin my God! My God! My God! It’s a lot, it’s a lot my God! It’s a lot it’s a lot, a lot, to me, to me…”

Existence is heavy all on its own. To live is to know pain. And Elsa knows that’s true, because she has her own pain. Once that pain becomes a part of you, it can’t be removed without killing part of yourself.

The past will always hurt. But she wants to show Jin that the future doesn’t have to.

That’s all she can do now. Keep trying, and pray that she can make his future better than his past, without taking away the parts that have made him who he is. Without taking away the little bits of joy that he found with the League, and without making him think her friendship with Hawks means she’s a threat to him.

Jin’s life is precious. She will fight to make him see that.

Her hand stays in his hair for a long moment, falling away only when the final bars of her song taper off.

She should go home. But she won’t. She’ll spend the night by Jin’s side, in this uncomfortable chair, sleeping in the worst position possible, so that he won’t wake up alone again.

“… My God, it’s a lot,” is the last sigh of her breath before her eyes close and she lets the darkness claim her.

[livehexmoments]

here’s some Hex hcs about some of the characters in no particular order!:

Reginald doesn’t like drinking rootbeer or most sodas! he likes making it, serving it (used to kind of), but gag if he has too much of it. He only drinks it in small sips and even then, it’s only for special occasions or get togethers. He actually prefer things that are sour and i mean, this man can eat a lemon whole and be fine. He has been working on making specialized rootbeer that’s more sour but it’s a work in progress (Weasel accidently drank a sample and almost threw up)

Reggie’s first name is Rootbeer and he fucking hates being called that. Every time he introduces himself, he has to insist the person calls him “Reggie”. When the patrons found about this, you can bet Weasel and Chandrelle took turns calling him Rootbeer just to piss him off

Going off of names, “Chief Bryce” is not Bryce’s full name, it’s just Bryce. Chief is just a title. If anyone did call him Chief, he wouldn’t mind at all though

FPP’s actual name is Lionel according to the Walk, but due to...reasons, they don’t like the name at all. Honestly, I think they would change their name to “Joe”. It sounds weird, but when Rebecha called them “Faceless Joe” I can totally imagine them clinging onto the name only because it has barely any association with Lionel. They try to separate themselves from Lionel so much.

O btw in my hc, FPP uses they/them pronouns exclusively!!

FPP has a couple ways of communicating with the inn members: sign language (they learned how to do it themselves and then taught the others how to. Can be difficult for them because they can’t move their arms very well), Morse code (same story), simply drawing or writing it out, using sound effects from a soundboard they found (uses this if they want to annoy everyone), or using face masks to express how they feel about something. 

Oh yeah speaking of that, FPP can’t really move their joints very well :(. They can move their arms up and down as an example, but can only move them left or right a little bit.

Rust’s vision is super fucked. Literally, he can’t see anything that isn’t 2 feet in front of him. 

Rust does know that Rocky isn’t his biological son, just never cared to tell Rocky because 1. he didn’t want Rocky feeling any type of way and 2. It doesn’t matter to him that much, Rocky will always be his kid, regardless if they are biologically related

Lazarus has cosmic radiation, thats canon. But, because of said radiation, his immune system is incredibly weak. If he gets the flu, he’ll go from being sick to critical condition in minutes. It’s also why he does get sick often

While Catarina says their relationship is like “Master/follower” it’s really not the case. However, I will say that it can sometimes manifest and is an unhealthy flaw of their relationship. Jeremiah can be a bit too loyal to the point of putting himself in danger to get Reggie what he wants and Reggie's stubbornness can lead him to getting mad when Jerry says no (Which is rare). Still, fighting between them is rare and when it does happen, it is absolutely not something you want to stick around for. 

Thankfully, they don’t last very long because they’re both lonely and being away from each other for more than 10 minutes is painful. Longest they fought and refused to talk to each other was a month (and it was hell for everyone involved)

Chandrelle is introverted as hell!! I usually think of her and Lazarus on opposite sides of being antisocial. like “oh no people!! (Lazarus) vs. Ew people (Chandrelle)”

FPP loves giving hugs and holding hands!! They were stuck in the walk which had barely any characters they could physically interact with so sometimes they’ll go up to any of them and either ask for a hug or hold out their hand. 

FPP does love his new found family very much. For all their flaws, he does appreciate how they basically accepted them in and it shows with how nice they are to them...even if they can be a bit creepy about it, by following them around and trying to hang out or watching them do their thing intently

Lazarus doesn’t smile very often, but when he does, it’s the most awkward smile ever. Even his laugh sounds a bit off because he’s not used to doing it. Chandrelle loves it though, it’s honestly cute (He gets a bit annoyed when she says that)

JUNIOR TRANS!!! Changed his gender after SOL and went to Vicious Galaxy (Moji is a gender neutral name with Moglees and honestly look at them, they do have a little bit gnc swag). Also in the files, he goes being referred to “mojikid” or “kid” to “mojison” so,,,  trans rights. Also love the idea of Lazarus and him having a moment of understanding with each other

I imagine Wizarro constantly changes his story with the lipstick on his cheek and how he got it (“I was in a dating sim once”, “it was a secret in joke with the creators”, and “I had a secret relationship with one of the fighters ;)” as examples). Are any of them true? Probably not but he just likes to fuck with people, hes a funny little wizard man.

Ok one more because this is getting long: I hc Irving as bisexual. Not just because I am making “every dmg character is queer” a reality but also because of this meme: “get a girlfriend” “or a boyfriend! He’s bi.” “Damn nobody wants you fr 😂😂 ” “I’m saying like 😂😂” (Changed it to laughing because i love bullying him FWQEWERG, imagine any of the inn patrons @ him)

[maliceofminds]

Taxi rides on Christmas Eve

Well, maybe it‘s more like a taxi ride Christmas night. 4 am and counting as she looks down at her boots. Black shining leather and she wants to rip it apart, wants the polish to wear off, have tears and scratches. Wants prove that she’s living, not floating in a vacuum tank.

The cab is just as shiny. Shiny seats, Polsters and it reeks. Reeks of spilled dirty secrets and expensive whisky and unloved lives and alcoholism and drugs and negligent parents and paper (the green printed type) and fights and warmth, humid sticky warmth that clings to her skin like it’s trying to become part of her.

It smells like her mother and her father. Like her family and who she is. It smells like destiny.

Sirius black is in a taxi on Christmas Eve. Sirius black is in a cage, rabid dog, curled against the iron fence on Christmas Eve. But the dirt floor of the cage is home, the scratches of her claws her handwriting and the only thing that the world will ever remember about her. A dog, chained to the foot of a bed.

A radiating hand reaches out for her. Burns as it trails along the skin of her arm like a child carefully finding a new thing. But it’s not a child. And Walburga Black only knows softness in the cage with a syringe of calming drug in her left hand as she strokes her own creation.

Love and hate mull together Sirius thinks distantly. They must. She thinks of the ugliness that reflects them sitting next to one another on the backseat. The mirror that they build and the pain that comes with looking into it.

She’s her mother and her mother is her.

Everyone knows.

They know best. That’s why they can rip each other apart, time after time. Rip and clash and dig fingers into flesh until they come back bloody and dripping, until rib cages open, until they cry and hug and love again. Until they see themselves raging in the other and slow and slow until they halt in a painful show of self awareness that not many people can say they’ve been part of.

But know they’re in the cab. The cage. And her mothers hand is soft like she doesn’t know her. And misses seeing all her flaws and that stings more than the actual sneers and screams and cries. Because deep down. Walburga black must have a heart. One that beats and loves.

And she loves Sirius. In an obsessive crazy way, in a way that makes her want to burn down the world, Sirius thinks, sometimes, when she sees her hot, red anger. In a spoiled way that makes her mother want, like a girl wants a pony. Like a spoiled brat that takes everything and never gives, in a selfish kind of way that morphs Sirius like dough into whatever form she needs her to be.

The warm hand trails down her arm and Sirius stares right ahead. Into the red count of the taxi cab, counts seconds. Strings them together with the numbers and the world flies by and her mother‘s hand takes hers. Like soft Love. Like a bed time story. Like a slow song on the radio. Like she forgot how sharp they Both are.

She’s burning up with it. Like painful hellfire inside of her raging. A volcano about to erupt.

She pulls away.

Tucks her hands between her cold bare thighs. Into safety.

„Sirius?“ her voice is slurred with the alcohol. Uncountable drinks that make her soft like goo. Like slime dripping down from what’s left of her. All the while her father turns stoic into hard stone, unreachable like an angel on a gravestone only he’s far from angelic.

She doesn’t like that version. The goo version of her. She doesn’t like any other either, but this one feels like a mother, overbearing and caring. Calling desperately for her child. Smiling at her. Touching without hurting, warm and falsely safe.

It makes something rise up in her throat. Deep sting like tears. And vile taste like vomit. And deep knowing in the pit of her stomach while she swallows it down.

She is burning up with it. Sweating, pearly on her skin, hands tucked, head up, eyes tracing the numbers and pretending she’s lost hearing. Maybe she’s like her father after all.

She wishes for Winter suddenly. For cold to wrap her up and pink her cheeks. For snow and breath in the air. For the girl that’s always cold.

Remus Lupin never burns she thinks distantly.

She will only trace her long spindly fingers along her skin and let Sirius pretend the goosebumps are from the cold of them.

Kiss her like a body. Like she is haunting her from death. But then make her warm in the pleasant kind of way. Like soft Love. Like a bed time story. Like a slow song on the radio. Like she knows how sharp they both can be but she is not afraid to get cut.

[liamgallaghermpreg]

hot spn take

I’ve said something similar before but I think the “who is more girl coded” debate between the Winchester brothers is kind of ridiculous when they both so obviously are in different ways — this is bound to happen with two male protags — and I think you can talk about one without writing off the other ones’ trauma. They’re so entwined from the jump because of this weird family unit thing going on with John seeing Dean as his wife and Dean stuck in the eldest daughter role having to take care of Sam. On the other hand you have Sam rebelling against his role, less of the obedience that Dean has, you can see him as the younger son but once John is out of the equation you start seeing him trying to convince Dean (and others) of things he’s experience which are written off in a very female hysteria way. We have roles reversing with Dean trying hard to assert his maleness and Sam kind of releasing this feminine rage at times. I think a lot of people write off Dean’s (extremely mid-aughts) casual misogyny in a “he can’t be experiencing girl-coding because he keeps calling Sam a girl” way which I get but I guess I see it as this total resistance to admit that sort of “weakness” he believes he has, internalized misogyny indeed, shoving it off on his little brother, who sometimes occupies the space of little sister…idk. Maybe because I’m looking at this from an afab trans experience but I just see it a lot in both of them and I think it’s interesting how they place off each other. Both outcasts in their own way but still clinging to each other

[astrolionking]

Barnacles x Kwazii Headcanons

I have a few that have been in my head for awhile so here ya go!!

[Disclaimer: most of these don’t make sense in the context of the canon series, if you see my art, I’m mostly referring my designs and such]

When they got together, it kind of came together naturally. They both knew they had feelings for each other after awhile of being around each other so it only made sense for them to become a couple already

Kwazii made the first move. While the two were having a calm, relaxing day together, Kwazii kissed Barnacles. And it just felt right. So Barnacles kissed back and that was the start of their relationship

Kwazii is obviously the clingy one. Like, he can handle not being around Barnacles if either/both are busy but when they’re both available for each other, Kwazii just clings to him. Barnacles is sitting doing some mundane work? Kwazii is on his lap. They’re in bed? Kwazii is tiny but he WILL be the big spoon.

Barnacles loves kissing Kwazii’s hand. Kwazii loves receiving them and loves giving Barnacles kisses on the lips.

As you can probably tell, their love language is physical affection. But also Barnacles’ love language is also words of affirmation

Kwazii hardly gets flustered but when Barnacles compliments him wether it’s for finishing a mission or just looking nice, Kwazii is silently having a gay panic

They’ve been married for awhile. They got married a little around before Peso joined the Octonauts. It isn’t too obvious they’re married because they can’t wear their rings too often because of their jobs so Barnacles keeps them safe somewhere

Barnacles proposed first and Kwazii shot back with a “YOU BEAT ME TO IT!!” It was a fun time

Bianca teases Barnacles constantly abt liking someone cause he once said he’s never getting a partner… when he was, like, 14. (He’s Demiromantic and Gay, he at first just thought he didn’t like anyone lol)

Bianca was so ready to welcome Kwazii into the family, she was ECSTATIC to find out her brother was finally getting married

Orson and Ursa definitely call Kwazii their uncle. The first time they did, Kwazii nearly cried

Calico Jack was definitely accepting of Kwazii and was happy knowing his grandson found someone (and Kwazii nearly cried when he told him. Kwazii’s relationship with Barnacles DEFINITELY made him more emotional /pos)

Barnacles loves to make Kwazii a flustered mess cause he just looks so adorable that way! Kwazii always tries to look as professional as possible but then Barnacles said the most out of pocket Not Safe For Children thing ever… and Barnacles is like “Hm? What did I say? :)” like a jerk (affectionate)

If they’re having a severely hard time mentally/emotionally— maybe Barnacles isn’t in the right headspace, Kwazii is overstimulated to the point of shutting down, etc— they’re immediately at each other’s side. They don’t try to make the other feel better, they just let them feel their feelings and when they’ve gotten through them, they then try to look for anything to help.

Kwazii is a jealous husband, he sees someone getting a little TOO comfortable around his Captain, he threatens— I mean— passive aggressively tells the person to keep a safe distance.

Kwazii is protective of Barnacles and it’s obvious. But people don’t realize Barnacles is much more protective than Kwazii. You don’t know what he’s capable of if you hurt Kwazii. Barnacles is very sweet but this mf is still a polar bear with polar bear strength.

Sometimes Kwazii feels like Barnacles deserves a better partner. Kwazii just feels inadequate. Barnacles is careful and thoughtful while Kwazii is irrational and reckless. But Barnacles argues that’s why they’re so perfect for each other. Kwazii helps him learn to just not overthink things and Barnacles teaches Kwazii that sometimes you need to be careful. And when Kwazii does something stupid, Barnacles doesn’t mind keeping him out of harms way. All in all, they teach each other balance.

Barnacles knows Kwazii’s favorite spots to pet. Specifically, if Kwazii needs to calm down, Barnacles subtly pets his ears and he’s calmed down

They have arguments here and there and luckily their rooms are in a far part of the Octopod so the others don’t have to hear it most of the time. The fights aren’t major but they do have moments of saying the wrong thing and having to be alone for a bit. Kwazii is usually the one to stay the wrong thing but he apologizes (after giving Barnacles some space) and tries his best to fix it.

Kwazii is Transmasc Non-binary but he didn’t tell Barnacles when they first met. How Barnacles found out was when he accidentally walked in on him changing and saw the chest scars. Kwazii was horrified and as scared Barnacles was going to get mad at him or something. But obviously Barnacles told him not to worry and that he has the same scars (he’s Transmasc also!) + practically everyone in the crew are gay and/for trans… and safe to say Kwazii cried so hard bc he was always so scared to come out to people until that moment.

Barnacles loves to slow dance so Kwazii indulges him and they have sweet moments alone together

Witty banter is a must in their relationship. They love to fake argue and tease each other

Despite being married, Kwazii still has the habit of calling Barnacles “Captain”. On duty? Fine. But off duty, he still has issue calling his husband by his name or a nickname

Barnacles calls him nicknames like “sweetheart”, “darling” etc. And ofc Kwazii is a mess when he does that. Meanwhile Kwazii, terrible when it comes to words, calls Barnacles “matey” when tryna be romantic. And he wants to fall into a volcano afterwards lol

Double dates with friends? You bet. Dashi and Tweek? Peso and Shellington? It’s a fun time!

As for kids? They never really thought about it. Barnacles obviously loves kids and is very good with them. Kwazii is… okay with kids. But as for having kids of their own, who knows? Maybe some day they’ll settle down and raise a kitten or cub and teach them everything they know! They’d be good parents.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

I’m having serious writer’s block rn so here’s some Harringroveson/Steddilly hcs I guess:

Steve is the only one who cooks because he was taught by his mother/aunt(s)/grandma and learned old family recipes, the whole nine yards. He has a very specific way of preparing food and won’t let it be cooked any other way than the way he was taught, dammit.

Eddie’s always very clingy no matter the time of day, and both of his boyfriends appreciate and adore him endlessly for it. Billy loves hugs and Steve always gets giggly whenever his face/pretty much anywhere else is peppered in kisses.

The three of them enjoy a good horror movie, though they all prefer different sub genres and fight about it constantly. Eddie is more of a sci/fi guy, Steve prefers his slasher fics, and Billy likes psychological horror. Each of them is more scared of one of the other two options that isn’t their own preference.

Steve has no choice but to get into metal with how much his partners both listen to it. He feels left out when he doesn’t understand their references or inside jokes, so he starts picking up magazines from the checkout at Melvald’s to read up on the latest celebrity news and keeps an eye out for mentions of bands/artists that he wants to learn more about.

Billy runs so hot that he never sleeps with the covers on and sometimes even has to get up and go sleep in the living room because he can’t breathe with all of the body heat that’s clinging to him at either side.

The only neat freak among them is Steve, who has to keep everything in its designated place or else. Billy always has a healthy clutter in his various spaces, nothing too messy, while Eddie is the resident trash monster who dwells in mountains of garbage 24/7. Steve cleans up after them both and always gives them shit for being messy.

When they play fight, which is often, Billy and Steve always get the upper hand on Eddie. Steve will always beat Billy in the end because he has this way of catching him off-guard like Nala and Simba when they wrestle. Mostly because Billy underestimated him every time.

They’re all undiagnosed neurodivergent in some fashion: Steve has autism, Eddie has ADHD, and Billy has BPD. Working with/around each other’s quirks can be difficult but they do their best to communicate and figure it all out.

When it comes to trouble, Steve is the mom of the three of them because he’s very assertive and protective, and is definitely the type of person to say I’m not mad, just disappointed or try to handle the situation by himself. Billy’s like a dad in that he will fight so fiercely for the people he loves, and no one is safe from his wrath if anyone so much as inconveniences one of his partners. Eddie doesn’t have a parental-esque way of caring for others, but he is however the most like a deranged older sibling out of the three. He won’t fight people or lecture them, but he will roast them beyond recovery and make it so they’re too embarrassed to leave their house for a week minimum.

Both Billy and Eddie are so accustomed to having shitty diets that when they move in with Steve (yes, he’s the one who gets an apartment, and the other two kind of just come over one day and never leave), and they start eating real meals more often, they both get a little chubby. Billy bulks up like no one’s business, looks like a damn linebacker with his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and soft tummy that’s littered with stretch marks. Eddie doesn’t really work out much, so he’s mostly gentle curves in contrast to Billy’s muscle. Steve also has a little bit of a pouch on his lower abdomen, but he also has a higher metabolism than the other two.

Despite the two metalheads being the most involved with music in general, Steve is the least tone-deaf (I know that Eddie is in a band and is likely the lead singer as well as lead guitarist, but I feel like he has to work harder at hitting the notes than Steve does).

Billy and Eddie are affectionate in public, though they mostly stick to hugs and simple touches in passing. Neither of them invade Steve’s personal space too much as per his request because he has anxiety around being “found out” and gets overstimulated easily by public displays of physical affection and just physical affection in general in most cases.

They eventually start wearing specific rings to signify their relationship: Billy wears his on his left ring finger proudly, knowing that no one on god’s green earth is brave enough to ask him who the lucky lady is. Steve puts his on a chain and wears it under all of his shirts. Eddie’s is a pinky ring which he fondly refers to as his pimp ring, and constantly makes jokes about how his partners are his bitches. The rings are all stainless steel wedding bands, the real deal, and have “H-H-M” engraved on the side (Steve’s idea, of course, because he’s a sap).

Pls feel free to add on if you have any personal hcs that you wanna share, I love reading them :)

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Rarepair headcanons because I am ignoring my problems

Serodeku:

Izuku reenacts the Spider-Man movies with Sero. Izuku is MJ. They also alternate being Spider-Man sometimes

They skate together

They get very protective when people call their boyfriend “plain”

They play dnd together

Sero tries to make sure that izuku gets some rest

They’re both kinda insecure, izuku more than sero, but still; and they make sure to reassure each other as often as possible

Sero likes listening to Izuku’s ramblings and finds them cute. He has told izuku this, only for the poor boy to imitate a tomato

After Izuku has been particularly reckless, Sero takes advantage of his quirk, wraps Izuku in bubble wrap, and tapes it there

Tokodeku:

Jocknerd bf and goth bf, we love to see it

Tokoyami teaches izuku how to sword fight

They start a dnd club at U.A.

Izuku talks to dark shadow a lot, Dark Shadow approves of him, and has claimed the spot of best man at their wedding

Izuku comes up with ideas to help Tokoyami gain control with Dark Shadow

Dark Shadow is very protective over Izuku, no matter how many times Tokoyami tells him that he can take care of himself, Dark Shadow will put himself between Izuku and any form of danger as often as possible

Dekoyama??? Aoyama/izuku:

Aoyama gives him makeovers, obviously

Aoyama drags izuku to the mall and tries to revamp some of his wardrobe, but he actually finds the “pants” and “flannel” type shirts cute

They help each other train their quirks

Aoyama is trilingual, and teaching izuku English and French.

Izuku always brings Aoyama home some new cheese

Y’all, I love them so much. There needs to be more aodeku content

Monoshinsou:

They have people watching dates. They come up with stories for the people they’re watching; their job, family, background, etc.

They judge people together

They call each other “love”

They’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They jokingly sh*t-talk class A

Shinsou said “I love you” first, and it was because Monoma brought him coffee to class

Monoyama:

Like monoshinsou, they’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They go shopping together and pick out the most dramatic pieces of clothing for each other

I love them so much, please 😭✋

They have tea parties every week, where they sh*t talk everyone else and gossip

They are both fancy bastards, and they wear the most exquisite outfits to go grocery shopping, and the outshine everyone

They both actually make clothing, they’ll go fabric shopping together. Gift exchanges are often articles of clothing that they’ve made for each other

Momomei:

They work on gear together!!!

Momo makes sure that mei gets some sleep

Mei helps redesign momo’s suit

They often work together with izuku to work in gear and such

They actually got together after izuku introduced them. He had been working on gear with mei, and studying with momo and he thought they’d hit it off. He was correct

Shintsuyu:

Dude they’d be so cute

Tsu is a vent gremlin, and you can’t change my mind. So she and shinsou will play a game where they try to find each other. Tsu is in the vent and shinsou is in the classrooms. Shinsou will try to find whichever vent she’s in, or she’ll find whichever classroom he’s in, in 20 minutes or less

I always headcanoned tsu as a dog person, so they’d have two cats and two dogs, and a bunny that they named Deku

They like comparing their friends to animals, hence the bunny, Deku

Kamideku:

Kaminari is a flirt, and izuku does n o t know how to handle it

Kaminari likes listening to izuku’s ramblings, and can keep up with them. He’ll ask questions on things too, and Izuku has never felt more appreciated

I don’t know why I feel like they’d have so many animals, but I do. They’d have so many, man. Three cats, two dogs, four sugar gliders, a hamster

Adhd power couple. They hyperfixated on complimentary things at the same time one time

Kaminari tutors izuku in English, and izuku turots kami in some other subjects. He’s also teaching kami JSL on the side. Kaminari has a live of languages

Momochako:

Study dates, Momo asks ochako to quiz her a lot

Ochako takes to floating momo’s things when she wants attention. Especially when Momo is studying. She makes a game out of how many things she can float until the other girl notices

Uraraka’s confidence does wonders for momo’s. Uraraka always makes sure to reassure momo that she is strong and that she can do this

Momo makes Uraraka whatever her heart desires. Uraraka blushes all the time, and momo takes great pride in getting her girlfriend to blush

Minatoru:

Mina clings to everyone, but especially to toru

They give each other stuffed animals so often. They’ll go to the store to get food, and come back with three stuffed animals that reminded them of each other

Please, they’re so cute 😭✋

They will play hide and seek, I stand by this.

Mina helps toru design a new costume. I hate hers, it’s horrible, and sexist, and not suitable for a fucking child

Toru says that pink is her favorite color

They flirt with each other all the time. Half the class thinks it’s cute, half of them used to think it was cute.

Iidamomo:

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but study dates. they quiz each other, and it actually gets pretty competitive

They also have rage room dates. I will not budge on this. Iida tried to murder someone, and I am excited to see momo finally snap. She deserves it

They alternate paying for dates, don’t try me.

The go hiking a lot

They started liking each other after one late night, both having nightmares. Momo had tea, and offered some to Iida. They talked until the early hours of the morning

They can’t flirt. They try. But they’re horrible at it. They’ll compliment each other all day long, but they cannot flirt.

KIRIDEKU, MY BELOVED:

Y’all,,, y’all, I love them so much

They train together, obviously

They ran into each other one night in the common room after both having nightmares. They talked about middle school, how they were both bullied, izuku’s quirk coming in late, katsuki being abusive, kiri being bullied because his quirk wasn’t “cool.” After that, they were practically inseparable.

They started going on dates, not that either of them knew they were dates. The entire class knew, so did the teachers, so did the rest of U.A. Kirishima picked up on it first after a comment from Mina, he had is realization.

So, he started courting Izuku. Not thag izuku realized this. He brought him flowers on most ‘dates,’ he bought him hero action figures whenever he could, he complimented him until Izuku was red in the face (which was honestly very easy.) Still, izuku remained ignorant to the fact that he was indeed dating Kirishima.

The final tipping point, was due to Uraraka’s help. She was quite tired of watching the two of them pine for each other. It was amusing for the first couple months, watching Kirishima try so hard, and Deku being totally oblivious. However, she took pity on her friends after a while.

So, Uraraka devised a devilish plan to get the two together. She involved Mina, Sero, and kaminari in this plan. What was the plan, you ask? Oh, simply to trap the two in one room until they broke through izuku’s obliviousness.

Kirishima finally “straight” up admitted his feelings, to which Izuku had the sudden realization of “oh my gods, have we been dating this whole time??” Yes, Izuku. Yes you have.

They have two anniversaries after that.

Let’s be honest, they are really, annoyingly, horrifically lovey dovey. Kirishima brags about having “the manliest and bestest boyfriend in the world.” Izuku flaunts his many PowerPoint presentations on how talented and incredible Kirishima is

Uraraka doesn’t know if she did the right thing by helping them. She is so tired

Tsujirou:

Jirou makes playlists for tsu

The few sane ones in class A, I swear

They go on walks in the rain as often as they can

They go for dates in the bookstore too. They each pick out an album and a book for the other to listen to and read

Y’all, they make so much sense togetherrrrr, I’m love them 🥺

Jirou started liking tsu after the crew saved bakugou. Jirou sat with tsu after momo, Iida, kirishima, Todoroki, and izuku apologized and sat with her. They had movie night, and Jirou joined the Bakugou saving crew and tsu with taking well into the night. She just appreciated how much tsu cared

Tsu started liking Jirou after she helped Iida, momo, and izuku try to keep the class in order. She appreciated how diplomatic and calm she was

Jirou would talk to izuku all night long about how gay she was, and how adorable tsu was. So, izuku decided to try and suggest ways for Jirou to ask her out.

She did not end up getting to ask her out though, as Tsu walked up to her the next morning f and asked if she wanted to go on a date. Jirou said yes. Izuku cried

Izujirou:

They make playlists for each other

They go for runs on the beach a lot

They both have insomnia, and often spend time making blanket forts and talking, or FaceTiming and listening to music

Jirou walks into the common room once a week looking for new music. She started liking Izuku after he made a playlist for her for one of these occasions.

They’re both quite awkward when it comes to romance, but neither of them will shy away from facing the truth. So, Jirou made izuku a playlist filled with love songs that reminded her of him and sent it to him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou wrote a love song and told izuku that the song was for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou write analysis about izuku’s quirk for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell

So, then, after thinking that Jirou had done so much for him, izuku made her a playlist filled with love songs. Jirou took this to mean that izuku had finally picked up on her feelings, and accepted them.

So, they started to go on dates. Not that izuku knew this, as he is dense as hell. All leading up to izuku finally confessing his feelings on one of their ‘dates,’ to which Jirou responded, “dude, we’re already dating? Aren’t we? I- I thought that was obvious??”

May this awkward couple be forever blessed

Tokoyama:

Goth/prep boyfriends, we love to see it

At least once a day, Aoyama will proclaim that Tokoyami “shines almost as bright as he does, in his fabulous emo way”

They sword fight, and come up with really dramatic scenarios and scenes that they’re in

They bond over being in the izucrew and their shared love of swords. Aoyama took fencing classes in middle school, and Tokoyami got into sword fighting after watching it in pirates of the Caribbean as a young child. He is self taught and watched countless videos on the art of sword fighting

Tokoyami asked Aoyama our by dramatically presenting him with a dagger and going “will you accompany me on a formal outing as my lover?”

Shinyama:

They flirt constantly

No really, it’s getting quite annoying. Someone please stop them.

They both plop down in random areas and proclaim their deaths, the difference between them, is that Aoyama will burst into shinsou’s room, and yell “love, I’ve been murdered. Mourn for me” while plopping down on shinsou’s lap. Shinsou can be found laying face down outside aoyama’s door, and when Aoyama goes to open the door, he just goes “I’ve been murdered.”

^^ one time, shinsou did a very fun Halloween prank for this, where he poured fake blood all over himself for Aoyama to find him an hour later, asleep.

Nap dates. Aoyama get glitter all over shinsou’s room

Iiyama:

Aoyama enjoys making Iida blush, obviously. But he takes joy in doing it specifically when class is about to start. Aizawa is tired of his shit

Here is how I think an iiyama conversation might go:

Aoyama: I ask for one thing in this relationship-

Iida: Aoyama, you know that’s a lie-

Aoyama: for my boyfriend to carry me around all day-

Iida: Aoyama, I cannot feasibly do this with class-

Aoyama: and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for 😤

Anyway, Aoyama got carried around all day that day, despite Iida’s blush and Aizawa’s eye twitch

Everyone in the izucrew is close, but Iida and Aoyama started to get close after Iida told the crew about Stain. Aoyama wanted Iida to know that he wasn’t alone, and that he wanted to help him. So he started packing extra cheese for lunch and giving it to Iida. Iida was very confused at first. But this was Aoyama trying to court him. This was only made apparent by momo and Jirou telling Iida that this was aoyama’s attempt at expressing romantic interest.

Aoyama flirts with everyone, that’s just who he is. But with Iida? Oh it was tenfold. The poor boy was red in the face constantly. Aoyama was a persistent little bugger too, following him around and calling him ‘mon amour’

Kirikamideku:

My dearest traffic light trio, I’m love them

They train together, and kiri and kami always appreciate izuku’s analysis snd ideas

Kiri falls even more in love with izuku and kaminari when they go off on rants. Izuku rants and kami can keep up with him so he asks questions about it. Kiri loves to watch his boyfriends go on rants, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them

They started to get closer after kami and kiri found bakugou causing a ptsd flashback (could be on purpose of an accident, up to the reader.) they stated with him and tried to talk him through it. After this, izuku started to tell them about having been a “late bloomer” and being bullied, etc. (I don’t know, man; I tend to over share after flashbacks and after panic attacks)

Izuku tutors them in several subjects, but kami tutors them in English. Kiri just falls in love with his smart boyfriends

Izuku is teaching kami JSL and kami is helping izuku with English and Italian (personal headcanon that Italian has been one of kami’s special interests) kiri loves to listen to them, and finds it relaxing and calming to hear them do this. When he has panic attacks, he’ll ask them to tutor each other in different languages

[astrologyfactzzz]

🌙 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸𝑆 🌙

The Moon in the houses can reveal where and how we go about seeking emotional satisfaction.

Important clues to the reason for perpetual emotional unrest can be found through the study of the house position of the Moon, and these take the form of constant changes or ups and downs in the areas of life rules by the house. It is in these areas in that we should aim to make deep attachments rather than superficial and temporary emotional thrills if we are seeking out a true feeling of belonging and emotional fulfillment.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝑅𝑆𝑇 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

Your feelings are right out there for everyone to see, and you can come across as emotional and impatient, or nurturing and caring (or both). Your first reaction is emotional, especially if the Moon is in close proximity (within 10 degrees) of the Ascendent degree. You need emotional stimulation, movement and freedom to express yourself in order to feel happy and fulfilled.

Your moods are very changeable, and this can be quite obvious to others. Because of your emotional sensitivity, you might often take things too personally, and react too quickly. Developing an awareness that others‘ emotions are just as important, even if they are not as overt and immediate as yours, will be important.

You have a soft exterior and tend to relate very personally and sympathetically to other people. However, you sometimes let your emotions overpower your reasoning and logic, and consequently, you are sometimes biased in your opinions. You are impressionable and rather gentle, or at least that is the way you appear. Your feelings are on the surface and you can not hide your emotions.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝐸𝐶𝑂𝑁𝐷 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

When it comes to money, you can be generous and frivolous in your spending habits one day, and frugal the next. You can be quite afraid of being in debt, and you need to feel secure and safe. This is likely also true of savings, as you fear being without.

Still, there are times when you can spend impulsively, on a whim, and this is likely when you are feeling emotionally frustrated. You might also hold onto people quite tightly. Vanity can be an issue. You are often looking for admiration, and you can be quite dependent on others for positive feedback until you learn to develop your own feelings of self-worth. You’re not as emotionally responsive as most people. You tend to hold back and wait before expressing yourself, and when you do it is with deliberation.

You are likely to be a great collector of things - a real pack rat in fact - for your belongings give you a sense of security and continuity with the past, which is important to you. Antiques or things with sentimental value from your past are especially dear to you.

You may also cling rather tightly to both money and possessions, keeping them "in the family" rather then sharing freely with those outside of your immediate circle.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝐷 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

You are very responsive, communicative and curious. You can have a talent for imitating others and/or for picking up languages. You might either intellectualize your emotions rather than truly feel them and deal with them, or you communicate with excessive emotion. Some of you may do both at different times, and as you mature and develop, you learn to find balance.

Your opinions and ideas change often, and you might find that sometimes you adopt others’ points of view and express their ideas as if they were your own. This is not necessarily because you are a copy-cat, but because you sometimes fail to own your own thoughts, and you are so sensitive to others’ opinions. You might be quite nervous and restless, requiring frequent changes of scenery, even if the moment or travel takes place locally.

You often make decisions solely for emotional or personal reasons, because something “feels right” or because you’ve always done it a certain way and you are uncomfortable changing it. Even when you think you’re being rational, your prejudices, intuitions, and feelings influence your thoughts a great deal. You are comfortable talking about feelings and personal subjects, and sharing confidences, which enables others to express their own inner feelings with you as well. You have good psychological insight into others.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑈𝑅𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

You long for a sense of true belonging, but may be quite restless in your search. You might change residence frequently, or simply feel the need to make many changes in your home.

Moving frequently may be a healthy thing if it keeps you emotionally stimulated, but if you find that you do so on whims and later regret the changes, you might want to treat it as a symptom of emotional unrest - as a sign that you are in a constant search for the perfect mood setting, when in fact a feeling of belonging should be worked on from the inside out, not the outside in! Some of you might remain rather immature on an emotional level, never wanting to truly grow up and take care of yourself. Attachments to your past, traditions and family are strong.

You have strong attachments to your past, the places where you grew up, your heritage and family traditions. In fact, you may be unable to step out of the habits and roles you learned as a child. Your tie to your mother is very strong and you also seek mothering and protection from your spouse and other family members as well.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐹𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

You love to share emotional experiences with loved ones and have a flair for the dramatic. Love affairs are magnetic and intense, and you don’t take them lightly by any means, although you may go through much change with regard to your romance. You are attached to children, wether they’re your own or not. Your creative hobbies are subject to relatively frequent changes, and you have innate artistic talent. You have a vivid imagination and are given to daydreaming often. There is a sense that you, are always in touch, or trying to get in touch, with your inner child.

If the Moon is challenged, you may have problems with impulsive shopping or gambling or with frequent love affairs that never fully satisfy you. In any of these cases, you are more attached to the game than the player, and this is something to work on if you are looking to find true fulfillment. You might take risks just for the fun of it, but in the process, you are being irresponsible to others and yourself.

You are emotionally expressive and often dramatize your feelings, acting them out or blowing them out of proportion. You can not hide your instinctive emotional reactions to people or situations, and you don’t make any pretenses about your personal sympathies or antipathies.

You have a childlike openness and playfulness which is very appealing to others, but which sometimes gets you into trouble, as you take risks on impulse or whim.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝐼𝑋𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

You have an emotional need to be useful, to work productively, to be organized and on top of things, and to lead a healthy life. If these matters are chaotic in your life, it’s a symptom of emotional unrest. You need a lot of variety on the job–to be stimulated and engaged in order to feel happy. Some of you might seem to change jobs often, forever in search of the “perfect fit” job. Acceptance that any job requires some level of routine is hard for you.

You are very sensitive, and especially aware of minor health annoyances or body aches and pains. Some of you have hypochondriac symptoms. Some attempt to get out of things they don’t want to do by emphasizing health problems or even exaggerate illnesses in order to gain sympathy. At your best, however, you’re a person who always helps out and shows your affection for others in practical ways in order to help them solve problems and improve their lives.

You have a sympathetic nature and instinctively reach out to people in need of help. You also have a deeply ingrained tendency to want to improve or “fix” other people’s lives, which can be annoying to the person who has no desire to be changed or “helped” in this way. For you, affection and caring must be expressed in tangible acts or service of some kind.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

You are drawn to partnerships and prefer to have a companion for emotional support. You are not a person who would happily take in a movie by yourself, or dine alone, for example. A partner awakens feelings in you that you may never know you had, and you seem to need a partner to learn about your own needs and feelings.

You seek emotional fulfillment through relationships, but you may have many relationships one after another, each time believing that this is “the one.” Taking time between relationships is something that is hard for you to do, but quite necessary, as you tend to jump into relationships out of fear of being alone.

You are very adaptable to others’ needs, and usually quite likeable as a result. Be careful that you don’t become overly dependent on a partner, or assume that a partner is going to treat you the same way as you do them.

You depend a great deal upon other people for emotional support and you have a large “family” of friends that care about you and treat you as kin. The women in your life are particularly important to you, and your relationship with them powerfully influences your sense of security and happiness. You may be overly dependent and unsure of yourself without a close partner.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

While you have a strong need for emotional security, you are also a person who is drawn to pushing your own limits, and many lifestyle changes can be the result of this need to challenge, or reinvent, yourself emotionally. You are always fascinated with how people work, taboos, secrets, and all that is forbidden or hidden. Sexual unrest, or an apparent need to constantly change sexual partners or to challenge yourself sexually, may be a symptom of emotional insecurity.

Connecting with another person intimately is an emotional need, but your changeable emotions might often get in the way of your goal. Jealousy and possessiveness might also be qualities you struggle with. At your best, however, you are a person who is intimate, deep, and intensely loyal to a partner.

Though you want closeness very much, you often close yourself off and do not really trust others who may wish to get to know you. You are very wholehearted in your feelings and responses to people, and you want all or nothing from the people you care for.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑁𝐼𝑁𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

This is a position that can indicate a deep longing for stimulation above and beyond the everyday, mundane routine. You are a philosophical sort, interested and curious about the world, other people, and perhaps different cultures. You can be extremely restless and discontented if you don’t have a definite goal in mind.

You might find yourself longing to be somewhere else when you are unhappy, imagining that if you were to move or travel, you would be much happier. However, this attitude can only keep you from enjoying and improving upon the situation you are now in, only serving to make you feel more unhappy in the present and with your current circumstances.

Trying to avoid the attitude that “the grass is greener on the other side” will be important, while attending to your needs to get away from time to time will help scratch the seemingly incurable itch for something more.

You may have done extensive traveling in your early years, or in some way had a background which enables you to understand and identify with many different types of people or cultures.

You have a craving for things which are far away and foreign or for things you have never experienced before. You want to completely immerse yourself in the feelings and tastes of a new place, rather than simply have facts or an intellectual appreciation. Emotionally, too, you are restless and something of a wanderer.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑇𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

This position of the Moon indicates an emotional need for recognition, popularity, acknowledgement, and achievement. You can be quite charismatic. You are at your emotional best when you lead a structured and responsible life, but it can take time to get there.

You may change your goals and ambitions, and/or your profession frequently in an attempt to find the perfect fit. You may worry about living up to your image, or the expectations of your family. Decisions may be too emotionally biased, or you might act on emotional whims far too often. Learning to set your own heartfelt goals is the challenge here, as it is unlikely you will find true happiness if you follow or adopt the expectations of others, which you are especially sensitive to.

You work well with the public and have an instinct for what the public wants and will respond to. Having a “nest” is not especially important to you, and you may invest more of your emotional energy into your career or public life than in your private life. Providing for and caring for others in a professional capacity is very likely.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝐿𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

This position of the Moon indicates an emotional need for a feeling of belonging with, and support from, friends and associations with groups. You look to acquaintances for support, and offer the same in return. A changeable or unstable social life might be a reflection of inner emotional unrest. Waxing and waning feelings for others can cause problems in your relationships.

You are a person who is filled with many dreams, wishes, and hopes for your future, and most of these are altruistic and good-hearted desires. However, you might change your aspirations frequently, with your changing moods, and have a hard time settling on goals to work towards as a result.

You get a lot of emotional fulfillment through your involvement in groups, clubs, organizations, community activities, or a network of close friends who support and care for you. You make friends your family, and feel a close kinship with people who share some ideals or beliefs that you hold dear. You need people outside of your physical family to relate to and belong to.

🌙 𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑁 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑇𝑊𝐸𝐿𝑇𝐻 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 🌙

This position of the Moon indicates an emotional attachment and sensitivity to all that is ethereal, groundless, and eternal. As sensitive as you are, you often have delayed reactions to your own emotional experiences. You need frequent moments of solitude in order to recharge yourself emotionally, and this need, while strong, can also lead to feelings of isolation and of being misunderstood.

While you are a perceptive person, you are often either flooded with emotions that are hard to define, or completely out of touch with what you are feeling. Either extreme keeps you from truly discovering your emotional needs. Negative expressions of this position are avoidance of responsibility, using hypersensitivity as an excuse to oneself (and perhaps to others) for not participating, or emotional immaturity. You are sympathetic to others’ suffering, but not always emotionally available to help.

Your own feelings and emotions are something of an enigma to you, and it is often difficult for you to share with others what you are feeling. You frequently withdraw from contact with the world, and need a healing, peaceful environment in order to blossom and come out of yourself. You identify with the oppressed, disenfranchised or underdog in any situation and want to help them or care for them in some way.

[wri0thesley]

thank you for infecting me with total naoya brain rot, nat. can i request a breeding kink scenario with him and curvy, thick reader that he thinks looks perfect for bearing him an heir 👀 feel free to make him as nasty as you want, i love to read about this absolute trash fire of a man

Covet - Naoya x Fem!Reader (3.6k)

Naoya wants something from you - you see a chance to get something you want too.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. breeding. power imbalance (reader is a maid at the zen’in estate). talk of pregnancy, knives, misogyny, fingering, coming inside/creampies. the mandatory warning that this fic is about naoya.

You are fairly certain that Naoya Zenin does not know whether you exist. If he has ever noticed you attending to your duties, so much lower and less important than he, he probably doesn’t like you.

At least, you did not think he liked you before this moment. Even now, with his hands on your hips and your body pressed flush against the wall outside his chambers, you’re not certain – there’s a weight to the way he’s holding you, a twist to his lips that you can see from where your cheek has met cool wallpaper. He looks like he’s considering you; sizing you up.

Your cheeks burn as he sizes up your lower half, eyes tracing your hips and ass and thighs without even a hint of remorse, as if it’s his god-given right to look upon you like this even though you’ve barely ever spoken more than a cursory polite; ‘I brought you this, Sir’. That’s what you’ve been taught to do.

Be respectful, stick to the shadows, do what you’re told. It’s an honour to serve the Zenin clan, it’s an honour to be here in the estate – it’s an honour to get a brief moment of any of their time, even if they’re just making demands on you. You sometimes hate yourself, for not being born one of them - you want, you want, you want, like a physical ache. The luxury. The nice treatment. People to think that you merely blessing them with a look is an honour--

It’s an especial honour to be worth Naoya’s time – everybody knows that he’s going to be the next leader. There are always rumours buzzing around the grounds about him; about his power, about his temper, about his personality . . . about which pretty young woman he’ll make his wife and have beside him to rule the clan.

You’re brought back to what’s currently happening by his hands sliding down from where he is clinging onto your hips, generously tracing the curve, admiring just how broad they are.

“Pity you have to hide beneath that,” he says, smirking. Your cheeks are hot. “You’re pretty, you know. At least. . .” One hand moves from your hip, thumb and forefinger squeezing your cheeks to turn them more thoroughly towards him. He looks entirely unruffled by the situation, every inch of him at ease that you will bend to what he wants. “Your body is pretty.” Eyes scan over your face, and you’re suddenly aware of every imperfection, every feature you’ve ever scrutinised. “Hm. Not bad either.”

“I . . . I don’t understand,” You find yourself breathing. He raises one elegant eyebrow. The hand that’s on your hip moves, tracing the plush of your ass through fabric, his lip curling into a smirk. He presses a little bit forward and you feel something stiff press against your other cheek (the one not occupied by his hand) – and your throat goes dry as you realise precisely what he means.

Oh.

Oh.

You should run. Good girls do not do what Naoya wants you to do. You have duties to attend to! You have things that must be done, lest your seniors sigh and tut at you and punish you for neglecting your work. But your throat is very dry and your heart is pounding and there is suddenly a strange twist of heat low in your gut, as Naoya Zenin looks down at you with the air of a man who will devour you if you let him.

You can’t deny it’s thrilling to be wanted – more thrilling to be wanted by someone like him.

“I’ll give you ten seconds,” he says, and his tone is patronising. “If you don’t want me to take you to bed and fuck you, I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

He says it so openly, so brazenly – you suppose that’s what comes of being born into this family. He has nothing to fear in these walls. Not like you.

You imagine yourself underneath him for a second, his hair in disarray, hakama abandoned, his perfectly composed face twisted in pleasure. You should not go to his bed. But . . . you want to. And don’t you deserve something you want, when you’ve spent your entire life watching other people enjoy it?

“You don’t need to,” you breathe, swallowing. Naoya pulls back in amusement, his eyes darkening. He seems so much taller and stronger than you. Even swathed in fabric, it’s clear that there is muscle and strength beneath the clothes. He has been trained to within an inch of his life since the day he was born. He makes a considering noise in the back of his throat. A thumb trails over your cheek.

“Are you sure about that?” The smirk in his voice says that he knows you are. “I won’t be gentle with you, you know. I don’t have all day to romance you. I just want to get you on your back . . .” His thumb slides over your jawline, past your earlobe, until he’s taken a hank of your hair and yanks it back roughly, exposing your throat and making you gasp. “And fuck a son into you.”

He must see the look on your face, because he laughs, the sound cruel even to your ears. He’s still pressed so close to you. Nobody who walked down this hallway would mistake the embrace the two of you were currently in for anything clandestine. You suppose he has nothing to worry about – but your reputation? He’d ruin you for marriage.

“Come on,” he murmurs, chuckling. “Have you seen yourself? You’re made for bearing a child, sweetheart.” The pet name is almost mocking, but your heart skips a beat anyway. “Don’t worry too much. You don’t think I could take care of you, if you carried my heir? You’re a servant, right? You already know how to behave.” His smile is like a wolf. “So, I give you my word that if it takes, I’ll take care of you. Sounds fair, huh?” He jerks on your hair again. “Ten seconds,” he reminds you. “If you want to get out of it. You don’t think there are girls lining up around the block to have me?”

(Judging by the whispers about him, you actually don’t think there are – but judging from Naoya’s eyes, he certainly thinks so.)

He lets go. He steps back. His eyes are still on you, but he raises his arms either side of him as if to show you that you’re free to go. And you do consider it – you let the possibility of running flicker through your head. It’s quickly replaced by the thought of Naoya on top of you, an end to the aching between your legs, and the knowledge of just how you might be treated if Naoya did succeed in his mission.

It’s fine to want nice things, every once in a while.

“Five,” he says, warningly, but his eyes are dark with hunger. “Four. Three.”

You turn towards his bedroom door and grasp the handle, and he laughs, the sound very loud.

“Oh,” he says, “so you’re going to be fun.”

The minute his bedroom door clicks behind him, Naoya wastes no time on being on you. He’s full throttle, immediately – hands pulling at your clothes, rough, his mouth on your neck. He avoids your mouth, like he doesn’t quite want to kiss you – but as you bite back a moan as he nips at your throat and he groans in response at the noise, you realise that he wants to hear you.

Figures a man like that wants the reassurance that you’re enjoying yourself. Figures he wants to crow over every whimper that drops from your lips. Hands pull at your kimono, almost ripping it in his hurry to have the fabric out of his way and on the floor. You barely even notice he’s been pushing you across the room until you’re pushed hard down, and your back meets pillows and sheets instead of the floor.

The way you fall makes a perfect tableaux; the material of your outfit pooling around you, your body in the middle of it, clad in only your underwear. His light eyes rake over you hungrily.

“Fuck,” he says. His hands immediately go to your hips, thumbs pressing hard into the soft flesh. You barely fit in his hands, the curve of you dramatic. “You’re going to be perfect for this, huh? Look at you. It’s a fucking shame you’re not knocked up right now--”

Your body reacts to his touch and his look, though you can’t help but be embarrassed by it – it’s one thing to be entranced by someone pretty, you think, but it’s another thing to be entranced by the idea of how pretty someone will look when their stomach is swollen and their breasts have swelled and their hips have filled out because they’re bearing your child.

He doesn’t bother with unclipping your bra. He reaches into his hakama and panic flashes before your eyes when he pulls out a knife, but he uses it merely to slice the gore between your bra cups, right between the cute bow adorning them.

“I—I liked that,” you say, but your voice sounds very wobbly in the room, under Naoya’s gaze, under his hands. He snorts.

“I like you better without it,” he says shortly, as if your likes and dislikes are not a consideration to be taken into account. For him, you suppose they’re not. “Besides.” Hands travel from your hips to cup your breasts, squeezing the meat of the mounds so that you groan and arch your back, desire pooling between your legs. “I wanted to see these. I wanted to touch them.” He grins. “I wanted to imagine how nice they’re going to look when they get bigger.”

He squeezes the point of each of your nipples, so hard that the pleasure almost becomes pain.

“I think I’ll leave marks on you,” he says, conversationally. He pulls an arm back and suddenly has slapped you, your breast stinging, a brief imprint of his hand showing on your skin. He admires how your breast moves with the force – you’re too surprised to even make a noise of pain. “Good girl. I want you to remember how I feel when we’re done.”

You don’t think you could forget. You definitely can’t forget the sting of the second slap, this one making you moan – it hurts, but part of it feels good to be marked by him. You definitely can’t forget his thumbs hooking into your underwear, dragging it past your thighs – the way that he drinks in the wet patch on the fabric. You definitely don’t think you’ll be able to forget the chuckle that leaves his mouth as he spreads your thighs and sees your sex for the first time, already slick.

“You like being treated rough, huh?” He asks you. There’s that grin again; a predator, a man who has never been told no, a man who doesn’t know what it’s like to not have everything he has ever wanted at his fingertips. “Good. I like playing rough.”

He still doesn’t kiss you. He dives his head down, though, his teeth once more nipping at your neck, at your breast, tongue lathing across your nipples. One of his hand delves between your legs, spreading the plump labia, fingers briefly stroking your clit and sending a hot bolt of lightning all through you.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, as he pushes a finger inside of you. You’re slick and tight around his digits, hot and silky – one of his fingers alone is like a vice. You’re going to feel so good. He doesn’t much care whether his cock hurts you or not – but he wants you to be so fucked out by the time he’s come inside you that you don’t care about him leaving your legs propped up so not a single trickle of come leaks out of you. He doesn’t want a whimpering little bitch in his bed – he wants someone who’ll lie there, patiently, prettily, and let him make sure it takes.

You’re going to be good for that, he knows it. With a body like that, and eyes like that, and a clear longing for something better than the shitty hand you’ve been dealt? Oh, yes. You might not know it, but Naoya likes you immensely.

That you’re a servant, who’s been taught your place - that you’ll look at the ground respectfully and walk behind him and agree to whatever he says, like women should? Even better. Perfect. Fuck any of those snooty young women of a clan who think that just because they were born with a name, they were somehow more than a cunt for breeding--

Two fingers. This one gets a cry from you, almost too full – Naoya clicks his tongue against his teeth. He’s not patient, but he slows down, scissoring you open. One of your hands seems to flex out as if going to grab his bicep – but thinks better of it, clutching for purchase on the bed instead. Cute.

He can’t help but watch his fingers dive in and out of you, already coated in your liberal slick. They already look so good – he can’t even imagine how good his cock will look, hilted so deep in you he’s all you can feel.

Three fingers. You’re making soft little noises, circling your hips – there’s a coil in your belly that Naoya’s fingers are stoking in a way you didn’t expect, one that you feel like you’re so close to getting to spring forth – he slides his fingers out of you as he feels you tightening and tensing around him. If you’re close enough to come on his fingers, he reasons, you’re close enough to take his cock.

He didn’t expect to be so entranced by how pretty you looked, all curves and soft on his bed – but there’s time for that later. Right now, his cock is driving a hole through his own underwear. The thought of fucking his seed into you, of having you coming around his cock . . . you moan in frustration at the lack of stimulation as his hands busy themselves peeling off his own clothes.

“What’s the matter?” He asks you, a little breathless. You don’t notice that – good. He hates people witnessing weakness. “You need to be filled up?”

“I—” your teeth dig into your bottom lip, and Naoya has the urge to kiss you that he pushes back.

Not now. Not yet. Not while you’re still scum. He can transform you, and maybe you’ll be worthy of that – but right now, you’re an empty shell, and Naoya needs to mould you into something fuller and better before he’ll lower himself to brush his lips over your own. That’s too intimate. That’s too much.

“You don’t need to use your words,” he purrs. “You’re soaking wet.”

You urge your thighs further apart as Naoya’s clothes slip off of him and you see his cock jutting proud against his stomach. You haven’t had much experience to know whether it’s a nice cock, whether he’s big – but Naoya grins when he sees you looking, ferocity sparking in his expression.

“You may as well look at it,” he tells you, “because it’s going to be buried inside you in just a moment--”

He’s on the bed, his body on top of yours. His hands are clinging to the hips he’s admired so much, his grip tight enough to mark. His face is close enough that you can see the sculpt of his lips and the fan of his eyelashes, the dark pupils. The wet head of his cock smears precome on your thigh as he positions himself at your entrance – and as he sinks inside, your body welcomes him.

He hisses in fluid pleasure as his cock descends inside of you inch by slow, inexorable inch – the stretch, the burn, the slick fluid pleasure. This time, one of your hands does find purchase on his shoulder – but Naoya is enjoying the feeling of your walls kissing his cock, embracing him tight and deep, too much to snap at you for being such an insolent thing. Your nails leave little crescent moon marks in his shoulder that he decides to forgive. After all – you’ll have bruises in the shape of his handprints tomorrow, he knows it. He doesn’t have a single crumb of shame about it.

If he gets his way, you’ll have more than just those as a mark of tonight. He hilts inside you, his skin pressing hot against yours. You’re so full – he feels so very deep, buried as far as he can go. All of your breath has been knocked out of you.

Your eyes meet his for just a moment.

“Better hold on,” he tells you. “I told you I wouldn’t be gentle.”

The first pull out is swift, immediately thrusting back inside you with such force that your body rocks on the bed. He wasn’t lying about not being gentle; his hips quickly establish a punishing rhythm, helped along by the slick glide of your channel, the wetness leaking around his cock. He pulls you a little with every thrust, the hands on his hips assisting him being able to watch his cock drive in and out of your sex. It’s a mark of the strength he has that the only sign that you weigh anything at all is a huff of breath in between his thrusts – you’ve never exactly felt delicate  in your life, but something about Naoya’s way of handling you makes you think that he could break you in half if he tried.

That is, if his rough thrusts in and out of you don’t split you in two first. You give up trying to do anything other than hold onto him, your mouth dropping open in a series of wordless wails and moans.

(Naoya prefers quiet women, he has to admit – but there’s something endearing about you giving up in bed, giving yourself to him in voice as well as body. Perhaps he doesn’t mind a loud woman, as long as the reason she’s loud is because he’s fucking her silly).

His skin slaps against your skin. The sound mixes with your own whimpers and gasps, Naoya’s quieter breathing, the embarrassingly wet sounds of his cock plunging in and out of you. The release that was denied to you earlier with his fingers is creeping back up on you again, all hot pleasure and tight tension. With every thrust, Naoya is hitting a spot amongst your plush walls that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your body all hot and needy. He doesn’t care if you come, really – this isn’t about you – but . . . just another of those things he supposes he could get used to, as the ball of pleasure inside of you finally unravels and you feel yourself come.

And oh, he could get used to that feeling too – how your walls pulsate around him, pulling his cock tighter inside of you, practically milking him. His hips just get faster, snapping against you like a man possessed – heh. Isn’t that funny?

Your chest is heaving, but he’s enjoying the feel of your hips too much to play with your tits again. When they’re all swollen with milk and bigger and rounder, he’ll probably fuck you again, slower . . . and then, he’ll get his feel of touching them. Just like he’ll get his feel of your thighs even plusher, your stomach rounder, your hips even better in his grip--

It’s those thoughts that push him over the edge. Your body softened and rounded with his child – his son, his heir. You’re fucking perfect for it. He groans, his hips snapping and driving so deep inside you that you think he’ll break – and then, he’s groaning, and his cock is pulsing inside you as the sensation of his come painting your walls hot and thick overtakes your senses.

He pumps his cock a few more times inside of you after the initial release, as if he’s trying to push his seed even further within you. You’re shuddering, exhausted, your body aching – and so, you don’t argue beyond a soft noise of pain at the unpleasant prickle as he pulls his cock out of you. You don’t argue when he slides a pillow beneath your hips and says;

“Keep your legs bent like that.”

Naoya takes a moment to admire you. Your pretty cunt is darkened from his aggressive fucking, clit swollen, slick with your own desire-- he frowns as he notices a drop of something whiter and thicker. That won’t do. Two fingers roughly push his come back into you, pressing it deeply, making you groan and your hips weakly thrust against them.

It’s cute that you’re still welcoming to his fingers; that your sex still sucks them in as if it’s greedy to be fucked again. Your eyes are half-lidded, glassy – your lips bitten dark. He thinks he could fuck you again and you wouldn’t even complain.

Yes. He grins at you. Give it a little while, to make sure his come takes – and then, he thinks, he will fuck you again. There’s no harm in being thorough, right?

[bibbykins]

Insufferable

A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!

Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one

Word count: 3.6k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.

Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too

There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.

You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.

Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.

You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.

Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.

Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.

Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.

“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”

“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?

You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”

“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”

Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.

“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”

“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.

“No, but I know how you look naked-”

“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.

“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.

“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.

“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”

“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.

You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-

You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.

Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-

“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.

Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?

You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.

You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.

The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.

“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.

He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.

You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.

“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”

“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.

“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.

You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.

Old habits die hard.

Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.

The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.

Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.

You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.

“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.

You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?

Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.

You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.

He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.

I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.

I’m so tired.

-Mom

Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.

“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.

“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”

He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.

No thanks to him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”

“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.

“Wh-”

He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.

However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.

"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.

You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”

Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.

He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.

His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.

He froze.

Fuck, what food do you like?

He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.

Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.

Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.

He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.

Tip Jar

[gffa]

I’m not going to reply to the original ask, it was a little too long (look, sometimes I am watching out for your guys’ dashes! 😂) and the quotes selected aren’t really relevant to the answer, because there are two things at play here: 1.  The big, thorny discussion of Star Wars “lore”.  Like, I cannot even begin to describe what a pain in the ass it is to try to set up the structure of a discussion--are we taking books written in 2010, before TCW was even finished, on the same level as GL’s commentary?  That’s not a snide question, it’s a genuine query about the structure of the discussion. (And it’s setting aside the question of whether or not to include word of god commentary at all, because it’s perfectly valid not to!  But this is a discussion about GL’s word of god commentary, so it’s going to include it.) 2.  Attachment is not the same thing as love or connection with others.  Attachment is the specific clinging, grasping inability to live without the other person for your sake, rather than for theirs.  It’s about your happiness at having them in your life, rather than them being happy.  It’s about how you would rather burn down the galaxy to keep them than you would rather live without them. Attachment absolutely is a path to the dark side, that’s explicitly stated by word of god commentary.  That’s just how it works in Star Wars.  A quote from Star Wars Archives:      “[Jedi Knights] do not grow attachments, because attachment is a path to the dark side. You can love people, but you can’t want to possess them. They’re not yours. Accept that they have a fate. Even those you love most are going to die. You can’t do anything about that. Protect them with your lightsaber, but if they die they were going to die, there’s nothing you can do. All you can do is accept that fact.      “In mythology, if you go to Hades to get them back you’re not doing it for them, you’re doing it for yourself. You’re doing it because you don’t want to give them up. You’re afraid to be without them. The key to the dark side is fear. You must be clean of fear, and fear of loss is the greatest fear. If you’re set up for fear of loss, you will do anything to keep that loss from happening, and you’re going to end up in the dark side. That’s the basic premise of Star Wars and the Jedi, and how it works.      “That’s why they’re taken at a young age to be trained. They cannot get themselves killed trying to save their best buddy when it’s a hopeless exercise.” –George Lucas Attachment, when Star Wars uses it, is not a good or healthy thing, so this whole conversation about how “the Jedi should allow attachments!” is disagreeing with how the world of SW functions, it’s saying that the Jedi should be on a path to the dark side then, that they should be willing to kill anyone in their path just to find a way to stop death from happening because they don’t want to live without the person. That’s why the Jedi forbid attachment, because it’s unhealthy and dangerous for them as space psychics and can hurt a whole lot of people.  What they don’t forbid is caring about people, loving people, even specific people.  I mean, nobody looks at Obi-Wan and Anakin in the movies or TCW, sees how they genuinely care about and love each other very specifically, and says that that’s bad or that they’re too close, their teaching system includes a specific Master and Apprentice combination that naturally lends itself to caring about that specific person and nobody ever says they’re not allowed or that it’s bad.  Even in ROTS, when Obi-Wan says he can’t kill Anakin specifically, Yoda doesn’t say that Obi-Wan shouldn’t care, but instead recognizes that care and says that Anakin’s gone.  He even tries to keep Obi-Wan from the pain of seeing the security footage because he knows Obi-Wan cares very much about Anakin specifically and never indicates that that’s an inherently bad thing. What they do say is that being a Jedi is a commitment on par with a marriage to this life and you can’t have two marriages, because you can’t be wholly committed to two things.  And you should be committed to your spouse, if you’re going to marry them!  You should be able to prioritize your life around them!  You should be able to make decisions based on your relationship with them!  But Jedi are put in situations where they have to be completely neutral and, if they fall prey to being willing to do anything to prioritize someone, then that can really hurt people. And this isn’t just romantic relationships, either!  For example:  In Master and Apprentice, Rael Averross has become attached to Princess Fanry, to the point that he doesn’t see her for who she really is, he’s willing to nearly fuck over literal millions of people, to disenfranchise them out of their ability to vote, because he wants Fanry to be happy, because his feelings about her (and his unresolved issues with the death of his Padawan) led him to prioritize her feelings over his duty.  And those people were counting on him to be responsible to them. The bio-families thing is separate from this discussion--for one, it’s putting biological relationships as the most important solely for being biological, like it doesn’t matter that the Jedi raised them as their family, it’s more important who their blood relatives are?  And, second, they do know that information, there’s a Jedi Knight who is perfectly well aware of their family in Heir to the Jedi. Or things like--where was it said in TCW or the movies that Anakin wasn’t allowed to talk to Shmi because the Jedi said no?  Yes, I’m aware that some Legends books say that, but that circles us back to, “Do you put a 2003 novel on the same level as George Lucas’ canon and commentary?  Are we discussing the relationship between GL’s commentary and the source material he created OR are we talking about how consistent other authors’ supplementary material is to GL’s commentary?” Ultimately, within the content that GL produced (the six movies + TCW), the Jedi are consistent with GL’s commentary about what attachment is and what it isn’t and how they act.  And sometimes supplementary material are not always going to be consistent with what GL put out, especially because GL himself was extremely clear that he wasn’t really super involved with the books and comics.