#it's just difficult for me because I don't handle change very well

[alexiroflife]

how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw. 

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly. 

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles. 

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him. 

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older. 

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be. 

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think. 

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself? 

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly. 

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides. 

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms. 

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together. 

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be. 

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟻

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), language, sexual tension, misogynistic language, toxic masculinity mentioned, some fluff

Word Count: 4777

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

1986

Ben took a firm hold of your throat as you hung onto the table underneath you and continued to pound you with forceful movements with his cock. With one strong thrust in between curses, his fingers around your throat from the back grew even tighter until he began to spill inside of you, releasing a loud growl on top of you. He then pressed his hips against your ass. You were convinced that, if you were a regular supe, you would break under the intense pressure he applied to you as he continued to penetrate you while he choked you hard.

That was just one of those moments when he didn't really care if you came with him or not.

When Ben finished spilling inside you, he gave you a very hard spanking on your ass after withdrawing his hand from your throat. “That felt good, but you need to learn how to stay silent and stay still when I fuck your cunt,” he grumbled. 

You muttered, “I don't like it when you're being too harsh on me,” as he stared in awe at the thick ropes dripping from your swollen pussy. 

He whispered, “Come on,” planting a kiss on your forehead before gathering his cum and inserting it into your pussy. “You're a supe; you can't even feel sore; you heal in seconds.”

“Yes, but in any case, I don't like it. You could try to be a little more kind.” 

“You're complaining way too much nowadays.”

“I simply want you to be a little more sympathetic. Is it too much for you?” As you waited for him to finish, you looked at him with a pained expression.

“Are you angry because I didn't let you come?” showed his amusement at your sour attitude.

Since you knew Ben's character from the start and you didn't voice any complaints for months, Ben failed to understand the recent change in your attitude. But he felt a little uncomfortable because you were attempting to get closer to him throughout the sexual interaction lately.

“It's difficult to resist giving you a quick fuck when you're wearing that sexy suit, as it makes me so fucking aroused. You already know that I'm not easy to handle, but I'll do my best to be gentle, okay?” he said, since he did not want you to leave his van with a sad face after a satisfying sexual activity. After all, you were trying your best to satisfy his needs.

He kept his cum within yours and played with your clit a little bit longer as you remained motionless. Given how often you had sex in a single day, you were fortunate that your superior genetics prevented you from being pregnant. 

You asked him, “Will you be joining the after party when Gala is over?” as he tucked himself in his pants. 

Ben said in a harsh voice, “Of course,” watching you adjust your skirt and pull up your soaked underwear while avoiding eye contact. “But I need something to do first.”

You answered, “Okay,” knowing that he wouldn't answer any more questions. 

He noticed that you were wearing an unhappy expression as you hurriedly fixed your messy hair, and he gave you a long, gentle kiss on the nape of your neck while giving you a warm hug from behind. “I'll be more gentle next time.”

“You say the same thing every time, yet every time you get harsher with me.” You said in an icy voice, “I'm not sure if you're trying to beat me or fuck me, Ben.”

Ben immediately turned you toward him as his body tensed. “I'm not trying to harm you in any way, of course. I just know that you are extremely strong. Nothing is capable of harming you.” 

“Well, my body might not be vulnerable, but my feelings are,” you said with a sigh. When you realized he had no idea how harsh he was on you, you attempted to break free of his hug. 

Ben tightened his hold around your abdomen to keep you from escaping him. “Okay, I got the message. The next time, I'll be as slow and gentle as you wish.” 

You just gave him a nod.

He felt a little guilty for being too harsh after seeing the hurt expression on your face, so he kissed you gently on the lips and ran his fingers over your cheek. 

“I'm not trying to harm you in any way. It's just difficult to maintain control when I'm with you, but I promise I'll do better. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Ben,” you said in a whisper as you gave him a quick kiss in return and gave in to his hug. 

As he began to dance with you and spin you around, he grabbed one of your hands. He leaned back and kissed you firmly in between your giggles, saying, “I'll be a good fucking gentleman when I'm dancing with you tonight, though you don't know how to dance properly like me.” 

Ben entered Stan Edgar's room, took a quick look around, and then sat down in front of the large table in front of the chair. 

Ben lit a cigarette inside the room and asked, “Why did you invite me to your feet this time?”

“Let's just have a nice little conversation,” he stated, casting a disapproving glance at Ben's cigarette. 

“About?”

“How is Payback doing overall? I heard that you haven't been as excited to go to film events lately.”

“Who fucking told you this?” Ben inquired, annoyed that people were constantly informing him about his behavior as if he were just a kid. 

“Remember that everyone is constantly watching you, so try not to get too worked up too soon. After all, you're the biggest and strongest Supe ever—Soldier Boy.”

Star Edgar said, “How's your relationship with Y/N?” when Ben didn't respond and kept smoking. 

“What relationship?” Ben, displeased with Stan Edgar's cunning tone, asked aggressively. He was constantly up to something.

“You don't need to keep it a secret from me. My eyes are always on everything, all at once, as you are already aware. You're continuously in her van, or she's in yours. I'm not even mentioning that you've been practically living in her place for the past month. You've been neglecting your duties to our country a little too much recently, Soldier Boy.”

Ben's mouth clinched at Stan Edgar's remarks since he detested being searched out, watched, or having his behavior analyzed, and that's exactly what he was doing to him at that moment.

“Are your incompetent staff members spying on me in order to increase their pay? Do they also give a head to you under your stupid desk?”

“You're going too far. All I'm asking is that you fulfill your duties.” Stan Edgar got up and grinned while sipping his coffee. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“For your own sake, you had better not provoke me. You're pressuring me to give you a hard punch right now, and you know I'm not that patient.”

Stan Edgar went on, "It's about the mission I gave you and Y/N last month,” disregarding Ben's threats. “You were told to kill everyone there, but you didn't.”

When Stan Edgar mentioned that stupid mission, Ben's body tensed up, but he waited for him to continue while maintaining the same attitude.

“Y/N persuaded you not to kill them there, according to one of my soldiers. It wasn't right of you to leave them alive.”

Ben excused himself by saying, “There were kids among them.” He couldn't decide if you had persuaded him to make the choice or not. “I'm not a bad person.”

“You're not, of course. However, a mission is a mission. It's never easy to be a soldier, no one ever said. Nobody knows this better than you. However, this was not the first time. She has been supporting you in making decisions similar to those in certain situations. Am I wrong?”

Ben ignored him and kept smoking weed in the room. “We are a fucking team.”

“But you're the leader,” Stan Edgar said. “People began arguing that you're listening to a woman's orders, which you may not be aware of. It's been said that a lady controls the most powerful Supe on the planet. Do you even know whats going on around you?” 

“I'm not fucking listening to anyone, you fuckface.” Ben angrily rose up and gestured to Stan Edgar's face. “If I fucking held your head and squeezed my hand a bit, your useless brain would be all over the place, so don't push my fucking nerves.”

“I'm not indicating, of course, that I agree with them. But you have to stop allowing people to say stuff like that. Our nation's soldiers look up to you; they idolize you, and their kids dream to be just like you. However, how can men or soldiers in our nation ever respect Soldier Boy if they believe he is listening to a woman during a crucial mission?”

Ben remained silent and stood by the window, surveying the yard. 

“Never allow a woman to control or manipulate you. Even if you're not really acutely aware of it at the moment, that is what she is doing to you. I spoke with Crimson Countess a few days ago, and I've already decided that she will soon join your team. Undoubtedly, your squad will be asked if they want her on the team or not. She will be obedient and docile, and this is an excellent opportunity to reveal your real self to the world once more. You need to put things right again. It's vital for safeguarding your image.” 

Ben just said, “Fuck you and everyone,” since he didn't want to say anything more, but his mind was racing with thoughts that were about you.

“Be the hero everyone needs.”

Present

Ben was thinking about how you were struggling with your powers and what had happened in Herogasm when he woke up quite early in the morning. Nothing was going as he had anticipated, and things were just getting worse than he had planned. He began to feel a little insecure, though he didn't show you. He was used to getting what he wanted, after all. 

In spite of everything, he felt comforted to see you resting sweetly in his bed because you chose to, rather than because you had to, as you had been forced to do weeks earlier. Ben couldn't contain his excitement at the idea. 

He couldn't help but smile a little when you whined in your sleep, but he did his best not abuse the fragile trust you had  by firmly resting his side on the bed and not touching you, watching your back. 

Your ass had other ideas while you slept soundly, though. Unavoidably, Ben's cock disagreed, as his hardness was evident from your ass' forceful contact with his cock like you were trying to get him to take action. 

Your ass was practically rubbing against him as though he tried to think something else. Ben tried to ignore his aching erection, kept his eyes closed, and didn't touch you, even though he wasn't sure if your sleeping body was trying to relax or reach an orgasm at this time. 

But he opened his eyes as he smelled the blood all over the room. 

When you heard Ben calling your name, you mumbled something in an angry tone.

Ben said, “I guess you're bleeding down there,” and you opened your eyes right away. 

You muttered, “Oh, fuck,” as you swiftly moved on the bed and checked between your legs. You felt ashamed and disgusted when you saw your bloody underwear and the bed. “I'm sorry.”

Ben continued to stare between your legs and the blood all over the sheets before saying, “Hey, it's alright. Our life is now a bit more colorful.” 

As you struggled to get out of bed without making more mess, you couldn't help but smile at what he said. But when the truth set in, you realized that you hadn't had your period for quite a very long time. 

“Ben, can you check there to see if there are any peds around?” you said after you failed to find any in the restroom. 

“Sure. But what does it actually look like? Of course, I'm familiar with women's underwear, but not with pussy protection.”

“Haven't you seen one before? You'll know when you find one,” you said, pressing your smile.

“I wonder if they upgraded peds too,” Ben muttered, and hurriedly went through every part of the wardrobe before finding the winged pussy thing and handing it to you.

Ben couldn't help but smile as he observed the blood on the bed. It was just like the first time he took you in as a coach, only with a lot less blood, of course. Time flies. He quickly gathered all of the bloodied sheets, exited the room, and placed them in Frenchie's room's washing machine.

You began to feel a little better after seeing Ben already changing the sheets.

He asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly to him. “I guess I should have slept in my own bed.”

Ben instantly replied, “Of course not,” as he started to get dressed. “That you slept here pleases me, actually. In any case, your bed is excessively small and completely useless. You're welcome at any time, baby.”

“I guess it is,” you said with a small chuckle as you examined his massive muscles flexing as he put on a shirt.

He turned to face you and asked, “Do you still want to do some training?” He repressed his smile when he saw you checking his body.

“Yeah, of course.”

Ben walked slowly toward you and said, “We can delay to tomorrow; you don't have to push yourself.” He spoke in a sympathetic manner. He did not want you to push yourself too hard during intense training when your body was more vulnerable than usual.

This time, you couldn't stop laughing. “I'll be bleeding tomorrow too, Ben.”

He couldn't resist a grin as he saw your amusement. “Well, sweetheart, I'm not the best pussy health expert, it seems.”

“It seems so,” you said, smiling shyly at him.

Butcher questioned, “Something happened last night?” out of the blue as you were enjoying your breakfast peacefully.

“Like what?” Your face reddened, quite unsure of his question.

“Damn, don't get too excited. As reported by Frenchie, you vanished for a bit, and your t-shirt was torn. To develop a strong connection built on trust, it would be preferable if we didn't hold any secrets. Don't you think?”

After exchanging glances with Ben, you at last spoke: “I fought Noir. He watched us from a distance, and I tracked him. As you may know, he was a former teammate of mine; in fact, we were very good friends. Despite my attempts to communicate with him, he persisted in his attacks, so I just defended myself until he gave up. That's it.”

Ben's body stiffened when you told Butcher how near you were to Noir. Talking about him always made Ben furious, and he couldn't help but feel envy welling up within him once more. But at least you two were no longer on speaking terms, so he restrained himself from saying something sour, which would make you feel uncomfortable.

“Fuck me,” Butcher whispered in shock. “Only God knows what he is up to now. It would have been best to slaughter him there. You are the strongest Supe woman, right? Am I mistaken?” You gave Butcher a stare as he inquired, taking a hostile posture.

“Why in the world would she murder that dumb puppet? For your own benefit or in order to get greater public attention? Go fuck your face and fuck, no.” Ben got frustrated in less than a second and added, “Don't get her involved in your stupid stuff.”

“Calm down; I'm not interested in anything more than learning about her abilities. I find myself wondering all the time if she is stronger than Queen Maeve.”

Butcher was undoubtedly skilled at inciting outrage quickly.

You arched an eyebrow and confidently leaned back in your chair, asking, “Are you still on Temp-V?” You always welcomed challenges with open arms.

Butcher smiled at you and said, “I think I have one or two more hours left, babygirl. Do you feel like fighting or something?”

Ben cut him off, saying, “Will you stop fucking calling her names?” Butcher gave him no reaction. When he did his best to enrage Ben, you couldn't tell if he was being too bold or too foolish.

You crossed your arms over your chest and said, “I'm waiting; do your best shot.”

Ben gave you a serious glance and said, “Hey,” but you just nodded to let him know that you were perfectly fine.

“As you wish.”

As you waited patiently, Butcher lasered your left cheek without warning. You gasped, having never seen such power among the supes before.

You said, “Ow.” Finally, it didn't hurt, showing your power, but you gasped in surprise because you hadn't expected such a thing from him. It felt as gentle as a tickle.

“You okay?” Ben asked, gently brushing your chin with his thumb before you could even react.

“Definitely,” you answered. You undoubtedly felt more at ease knowing that Butcher's abilities had no effect on you.

Butcher said, “Guess you're still worthy,” and got to his feet. “Anyhow. I'll be out of the house for a few hours. Will you two please behave and not ruin the house again?”

You noticed Butcher's red and exhausted eyes and somewhat sluggish heartbeat as he put on his jacket, and you asked, “Are you okay, by the way?”

“Yeah, why?” he asked jokingly, taken aback by the question you asked.

“You appear somewhat ill. Additionally, your heartbeats are abnormal. I think you should see a doctor soon,” you said, but all he did was smirk, put on his jacket, and light a cigarette.

He continued, “For your information, darling,” after glancing at Ben's bitter expression. “I'm not into supe women; they are too tough to handle, okay, so we can't work out. Stop worrying about me,” he said, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes at him and didn't make any further comments.

Make sure you use your GPS, Bluetooth, and Internet to find Mindstorm while you're away." Ben stated in a commanding voice, "I've got things to talk to him," obviously giving Butcher instructions as he wore a haughty expression. He was not open to any arguments.

Butcher grumbled, “He's not easy to find,” but Ben didn't seem to give a damn. “Hughie and Starlight are already putting in maximum effort. We have other things to take care of, and we know they're just as vital as cleaning up the mess you made.”

“We made a deal. A deal you wanted it,” Ben remarked angrily. The way Butcher was acting irritated him.

“Yeah, let me remind you, mate; you couldn't kill Homelander yesterday, right?”

“You fought Homelander?” you asked Ben as your eyes widened in shock.

Ben said that. “Well, yeah.” He was a little uncomfortable not telling you sooner. But yesterday, when you were having a small talk, he showed no interest in Homelander at all. “Your baby boy couldn't find the Twins and brought them to me, okay? He fucking ruined the mission. That's not to say I couldn't murder Homelander. Therefore, quit fucking blaming me for your own failures.”

"What is done is done," Butcher simply said. “I don't think he'll show up anytime soon, but we have to find him and kill him as quickly as possible. By now, the little bitch must be scared to death. He has no idea what's going to happen next. I'll locate Mindstorm in the meantime, alright?”

Ben finally gave him a nod and you watched him Butcher to leave.

“Why didn't you tell me you fought Homelander?”

Ben responded, “I don't know,” as his fingertips slid across your chair. “It didn't seem more important than blowing up Herogasm and you fighting Noir.”

You muttered, “It is, of course, important. He must be indeed powerful judging by you and Butcher combined couldn't finish him, huh?”

Ben chuckled a little, but it was obvious he wasn't laughing because his confidence had been shaky over the last few weeks. He was ready to deny it and give you a proper explanation when he gave you a sly look. Instead, he said, “Baby, it's even difficult to cum twice in a raw. After blowing up the whole place, I ran out of energy in a matter of minutes.”

You laughed at his defense. “Well, I think it seems those trainings will be beneficial to you too, then.”

Ben said, “If you are ready, I am always ready,” and then he got to his feet and stretched his muscles.

As soon as he took off his t-shirt, you couldn't help but stare at his muscular, broad physique. You knew he was doing it intentionally, but instructing him to put on his t-shirt would just make him egotistical and cocky. You were aware of it, and he knew you knew.

“Are you absolutely sure your bleeding will not be an issue?” Ben questioned you, gazing at you and focusing on the space between your legs and shorts.

You answered, “No, Ben,” as you slightly adjusted your shorts and extended your muscles.

Ben noticed that you were shifting your hips to the sides, and he licked his lip. He then arched an eyebrow and said, “Well, baby. Can we prevent demolishing the walls once more?”

“I wasn't planning to send you against the wall,” you said in a innocent manner.

You raised your hand abruptly and moved to punch him, but he blocked your strike and remarked, “You almost got me there, baby.”

He caught your fist in his large palms as you attempted to hit him again, and you lifted your other hand to strike him. But he held both of your fists tightly in his palms, forcing you to exert a little more effort.

You lifted your knee to go between Ben's legs as he opened his mouth to speak, but he immediately stopped you again by the legs.

He winked at you and said, “Not there, sweetheart,” as he rearranged your posture and moved you so that your back was to his chest while he continued speaking into your ear. Even though he wasn't pushing himself, you could feel him getting harder on your back as he continued to place his hands with yours on your stomach.

As of right now, it appears to be somewhat difficult to beat him in battle. But, as usual, you had different plans.

You took a few long breaths, laid back into his chest, and relaxed a little. It was clear from his gasp that he hadn't anticipated that movement of yours. Breathing deeply, you sensed Ben's touches around your fists becoming softer.

Once you had waited enough, you eventually managed to break free from his tight hold by turning around and hitting him to the floor very harshly, which managed to crack it enough.

Ben said, “Oh, fuck,” as he observed you circling him while grinning proudly.

“It was quite simple,” you grinned. “Maybe you're the one who needs some training, Benjamin.”

He dragged you down before you could even finish making fun of him, causing your face to come into contact with his sweating chest. Your hands paused on his chest as he grabbed you firmly around the waist.

“We need to practice your defense techniques for sure, sweetheart. You're becoming more proficient at attacking, though; I am sure of that.” Ben smiled slightly and murmured, “We're even now.”

“Not yet.”

You waited on top of him, feeling his hardness between your legs, and for some reason, you moved slightly. Perhaps you couldn't stop yourself from rubbing against his hardness below you because you didn't touch yourself enough or because of the hormones brought on by your period. It felt as though your body was screaming for you to give yourself in already.

You felt a slight pressure on your pussy through your panties, and your lips parted. There were obstacles between you, yet you could still feel his hardness.

But you weren't sure because you were still bleeding, so you glanced back at Ben to see whether he was showing signs of disgust or anything else. Due to your supe genetic background, you rarely got your period in the past, and it never caused you any problems since you never got your period while you were with Ben. However, Ben had only yearning in his eyes when you looked at him.

Ben held you in place as if you would reconsider, his hands tightening on your waist. Even though it was difficult, he waited patiently because he didn't want you to make you move on and destroy the fragile trust you had in him.

Your hands moved to his packs on his muscular chest and remained there. Ben's fingers also moved to linger on your bare legs, slid from your legs into your shorts, and softly touched your underwear, causing you to gasp.

When you began to rub against his erection and his fingers tightened around your flesh beneath your shorts, you couldn't help gasping a little.

The pressure of his enormous cock was enough to give you shivers, even though it was difficult to feel him completely because of your underwear, peds, shorts, and also his sweatpants. There was too much between you. You continued to grind against his cock in order to get pleasure, nailing his belly each time, your movements becoming more rapid and powerful.

As you were grinding against Ben's cock to trigger an orgasm and nailing his abdomen, he was struggling to contain himself and not cum inside his sweatpants under you. The fact that you were on your period and bleeding while moving your body over him made the situation even hotter. His body was screaming at him to switch positions, take his aching cock from his boxers, and slide it inside your bloody pussy immediately, but he maintained his composure and allowed you to enjoy yourself on him as you pleased.

Ben groaned, “Come on, baby,” noticing that you were struggling. “You are almost there.”

You said in a whispering voice, “Ben,” not quite sure why you were beging him.

Ben's hand grasped your hips and urged you to keep moving on him as soon as he noticed your pleading eyes and realized you were slowing down because there was not enough friction.

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he pressed your body on his hard cock and made you move on top of him, taking control, and your hands trailed wildly over every inch of his chest.

Ben groaned loudly, feeling your back arching finally. “Let it go, baby,” he said. “Yes, fuck! Cum to me.”

Your walls began to clench around nothingness as you let out a low gasp as your orgasm hit hard. Your head leaned back, and you nailed his abdomen as your body shivered on top of him. You were unable to control your moans while your walls kept clenching as you rode your orgasm.

Ben couldn't help but smile as he watched you pant harshly on him and listen to your soft moans. He knew it was something more intimate than anything you had ever experienced together because he felt so close to you in that moment, with your hearts beating wildly behind your chests.

His hands lingered around your back, softening on your waist.

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

When you rode your orgasm completely, you came to your senses, and your eyes met Ben's green ones. He was breathing heavily under you, though he didn't cum. In addition to strong desire, there was something deeper there that was difficult to describe in the way he looked at you. You didn't know how much time you spent staring at each other.

Next Chapter

A/N: We are almost there now. Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much.  I’m very curious about what you think about this chapter in general, hehe

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* I made a Playlist for 'Losing You'. There are the songs I got inspiration from while writing this series. You can click here to see it. <3

[casuallyanidiot]

Omg your yandere coworker *chef's kiss*

I imagine he's just frustrated and angry because he can't believe he's fallen for a loser like reader. Like they are such a mess all the time. So soft and easy to tire. They look so out of place in this workplace environment.

But over time it starts to click that all he was to do is take them away and keep them at home. Reader shouldn't even be at work! Reader should be sitting pretty at home like the good little spouse he knows they are all that they are good for!

Man he'll have to come up with a plan to make that happen wouldn't he?

Thanks! He's awful! :)

I think the worst part about Yan coworker is that he believes he's actually a good person. Maybe if he just acknowledged how scummy he was, he wouldn't be half as bad.

He he's had enough of you stumbling all over yourself like an idiot. Yandere Coworker pulls you aside one day into a storage closet. He's trying so hard not to snap and fuck you stupid against some half empty shelves, so instead he settles for gripping your arms. Isn't he a gentleman? Anyways, he lays it out for you.

"You need to quit," He says simply. His voice is gruff and firm, and you blink in surprise. "What?" You stammer out. He's tall, intimidatingly so, and you tremble as he holds you. "No, no I'm not- I can't quit! This is my job! I know you don't really like me, but that's out of line," You hiss out and squirm away from him.

Yandere coworker realizes you really are very, very dumb. There's nothing in that stupid little head of yours, is there? You can't even tell how much he's looking out for you. You're crumbling under the weight of this job, and he can't stand seeing you so unhappy.

But he makes enough money for the two of you. He can handle this while you can't. In fact, the more he thinks about it, he can't figure out just what in the world you would be good at. He tries to picture you as successful at anything and comes up blank. Huh... You really are good for nothing. Except,,, you would probably do well if you didn't have to do anything at all.

Yandere coworker starts to think about how much prettier you would be if you got proper sleep. He likes the way you look in corporate attire (That is on the rare occasions where you don't look like a hot mess), but he bets you'd like to be in expensive and revealing loungewear even more. The only thing you would have to do is keep your house tidy, and keep yourself nice and presentable for whoever provided for you. Yeah, you'd be perfect for that. And guess what? He could give you that.

Yandere coworker knows that you're far too stubborn for your own good. He begins to actively sabotage your work. He inserts spelling errors into your reports, changes the numbers of any potential client before you have the chance to make a sale. He allows himself to be more officially promoted, and with the new power he has, he assigns you increasingly difficult tasks.

You try and report him for essentially bullying you, but the complaint is thrown out with little care. He's one of the best employees the company had ever seen, and you were just some bumbling broad who couldn't even spell their own name right on official documents.

Before long, you're fired. Yandere Coworker uses his position in the company and many connections he has to essentially black list you.

You can't get a decent job in your field anymore. Plus you begin to get behind on rent and bills. Your life is going to shit, yet you still refuse to take him up on his many offers. It's infuriating, and he just wants to put you in a place that he knows you'll be safe and happy in.

Yandere Coworker just thinks your too dumb to realize how kind he's being. He hopes that you're smart enough to recognize how nice the trunk of a luxury car is. After all, you're going to be there for a while until he can get you to his home where you'll never have to use that useless brain of yours again.

[impishjesters]

Jax x Reader w/depression/suicidal tendencies

warning(s): mentions of depression/suicidal behavior/tendencies, nothing graphic though, mentions of morbid/dark humor note: it's only mentioned that he has feelings for you, whether romantic or platonic is left up to the reader. A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever wanted to write for something utterly new to me, usually it takes a while of being into a series or liking a character to wanna write something. This was...less than twelve hours? This was probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in a while.

Nobody was safe from Jax’s pranks, including you—regardless of how much he found himself gradually enjoying your company.

It’s actually a right of passage at this point that every new person (as rare as it is) who shows up is subjected to some awful prank to gauge just how much of an easy or difficult target they’ll be.

You handle the pranks with ease. Sure it can be annoying, but there’s little that can seemingly “kill” you here.

Which is a shame really—well, only slightly.

Your therapist would’ve probably found it a good thing, trying to off yourself in a digital world where sleeping and eating were no longer required likely meant the inability to die.

Not in a traditional sense anyway.

You’re the only one ballsy enough to prank Jax back, which isn’t easy but when a prank is successful? Oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction.

There’s an unspoken prank war back and forth, but typically the other’s are the subject of your guys’ pranks. Somehow it feels more rewarding with the joint effort.

It's not often, but sometimes Jax's pranks will go a step too far and trigger something unpleasant. He's not really sure why you just walk off like that, those pranks don't make him feel as satisfied for whatever reason.

Once a special type of friendship grows between the two of you, the pranks lessen—not entirely though—nah he loves the unsuspecting reactions of a prank you didn’t see coming.

The pranks become less hostile and more casual—he’s got a reputation to keep after all, regardless of how he feels about you.

The initial reaction to someone being told there was no way out was to panic, you however, didn’t..well not outright. Your initial reaction is dark humor—even with the whole censorship thing.

Ragatha is the only one initially disturbed/worried over your dark sense of humor, which should be expected from one of them since they’ve been there longer.

Jax is aware of your morbid sense of humor and often plays along with it, especially in the beginning—later in the friendship though? Yeah, there’s no noticeable physical change, but he’s only a tad worried.

When not tormenting the other’s Jax stuck with you, or vice versa.

After the attempted drowning and standing (willingly) in harm’s way of one (or three) of the rides, Jax keeps your bedroom key closer in hand than the others.

And honestly? Ragatha doesn’t even blame him. You aren’t distant from them, but you do tend to favour Jax’s company. Regardless of her feelings about him as a person, it becomes obvious that he feels something less hostile towards you compared to them.

It takes a while before you finally confess to Jax that prior to being trapped in this digital hell, you were medicated for depression/suicidal tendencies. And while the digital world took away things like needing sleep and food, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts or urges.

Now—had this been someone else telling him all this? He’d be very uncaring and probably make a nasty “joke”, but because it’s you? He’s treading into foreign territory here when it comes to emotions.

There’s not really anything he can say that would make you feel better, but he does show a more rare tender side, offering to be there whenever you need him. Just to backpedal like a tsundere and say that he won’t always be free ( a lie, the fuck else does he have to do?), but he’ll try and make time for you during those moments.

He doesn’t do some pinky promise bullshit, I mean he can and would, but he doesn’t expect his offer and attempts to do that much (words of promise aren’t on the same level as a prescription drug after all).

But if being around his rude ass self and doing the occasional nice *gag* gestures of like, hugging or whatever helps you, he’ll do it—just, not with others around obviously. Again, man has a reputation.

From then on Jax is more aware of where you are around him at all times, not in a suffocating way though. Well, not intentionally, he has his moments. But he’s trying, again this is new territory for him.

Jax makes it his unspoken, personal goal to make sure you don’t tread the line of becoming abstracted.

Bonus (fluff)

Jax will make an attempt not to immediately recoil from your touch when others are present.

I’m not talking “Whoops, sorry to bump into you”, I’m talking about grabbing onto his arm or being in his personal bubble because you need something grounding or whatever.

More often than none his immediate reaction is to just use you to lean on, elbow or arm resting on top of your head to give you some contact and pressure. (He does it out of habit even when you don't need it.)

Sure he probably looks like an ass to others, but after a while, they sort of just get used to it since you never bring up being offended by the act.

But in private? Yeah, sure shoot, just don’t expect him to put any effort into returning anything. Maybe the drape of an arm or his legs, but if it’s really bad? He’ll lay or sit there while you cling to him like a koala.

Jax actually finds it kinda funny how tightly you hold on whenever he gets up.

“Wow, you really holdin’ on there.”

[sansaorgana]

Hey Lily, how are you? I've be following you for a while and I love your posts (hotd, dune, mota...). Your stories are amazing, with a lot of details and its look like the original character - its incredible.

I would love to see Feyd, Gale or Benny as a devoted husband with baby fever. Like, he can't see his wife next to other kids, baby clothes, toys or anything without think about get her pregnant.

He acts like a pregnan woman with desires and have a attack when don't have what he wants.

Just if you feel confortable, of course. Sorry for my english, it's my second language. Kisses and hugs from Brasil!

hello, sweetheart! 🥰 thank you for this request. it was so fun to write Buck and Benny with a baby fever 👶🏻👶🏾 I decided to write for the both of them (each one of them has their own little story and a bit different approach to the subject since they differ a lot from one another). I didn't include Feyd because it was more difficult for me to imagine + I don't feel very inspired to write for him lately (and I still have fics to write with him so I gotta rewatch Dune 2 soon hehe 😏)

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

GIFS: (x) // (x)

BUCK CLEVEN

Ever since he came back from Europe, Buck had only one thing on his mind – getting you pregnant. Well, starting a family with you to be exact but weren’t they the same thing?

You had been planning it even before his departure and now the war was over, he was back and with a strong need of distraction and a new purpose in life. It was not like you didn’t want that – quite the opposite, you had been daydreaming of him coming back home to you and giving you a little baby for the whole time he had been at war. But that man… Your man… He had the worst baby fever you had ever seen, you swore to God.

It was adorable, really. How he would come back home from work late to you pacing around the living room or kitchen – worried and overthinking – but oh, it was nothing serious… He just had to stop by that store with baby clothes. They had cute overalls on a mannequin by the window and he decided to buy them “for later”. Typical Buck.

You had a few boxes in your attic already with baby clothes and toys ready. Even a crib because it was on sale and good quality. Buck was fixated on the idea of having a baby with you. But he wasn’t pushy, no.

However, he had read all the books about fatherhood and pregnancy he could find in the local library. And he started to watch your diet a little – telling you to add more of this or that, which could increase the chances of pregnancy. He changed his own habits, too, although he had always been a clean and healthy man – no drinking, no smoking and all that.

You were invited to a barbecue at the neighbour's house. They were living across the street – Michael and his wife Pat. They had three kids running around and you could already see Buck’s dreamy gaze as he watched them play. 

And then their youngest – little Evie, around two years old – climbed onto your lap and hugged you. She was a sweet and cuddly baby and you chuckled at her sudden affection before wrapping your arms around her and pulling her closer to bop her nose and baby talk to her sweetly as she giggled.

“You’d be a good mum,” Pat pointed out with a smile. “Aren’t you two planning to have children of your own?” She asked. She was a bit of a nosy woman but Buck answered before you even managed to open your mouth.

“We’re working on it, Pat,” he nodded at her with that sweet smile of his.

“Oh, really?” She smiled widely. “Well, good luck!” Pat seemed to be excited. “This street needs more of the little ones to run around!” She added and sat next to you to tickle little Evie on your lap. “Come on, Evie, come back to mummy. Leave auntie (Y/N) now, you must be giving her an insufferable baby fever,” she pointed out and took her daughter from you.

“Me? I can handle that,” you giggled and pointed at your husband. “Buck, though…” You laughed and he rolled his eyes. You spotted a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. “He’s crazy about it,” you explained.

“Really?” Pat widened her eyes as she looked at you and then at Buck. She turned her head around to make sure Michael couldn’t hear her as she lowered her voice. “Well, you’re lucky, darling. Most men aren’t... They don’t care that much.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, furrowing your brows. “Michael seems to be a good father.”

“Yeah, he is, but, I mean…” Pat sighed. “He’s not very present in it, if you know what I mean. Most men like the idea of having babies but not the babies themselves, if you get me. It just looks so good when you can brag to other men that you have a bunch waiting for you at home. But changing diapers or playing with them is a different story.”

You moved uncomfortably on your seat. Buck couldn’t hear your gossip either, engaged in a conversation with the seven years old son of Michael and Pat – Victor. Looking at him, though, you couldn’t imagine that he would be a father like Pat had described. No, your Buck was different.

“Gale is not like that,” you told her. “I am sure of that.”

Pat only nodded at that, a hint of sadness on her face. You sighed and turned around to squint your eyes at Michael who was now scolding their eldest daughter Mary about something. You suddenly liked him much less.

After the barbecue, you packed some leftovers that Pat had insisted on you to take and you went back home to spend the evening with your husband. The moment you put the bowl with food inside your fridge and closed the door of it, you felt Buck’s hands wrapping around you from behind. He placed his chin on your shoulder and started to caress your abdomen as if there was a baby there already.

“You looked so angelic with little Evie on your lap,” he whispered into your ear with a loving smile. “I want to have a daughter with you,” he kissed your cheek.

“You were so sweet with Victor,” you chuckled at that. “I want to have a son with you.”

“We won’t ever agree on that,” Buck sighed, playfully. “I’m afraid we must have both.”

“Mhm, a pair of each,” you teased back and placed your hands on top of his.

“You think you can give me four?” Buck asked, more seriously this time, leaning in to have a better look at your face.

“I can give you as many as you wish, Gale,” you assured him with a nod. “As much as my doctor says that is safe for me, at least,” you fixed yourself. “Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone else being the father of my babies. I can’t wait to have a family with you,” you added with a sweet smile.

Buck nodded and kissed your cheek one more time before moving away slightly and leaning on the wall. You turned around and furrowed your brows.

“What’s wrong, darling?” You asked, You could feel that something was off.

“Is it weird?” He asked. “That I want it so bad? I don’t want to… I don’t want to make you feel pressured,” he sighed and looked down.

“It’s not weird, baby, it’s sweet,” you approached him to cup his cheeks and force him to look up again. Once he did, you cracked a smile at those beautiful baby blue eyes and leaned in to kiss along the tiny scars scattered all over his face. “About the pressure…” You chuckled while shaking your head. “Well, we have five boxes up in the attic, all filled with toys and clothes. And even a crib. Jesus, Buck…” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Who wouldn’t feel the pressure? I feel like you’re pressuring yourself a bit too much as well, huh?”

A short silence occurred and you could see in your husband’s pretty eyes that he was contemplating something before looking down with a sigh.

“Sorry… I just… I want the baby with you… So bad. One would be enough, just one and I’d be the happiest,” he confessed and you couldn’t help yet another chuckle because his words were almost whiny. He was acting like wives usually would and you simply found it cute and adorable.

“I’m gonna give you a baby, don’t you worry, honey,” you played along and rubbed your nose with his, giving him a sweet promise that husbands would usually give their wives.

Buck looked up, his eyes filled with love and the sparkles of excitement.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, darling,” you kissed his forehead. “You’re the best husband I could have asked for and soon you’re gonna be the best daddy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck chuckled and pulled you closer by your waist to kiss your forehead as well and rub your back. “By the way, I heard what you and Pat were talking about. I’m gonna change diapers, don’t you worry.”

“Oh,” you laughed at that. “What a relief.”

Indeed, it was. But it was no surprise either. Buck was just the sweetest and the most devoted husband you had ever met.

And he was all yours.

BENNY CROSS

You were at one of those big stores with clothes for everyone and for literally every occasion, looking for something cheap but presentable for your husband. You swore, Benny had only five pieces of clothing and you just were sick of washing them over and over because they were getting so dirty from the grease and mud all the time.

Or blood from the fights. But that was another story.

“And this?” You asked for the tenth time as you showed him a nice polo with stripes. It looked pretty proper and you already knew what he would say.

“Nah,” he shook his head without even looking properly. “I ain’t a square.”

“Benny,” you sighed at him, putting the shirt back. “You need some nice clothes, too,” you scolded him.

“Well, I might need ‘em but I ain’t gonna wear ‘em,” he shrugged his arms and walked away, uninterested.

He didn’t even want to be there. In his eyes, his wardrobe was perfectly fine and he didn’t need anything new. You sighed. You wouldn’t win with him.

“Can we at least get you a new pair of boxer shorts? I hate the grey ones,” you whispered to him. “You know, the ones with fucking holes. I want to throw them away,” you gave him a scolding look.

“Alright,” Benny rolled his eyes and he followed you to the section with underwear.

He picked some black ones and turned around to give them to you but you weren’t there anymore. Cursing under his breath, he looked around to find you and then he froze at the sight of you standing in the middle of the section with baby clothes. He squeezed the new pair of boxer shorts in his hand and walked up to you.

“Hey, you got lost, baby?” He asked you with a smile.

You looked pretty mesmerised by a tiny pink dress in front of you. You reached your hand out to feel the soft fabric and you smiled.

“Oh, it’s so cute, Benny… It’s so adorable,” you told him and he swallowed thickly.

At first, he was a little uncomfortable with that comment. He knew what it meant when women were getting like that and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for his wife being like that, too, but then he looked at the dress himself and he froze. He blinked a few times, very slowly, as his heart picked up its pace.

That was a very cute dress indeed.

“Come on, what do we need it for? It ain’t like you gonna fit in it,” he tried to make a joke about it.

“I can buy it for Tammy,” you looked up at his face.

“Who’s Tammy?” Benny asked, scrunching his nose.

“The girl I work with for years and been telling you about since we started dating. She’s had a baby girl recently,” you rolled your eyes.

“Never heard of ‘er,” Benny shrugged his arms.

It was no secret he was sometimes simply not listening when you were telling him stories about your work or friends. Not even because he found them boring but he was just getting so lost in the way you looked that he was just ending up staring at you lovingly instead and dissociating completely.

Also, why would he care about some girl who wasn’t you?

“I’m gonna get it for her,” you decided and took the dress with you. “Got those boxers, Benny?” You asked him and he showed you the ones he was holding in his hand. “Okay,” you nodded and cleared your throat. “Let’s go pay for those.”

A week had passed and Benny noticed something while opening the wardrobe each time in the morning – the little pink dress was still there. Folded neatly on top of your clothes and waiting for you to finally take it to that girl you had mentioned. What was her name? Ronnie?

“Kitty…?” Benny scratched the back of his head. You were still in bed since you had a day off and he was getting ready to meet with Johnny.

“Yeah, baby?” You mumbled with your eyes still closed, cuddling Benny’s pillow and breathing in his scent.

“What’s that baby dress still doing ‘ere?” He asked and looked at your sleeping form.

“I ain’t giving it to Tammy, I decided,” you informed him. “It’s too cute to give it away. And it wasn’t cheap either. It’s better to save it for one day when we have a daughter of our own,” you added casually and turned around. Your eyes were closed but you still felt too embarrassed to be facing him at that moment.

You had never discussed the matter of having babies before.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Benny closed the doors of the wardrobe after getting a top he wanted from it. “I didn’t want you to give it away anyway,” he shrugged his arms and you opened your eyes at his words before slowly turning around as you rested on your elbow.

“Wait, really?” You asked.

“It’s too pretty for Ronnie’s daughter to have it,” Benny shrugged his arms. “Should be our little princess havin’ it.”

“It’s Tammy,” you rolled your eyes with a sigh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Benny nodded and leaned in to give you a short peck on the lips. “I’m gonna go now, yeah? I’ll be back later.”

“Yeah, be careful,” you nodded at him and watched him leave the bedroom.

When he left, you giggled to yourself and hid your face in the pillow.

In fact, you kept smiling all day long at Benny's words about your little princess. You even found yourself caressing your tummy a few times although you weren’t pregnant yet. In fact, you didn’t even know what he had truly meant by that. Would he want to have a baby with you… soon? Or just… one day?

You had no idea how to start this conversation when he’d be back home but you didn’t have to because he came back with a small package and handed it to you without a word.

“What is it?” You raised an eyebrow at him but he remained silent, with his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket.

You opened the package and widened your eyes at the brown baby corduroy overalls that were about the same size as the pink dress hidden in your wardrobe upstairs. You looked at your husband questioningly.

“Been thinkin’, what if the baby turns out to be a boy after all? We have to be prepared for both possibilities,” he explained, casually.

“Benny…!” You squealed and jumped onto him, throwing your hands behind his neck. “Oh, Benny, you’re bein’ serious, really? You want a little baby with me?” You looked into his eyes and bit on your lower lip.

“Yeah,” Benny nodded, cracking a smile. “Why not?”

You froze at that question as you took a step back and folded the baby overalls carefully before placing them on the kitchen counter.

“What?” He asked, studying your face carefully with his curious, baby blue eyes.

“Why not is just… Not enough, you know?” You looked up to see his face. “I only want to have a baby with you if you really, really, want it, too.”

Short silence occurred and you noticed Benny’s hands moving nervously inside the pockets of his jacket.

“I do, kitty,” he assured you but he lowered his voice. Talking about his emotions was not a strong asset of his. In fact, it was no asset of his. “When I saw ya at the store staring at that baby dress… Dunno, something clicked in me, you know? I can’t stop thinkin’ of a little you crawlin’ around the house since then,” he confessed as his cheeks flushed crimson red.

“Oh, baby,” you gasped and approached him again to cup his face in your hands. “Alright, that’s enough, I believe ya,” you assured him. You didn’t want to push him to share more of these thoughts because you knew it wasn’t easy for him. “But you know that when we have a baby… Some things will have to change, right?” You asked, anxiously. You weren’t sure what his reaction would be.

Benny, however, grabbed your wrists gently and leaned in to place a kiss upon one of them and then turned his head to do the same to the other.

“I know, baby. It’s about time,” he whispered, looking deep into your eyes.

He had been mentioning for some time now that he wasn’t enjoying the direction the club was going into. He just wanted to drive with those guys and feel free, have fun. He didn’t like the new, heavy stuff. Having a baby would be a good excuse to finally leave them. He had even been discussing this with Johnny earlier that day.

And he didn’t need the club to have the sense of belonging anymore because he had you. And the little family you would start soon.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[daydreamerwonderkid]

I see your vampire!Bruce Wayne AU and I raise you this:

Normal human Bruce Wayne raising his horde of vampire/dhamphir children, but because Bruce is Bruce no suspects any of the Batkids are, well ... bat kids.

Even the Batkids are confused at first when they first meet Bruce. Batman shows up and they're like:

"Oh, shit it's Batman! The very scary, very territorial Vampire Lord who's completely taken over Gotham and has managed to strike fear into the heart of all the most notorious vampire leaders! And he wants to adopt me into his coven? Sounds sketchy, but aight."

Only for them to wake up the next day and realize that not only is Batman in fact NOT a vampire, but he's also the most pitiful and pathetic human they've ever laid their eyes on and there's no fucking way they can leave him now.

Humans are already super fragile and easy to kill as is. And their new guardian is risking his life every night masquerading as an all powerful Vampire Lord!!!!

It's honestly a miracle that Bruce hasn't been killed yet and there's no way they're going to let their clueless human guardian wander off by himself. Especially after they realize he keeps forgetting that humans aren't supposed to be awake for 72 hours straight and his skin is paler than the giant hoards of case file documents he tries to sift through while barely touching his own food.

This poor idiot human is so committed to pretending to be a vampire that he's actually convinced himself he has night vision and spends more time hanging out in a literal Batcave than he does in his own fucking house!

Meanwhile, Bruce is thoroughly convinced he's got a complete handle on the whole raising vampire/dhampir children thing. After all, it's not like he's had to change much about his own personal life to that of a parent taking care of a horde of supernatural children.

He already spends more time awake at night anyway and while the kids don't mind human food absolutely love Alfred's cooking, it's not difficult to get a hold of any blood when they actually need to feed on something more substantial. Considering he's the biggest contributor to Gotham's blood donation centers, it's not like anyone's gonna tell him no.

Bruce also read somewhere that while vampires in the modern age don't actually need to hunt humans to feed anymore (considering the above mentioned donation centers), their hunting instincts haven't gone away, either. So while he was initially against the idea of letting his kids getting involved in his vigilante lifestyle, it was probably a good thing in the end that they had an alternative outlet for their growing vampiric urges. Like Alfred, he would have preferred it if they had gotten into competitive sports or something similar instead, but all his children had proven themselves to be just as stubborn as he is so he made do with what he could.

Especially considering the fact that a parenting article he read mentioned how extremely sensitive young vampires/dhampirs are towards the well-being of those who make up their coven. Dick, ALONE, had proved how absolutely futile his attempts to separate his night time and day time activities truly were. Apparently, it was detrimental to young vampires to be separated from their parents/guardians for too long. Better he trained them and supervised them himself versus having to re-experience Dick, Tim and Cass stalking him like the supernatural predators they were while doing his nightly patrols.

And if any of his children leaned a bit more into their feral nature whenever Bruce happened to get hurt on patrol, that was just kids' instincts reacting to the head of their coven being threatened. It's taken years of training, grounding and long late night discussions to convince his children to try holding back their supernatural strength and bloody acts of retribution. He still finds himself lecturing them from time to time even if he's fully aware they're all humoring him.

He still has the small collection of baby fangs that Dick had somehow roped all his younger siblings into contributing to over the years. For the life of him, he can't begin to fathom why anyone would want to collect teeth or why his children are so adamant that he holds onto theirs. But ever since he jokingly mentioned the Tooth Fairy to a horrified and offended younger Dick when his first set of baby fangs finally started coming in, it seems his children are determined to make sure no one can even attempt to think about exchanging their fangs for mere quarters.

And for the record (and despite what his children and friends keep on insisting), he never set out to actually pretend to be a "Vampire Lord." He just honestly thought designing his costume around one of his deepest fears would be a good way for him to use that fear against the criminals of Gotham.

He also won't admit that he completely forgot about the obvious association people make between bats and vampires.

[rubykgrant]

Idea for a Magnus Archives AU (that I don't have time to write all the way out, but it still intrigues me~)

At some point after Martin's father left, but when he was still very young, somebody offered to bring Mrs Blackwood some furniture. Used, but still in good condition. She refused, insulted by the idea that she needed "pity" or "charity", despite the fact that her health is already making things difficult... one day, while her son is at school, she hears a knock at the door. It takes her a while to get there. When she finally opens it, whoever knocked is gone, but they have left behind a table.

She assumes it was the same person as before, and is now irritated that they have "dumped" their old junk on her doorstep. A neighbor sees and offers to at least bring it inside. She decides it may as well be put to use, so she lets the neighbor move it in. Alone in the house, she looks the table over. It certainly isn't new, but isn't too beat-up or broken. It has a VERY unique pattern... almost like an optical illusion...

When Martin gets home from school, he's surprised to see that his mother is in the kitchen, getting ready to cook dinner; she hasn't done that in a year! He offers to help, or just make himself a sandwich and canned soup if she wants to rest, but she assures him that she's feeling MUCH better. This continues for several months, the doctors are amazed by what seems to be a miracle recovery! All the neighbors and old friends agree, she's also had a change in attitude lately, but it all seems for the better. Her son is especially happy... his mother seems so much more "gentle" than she used to be, and she doesn't even make him drink oolong tea with her anymore. She's decided that Earl Grey is better.

Nobody notices that her hair is a different length, a different color. Nobody notices the shape of her eyes and jawline has changed. Nobody notices that she's taller. Not any friends, neighbors, doctors, or family. Even all the photographs in the house have changed. A different woman is holding a tiny, newborn baby. A different woman is sitting next to a small Christmas tree, helping a child open a present. Nobody notices... except for one person.

When Mr Blackwood heard from an old friend that the wife he left had recovered, he suddenly had second thoughts. He really had thought she would die, and he must have had some sort of break-down. He couldn't handle it, so he ran away... but he's thinking clearly again. It has nothing to do with the fact that he also heard his wife recently got a new job, a very well-paying one with the kind of health plan that a spouse could share. It has nothing to do with the fact that he isn't feeling well himself lately, and he's noticed that he has nobody to take care of HIM. It has nothing to do with the fact that he hasn't been able to find work, and he also can't find a place to live. He just wants to go back because he misses his wife and son. That's all.

When Mr Blackwood returned, he brought flowers. To apologize. He knocked on the door, and heard a muffled voice call- "Come in!". He picked a time of day when he knew Martin would be at school, so he and his wife could reunite with some privacy. He expected his wife to be upset. He expected his wife to be angry, maybe cry, or try to throw something at him. He expected it would take time for his wife to let him explain, then forgive him. He expected HIS WIFE. The woman in this home was not his wife... she said she was, she smiled, used his name like she knew him, but she WASN'T. Her voice, face, EVERYTHING was different! This was wrong, why was this strange woman here?

He ran away, even though she called for him to stay. He tried to speak with their friends, her family... everybody acted like he was crazy. They acted like the woman claiming to be his wife was right. After months and months of trying to talk some sense into people, he finally remembers Martin; surely a child would know their own mother? Mr Blackwood has been watching the house, and he sees little Martin kiss the woman good-bye, then leave for school. As if everything was normal. He can't stand it anymore! He bursts through the door, shouting at the woman to tell the truth, but the noise alerts the neighbors, who call for help, and he leaves...

He stays away for more than a year, but he never went far. He kept watching. He tried to figure out WHY somebody would pretend to be his wife, and HOW she could fool everybody. It never makes any sense. He comes back again, in the middle of winter. Martin is sleeping over at a friend's house. Mr Blackwood has been sleeping in an old treehouse, long abandoned by the kids who built it. He can't stand the idea of that strange woman sleeping in the bed that SHOULD be his (that would have been his, if he hadn't left). He uses his key to open the back door. She hasn't changed the locks. He goes in, ready to be rough if necessary; he will get the truth if it kills him.

Around 2 in the morning, Mrs Blackwood calls for help. Her husband, the one who left her, the one who came back and threatened her, just tried to attack her! She fought back, and he ran off again. No trace of him is ever found. When Martin comes home, they have a discussion, and decide it isn't safe to life here anymore. So they move, not too far, Martin can still visit people he knew growing up. The new house is much nicer, in a safe neighborhood.

They take just about everything with them, except for a few large pieces of furniture they sell. Mrs Blackwood wants to keep the table with the unique pattern, though. She's grown rather fond of it. The movers she hired are... odd, but they get everything to the new home very quickly. When his mother speaks with the two of them beside their truck, Martin watches from a window, and he has the strangest feeling that... his mother might just step up into it, and ride away with them. Then she'll be gone, and he'll be alone. He can't explain why, but he almost expects it to happen.

She doesn't leave. She comes back inside, smiling, and hugs her child. Why wouldn't she? As the years go by, Martin wonders about his father; why the man left, why he came back, why he seemed so confused about who his own wife was. Martin also wonders what his father looked like, as none of the pictures they saved show his face. Mrs Blackwood tells her son- "I suppose there's a resemblance, but when I look at you, I just see YOU, not him. I love you too much to see your father in your features".

Martin grows up happy and safe with his mother. He's able to finish school, and eventually starts working at a bakery. Later, when he moves out to get his own place, he finds a job at a restaurant-confectionery in London. His mother didn't want him living so far away, but he really wants to sort of "get out in the world", have some experience on his own. Someday, he'd like to have his own tea shop and cafe. He works from the middle of the day to late shifts at the cafe, and he gets to know some of the regulars very well. One woman, Sasha, comes in often to get food and drinks for her coworkers. Martin likes chatting with her, and eventually meets Tim when they come to have lunch together. He considers them to be friends.

One day, they call and tell Martin they want to order the most extravagant cake possible for their boss; it is his birthday, and they are going to be obnoxious about it, but also trick him so he doesn't know they've planned something. Martin offers to bring it over himself, so they can pretend to not be up to anything. This is how he enters the Magnus Institute. This is how he meets Jonathan Sims. This is how he starts learning about the strange things they research here. This is how he sees a picture of a table with a very curious pattern. This is how he asks if he can listen to the statement about that table...

[summer-nights19]

HELLO!! i saw your tokyo debunker fic requests posts, may i request some fluff with jin, rui, or jiro ?? Bonus if it involves a date, flowers, or a kiss that is NOT on the lips ♡

Thank you for the request, Anon. It's so cute <3

Since he's my favourite of the three, I went ahead and did Jin

Roses and stars

After a very long first day with Vagastrom, you'd finally made it back to your dorm. Honestly, the entire thing had been exhausting - the Vagastrom ghouls were difficult to work with and also didn't seem to like you very much - so you couldn't wait to curl up in your bed and sleep. As you moved to open the door to your dilapidated dormitory, you felt your foot kick something on the floor. Startled, you looked down at the object, your curiosity rising.

Someone had left a large bunch of white roses by your doorstep, along with a little note. Feeling your heart flutter in your chest and your face heat up, you picked up the roses and went upstairs to put them in an old vase by your bed before you finally looked at the note, which was written in a neat, slanted cursive.

Dear MC

I'm taking you out tomorrow afternoon after you come back from Vagastrom. I'll pick you up from your dorm.

Jin

Your heart leaped when you saw the name on the page. Sure, you'd had a crush on the Frostheim captain ever since you'd first worked with him, but you'd never in a million years dreamt that he might feel the same way.

"Stop it, MC. It's probably not that kind of outing. He definitely just wants to discuss Darkwick business, " you told yourself firmly, but, despite this, you couldn't help but hope that your initial instinct was right. Eventually, you let your exhaustion take over and fell asleep while still clutching the note, your dreams haunted by a certain tall, blue eyed man.

***

After finishing up at Vagastrom the next day, you'd headed straight to your dorm. The closer you got, the more violent the butterflies in your stomach became and the more nervous you felt. You hadn't had time to pick out a decent outfit to wear, so you'd have to rush getting changed. Not that it mattered, because it definitely wasn't that kind of outing, right ?

As soon as you got to your dorm, you flung yourself into the door and changed at lighting speed. Just as you were finishing up with your hair, you heard a knock on the front door. Taking a deep breath, you went to answer it.

"Hi Jin," you smiled at the man in front of you, who looked as devastatingly handsome as ever. As he looked back down on you with his cold blue eyes, the hint of a smile played on Jin's lips as well. Without hesitation, he took your hand in his own and led you out of your dorm. You looked away, blushing. His hand was a lot larger than yours and unexpectedly warm.

"So... what did you need to discuss with me today ?" you asked, a part of you still clinging on to the hope that this wouldn't be about business matters. Jin sighed, rolling his eyes slightly.

"I'm taking you out, Y/N. I thought the flowers would have made that clear,"

You swore your heart rate tripled at hearing his response.

"Yes, sorry ... I just wanted do be sure. They were lovely, by the way, so thank you. Where are we going ? I don't have an R&R permit for today I'm afraid..."

Jin smirked at you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

"It's a surprise. And don't worry about the R&R permit, I have handled everything,"

As you walked the rest of the way to the Galaxy Express in companionable silence, you wondered what Jin could possibly have in mind. Knowing him, it was probably something fancy and expensive, like dinner at a fancy restaurant or a beach trip on his private yacht. When you finally got on the train, you sat next to each other, your leg brushing against his. He still hadn't let go of your hand., and his eyes were feasting on you as if you were a three course meal.

"Look outside," Jin gently shifted your chin towards the window in front of you, and what you saw nearly took your breath away. You were right in the middle of an endless field full of white roses just like the ones he'd gifted you. All around you, silver stars twinkled all over the purple sky, casting an almost azure glow on the roses.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, still awestruck by what you saw. "I didn't even know the Galaxy Express stopped here,"

"That's because it normally doesn't, but I bribed the conductor so he'd take us here today," Jin explained, looking smug. Your delighted look pleased him more than he wanted to admit. The Galaxy Express stopped in the middle of the field, and Jin led you out to the middle of the field, which was completely isolated. It was like you were the only two people in the world.

With a serious expression on his face, Jin let go of your hand and produced a small velvet box from the pocket of his expensive coat, which he handed to you.

"MC ... ever since you started at Darkwick academy, you have invaded every corner of my mind, and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop myself from growing closer to you. Now, I simply don't want to - you are thr only person who makes me feel this way. Be my partner, MC,"

You met Jin's serious gaze with bright eyes and a smile that lit up your entire face, which he found even more beautiful than all the roses in the surrounding field.

"Jin, there's no one more precious to me than you. Of course I'll be your partner,". As soon as you replied, Jin smiled at you, any trace of coldness gone from his eyes. Silently, he opened the box he'd given you and took out a sapphire pendant, which he fastened around your neck. Then, he leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek, his lips cold and smooth, before taking your hand in his own again and guiding you to sit down on the grass in the middle of the roses.

You didn't know how much time you'd spent like that, with his arm wrapped around your waist and your head on his shoulder as you talked and watched the stars - all you knew is that it had felt like heaven.

Masterlist

[vampirebloodie]

One Piece For Each | Mark Hoffman x Reader x Peter Strahm (Threesome)

Summary: Where Strahm and Hoffman fought so much over you that you decided to give a piece of yourself to each.

Warning: NSFW Smut 18+, creampie, degradation kink, threesome, DP.

You were one of the precinct's main criminal experts and were always busy, especially after Jigsaw's cases increased drastically, which led to special agent Peter Strahm joining the case to help with the investigations, which despite being under the command of the detective, Mark Hoffman, it seemed like weren't moving forward even with all the clues you gave at each crime scene you investigated. You even had a hunch about what could be distracting the detective, ever since you started working together Hoffman tried to ask you out on a date, but you always ended up saying no because you didn't want to mix your personal life and work, especially when half of your colleagues work were dying in traps, anyway there was no point in ignoring Hoffman when Peter arrived and started acting the same way, the worst thing is that the two of them in the same environment always ended up in a huge argument and every time for the same reason:

You.

As much as you always said that there was no point in them fighting because you wouldn't accept either of them, it seemed like they were both deaf, they never listened to you and continued with the arguments.

You had just collected some DNA samples and sent them to the laboratory, when you heard a knock on the door, you allowed entry and soon saw the agent in front of you.

“Hey Peter, how can i help you today?”

You turned your chair towards him.

“Well... How's the research going?”

“Hmm, it's a difficult question to answer, i think it's under control, i sent some samples to the laboratory today, in 24 hours we will have some possible results.”

“You’re doing so well at this job, im sure your position will level up when this is all over.”

“Thank you very much for your opinion, agent. Is good to hear that."

You smiled and so did he.

“Actually, i was thinking maybe the two of us...”

He was interrupted when that voice crossed the room, Peter's eyes rolled back in such a way that you thought they wouldn't come back.

“Y/n, you.... Hi agent Strahm, it's not a surprise to find you here, after all you chase her every day, don't you?”

Hoffman entered the room and had already started to accuse the agent, you sighed knowing what was coming.

"What? I think you’re the one who chases her every day by coming to this same room.”

Strahm stood up and you decided to say something.

“You two do this, and you want to know? I'm tired."

You stood up and took off your coat, leaving you with just your blouse, the men looked at you with a confused look. You went to the door and locked it.

“Well, i can't choose just one, i like both of you. And i guess i don’t have two holes for nothing.”

You explained with a smile on your face, both of their eyes widened.

"What do you mean by that?"

Strahm asked.

“Don't be silly. I can take both of you.”

You stood between the two and pulled each of their ties, who did you want to fool? Peter and Mark were two handsome, attractive men, good at talking and looking like they could give a great fuck, you just wanted to know if that was true or just something in your head. You had never tried double penetration, but it didn't seem like something that difficult to handle, and after all, there was a first time for everything.

“You want us to.... That? At the same time?"

Peter asked and you rolled your eyes, pretending you hadn't heard that question.

“Are you stupid or are you pretending? This slut wants us both to fuck her, but if you don’t want to i ll be happy, there’s more for me.”

Hoffman spoke without patience, your eyes lit up when you heard the way the detective had called you, you moaned feeling your hair being pulled back, seeing Peter with his hand gripping your locks, his personality seemed to have changed in a second.

"Not even. One piece for each, that's how prostitutes are treated. Honey, if you can’t handle it, it’s not our problem.”

Peter smiled and practically pushed you into Hoffman's arms, who grabbed you by the arms and threw you against the table, knocking all the papers and pens onto the floor. He placed you on all fours and forced your head down, his hands went to the belt of his pants, which he soon removed and his zipper was opened with the pants lowered, revealing his thick and large dick that was dripping with precum, you licked your lips before running his tongue all over Hoffman's length and putting it all in his mouth at once, starting to suck him, your tongue went around and around against his member, Mark sighed and moaned softly.

“You like it, don't you? Likes to suck an older man”

He said, grabbing your hair and starting to fuck your mouth, you choked every time you felt the tip of his dick touch your throat. You felt Strahm's hands on your ass, lifting your skirt up and removing your panties, he gave your ass a few slaps before you felt his hot tongue passing through all your parts from your asshole to your pussy, you moaned against Hoffman's cock, sending vibrations that made him groan, your eyes closed enjoying the feeling of Peter's tongue being rubbed, smearing all your parts.

“Not yet, bitch.”

The detective said and took his dick out of your mouth, making you let out an angry murmur, Strahm came out from behind you and soon the detective's dick was replaced by the agent's, it wasn't as big as his but it was thicker, anyway you were loving all those new sensations.

“I’m going to destroy that pussy.”

Hoffman spoke before thrusting himself inside you, making you roll your eyes at the unexpected pain of having your pussy being widened by his dick, before you could get used to his size he started to make rough movements inside you, sure enough to take out his anger at having been rejected so many times by you. You sucked and licked Peter's cock feeling Hoffman's balls hit your ass, causing a loud noise in the room. Fuck, there was no one else there but you guys.

“My turn.”

Peter spoke, lightly stroking your hair before leaving your mouth, Hoffman complained but soon left you, there was a small armchair nearby that you used sometimes. The agent's hands grabbed your waist and took you to the armchair, where he sat down and made you sit on his lap, you took a deep breath before taking his dick and fitting it at your entrance, the two of you moaned together, which sounded like to made Hoffman feel angry, he pushed you at once, making you lean more towards him, you felt the detective's cock brush your ass a few times before forcing himself inside you, you screamed against Peter's shoulder, feeling the pain and burning of your asshole being widened by his cock, tears ran down your face, but they both seemed to ignore it.

“Now the little bitch is going to cry? You chose this. Now can handle."

He said, squeezing your ass tightly, which probably left the mark of his hand there, Hoffman had a huge feeling of ownership when it came to you. You felt him enter at once and let out a silent scream, your eyes widened, Hoffman moaned loudly feeling how tight you were.

“Holy shit, you’re kneading my dick. It’s fucking tight.”

He spoke, making light movements and letting out a few grunts, Peter also started to move inside your pussy. It was a whole new sensation having two things filling your holes at the same time, you were torn between pain and pleasure, both on a slightly extreme level. You bit Peter's shoulder, feeling the detective increase his movements while the agent's hands opened your buttocks with the intention of making Hoffman fit better and increase his movements without hurting you so much in the process.

“Fuck, i had forgotten what it felt like to fuck such a tight pussy.”

Peter sighed, squeezing your waist tightly, now both men moved inside you with force, sweat ran down their faces and their moans mixed together. Peter's hand went to your clitoris where he started to make quick movements, you shivered and closed your eyes enjoying the sensation, Hoffman pulled your tank top up exposing your boobs and grabbed them, squeezing your nipples, you felt like you couldn't take it anymore all those sensations of pleasure at the same time.

“Enough, i-im going to cum.”

You warned, squeezing both of their cocks in your holes, a shock wave hit your body and you soon fell on Peter's shoulder, breathing heavily, they increased their movements in a rough tone and you screamed. The two gave a few more thrusts before you felt their hot liquids filling your holes, you breathed heavily, then they came out of you and Peter got up from the armchair, leaving you sitting there, you ignored the pain you were feeling.

"It saw? Now you don’t have to fight because of me, one piece for each.”

[venusmage]

Commission/Life update for 2024

EDIT 9/16/24

As of now I've resolved around 15 commissions since this post was made at the start of June! This is much faster than I was going the past year. They're going well and I thank everyone again who has been so patient and kind. I've gotten nothing but kindness as a response to the wait, even from those who have been waiting for over a year by now. Thank you.

I recently started two new jobs and school again, so I'm a little busy. BUT everyone is (albeit not at a super fast speed) moving up in queue! Once the owed "Full" commissions are done, I expect to get through Sketch Coms even faster and currently I'm at a good pace to be done by the end of the year.

The best days to reach me are Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at the moment. Otherwise it might take me a day or so to get back to you. I work on my own projects on the weekends to preserve my sanity, lol! Just know if I'm drawing something else, I haven't forgotten my queue!

------

Original post:

Just want everyone to know I AM okay now and life has gotten better recently. However the past year and a half have been extremely difficult and I'm only now getting back on my feet. I generally don't like sharing life details publicly, but as a freelancer with clients that have been waiting for a while I feel like transparency is key.

If you don't want an explanation for the delays and just want to know my completion timeline, that's totally okay. Here is all the info up front. I'm going to continue updating my commission queue as usual and will not be accepting any more orders until ALL of the queue is completed. I'm working on finishing the half and full bodies first since they've been the longest waiting in queue. Then the rest. I don't have a set date in mind for when they'll be all done for good but the goal is by the end of the year. I think that's more than doable for me now. If you're a client of mine and have questions/concerns, please message me either here or on Discord and I'll do my best to help you. My username on discord is the same as my Tumblr username. Twitter and Ko-Fi are also options but I don't check them as frequently. I usually work Monday-Thursday so that will be the best time to shoot me a message or expect an update to the queue.

Information on what's been going on is below.

CW for mentions of death, financial hardship and homophobia.

As a few of you might remember, in 2019 I was disowned by my mother for being a lesbian. I made the choice to go no-contact. Since then, up until LAST YEAR, she's routinely harassed me or had other family harass me, stalked me on social media, tried to get to me through the website I take commission orders, and threatened me multiple times. I was forced to move across the country both because I felt unsafe and because my partner had family elsewhere that were more accepting. I've had to change my phone number twice.

It's been extremely difficult both financially and mentally to keep my head above water. In 2021 my grandfather died and I still haven't felt like I've been able to properly grieve. I wasn't able to see him due to her and I wasn't invited to his funeral. We were very close and he meant the world to me. In 2023 my grandmother passed away very suddenly as well, and my mother used it as an excuse to harass me over ko-fi/my professional email. It was such a horrific experience that I fell into a months long spiral that I only just now feel like I'm climbing out of. This is when commissions first stalled. I was also starting to get overwhelmed, as I had to take on more work than I could realistically handle in order to pay bills and rent. That's really it - I just had to take more orders so we weren't kicked out of our apartment, and as my mental state deteriorated I couldn't keep up.

The good news is that my wife and moved earlier this year we're living with supportive(!) family now and our financial burden is much lighter. This gives me time to work on my backlog without re-opening. I'm also going to school again, back in college starting this summer for a second degree. For my own health after commissions are finished I'm likely going to take a break on opening them for a good while, even though I really enjoy doing them.

In the past two months amazing and not-amazing things have happened. The amazing thing is I got an ADHD diagnosis, something I didn't even know had been ruining my life for years. I'm still getting used to the proper medications but I'm already seeing a big improvement. It's as much of a relief as it is frustrating. My mother also reared her head again (like she usually does at least once a year) - this time, though, I learned she'd had a stroke. While I'm not involved with her anymore, I think most people could understand how it would still be a very weird and upsetting situation. As of right now I'm free of her once again, she seems to be making a good recovery and will hopefully continue to live a happy life far away from me. Still, those two things back to back have been a LOT to deal with on top of just trying to get better in general. I stepped away from the internet for a while for my own sanity.

The downside to being a freelancer is that there's not always a safety net. That's what happened to me. Thank you all very much for being kind and patient, I genuinely have had nothing but polite interactions with all of you and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry my personal bullshit got in the way of getting my work done for you. This is the longest I've ever taken to complete commissions and it's something that I'm deeply ashamed of. I promise they will get done. Being medicated and starting to recover from the family drama has revitalized me a bit. If you have any questions or concerns please reach out.

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

Simon "not feeling anything"

“It was fine, it was sex” is one of those lines I keep coming back to because what does that mean. Even removed from context, in a scale of things that are supposed to be mind-blowingly fantastic or, at the very least, actually good, just "fine" will be perceived as negative. If you prepare someone a meal and they say "it was fine, it was food," you're probably going to think they didn't like it. If someone went out to pick a dress for a special occasion, and they go "it was fine, it was a dress" about the dress they picked... if you don't think they fucking hated that dress, you're likely assuming that person doesn't care about dresses at all. Like, dresses do not cause positive emotions at all. Picking a dress feels like nothing, perhaps. Maybe it's even it's even boring as hell.

A big component of that line is that it sounds dismissive, even more so because it comes with a Simon who is trying to change the subject. He would very much rather not talk and think about this at all (his final word on the matter is a dismissal as well – "it doesn't matter" – which comes in the context of highlighting the difference when you actually want it... "this is how it feels like when you're in love and turned on and so I actually want to do it, whatever works between Baz and me, as opposed to that other time when it wasn't like this and it was the opposite"). But there's something else I want to highlight here...

Fine, in the context of negative things, might not necessarily be seen as positive, but as something that you can handle.

In that sense, maybe it was "fine." In a fucked up way, maybe it was something that could be handled because it felt like nothing. (If this is something impossible for you to imagine, I invite you to look up conversations of real people who fall somewhere in the acespectrum sharing things in the vein of "I tried sex to see what all the buzz was about and it felt like literally nothing. Like washing my car: a tedious exercise. Maybe we're wired differently" – it's obviously not literally nothing, you can very much feel if something or someone touches you, but maybe you get the idea of what I'm trying to say.)

Simon has completely convinced himself that not feeling anything is fine – it's part of why his feelings for Baz are so difficult, and not just when it comes to deciphering them... having them at all is difficult. It's so much. The lack of feelings is what he liked about dating Agatha, after all. Having different interpretations is obviously alright, my own interpretations are richer after seeing others point out things that made me see things I didn’t notice (or saying things that sound wrong and interrogating “why does reading this make me feel like I just licked a goddamn lemon”) but sometimes, somethings are just missing the point. The point is that Simon doesn’t have those feelings for Agatha. If he had been attracted to her, he would have experienced certain feelings he would need to negotiate with. But he never had to do that – he's thrown into the reality of his feelings for Baz with no map, no guidelines, no clue of what do with himself at all. His attraction for Baz throws him into uncharted territory, not just in terms of intensity, but in terms of feeling anything of that nature at all. That doesn't fit into Simon's fucked up idea of "fine." Baz notes Simon goes from 0 to 100, without realizing how much that truly applies. (I'm sure I have other posts that are basically: before discovering he loves and wants Baz, Simon's only intense emotion that he's familiar with is anger, and it would be easy to mix up that heat with attraction to Baz, with whom he's constantly picking fights with, seeking his attention...)

Part of the point is that Baz is the first time he’s dealing with what attraction and romantic love truly feel like, and on top of that, is intense as hell. It's The Love. The Attraction of a lifetime – of many lives, even. Of all of them. If Simon ever had such feelings for Agatha, she would never have felt safe. I don't think people truly realize that when they speculate "there must have been the flames of something" between them at some point. If she had awakened those things at such a precarious and controlled part of Simon's life – we can't ignore how much his emotions had an effect on his crazy magic – it would not have been "fine." She wouldn’t have been an armor, for him ("if you’re as beautiful as her" — not only conforming but standing out in terms of beauty standards is a form of “standing out” in "the right way," of being aspiration — you are untouchable — the opposite of being neglected or rejected for someone as him). "She's the type of person a boy like me is supposed to want" wouldn't have been safe by itself if she also made him feel like exploding (his attraction for Baz, when Simon tries to act on it, feels like going off).

For the record, Simon's "fine" is not the good type of fine. It's not the type of "fine" that makes you sigh in relief. This is a guy who could get shot and say "I'm fine" while bleeding out. And that's just the thing. Simon "not feeling” is necessary so he can live according to others like he does, but it’s not that he doesn’t actually feel anything. He's not made of stone. But he represses his actual feelings, even without realizing (sometimes he's not repressed he can't even identify the thing being repressed, it's just hidden away somewhere... until he can) and seeks situations that don’t awaken anything in him. It's what's more comfortable... and you have to keep in mind this is someone who's used to be uncomfortable. Discomfort is familiar. It's "fine." Being in situations he doesn't actually want to be is "fine" because he can't even identify his own wants. It's not even a factor.

But it's not really fine in the good sense of the word. If it was, he wouldn't self-harm through that conversation, for once (using physical pain to distract himself from the internal discomfort – external discomfort feels good in comparison). It's not "fine" to date someone long-term when you don't feel anything (other than friendship, very tellingly) for them. It doesn't "save you" from feelings, it just makes you sad.

Since Simon avoids processing, he lacks vocabulary to describe what’s happening. Not thinking about what he wants also means he doesn’t question what he doesn’t want... and even if it doesn't seem like a big deal, doing unwanted things still has effects, even if you avoid processing them (I'm sure I wrote that post so I'm not going to elaborate here but I''ll say: associating sex with pressure, not pleasure – only food is associated with pleasure before Simon has sex with Baz – is one such effect). “It was just going through the motions” is Penny’s vocabulary. It's something she says to Simon when he's still not ready to process that everything he believes to be just "fine" it's not. The way he's been living up to that point (according to what everyone expects of him, following a map, not ever making choices about anything ever outside of battles and stalking Baz – Simon's only "me time" is about Baz) is not fine. If you make a list of every moment Simon acts genuinely, truly happy on the page? Most of them are about him being close to Baz. Kissing Baz, touching Baz, taking to Baz. Making choices about how to live his life (by itself unfamiliar, and does not feel "fine").

Sex with Baz is not fine. And it's not just because it's better than fine on a scale of "was it good?" (even acknowledging something like "I had sex and it wasn't good" it's feeling something – negative feelings are also not fine if the full force of them are processed, they're only fine if they can be pushed aside and repressed). It's not fine because it makes Simon feel so much, and after being so used to nothingness, it's a complete shock to his system. It's going from 0 to 100. It's bigger than magic – even the one he had (and back then, releasing his magic was the only type of release he knew... it's no wonder that another type of release would be so difficult, after all, the only type of release he's used to is destructive... but that's another post, too)

[restinslices]

If it's alright with you, can you write the lin kuei trio with a s/o, who is a detective tracking down a serial killer who is going to target s/o and the lin kuei trio's reaction to it.

I can confidently say I have never gotten a request like this

Handle it or he's handling it 

It's as simple as that 

Did Bi-Han let his own father die? Yes. But for whatever reason he didn't fuck with him 

I'm assuming he fucks with you though, so the thought of someone hunting you down is not something he's very fond of 

I don't think he'd have any strong feelings about you being a detective. Not everyone can be out and about fighting people from other realms. Some people gotta do some protective work for the smaller people 

So you being a detective is whatever to him

When you say you're hunting down a serial killer, I don't think he'd have any strong emotions either. He just assumes you'll catch them soon. His faith is pretty high 

When it's revealed the serial killer is hunting you, that obviously becomes a big problem 

A problem he has to solve 

If you're like “No Bi-Han! I got it! Let me find them and end this!” he'll consider giving you a set amount of time before he handles it 

Doesn't know how he's gonna track this unknown person down but his faith in himself is stupidly high 

If you find them and lock whoever up then great for you 

If the agreed time passes and they're still on the loose, he becomes Batman. Get out the way. He got it 

No point in protesting either. Just sit at home and let him figure it out 

He becomes the annoying boss in police movies. Y'all know what I mean 

Definitely finds the person eventually and finishes the job for you 

Hooray?

Honestly I think all the brothers are a “handle it or I'll handle it” case 

Thoughts on you being a detective are positive. I think he can see how difficult that certain job would be 

He's fighting with his fists. You're using your brain. You're both helping people. 

He admires it lowkey 

You're hunting down a serial killer now? Ok. Be safe-

What do you mean you're a target now?

He kinda saw it coming but it's still unfortunate 

He'd understand still wanting to lead this case and he applauds standing your ground, but he's also worried because ya know, you could be killed 

He'd try to assist but at some point he would really want you to let someone else handle it 

By someone else, he means him 

He's a trained assassin. He can probably hunt this guy faster than you can 

Has more patience than Bi-Han but if a lot of time passes and they're not handled, then he'll step in 

He probably would've warned you beforehand that this was something that would happen but as we can see, you either didn't listen or still slipped up 

It's not that he thinks you can't handle it… kinda. 

You're just not moving quick enough 

I think he’d be nice enough to remind you he has faith in you but would vocalize his concerns when it comes to you still working on this case 

Whether or not you decide to drop it is up to you, but he’s definitely not 

Thoughts on you being a detective I think are also positive

He thinks you're doing a good thing

The Lin Kuei can't help everyone. They do more bigger things 

So you helping civilians is great to him. It's a good cause 

I think he'd also enjoy hearing about your cases and chiming in whenever 

Hunting down a serial killer? Well, he guesses someone has to do it 

He'd be confident enough in your abilities to catch this person 

But then you're the next target

I think honestly all the brothers would have a similar reaction. So much so, I don't think there'd be much of a change. I probably could've written this in one paragraph 

He could possibility be the most cooperative when it comes to letting you handle it

Gives you the most time to figure it out and tries to help out as a partner 

Doesn’t wanna step on your toes but if you’re taking too long, he’s gonna do his own investigating 

Probably asks Kuai Liang for assistance 

I’m not saying any of them would find this person in days time, but they certainly believe they will 

Worried about your safety as you could imagine, so he wants you to sit this one out 

He’s probably conflicted, like what I said with Kuai Liang. One part is like “yeah, you gotta find this person!” And the other is like “you need to sit down so you’ll be safe”

Probably prefers for you to do all your investigating at home. Any leads you have you’ll either follow together, he’ll follow it, or someone else will 

I think all the brothers will want to help as much as they could and would wanna handle this serial killer. And by handle, I don’t mean letting them go to prison. You can get out of that if you play your cards right 

The only real difference is how much they let you help after they find out you’re a target 

Bi-Han is like “I gave you time. You’re done. I got it”. Kuai Liang is “I knew this would happen and I know you wanna stand your ground, but maybe take a step down” and Tomas is “I get it so let me help”

This is kinda boo boo. Also I hate their little moodboards I made. It’s sickening

[pikahlua]

tbf i think most (?) ppl that complain abt the villains' ending do it because of their background of abuse/neglect/rejection/mental health issues and the narrative of it being too late for them to be saved. to me personally i don't have a problem with how hori handled their stories but i have a very pessimistic pov abt life so to me it works, but to someone that wanted a more hopeful ending for them i can see how the story might be a letdown.

See, I know this is true because I've seen people talk this way, but it's a reframing of what's actually happening in the story. I hate to have to say it this way in the same way I hated having to say this about victims of bullying who projected onto Izuku and wished he confronted Katsuki differently, but just because a reader wishes they could be saved by society doesn't mean that's how the villains felt. I'm not even a villain stan, but I personally can relate well to their rebellion against society and their refusal to conform to it. In death, the villains maintain the principles they stood for, the rejection of society's harms, the RIGHTEOUS parts of their rebellions--and they force others to consider them. It's a final vengeance against the society that wronged them, and it effects real change in the world.

I have some background in Japanese literature on the topic of suicide, so I'm familiar with the cultural differences surrounding suicide at play here. I've seen before how difficult a topic this is to grasp for those coming from a western cultural background. There's a LOT of personal baggage to unpack just to get to a point of understanding about the attitudes towards death and the history of suicide in Japan. And since MHA appeals to a younger audience who look to see themselves in the media they relate to, the situation becomes even more fraught with the potential for misunderstanding. I don't think this is about hope vs pessimism. I think the villains' endings truly were hopeful, but they can only be so when seen in a certain light. It's not about how the villains needed to die for there to be a happy ending, nor is it about how suicide or death are good things we should encourage. It's about how the individual villains found meaning in their lives, their personal journeys as characters in a story, and about the impacts they had on others so that they could leave behind their legacies. And I think the hopeful tone of the ending supports that interpretation.

[gamebunny-advance]

Misc. Pikmin 4 Character Trivia

(Updated 08/14/24)

Recent updates: Changed wording of some entries for clarity.

---------

Ever wanted all the Pikmin 4 character trivia in one place? Well, here you go. If I missed anything, feel free to let me know and I'll update this post.

Note: I'm not covering the Hocotatians & Koppaites because the former are major characters with a lot about them already written, and the only interesting trivia (IMO) about the latter is already "common knowledge."

This also isn't a document of *every* line of dialogue that a castaway can say. This is just stuff that I thought was interesting and/or info that you can't get from just reading their ID or talking to them once. Some castaways don't have any entries because they're either not that interesting or don't actually talk about themselves much.

Rescue Officers

Collin

Has a wireless transceiver that has been passed down to him by his grandfather. He refuses to replace it and instead just fixes it whenever it breaks.

His hobby is tinkering with machines.

He's worked several odd jobs in the past to help pay for his education. These jobs include collecting space trash, ship construction, and cleaning the "outer walls of the colony". He considers his work as the comms operator to be significantly more difficult than any of his past jobs.

This has caused him to be multi-talented, but it also causes others to take advantage of him.

Despite this, he apparently isn't one for "physical labor."

Collin considers PNF-404 to be tiny, though this may be in reference to the universe, in which all planets could be considered "tiny."

Shepherd considers him young, but in reference to who/what is unknown.

Only in the comics, Oatchi seems to dislike Collin.

Shepherd

She has the highest certificate ranking in the Rescue Corps, and a special certification in Rescue Pup training. This is something very few officers have.

She spends all of her breaks at a dog run near the Rescue corps HQ.

Apparently, she spends much of their budget on dog food.

She met Dingo before she was captain when they were both training. This may mean that she's known him the longest of the other members. Most others are implied to have met her/been recruited by her when she was already captain.

She exceeds Dingo in martial arts and cross-country.

She doesn't seem aware of Dingo's crush on her.

She seems to experience some form of imposter syndrome during the main campaign but overcomes it near the end of the game.

Her family has lived with dogs since at least the first Captain's generation. Additionally, their family is implied to be immigrants from a different planet. Their original planet is unknown, but is highly implied to be Earth/PNF-404.

Her family's motto is, "There's no better judge of character than a dog."

By her own admission, the only creatures she can "handle" are dogs. Whether this also excludes other domesticated creatures is currently unknown.

Russ

His family runs a megacorporation on Giya, and as a result is incredibly wealthy. They're so wealthy that they can regularly afford golden pikpik carrots and just casually blend them into juice for a snack.

Said family is also very large and extravagant and seems to always invite the other rescue officers to their many parties, much to the latter's chagrin.

His mother is notorious in the Rescue Corps for "being quite the character."

He claims to have only joined the Rescue Corps out of curiosity.

While he lords his intellect above most others, he still recognizes Yonny as a genius in the medical field.

He wears a lab coat under his spacesuit. His mother gifted him 64 of them to bring on their current trip.

The Emergency Kit was the first item he prototyped after joining the Rescue Corps.

He is a fan of the reporter Muggs.

His natural hair color may be green, as this is the color of his eyebrows.

He's apparently prone to "interesting" injuries, likely due to failed inventions.

Dingo

Decided to become a rescue officer after being saved in the mountains by Shepherd's father, the previous Rescue Corps captain.

He dislikes dogs due to being traumatized by one during the same rescue, as he believed the rescue pup was trying to attack him.

He appears to fear Russ's mother.

He apparently believes that any drink (and possibly food, given his theft of Bernard's pizza) sitting out belongs to him.

Acknowledges that Collin is probably their most important team member, but he still takes advantage of his kindness from time to time.

He tends to refer to most of the officers by their title/job rather than name. (Comms guy for Collin, Science guy for Russ, the captain, etc.) Except Yonny which he shortens to "Yon."

He's childhood friends with Yonny.

Yonny

He's an avid reader, but prefers paper books to digital ones. He has boxes of them shipped to HQ regularly and they would have taken up 27 shelves on the ship if he were allowed to bring just the ones he wanted.

Has experimented on at least Shepherd and Dingo without their full consent. The former by not being transparent about what was in a vitamin supplement he gave her, and the latter by abusing his tendency to drink anything that's just sitting out. He has attempted to experiment on Collin, but it is unknown if he succeeded in doing so.

He's technically also experimented on Oatchi without consent as he tested the leafling cure on him without alerting anyone beforehand.

Apparently bursts into maniacal laughter when working in the lab by himself. The other officers just ignore it.

He's childhood friends with Dingo.

Bernard

He is very picky about food, to the point that their food storage has a special section just for him. It consists of expensive, specialized foods.

Like Collin, he has worked several different jobs over his career (including the president of a space-flight company). In the Japanese script, this is *apparently reflected in him having a combination of different dialects.

Also, like Collin, he considers his job as an officer to be significantly more difficult than his other jobs. However, he also considers it the most rewarding.

He invented an all-in-one meal drink that put a boxed lunch company out of business, solely because he finds digging through lunch boxes to be a pain.

Shepherd recruited him after he was able to deliver some packages for her faster than the post office would.

He has a history with a castaway named Santi whom he considered himself to be a part of a "dynamic duo" with. They were born about the same time, went to school and college together, and at some point became the latter's flight instructor. Bernard thinks of Santi fondly, but the feeling is not mutual.

He once piloted a 20,000 hour (just over two years) flight.

*(source)

Civilian Castaways + Their Planets

Research Task Force

Twyla and Komo are close friends due to their mutual introversion. They consider each other "irreplaceable".

Komo considers Chet easy to talk to.

Twyla considers the concept of plate tectonics to be unheard of on her home planet. This may imply that Conohan doesn't have any natural mountains, volcanoes, trenches, earthquakes, etc.

Sammy's home planet of Ocobo was not always ravaged by perpetual storms. But once they started, the entire planet flooded and their planet's engineers developed artificial islands for the people to live on.

Sy is the youngest member of the Research Task Force.

Osa is Kit's senior.

Chet has considered asking Ren to try cooking the creatures of the planet, but ultimately decides against it.

TV Crew

Wolfgang and Muggs get engaged at the end of the game. If you talk to Muggs before rescuing Wolfgang, she will drop hints about already having some romantic interest in him.

Muggs is possibly one of only other people that can understand what Oatchi's thinking if her comments from Oatchi are to be believed.

Vonda claims that Wolfgang is apparently a good singer. Comparatively, she struggles to say nice things about Olimar's humming.

Frisé wrote a song called, "Song of Love." This is likely a reference to "Ai no Uta" a song used in the promotion of Pikmin (2001). The title directly translates to "Song of Love." However, the lyrics of the two songs seem completely different.

Satella Travel Employees + Guests

Molly appears to have a crush on Russ. She finds his intellect attractive and wants to wear his glasses.

Molly might also be of a higher intellect given that she once made and launched an unmanned rocket in a single night by herself (even if it exploded).

The name of the travel agency that Chewy and Santi work for, the Satella Travel Agency, is a reference to the Nintendo Satellaview.

Sheeba apparently resembles Chewy's boss.

Santi learned his piloting skills from Bernard.

He also seems to have a similar "accent" to Bernard, but it only comes out when speaking about the latter.

Santi appears to be fond of Chewy and is considering becoming a permanent employee for her sake. Whether these feelings are romantic in nature is unclear.

Planetary Science Club

Despite being the Planetary Science Club's adviser, Mika actually teaches ethics and knows very little about any kind of planetary science.

Sheeba appears fearful of Oatchi.

Sheeba wants to become a teacher when she grows up.

The Planetary Science Club students went on the planetary tour on a free raffle, but Mika had to pay out of pocket.

Kaia gave Mika a nickname: Meeki. Mika likes it, but Sheeba thinks it's unprofessional.

Keesh is apparently stronger than Sheeba, Kaia, and Mika combined.

Others

All of Beaux's roles in movies/shows are references to other Nintendo games and IPs. Specifically the first 3 Pikmin games where he plays the Olimar expy, Animal Crossing: New Horizons, Mario, Kirby, and Link.

In a similar vein, his twin brother Alpin's company is called "e-Leader" as a reference to Nintendo's "e-Reader" accessory.

Alpin inherited the company from their father and works so Beaux can pursue his dreams of being an actor.

Alpin knows Fawks well enough to know exactly how he likes his coffee. (1 cup of coffee with 2 spoonfuls of milk, and 3 sugarcubes.)

From Kayz we learn a little about the different biomes on the other planets: Siguray has a scorching desert, Flukuey has steep, rocky mountains, and Ooji has a lush jungle.

Patch admits that he sees a "darkness" in Olimar's eyes, which implies that this is not the captain's first life-or-death experience.

Patch is implied to have been or was inspired by a pundit to pursue his current lifestyle.

Bernise will actually change her fortune for you every in-game day.

Dalmo has been interested in creatures since childhood.

His hometown also has a waterfront, confirming that Sozor has at least one significant body of water.

While Dalmo never ascribes malice to any of the creatures, he appears somewhat cynical about society, calling adults the only beings capable of intentional deceit and acknowledging that being popular means not having to work as hard to get to the top.

Shnauz's home planet of Siguray apparently has iridescent, water-dwelling newts.

Jin has studied traditional sports, combat sports, martial arts, and the art of battle.

One of Corgwin's first builds was a dog-house.

Speculative material below the cut.

Planet Generalizations

Some castaways from certain planets seem to have similar personalities/traits. Given that it's stated that things like the Koppaites' general inability to plan/being picky eaters is inherent to their race, it's possible that these generalizations apply to the rest of the races as well. I have not included planets with only one castaway. These are detailed below.

Sozor (Dalmo, Grace, Horatio): Have anti-social personalities. Dalmo prefers creatures to people and has a cynical streak when talking about society. Grace seems disinterested in society as a whole and has basically removed herself from it by becoming a drifter. Horatio, while attempting to be friendly with the player, is ultimately inept at social interactions which is noted by Chewy.

Flukuey (Jin, Molly, Dash, Patch): Are prone and/or attracted to high-risk work/situations. Jin is an explorer, Molly is a streamer of limited success, Dash is a spelunker from a well off-family, and Patch is unemployed but purposefully puts himself in dangerous situations for the thrill.

Ooji (Francois, Kingsly): Love flowers/plant life. Francois studies plant-life, and Kingsly is a florist. Given that Ooji is also known for its lush jungles, a knowledge and/or appreciation for plant life may be essential to living on the planet.

Koodgio (Lapi, Boris): Artistic types. Lapi is a painter and Boris is an author.

Siguray (Shnauz, Kit, Osa): Place a lot of value on material items. Shnauz appraises treasure, Kit is interested in minerals, and Osa is interested in archeology.

Ohri (Yonny, Dingo): Their kind is especially "tough" due to living in the mountains. This is said on the Pikmin Garden website and is reflected in how Dingo is a ranger and is able to complete most dandori challenges single-handedly, and Yonny who was active during the night time, the most dangerous time of the day, before he was rescued.

Nijo (Bernard, Santi): It's common for their people to change jobs frequently while they look for their "soul work/job." This is said on the Pikmin Garden website and is reflected in how both Bernard and Santi have claimed to have worked several different jobs during their lives. It seems that both have also found their "soul work" with the Rescue Corps and Satella Travel respectively.

Castaways where it's difficult to determine if their similar traits would be found in their race due to other factors:

Ogura (Sy, Pitunia): Both are interested in studying the onion and their environmental factors surrounding it, but both are also a part of the Research Task Force, a group made of individuals that are interested in studying the planet in general, so it's hard to say if this would be something inherent to all Ogurains, or if they just happen to have a mutual interest in this area of study.

Enohee (Ren, Frise, Muggs, Wolfgang): 3 of the 4 are a part of the same crew so would have common interests by default. Arguably all 4 are interested in entertainment as Ren, the only castaway from this planet that isn't a part of the TV crew, was on a cooking show, so TV might be a very important industry to Enohee.

Neechki (Kaia, Sheeba, Keesh, Mika, Chewy): 4 of the 5 are in the same club and would have similar interests by default (and even then, Mika is not interested in planetary science), and Chewy has little in common with the rest of them.

Planets where I couldn't identify a common thread:

Enohay (Puddle, Vonda, Bernise): I would have said creative/artistic fields due to Puddle being a stylist and Vonda being a singer, but I don't think a fortune-teller really falls under that.

Conohan (Twyla, Chowder, Alpin, Fawks, Beaux): 3 of the 5 are business owners/business savy, 4 of the 5 have a same-sex partner/friend that they're associated with, and 2 are siblings. But I couldn't find a singular trait which all 5 had. In a sense, I suppose this would imply that Conohan is a very diverse planet.

Giya (Shepherd, Collin, Russ): Another diverse group whose only commanality is that they're in the Rescue Corp. However, given the stark difference between Collin's and Russ's financial situations, this may imply that Giya has significant class inequality.

[bigblueoctoling]

It really irks me whenever I see people who call Side Order's story mediocre.

Like, as I've discussed, there are things I dislike about it, but I feel like on a character level it's so much deeper than anything we've gotten out of Splatoon so far, to the point where I can't help but think you're dense if you think the story of side order is just "you defeat the big evil robot and win the game".

I went down this road of thought because I was thinking about Marina as representation of an autistic person, and how shockingly well it was handled, and furthermore, how relevant it is to the story.

For one, the things that set her apart as an autistic person don't make her out as an outcast, they are celebrated, Pearl seems to actively cherish them, even when she's not able to fully match her level of intellect.

But on top of that, the game is very intimately about exploring Marina's psyche, and confronts her struggles with relating to others without making her out to be asocial because of it.

Most relevantly, the core focus of Side Order is about Marina's subconscious fear of change, something very relatable as an autistic person- that, despite how obvious it might seem to do in retrospect, it was a difficult leap to make, as someone born into a bad situation. It's such a nuanced moral and it says so much about Marina, an obviously autistic character, in such a positive and uplifting way...

Like, not only is Marina the best autistic representation Nintendo has done, I genuinely feel like Marina is the best written autistic character I've ever seen. I know people within the splatoon fandom never stop talking about Marina and Pearl but I feel like outside of the context of splatoon that fact isn't talked about enough.

[prettyboykatsuki]

okay fr what do you think scara is like in bed? what’s he into, what’re his kinks, the whole shebang?

modern scaramouche hc's

✭ tags ; sub!chara, dom!reader (they bottom but parts are unspecificed so gn!reader as well), this is also my modern!scaramouche take so just be aware, bratting, rough sex, slapping, hitting, a lil degradation, reader is v careful abt scaramouches boundaries tho, romantic implications reader is stronger than scara + he is short king, etc

✭ wc ; 2.1k (im soooo ashamed. anon im so sorry)

✭ a/n ; this got so out of hand so quickly. this is my personal scaramouche this has nothing to do with anyone but me and my delusions sorry in advance.

like really. cant describe how subjective this is but i also refuse to change my mind or see him any other way. thank u so much for inquiring

my modern scaramouche is usually aged like. 20-something in college. he goes to a nice university (a very competitive school mind you.) he was really concerned about excelling for like most of his hs career. kind of a loner except tartaglia who adopted him into his friend group.

he panics about his degree for the longest time cause he doesn't know what to do - but settles on civil architecture and minors in fine art.

he has his ears pierced and some other piercings too that he was peer pressured into, but overall likes how they look. he's not usually very dressed up and all of his closet is so oversized because comfort > fashion BUT he never looks like a slob either.

has like 3 other friends on campus (kazuha + mona + childe who somehow followed him there)

complicated relationship with his mom + stepmom (he doesn't hate her but they do not communicate so tons of misunderstandings between them. like sooo many)

and. usually not actively looking to date anyone ever. he had like one crush one time in highschool but chickened out so miserably and SEETHED about it the whole time.

after that he swore to never, ever, ever go back to that dark place and sort of just focused on his career and school. his major is pretty difficult so it takes a lot of his time

plus he's a little pretentious, stuck up little shit so only a few people can handle him in the first place.

anyways. u meet through tartaglia who thinks you two will get along really well (and he's trying to set you both up bc he thinks you two could work well together)

its honestly like oil and water. you're personality just rubs him the wrong way. sure childe is annoying, but he's stupid

you're...not stupid. you're kind of clever and you treat him with like. a sense of disrespect he hates. scaramouche is used to people who let him have the upperhand

but you're always pretty quick to shoot him down. you never let him him get away with anything and you guys have this like... insane back and forth for months

its the slowest of burns. he swears he hates you.

(he doesn't though. he thinks its really fucking attractive that you talk back to him and don't let him intimidate you ever. but he loathes that feeling. he also loathes how nice your laugh is and how easy it is to talk to you)

scaramouche spends. AGES. ages in denial. closes his eyes to it. its like 6 months deep into it - he starts having wet dreams and he wakes up HORRIFIED with himself.

WORSE? scaramouche knows about your sex life. not through you but through observation and gossip. he's not fucking you in the dreams. you're fucking him.

humiliated, he simply tries to ignore it. but it's making him so much moody than usual and because you two spend so much time together - you notice almost right away. of course you do.

"whats got your panties in a twist lately? not that you're usually sunshine and rainbows but you're acting like a little kid"

scaramouche says something mean. like, really mean in response. he's just so frustrated. its a personal jab, farther than he'd usually go.

he's expecting to sabotage himself you know? he does that sometimes. pushes people away when they get too close. it's a miracle he has any friends. he's expecting you to get annoyed and leave.

but there's this like. chill to your voice. and you're looking straight at him.

"you don't talk to me like that, understand? i don't care how shitty your mood is."

one hit k.o. he can't even breathe. what's wrong with him and what is happening to him, and holy shit why do you sound like that.

"sorry," he apologizes (him. he's apologizing first) "just. frustrating,"

and you immediately slink back to your usual self. and he's relieved and a little excited and just overall restless because he can't stop thinking about what just happened.

"it's fine. i like being on your ass or whatever but it's bothering me that you're so moody. maybe you really do need to get laid,"

the joke is one you often to make. it's meant to lighten the mood. but scaramouche is feeling pent-up and horny and that's kind of exactly what he needs

"s-shut up. it's not like you're going to do it,"

internally he's hoping you take the bait. he is equal parts horrified and excited watching you take in the information. you give him a lazy smile as you sit up and look at him.

"huh. do you...want me to do it?"

oh dear god. oh fuck.

"so what if i did?"

and then you laugh, which he can't decipher. he's gearing himself to be made fun of. he watches you with big wide yes as you come sit on the desk near him. feels your fingers trail his jaw and tilt his head up and holy shit he might really die.

he can barely look up at you.

"is that why you've been acting weird for last couple of weeks?" your voice is so smug and scaramouche is so turned on it's stupid. he hates it. hates himself. hates everything

"shut up,"

and then, you grab his chin. really make him look at you and it's startling but he doesn't pull away. you look gleeful.

"that why you've been running with your tail between your legs when you see me?" you hum, your eyes almost predatory "cause you want me to fuck you?"

its times like this scaramouche he could be honest. because that's exactly what he wants, but he hates having to say it.

"as if you could satisfy me," he says, instead. your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to register it all in your head.

"you're such a fucking brat," you say, light. affectionate, really. it makes his heart pump "you think i can't?"

"i'd like to see you try," he says, absolutely and utterly in disbelief internally. you grin.

"can i kiss you?"

"why're you asking?"

"cause im an asshole, not a villain,"

you and scaramouche makeout in a study room before he decides to to get ahold of himself and invites you into his dorm. he's never been so thankful in his life that his roomate is gone.

when you get scaramouche into bed - it really dawns on him how out of his element he is. he's not a virgin - a few awkward and usually bad hook-ups in his repertoire.

but you're not like them. he's bitey and on edge but you handle him. ask for permission for little things, clarifications for what he's okay with. you're thoughtful, despite how much he's lashing out.

and it's turning scaramouche so much he doesn't know how to handle it other than doing it again. he wants to provoke you so much. he wants to put him in his place over and over.

it's mid makeout he pulls away, frustration all-welled up inside him that he asks. he's hard and needy and needs something to get him off.

"i knew you were all talk," he sneers, putting as much of himself in it as he can "this is nothing,"

you look at him very seriously "you're really asking for it, huh," you say with a sigh "do you know what you're getting into?"

"nothing serious obviously,"

"usually when i deal with brats like you, i treat 'em real rough. im being nice to you cause you're so pent up, but it's like you don't want that," you grab his face again, getting close and personal this time and scaramouche feels like he'll collapse "want me to treat you mean and put you in your place? hit you and make you cry?"

oh it ruins his life. that's exactly what he wants. what he needs from you so much it aches. so much he chokes.

"wh-what the hell are-"

but you make him face forward, look you in your eyes.

"your first lesson is answer me when i talk to you. is that what you want? you can nod if you can't say it,"

so he nods and you laugh.

"yeah? should smack the brat outta you shouldn't i?

you're asking for permission. despite his everything, there's something affectionate about it. he feels his stomach twist with desire.

"just fucking do it already,"

"tell me if you need to stop,"

"i said—"

it's unceremonious, really. when scaramouche feels the palm of your hands on his cheek, landing heavy and hard as you push him back against the bed. you hit him.

he liked it. makes his cock throb in his fucking jeans, feeling the sting.

"your second lesson is don't fucking mouth at me," you practically spit. there's some roughness in your actions that make scaramouche keen as you crawl on top of him "can't even deal with your moods without lashing out."

scaramouche feels his stomach churn as your hands make rough work of him. you pin his wrists over his head, tell him to keep it there.

and of course he refuses, disobeys - gets to feel how strong you actually are when you spit the words back in his face again to hold fucking still.

scaramouche keeps doing it. keeps pushing until you have to put him back where he belongs forcibly. he doesn't know that he's doing it

but he wants something he can't name, a desire that aches so deep in his chest. he wants you to take responsibility for him - like a promise of some kind.

he likes the way your mouth feels on his skin. your teeth feel so good sinking into pale flesh. the scratch of your nails and sting of your palms as you spank and hit and push his body.

you manhandle him so fucking easily, putting him in every position you can think of. on his knees, or his back - naked and waiting.

you tease scaramouche till he's honest, your voice coarse until he starts giving in.

you're so good with your hands. your fingers, your mouth. you know just the right things to get him all squirmy - praising him when he's getting desperate towards the end.

his sense of shame nowhere to be found as he gets close to the edge. as you tip him over it, he can feel all the tension bleed out of him. goes from bitching, to whiny - needy and not above begging.

he doesn't even understand it. can't wrap his head around it all the way - lets you guide him through the feeling as he starts feeling pliant.

you let him fuck you with mercy. don't make him work for it, just sit on his cock and tell him that he looks so much better when he's all messed up for you and he just. melts completely. like feels like he's gonna fall through the floor.

he cries when he cums. sobs a little as he finally gets relief then melts into your bed like a pile of wet sand as you finish yourself off and overstimulate him a little in the process.

after all is said and done - he falls asleep basically immediately after the high.

when he wakes up the next day - you haven't left. he's like kind of nuzzled up in your arms (which. is wild bc he has always hated physical touch but? apparently not with you)

when you stir awake, you're immediately whistling. you even press a kiss to his forehead and brush his hair out of his face.

"you awake? feel okay?" you hum, so stupidly tender and scaramouche has to fight every urge to push you away.

"im...fine. you're still here," he says unhelpfully. you chuckle.

"yeah. figured you would start spiraling if i left in the middle of the night"

he is horrified at the accuracy.

"it's weird when you're being all...nice to me,"

"its a lot easier since i realize you just wanted to be put in your place," you say with a knowing him. scaramouche elbows you "it's cute, it's cute. don't kill me,"

"you're annoying,"

"yeah, i know. i wiped you down a bit but we should shower and i gotta make sure you're not too hurt anywhere,"

"i'm not a flower,"

"i was bein' pretty rough and its my job to take care of you,"

"why would that be your job?"

"cause im a responsible sexual partner and we're seeing each other, i figure?"

he flushes at the implication. he doesn't want to think about it as he cuddles himself into your side. ugh. whatever.

"who said that?"

"do you want me to see other people?"

"i'll kill you,"

"that's what i thought,"

scaramouche hates it but does not have the confidence to protest you.

scaramouche realizes with the weight of the world on his shoulders that he is the most submissive brat in the fucking world

he decides not to think about it for a while