#kinda thing that she knows is irrational in a sense but it's not like one can control their own feelings

[laugtherhyena]

merry christmas!

-

Maybe, in another universe,

Benitsuru tightened the grip she had on her pajamas. Her father still wasn't home-- he said he'd be back early tonight.

People have time for me.

Hamato had to go a bit ago. She didn't understand why-- buncha grownup nonsense words leaving his mouth. Probably just an excuse to get away from her.

Maybe, in another universe,

The old grandfather clock began to chime. She hated that chime. Hated that it signified that same-old excuse that her so-called father made.

I'm not a burden.

She should be in bed by now. It was reaching 22:00, which meant she should be sound asleep. But she didn't feel sleepy.

Maybe, in another universe,

Her hands, small as can be, reached up and tangled in her brown hair. And she began to tug, tug, tug. The way it tugged at her scalp hurt, but it was a habit that she struggled to break out of.

She's here, instead of me.

Her gaze fell onto the picture above the fireplace as she tugged on the locks of her hair. Two women that she couldn't really remember-- her Mother, and her Sister. Benitsuru knew that neither her brother nor her father would ever admit it, but they're both constantly grieving.

Maybe she should be grieving, too. Grieving for a mother who died saving her. Grieving for a sister who died for no reason.

It was hard to grieve people she didn't remember.

Maybe it would've been better for her to swap places with those two. They'd both be alive, and....

.

.

.

She was too young to think about that.

You know what's sad?

Hamato was an unplanned child, Kanata on as well since the Ando's couldn't ever expect such situations like her accident's to unfold, but Benitsuru?

Yukari wanted another child because hers were growing up so fast, and Hikaru agreed with her that they could have a third child even if they were in their 40s already.

She was the one child they planned and the one that, due to terrible circumstances, received the least care from both growing up.

So it's really no wonder why she lached onto Kokoro out of all people as a mother figure; Her dad was hardly at home, and with Yukari out of the picture, that was the one adult woman who gave her the time of day. The same one who helped diagnose her when her dad didn't had time to investigate her mental turmoil, the one that would gladly anwser all of her questions about mentall illnesses and other topics alike, the one that would let her stick around he work place and help her even if just a little.

It doesn't matter if she doesn't act like a mother or sees her as a daughter, it doesn't matter that their time together wasn't all that long due to her sentence. That was the closest thing she's ever had to a mother in her life (why do you think her glasses are so big and round? Her father's don't look like that.), so regardless, she will still care. She will still visit.

(This isn't to say Beni is like,, A Kokoro apologist or that she excuses her actions. As an adult she knows about everything she did and she by no means dismisses it or tries to excuse it in one way or another. It's disgusting, its monstruous, but that's still the woman that she had nothing but good memories with when she was little. I don't think Beni can just do a 180 and start hating someone she had such a good view off first and foremost + It helps that -2+2 Kokoro feels remorse for her actions and regained her empathy from her time in th Sdra2 killing game)

And since I'm turning this gift into Beni rambke central i might as well elaborate here why her views on Yukari and Kanata are so drastically different when both of them are people who died when se was too young to remember them.

With Kanata, she learned all about how kind and great of a person she was from the surviours, mainly Kizuna due to how close they were and how she wanted to get to know and help Kanata so family in any way she could after the killing game. She heard nothing but great things about her big sister, hence why the admiration. The same that led to her asking more about Kanata to Hamato and even Hikaru when he was around, and obviously the thing that led to her wanting to pursue a careers in the medical field as well. It's like their getting ever so slightly closer even if forever apart.

But Yukari? The only people who could tell her of her mother were her family. Hikaru is busy as always and talking about her hurts him the most, Hamato is a more willing, but other than telling her some basics and showing her a few things he liked, he was grieving too, he couldn't say much.

It is easier for them to talk about her now that it's been a long time, but as an adult it's not like Beni wants to hear about her much anymore.

[diamond-rozie]

Tim stepped cleanly inside the room, and carefully shut the door behind him after checking if anyone was in the hallway. “What are you-” Danny started confused. Tim was acting very unusually right now. 

“I’m Red Robin.” He said.

Danny stared at him for a few seconds. Tim had expected him to be more shocked, Danny wasn’t like Damian and Bruce in the aspect of holding back his reactions. He watched Danny carefully and noticed that he wasn’t even surprised at all. 

His shoulder shifted a little, and a look passed in his eyes. He was relieved. That didn’t make any sense unless, “You knew.”

It made an irrevocable amount of sense. The stupid excuses he didn’t question, the easy slide bys on things that didn’t add up. Tim had wondered why Danny never brought it up with any of them. He was always quick to call bullshit on things but conveniently never on their mission cover ups. 

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly, findling with the small screwdriver in his hand.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Tim asked. He felt a little ridiculous about it all now, “How long have you known?” Tim’s mind went back to the dining room argument from last night and he rolled through it in his head. “Wait, Jason knows you know, doesn’t he?” Tim blurted, “That why he- why didn’t I realize this sooner?” 

“I mean I know you guys can’t just tell whoever you want. It’s a secret identity for a reason. You guys didn’t want me to know. So I acted like I didn’t.” Danny shrugged. “I figured it out when Dick and Bruce were in Amity, and yeah, Jason knows. He also knows I’m Phantom. Cass knows too- not the Phantom thing. Or maybe she does, I don't know.”

“You knew the whole time?” Tim balked. All the effort they put in to hide the proof before he came, and he knew the whole time. Wait, did he say- “You’re Phantom?” Tim practically yelled. 

Danny blinked at him, “I thought you knew that.” He pointed the end of the screw driver at him, “Why were you guys so okay with him being in the cave then?” 

“We thought he was Thomas Jr.” Tim threw his hands up, rethinking his entire career choice. “I mean, yeah he was in Amity with you, but we figured it was like a guardian ghost thing since the time Dick met him that one time when you got lost or something he was the one- holy shit, you were following them the whole time weren’t you.” 

“You thought Thomas was Phantom?” Danny laughed, finding this ridiculous. 

“Isn’t that how supernatural stuff works or something. Like, you guys are linked because you were switched with each other and because you were with the family he was supposed to be with so he turned into a protective spirit to, like, watch over you or something.” 

Danny's look of appalment only deepened as Tim continued explaining. “Who told you that?” 

“I mean we just kinda figured it out ourselves based on past experiences.” 

“Past experience?” 

“With supernatural stuff the right conclusion is always the most unexpected and slightly irrational one.”

Danny snorted at that. “That is a really bad rule of thumb.” 

“Right, then explain how you’re the ghost Phantom when you’re also human and alive Danny.” Tim crossed his arms. He was trying really hard not to over analyze that right. Did that mean Danny was dead or that Phantom was alive? How could he be both? Well according to Schrödinger's theory- not now Tim. He should make a new file for this later and then he’d think about it. Alone. In his room where he could properly freak out over this. 

“Touche.” Danny clearly thought this was funny so no need to put a damper on the mood. Especially after everything that already happened. 

This information changed a lot of things. Tim would have to refer this back to the Fenton-Masters case. What about Damian? Did he know Danny was Phantom? Probably not, considering none of them had, apparently aside from Jason. It would be almost impossible for Tim to not tell him that since they were supposed to be working it together. Tim wasn’t sure how he would take the information. Not only that, but gave a new scope to the vultures that had attacked and the monster that had showed up from the pits. 

Later. File. Many lists. 

“Do you want to come to Mt. Justice?” Tim asked him. 

“Like the museum?”

“Yes and no. It’s also the Young Justice base. It’s top secret and no ones supposed to know about it.” 

“What! Then why are you telling me?” 

“Do you wanna go or not?” 

“Is that even allowed?”

“Definitely not.”

Danny raised a brow. “Then we can’t go?”

“It’s far but we can just take the jet. It’s like 30 minutes tops. We could take the zeta-tubes but then Bruce would find out you took the zeta-tubes and then we’d be fucked. Well, mostly me. But still.” 

“Wouldn’t he find out we took the jet then?”

“He wouldn’t know you were on the jet. It’s not weird for me to be going there since it is my team.”

“What if we get in trouble?”

“We’ll only get in trouble if we get found out.” Tim shrugged, “Do you want to go or not?”

Danny considered it for a moment before a grin tipped his face. “Yeah.”

“Sweet.” Tim reached for his phone only not realizing he didn’t have it. “I’ll let them know we’ll be coming around. They’re all already there. Tell Alfred you’ll be going out with some friends and then come meet me at Drake Manor.”

Danny seemed to embrace the situation now, forgoing his earlier hesitance. “I’ll wrap up some stuff. I should do breakfast too so Alfred doesn’t think anything is up. I’ll give you a heads up before I’m out the door. I’ll take my bike.” 

“Take the long way round since the Manor’s in the opposite direction of the city.” 

Danny nodded. “What about you?” he asked. 

“No one’s gonna ask if I go in costume.” Tim shrugged, “Speaking of costume…” Tim turned to where he knew the wardrobe to be, “Let me see your clothes.” He opened the double doors in the bathroom where the closest would be and blinked at the largely empty room. “Where are the rest of your clothes?” He asked. Danny looked confused by that, “Oh,” Tim realized, “You used a second closet. Smart. Is it in the lab?” 

 “No, Tim.” He said, pacing his words, “These are all my clothes.” 

“Oh. Why?”

“This is a normal amount of clothes to own.” 

“But it’s like barely covering a fourth of your closet. And that’s only because everything is so spread apart.” 

“That's because the closest is the size of a literal barn. Why on Earth would I need that many clothes?”

“I thought Bruce gave you an allowance?” 

“He did.” 

“Is it not enough?” 

Danny balked at him. “Did you ask to see my closet just to make fun of me?” He huffed. 

“I’m not making fun, I’m concerned.” Tim said genuinely. Did Danny not feel comfortable asking for things? It must be because they were keeping so many secrets and he thought they didn’t trust him. This clearly ran deeper than Tim originally thought. 

Danny shoved his hand in Tim’s face, pushing him back. “Can we get back to the point?”

“Right.”

--- later ---

“Give it back!” 

“No, I had it first!

“Nu-uh. I just put it down for like two seconds when you grabbed it.” 

“You were gone for the whole round.” 

“Where’s the controller you had before?” 

“It died.” 

“There's a bunch of other ones in the drawer.” 

“You can have one from there, then.” 

“No! I want the one I had back.” Tim insisted. 

“No.” Danny moved so he couldn’t reach it. 

“That controller is player 1, so give it back.” 

“Exactly why I’m not giving it back.” 

“Why would you be player 1?”

Danny looked so smug at that, “If you recall, I’m actually older than you which gives me sovereign right over player 1.” He said pushing Tim away. 

“That doesn’t even mean anything!” 

“Ah, to be young and naive.” 

“Fuck you.” Tim said, tackling him off the sofa. 

“What on God’s green Earth is going on here?” Cass asked, returning from their small intermission for snacks. 

Bart rushed up to join her. “Is Danny winning?” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No you're not! Give it back.” 

“Get off me.”

Kon was the last to come onto the site. “Guys.” He said seriously, “Superman’s coming. And there’s someone with him.”

Tim stopped trying to strangle Danny, sharing a look of panic with his team. 

“So?” Danny asked, confused.

“Danny, you're not supposed to be here.” Tim hissed at him. “Shit. How do we hide you from Superman?” 

“It was nice knowing you.” Kon said with a sarcastic smile. 

“How far is he?” Cassie asked. 

“He’ll be here in like two minutes.” 

“I’ll hide under the couch, he probably won’t look under there.” Danny offered. 

“He can hear your heartbeat.” 

Danny smiled widely. “I got it covered.” He said, pulling himself into the small space.

Bart giggled in excitement. 

“How-”

Kon gave a silent sign that Superman was here, sending a confused look towards the couch Danny had slid under. Tim’s phone buzzed with a notification. 

Just then, “Konner?” Clark called from the Mission Room. 

The team shared a silent look. They’d just have to trust Danny had this covered. 

“We’re in here.” Bart called even though Clark would already know that.

Tim put up two fingers to silently ask Kon if there was someone else with him. He received an affirmative. This was a horrible day for prospective teammate introductions. 

“Hey guys.” Clark smiled, then confused “Why are you sitting on the floor Red Robin?” He asked.

“I was checking something.” Tim said, picking up the controller Danny had been forced to abandon. 

“Oh, okay.” He nodded, not questioning it further. “I’m glad all of you are already here.”

“Are we getting a mission?” Cassie asked. 

“Sort of.” Clark said, excited. Then in Kryptonian, “ Come .” He said to someone behind him they couldn’t see. Tim couldn’t hear any footsteps. And he found out it was because the person Clark was introducing them to could fly. And Tim also found out that Clark had spoken in kryptonian because this new person was a kryptonian. One that Tim had never met before. “This is Kara. She’s my cousin. The entire situation isn’t all clear yet but as it stands we understand that her pod, while launched at the same time as mine, was caught in an asteroid belt and was only left free recently, when it landed near the Fortress of Solitude.” Clark turned to Kara and introduced them to her in Kryptonian and then added, “ Tim and Kon-el speak Kryptonian which is why I thought you would be more comfortable here instead of the Watch Tower. Though, Kon’s could use some work. ” He teased. 

“Hey, my Kryptonian is fine.” 

“Why don’t you try saying that in Kryptonian?” 

“ My fine is Kryptonian .” Kon said confidently. 

Clark laughed and Kara looked at Kon like he grew a second head. 

“I don’t even speak Kryptonian and I could tell that didn’t sound right.” Cassie laughed. 

Tim took his turn to introduce himself to the nervous and quite blonde. “ I’m Red Robin. ” He pointed to the symbol on his chest. “ It’s nice to meet you. ” He put out a hand for her to shake but Kara just stared at it. Maybe they don’t have hand shakes on Krypton. Since Clark had grown up on Earth he didn’t really know much about the customs of his home planet for them to have learned it beforehand. 

“ Nice to meet you. I am Kara Zor-el, daughter of Captain Zor-El and the Lady Alura. ” Then she stuck out her hand like Tim had. When Tim took it to shake Kara seemed surprised by it. 

“ You’ll be in good hands here, Kara. I’ll be back to check on you later but if you need anything Kon or any of the others can get a hold of me for you, okay ?” Clark said softly trying to gauge if she’d actually be okay here without him. 

Kara started at Clark for a moment like she was processing what he’d said, “ Why will anyone need to hold you? ” 

“Oh.” Clark pondered it, “ It’s an Earth phrase. It just means that they’ll send me a message or contact me if you feel like you want me to come back. ” 

Kara took another pause to process and then, “ I see. ” And does a hand gesture that Tim didn’t understand. And neither did Clark. No one commented on it. 

After Clark left the atmosphere of the room went stale. Danny was still under the couch and they weren’t sure how willing Kara would be to not tell Clark about it. But they couldn’t leave Kara. And Tim’s phone was buzzing with notifications that he did not want to check because he recognized the haptics of the health app he had. The one that had everyone, including Danny’s, vitals. Danny, who Tim was pretty sure had just stopped his heart for the entire duration of Clark being here. Which had been a very long duration.

Kara looked between them, confused. “ Is there something meant to be done? ” 

“ How’s your english, Kara?” Tim asked.

“ Only a little . Kal-El said it will take time .” 

“ Langage harding learn. ” Kon nodded. Kara lipped his words back to herself trying to make sense of it. 

“What do we do about our stowaway?” Cass whispered to Tim. She didn’t speak Kryptnoian, but she understood enough to know what Tim had asked. 

“I could dash him out. Maybe we could spend the day together at the mall and then we’ll be best friends and then he won’t want to hang with Tim anymore because he’d rather hang out with me because I’m so much more fun.” Bart said all in one breath, his words afterwards speeding up too fast for Tim to make any sense of. 

“She’ll know something’s up. We need to test her loyalty.” Tim strategized while Kon attempted to keep Kara in conversation. 

“How? And why haven't any of the supes been able to hear him yet?” Cassie asked. 

Bart took a pause on his earlier ramblings to make Tim’s life more difficult. “Oh it’s because he’s not breathing. Isn’t that so cool.” 

Cassie shot Tim an alarmed look. “He’s a meta.” Tim said off handedly, “Can we focus?” 

“Are you aware that your brother might be suffocating to death? In fact, we may need to hide a corpse and I sure as hell would love to hear how you're going to explain that away at family dinner.” 

“Oh, don’t worry Danny’s fine.” Bart said flippantly. “Danny, if you can hear us, make the room one degree colder.” 

Tim couldn’t feel anything but Kon and Kara did. Kara eyed the room confused about the change but fortunately she didn’t comment on it. 

“So cool.” Bart whistled, lapping the room. 

“Convinced yet?” Tim asked Cassie.

“He’s an ice meta how- you know what, I don’t want to know. So how are we going to test our warden?” 

The lounge room was decorated to look like a regular living room, including hanging “family pictures” on the wall. Everyone on the wall was in costume, for security reasons, but they were actual nice pictures of the team and their mentors. Tim pulled out a batarang from his pocket, and played around with it for a while, talking aloud about random things. It only needed to sound like a real sentence since Kara couldn’t understand what he was saying anyway. Then the batarang “slipped” out of his hand landing right in one of the larger framed pictures. The impact was loud and the glass of the frame shattered and spilled on the floor. 

Cassie didn’t have to fake her flinch in surprise at that, turning to Tim alarmed. Tim adding to the performance acted shocked. Kara and Kon obviously hadn’t missed the commotion and their conversation stopped. Kara looked at the destruction of the frame, analyzing Tim and Cassie’s reaction.  

“Dude.” Bart turned to him wide-eyed, stopping in his tracks, “We’re so dead.” Kara didn’t speak english, sure, but the dread in Bart’s voice was obvious enough. 

“Why did you do that?” Cassie scolded, “That was Red Tornado's favorite.” 

Tim held his head in his hands dramatically, then he let realization dawn on his features. Slowly he turned to face Kara. “ I’ll get in really big trouble if Kal-El or anyone finds out. I can hide it, but you won’t tell will you? ” He made himself sound really worried. 

“ Won’t it be noticed? The image is large .” Kara asked. She was beginning to share their concern on her face, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she would keep her mouth shut about it.

“ Clean up can. ” Kon said in a reassuring tone. Kara looked at him sideways, clearly confused. 

“ They don’t really come in here often so we can pass it off. But you can’t tell. ” Tim told her. 

Kara looked like she was having a hard time understanding him as well. An easier time than with Kon for obvious reasons but still not an easy time. Tim couldn’t understand why since he had made sure their Kryptonian was in perfect condition. “ Pass it off? ” She echoed, confused. 

Kara must not have understood the phrase.“ Pretend like it didn’t happen .” Tim explained. 

She thought about it and nodded. “ An Earth phrase? ” 

“ Yes. ” 

Kara didn’t answer right away and Tim wasn’t sure if it was because she was still deciphering what he’d said or if she was thinking about telling. “ I will not tell Kal-El or his associates since no one was hurt and it was only a minor incident .” Cassie and Bart had already cleaned up most of the mess why Tim talked to Kara. Tim had made sure to hit the frame so only the glass would be shattered and the actual picture was mostly unharmed except for the small tear in the corner. That would be easy enough to cover up. 

Kara's body language was stiff and she was watching everything very carefully. It wasn’t strange since she had been left with a group of strangers in a new environment and she didn’t speak the local language. She seemed around Tim’s age or maybe a little older. Kara was meant to land on Earth with a mission to watch and protect Clark. This implied that she was of a status and position to receive missions. This meant she would work by a set of rules and report to a supervisor. The supervisor was likely Clark who was most likely to take responsibility for her for a variety of reasons. 

Cassie gave Tim a raised eyebrow to ask how it was going as she walked away to dispose of the glass shards. 

It would be a gamble. A deadly one. But if Tim made it look like Danny being here wasn’t that big of a breach of the rules he could convince her to keep it to herself. He shared a look with Kon. 

“ I’m really thankful, Kara. ” Tim says, smiling. He pulls out his phone and texts Cassie and Bart their half of the plan. “ We can show you around the rest of the base. Would you like to do that? ”

“ Okay .” 

“ Room fun lounge after work. Play TV on games .” Kon said. 

Kara stared at him.

“How about I do the talking?” Tim put a hand on Kon’s shoulder. 

“Why? I’m doing so good.” Kon said genuinely. Tim doesn’t respond to that. 

The tour lasted minutes and Tim made sure to bide their time well so Cassie, Bart and Danny could be fully settled in before they returned. It would take a while for Danny’s heart rate to return to normal, and it would be better that he was all there before they tried to pull this off. 

Tim checked his phone when they were nearing the end of the tour. Cassie had texted him they were good on their end. 

“ Let’s go back to meet the others. They don’t speak Kryptonian but we can translate for you so don’t worry. ” Tim said. Kara seemed nice, it was the circumstances that were a bit stressful. But that didn’t mean they should let her feel left out.

“ This is your team ?” Kara asked, following Tim back to the lounge room.

“ Yes we do missions together sometimes. When we’re not working we spend time at the base because we’re friends. ” 

“ It is nice to have friends. ” Kara nodded. 

“ Did you do missions with your friends on Krypton? ” Tim asked. Maybe he could gauge what her position had been to see how she would react. 

“ Only practice. We did not graduate from training yet. ” 

“ Going what’s there ?” Kon asked. Tim had no idea what he was saying. 

“ What dialect does he speak? ” Kara asked Tim. “ I cannot understand it. ” 

 “ We learned the same Kryptonian, Kon just doesn’t practice. ” Tim laughed. Kon understood enough that he elbowed him. “ Are there dialects in Kryptonian? ” 

“ Many. You and Kal-El speak very… proper. ” She said sheepishly. “ No one speaks that way where I am from. Only in important meetings with outsiders .” Then she paused sadly, “ Mother always said it was important to learn but I did not listen. ” Tim had figured Kara spoke so rigidly because she was nervous or shy. This explained why she was having such a hard time understanding them. 

They reached the lounge to Cassie and Danny locked deeply in a game of rock, paper, scissors. Danny had pulled his hood back up and was wearing his cowl from earlier. He had picked one of the older models that covered most of his face until the end of his nose and past his cheekbones. Danny shot scissors at Cassie, beating her paper. Bart cheered loudly, throwing his hands in the air and Cassie groaned in defeat. Danny cackled as he took the last cookie. 

“Hey, D. When’d you get here?” Tim asked for the sole purpose of silently telling the others to not call Danny by his real name.

With a mouth full of cookie, “A while ago. Who’s this?” He asked, gesturing his head to Kara. 

Tim made wide gestures and spoke clearly in english so Kara could pick up what he was saying. It would be important for her to learn. “This is Kara, she’s Superboy’s cousin.”

“I thought she was his aunt?” Cassie asked. 

Danny didn’t look nervous, fortunately, and smiled easily at Kara. Then to Tim’s surprise, “ Nice to meet you. ” he said in perfect kryptonian. 

“ He speaks as well. ” Kara commented. 

“You can speak Kryptonian, too?” Kon asked. 

“Duh.” Bart answered. 

“Dead languages are my speciality.” Danny said pointedly. Bart giggled at that. 

“ Should we build a hole by playing a game? ” Danny asked, moving on the couch to give everyone else more room. 

“ Build a hole? ” Tim laughed, “What?”

Kara looked at Danny surprised, “ You know of that? ” She asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up. 

“It’s a phrase, basically like “break the ice’.” Danny answered, then for Bart and Cassie, “Do you guys know any games we can play?” 

“ You speak very well .” Kara complimented excitedly, leaving Tim’s side to talk to Danny. “ Did you also learn? ” Meaning is he a native speaker. 

“ Kind of? ” He laughed, “ You can speak more comfortably if you’d like. ” He gestures for her to sit.

Kara seems hesitant at first, but then she says something. It sounded Kryptonian but the accent was different to what Tim was used to and he could only make out some of it. To Kara’s delight and Tim’s further surprise Danny not only understood exactly what she’d said but even responded in the same way. 

It takes a while for them to settle on a game to play given all the language barriers. Kara spoke in what Tim learned was Standard Kryptonian but would often switch to her local dialect when she didn’t know how to say things. Kon and Tim could only understand Standard, and in all honesty, between them Tim was the only one who could speak it. Bart and Cassie couldn’t speak at all. 

They decided to play charades. It was awkward and hard at first, but they all got really into it by the third round. They kept the categories simple since Kara wouldn’t know any movies. Fortunately, she seemed to feel a lot more comfortable and talked a lot more, even if it was mostly just to Danny. There were times she would make an effort to say things in english. It was really broken but they all made sure to appreciate it and tried her best to understand. 

“I’m hungry guys.” Cassie said after her turn to act out her word, plopping herself in her spot between Bart and Kon. 

“Me too.” Bart agreed mournfully. 

“You’re always hungry.” 

“Should we order Pizza?” Tim asked, pulling out his phone. 

“I want pineapples on mine!” Bart said.

“Ew. No.” Cass kicked him. “I’ll have my usual.” She told Tim.

“Like mushrooms and olives are any better.” Kon snickered. 

“It’s better than pineapples.” 

Kara looked between them curiously. 

“Danny, ask Kara what she wants.” Tim instructed. 

After hearing them talk for the last hour Tim had finally been able to pick on some of the words but the grammar of it still eluded him. 

“ Everyone, something, something, food. ” Danny said.

Kara looked intrigued, “ What, something, eating, something. ” 

“ Something, something, like, something. ” He paused thoughtfully, making a circle in the air presumably to explain what a pizza was. “Something… ” Then, he pulled Tim’s phone to face them and pointed to the picture of a pizza on the website. “ This .”

Kara looked hesitant, “ ...Some…thing? ” 

Danny nodded encouragingly, “Something. Something, good.” He said. 

Glancing back at the picture, Tim could see on her face that she’d made a decision but she didn’t say anything. “Okay.” She said in english with a nod. “Have.”

“Great!” Finishing it up, “Kon, Bart.” Tim signaled. 

“Ugh. Why do we have to get it every time?” Kon complained, throwing a pillow at Tim. 

“I’m not going because I was the one that paid for it.” 

“I’m not going ‘casue I don’t want to.” Cassie said, kicking her foot onto the coffee table. 

“But you were the one who said you wanted food.” Kon complained, already standing up. 

“I could go.” Danny offered.

“You're funny. Absolutely not.” Tim shut down. 

Kara looked at Danny curious, “ Saying, something, what? ” 

“ Something, food, something, go. ” 

In english, “...Kitch...en?” She pointed in the direction of it and spoke in Standard Kryptonian, “ Is it not there? ” 

“ No. ” Tim shook his head, “ The store cooks it and we just have to give them money and take it from them .” He was careful not to throw in phrases she didn’t know.

Kara looked confused by the concept but accepted it. 

“Wait until she finds out about Drive-Thrus.” Danny joked to Tim. 

“I’m going to go check on the left-overs.” Cassie said heading to the kitchen.

Tim checked everyone's location on his phone. Danny’s was offline for obvious reasons, fortunately no one had freaked out about it yet. But he couldn’t be too sure. “I’m going to check on our smoke screen in the mission room.” Tim told Danny, “You’ll be okay here with her?” 

“What if we get abducted by non-friendly aliens in the five minutes you’ll be gone?” Danny’s tone was serious but his face was mischief. 

“I hope you do.” Tim scoffed, walking out.

---

“It’s just one slice, Red.” Danny tried to reach over his shoulder 

“No.” Tim blocked his food with his body, “You have your own.” 

“I just want to try!” 

“No! Eat yours.” 

“You let Kara have some!”

“That’s because I like Kara and I don’t like you.” 

“But yours looks so much more better than mine.” Danny whined, still reaching. 

“Lesson for next time then.” 

“C’mon, you’re not even going to finish it.”

Everyone watched them like a sitcom while they got to enjoy their food without meddling siblings. “I will. Just so you can’t have any.” Tim shoved as much of the slice in his mouth as he physically could. He was actually already full. 

“You're the worst.” Danny said, shoving Tim. 

“And you're worse.” Tim countered, pushing him back. 

Tim hadn’t pushed Danny very hard. Danny probably took harder hits during hockey practice. Tim had pushed him just hard enough that it forced Danny to take a step back to balance himself. Which was when he’d stepped on a wrapper Bart had left on the floor. Danny lost his balance and fell. But not before hitting his head hard on the metal fridge door behind him. 

Cassie gasped in shock. Kon and Bart rushed over to check on him. Kara watched wide-eyed, not sure what to do. 

Tim quickly stepped forward, “Hey, are you-” Next thing he knows there's a whole tube of ranch being squirted on his costume. His freshly washed costume. 

Danny watches Tim’s face morph from concern to absolute disgust with a deep satisfaction and cackles like the villain he is.

“You are such an asshole.” 

“Takes one to know one.” Danny’s on his feet and Tim chased him with a packet of garlic sauce that came with the pizza. 

Apparently feeling left out, Bart decided to dump his glass of juice all over Kon’s head. 

“Dude.” Kon shouts, but he’s quick to retaliate.

“Missed me.” Bart teases using the speed force to dodge. 

Cassie and Kara, the only civilized people here, sit and eat their pizzas at the island watching them. 

“They’re so dumb.” Cassie says to Kara, exasperated. 

Kara smiles following the action with her eyes. “ How fun .” She replies and they share a laugh even without understanding each other. 

snipbit from this fic

[cinnamonest]

Uhtceare

Yandere Ayato x Reader - "Failed escape attempt" series

(I still cannot publish posts that have people tagged. I don't know why, it just gives me an error popup saying it couldn't be processed. Apologies to those in my taglist.)

Warning: DARK CONTENT, noncon/dubcon, implications of forced/coerced marriage, masturbation voyeurism that’s also kinda forced, manipulative use of mental health and problematic way of addressing it, gaslighting and psychological manipulation, implied future forced drugging, there’s just a lot of my man being awful here

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“Ah, there you are.”

Of course. He would be right there at the entrance waiting, wouldn’t he.

You were hoping to get a few more seconds to put off the inevitable, but the reality of your situation was not so kind as to grant you that. It was all far too fast — the full events of the night before, the journey of being dragged back here — flanked on all sides by doushin all the while — all went by in a blur, leading up to this very dreaded moment.

You kept your gaze turned to the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact. Your fingers curled, digging into the fabric around your thighs.

Nonetheless, without even hesitating nor willing it, you found your feet moving on their own. Perhaps it was instinct, to get away from the unfamiliar men that made you so uncomfortable and uneasy, and into the arms that, despite everything, were at least familiar, and thereby a comfort at the end of your long trial of distress and misery. Maybe you knew it was expected, and feared some consequence for not acting as you knew you should. Or maybe some of both.

Regardless, your feet shuffled forward, any thoughts muted in favor of instinct as you bounded over towards your husband — as much as you hated to acknowledge it, your one source of comfort. As you grew close, he reached an arm out, hand firmly planting itself on your back and pulling you in. Perhaps out of that same sense of fear at the thought of disobeying expectations, perhaps out of pure exhaustion, you allowed it without struggle coming to stand directly by his side, grasping at his clothes, burying your head against him and squeezing your eyes shut as if it would obscure the others’ view of you.

“I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea how worried I was about her,” he spoke to the arrangement of men now standing a ways away, moving his hand on to rest atop your head. “I apologize for the inconvenience. The poor thing gets a bit irrational from time to time. You know how it is.”

The other men only gave a brief, curt sound of acknowledgement. One, the own standing closest to the two of you based on how close the voice sounded, seemed to deem it appropriate to give at least some response. “Of course, sir.”

Not that that actually made any sense, that such a bizarre thing to say could ever warrant an ‘of course’ as a reply. But they weren’t there to be sensible, to assess the situation and act according to any supposed principles. To help. They were there only to follow through with an assigned task, one that they had not even tried to conceal in their expressions and tones towards you was an unwanted inconvenience, and to turn a blind eye to any conclusions they might draw.

Maybe that too was intentional — the estate lord could have easily sent his private forces to be the ones to escort you back to the estate, yet he chose to allow the public law enforcement to return you. Perhaps he knew you’d grown to resent the family’s private forces, and thereby had no issue inconveniencing them, whereas he knew you’d feel more embarrassment and guilt having strangers be forced to bring you all the way back… yes, the more you thought about it, that certainly seemed like that was his intent.

“I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Ah, I see, that’s good to hear.”

Your hands balled into fists.

The whole show made of it all was utterly humiliating — that too no doubt the intention — but you had no choice but to stand there. Doing something rash like running off to hide yourself from the embarrassment would only meet a worse consequence later.

The burning, bitter anger only made said embarrassment that much worse. It was consuming, maddening. Everything — this place, these people, their words and their attitudes, their dismissal of you as if you were a child or an animal — it made you so damn mad, and yet, you could do nothing but endure.

Your eyes burned. You blinked a few times in rapid succession. You couldn’t forgive yourself if you actually cried in front of these strangers. The back-and-forth between the two parties continued, but you did your best to tune out the words, knowing that listening would only hurt you further.

It wasn’t until there was movement that you returned your attention to them, pulling your head away from him to look — now they were turning, walking away.

Leaving you alone with him.

You then dared not avert your eyes from the ground, watching the men from your peripheral vision as they made their way down the path, growing smaller and smaller and they moved further away, until their footsteps were no longer audible.

All that remained was a heavy, palpable tension.

Avoidance was the easiest path — a foolish choice, of course, which you knew full well. It wasn't as if you could avoid the present reality forever, but nonetheless, you found yourself clinging to each precious second that ticked by, body growing stiffer as you braced yourself for the inevitable. Perhaps you could trick yourself into believing that if you just kept your gaze turned to the ground, nothing would happen.

But sure enough, you clenched your jaw as his hand moved upwards, and came to rest on your shoulder.

“Come on now. You're certainly tired. Let’s get you to rest for a while.”

His voice only made your stomach twist further. It was calm and gentle, not explosive or infuriated. It would have felt more assuring that way, if your fear could just be easily confirmed, rather than a calculated calm that felt far more dreadful and foreboding than any rage.

His hand moved from your shoulder, coming down to grasp your wrist. It wasn’t a sudden, harsh motion, nor was the grip itself strong enough as to be painful — but it was noticeably firm.

And then, he pulled. A soft tug, pulling you in the direction of the doors.

Your resistance was not a conscious choice, not something you thought about nor had any time to do so; it was only a reflex. Instinctively, your body stiffened, your feet dug into the ground, and thus his pull was met not with the meek obedience that was expected of you, with footsteps that followed where you were guided, but instead a firm resistance.

Your own realization of that resistance, what you’d just done, sent a sharp rush of fear through your veins.

And thus, for the first time since arriving, your gaze tilted upward, and your wide, frightened eyes met his.

His expression shifted. The amiable, pleasant smile half-faded, still present, but only barely.

“…Don't be difficult. Come on.”

Likewise, his voice dropped far lower, a dark and foreboding tone far removed from the one he’d spoken with just moments ago to the other men.

Your mouth opened, instinctively wanting to reply, but you couldn't summon a coherent thought. You were afraid, you were angry, you were so, so embittered and ashamed and wanted nothing more than to run to your room, close your eyes and burrow into the bed.

And for a moment, you considered the compliant option. If you just lowered your head and followed along, apologized and insisted you were just being petty or immature or whatever he would call it this time, and took whatever consequence was handed out, then you could do just that, confine yourself to your bed and try to forget it all.

But the shame only fueled the fury, like gasoline to a fire. It was his fault. As scared of punishment as you were, your pride could not stand for simply bowing your head, and as your mind raced, the sheer fury you’d been stewing in all throughout the night before, all the angry words you’d monologued in your head and vowed to spew at him when you saw him again, all came rushing back.

You swallowed, fingers curling even harder around the fabric around your thighs. Now that it was just the two of you, although you still fought it as best as you could, you couldn’t help that your eyes watered, burning as your vision blurred out of pure frustration and misery.

“I… I know you did all of this on purpose! I only got all the way out there because you let me, a-and…”

The words came out in a trembling, wavering voice, far weaker than intended.

He exhaled a heavy sigh, closing his eyes in frustration. His voice was still characteristically gentle, but you could hear his patience waning. “We can discuss this inside.”

“But I—”

“Inside.”

You stiffened, freezing in place. That was not a tone you heard often in your married life, more firm than normal.

You swallowed, gaze darting to the ground again, unable to summon a reply and not wanting to make eye contact again. With another heavy exhale, he pulled at your arm with a gentle tug, and this time, you followed, feet quickly shuffling behind his.

You didn’t say a word, though, through the full minute or so of walking across the courtyard, through the front doors, down the hall, only dimly lit today due to curtains hanging over the windows lining the walls. It occurred to you with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you were headed straight for your shared bedroom, rather than one of the estate’s many drawing rooms and lounges, which meant the anticipated conversation to come would be one you’d both want kept in privacy. Your stomach felt as if it were turning in knots, your chest compressed by an unseen force, each breath feeling strenuous and weighted.

And then, finally, you both came to a halt as you reached the last room at the end of the hall. You felt helpless, unable to do anything as you watched the handle of the door turn, stumbling in as you were guided forward by the hand that came to gently press on your lower back.

Likewise, equally pitifully, you could do nothing but stand there and wait as you listened for the door to close behind you, clenching your jaw at the trepidation in your chest from the footsteps on the floor behind you, but made sure to not let your fear swallow your fury.

“Now,” he began slowly as he moved around you to the other side of the room, voice now back to its usual tone, but still firm nonetheless, “I can tell you have a great deal you want to get off your chest, but you’ll have to forgive me for a moment… your well-being is my primary concern.” He looked you up and down, and his voice took on a note of concern that admittedly sounded sincere. “You aren’t hurt in any way, are you, dear?”

You bit your lip at the affectionate term, and more importantly, at how unbothered he came across. Granted, you now knew just how much of the past twelve hours or so had been entirely within his control, so it made sense that he was never genuinely distressed, but admittedly, it was also disappointing. Part of you wanted him to have been panicked and worried, to get the satisfaction of knowing you’d successfully gotten under his skin.

Still, you shook your head, keeping your gaze to the ground as you gave a curt, frustrated reply. “No.”

“Good,” his eyes closed for a moment, taking a heavy breath of pause. “Well, in that case…” He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. “I believe this would be the best time to give you a moment to explain yourself.”

You couldn’t miss the obvious foreboding in his voice, nor the way it made your body stiffen.

But you had already prepared for that — you knew it would be intimidating, that it would be awkward and shameful, but you had spent the previous few hours trying to preemptively harden your resolve against that. Besides, after it was interrupted earlier, you now had the chance to get back to what was essentially the pre-written script you’d memorized in your head of exactly every little thing you wanted to say to him.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, the you that was standing there in front of him was significantly less brave than the ‘you’ in the scenes you’d played out in your head on the journey home.

Still, you clenched your hands into fists, thinking you had to at least force him to acknowledge the one point you’d deemed most important.

“You let me leave.”

In your mind, you’d spoken with a bold voice and looked him directly in the eye… and while the same words came out of your mouth, they were instead said with a weak, shrill attempt at an accusatory tone, pathetically looking to the wall as you found yourself unable to summon the gall to look up, once more lacking the firm accusation and self-assuredness your imaginative self had had.

He tilted his head. “That’s not a very accurate way to put it. I never granted you any such permission… I was simply aware of your intent to run off, and didn’t stop you.”

For a moment, you contemplated asking how he knew — but you had a feeling the answer would only make you more upset. His voice was laden with a faux sincerity, a sort of disingenuousness that made your blood boil, enough to embolden you further as you continued.

“And you… you had people following me the whole time, I know you did!” Your voice began to get louder as you grew bolder, bitter anger strengthening you against any trepidation. “They didn't even do a good job! I started noticing them towards the end of it!”

"Well, that would be because they were specifically told that concealment was not necessary.” He kept up the dry manner of speech, seemingly unbothered by your fury. “They deserve a break from high effort jobs every now and then, surely you understand. Besides, they didn’t directly interfere with your little outing, yes?”

He was so calm in contrast to your visible irritation, no doubt at least in part deliberate. It only served to make you even more mad.

“They told the local doushin to — no, you told them to tell them! There’s no other way that could have happened! I-I, I got," in sheer frustration, you jerked your fists in a sharp downward motion, "arrested!"

“I’m very well aware.”

“They put me in jail!”

“I do believe that is the standard process for an arrest, yes.”

“I was all by myself for hours!”

“Naturally. I couldn’t allow you to be placed with any dangerous persons, that’s why you were put in a solitary space.”

You clenched your fists so hard they trembled. “You, y-you let me get that far in the first place, and, and…” A lump formed in your throat again, which you did your best to suppress. “…Just to make me go through all that… I was there for hours before they came for me…” Your face scrunched up as you fought the urge to cry.

You hung your head, shoulders falling as you let your body relax, the fuse of anger burning out as it turned to a quiet bitterness swelling in your stomach. What was even the point? You knew better than to think your emotions would be given any weight, treated as anything beyond trivial.

A few moments of quiet passed, perhaps to see if you would say anything more, or perhaps just to force you to wait in uncomfortable uncertainty. After a moment, he shifted his posture slightly before unfolding one arm, holding out his hand in a standard gesture of speech.

“And what have we learned?”

You never would have thought one question could send such a spark of fury through your body in a single moment. Everything, from the wording to the timing to his tone, felt utterly mocking, infantilizing in a way that made you seethe.

You swallowed, practically trembling. “That you’ll go to any lengths to humiliate me?”

He returned the extended arm to its former position, exhaling heavily, straightening his stance. “It's rather unfair to assume I had such malicious intent. Stopping you early on in the past has clearly not worked in the long term, so further measures were necessary.” He tilted his head to meet your averted gaze, reflexively turning your attention back to him, eyes connecting with yours. “My only intention was that you would have some time to reflect on your series of decisions… and hopefully return with a change of heart. These episodes of yours are worrisome.” He gave a brief pause before finishing, “claiming I had cruel intent when you know in your heart that I only arranged this because I care for you… that's rather harsh, isn't it?”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to acknowledge the notion that the words were genuine. Admittedly having fallen for the words die a moment, you mentally shook off the momentary feeling of guilt.

These situations always went the same way, you'd be driven to apologize and feel bad about your choices. You had never met anyone else in your life with such a mastery of speech-craft as to be able to control your emotions and actions with words as easily as if it were pushing buttons on a machine. The first few times, you'd actually fallen for it, found yourself completely malleable, psyche bending and shifting to another's whims. At least with time, you'd become more resilient, had learned to notice and recognize the attempts… so you believed.

You opted to avoid answering the quesiton. Instead of acknowledging his own words, you turned to another matter that had come to mind during your escapade.

“Aren’t you abusing your authority? How are you even allowed to do this to begin with?!”

He took another deep breath, as if it were a trivial matter, or one that shouldn’t necessitate explanation.

“It’s… complicated, but the law does fully permit estates to employ local forces to locate any missing property belonging to the estate… people employed or bound to it are a sort of grey area in that regard.” After a moment of pause, he added, “besides, I also made it very clear that you were not in your right mind at the time, so your wellbeing was of immediate concern, and they were happy to help.”

“What?” The anger in your tone only rose. “I was perfectly in my right mind, you, you… a-and I’m not…”

A few moments passed as you trailed off, having to pause to collect yourself, blink away frustrated tears.

He opened his mouth as if to respond, but seemed to decide against whatever he'd considered saying, closing his eyes and taking a breath before finally replying in a more exasperated tone.

“You're making yourself upset needlessly. I can only do so much… in the end, I only wanted to keep you safe. You have to be the one to accept the grace you're given. Wouldn't that be easier for you?”

There was still unease to his tone, but the way he said it was nonetheless indicative of a sort of tiredness, as if not wanting to carry on about the matter anymore. It almost sounded like he was saying that you “accepting” his “grace” was all that was required to bury the matter entirely.

You spoke slowly, cautiously.

“You’re not… mad?”

“…I never said that.” He shifted away from leaning against the wall, standing upright. ”Of course, I can’t allow this to go entirely unacknowledged.”

He took a few steps towards you, and you fought the urge to step back, keeping your arms rigidly straight at your side as he continued.

“Normally, a proper form of consequence would be in order… however, after consideration, I realized that this was in large part my own fault, and I owe it to you to take responsibility for that.”

The words took you by surprise. The idea that he was in any way acknowledging that he had any responsibility for what you did was baffling, all things considered. He had never once even acknowledged that refusing to let you leave the estate was essentially holding you prisoner, and usually insisted that everything he did was what was best for you, even if, as he seemed to believe was the case, you did not understand that.

You hesitated before replying. “What… what do you mean?”

He flashed you an amiable smile. “A lesser person would only act on their momentary frustrations, but I’m not the sort of person who acts without understanding the situation. Luckily, I do understand you.” He looked off to the side, holding a hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, before adding in a quieter voice, “I made the mistake of getting too caught up in my work recently. Acting out over feelings of neglect is entirely different from misbehavior out of sheer petulance.”

He turned his head back towards you again before finishing,

“It would be cruel to respond to a cry for attention as if it were ordinary disobedience.”

The words took you aback, and you hesitated in your response, but as it fully registered in your mind, the momentary surprise was replaced with shameful fury. You held your arms firmly at your side, hands balled into fists as you replied.

“What?! I didn't— I didn’t do it for attention!”

You felt foolish for thinking for even a second that he might actually empathize with you, might finally come to enough humility to realize that much of your perceived disobedience was due to the sheer degree of meticulous, total control he held over everything you did. But no, instead, your attempt to run away was being treated as attention-seeking. It felt belittling, degrading.

He took a short breath, as if about to say something, but as his gaze fell upon you again, he simply exhaled, an amused smile forming on his face, replacing the former exasperation — and only infuriating you further, realizing even your anger wouldn't be taken seriously.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He made no effort to hide the dismissive amusement in his voice, either, but cleared his throat before returning to a more neutral tone before you could give any retort. “Regardless, you've been through a lot already. If you can be mature and calm down, make some acknowledgement of the trouble you’ve caused and show some remorse, then, I'm willing to somewhat overlook this.” Making direct contact between your eyes and his, he finished, “Won’t that be easier on us both?”

The obvious dismissal of your statement and implications of what he thought made your face feel hot. The embarrassment that had already been weighing down on you now became suffocating, and the utter arrogance of the presumption of your willingness to comply made you so upset it felt nauseating.

“What does ‘somewhat’ mean?” You tried to suppress the irritation in your voice.

He gave another heavy sigh. “Should you really be asking for specifics? It’s your best course of action regardless.”

You opened your mouth and inhaled as if to speak, holding your closed fists up to your chest, ready to spew every ounce of vitriol you’d been building up, and then, you fell silent as your eyes met.

His expression grew dark, eyes half-lidded and features blank — not contorted with anger nor curiosity, but merely waiting, watching, warning. Anticipating your defiance, prepared to react accordingly.

You looked down, hesitating.

Was it really worth it���? A few moments of lashing out, at what cost? ‘Consequences’ hurt, in one sense or another, they always did, no matter what form that word took.

You swallowed. He was right — one path before you was wiser.

You hung your head.

“…I’m sorry…”

Even with your gaze turned downward, you could see his eyes widen just a bit in your peripheral vision, not having expected such quick compliance — understandably so, based on your past incidents. But after a moment, his expression softened. He took another step, closing the gap between you, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to lift your head back up.

“Mm. I’m glad you understand. You know, you've matured quite a bit recently.”

You almost, almost found yourself feeling happy at the praise, but then pushed that feeling away. It was part of the way he did things, part of the process, so you'd slowly come to recognize, putting the pieces together over and over until you became aware of how he managed to bring you down to submission each time. You refused to be swayed by that. You were only giving it up and apologizing because it was the was the easier, less painful choice… so you reminded yourself. Now, at least, you'd be done with this, could move on and quietly begin plotting again.

But then, as you felt his hand move down to your shoulder, then to your waist, you remembered the ‘somewhat.’

Yes, of course it couldn’t be left at that, wouldn’t be so simple as forcing you into humility just once.

You knew that full well. These checks of obedience after an act of disobedience never came solitary, and the desire for that subservience to be affirmed was not easily satiated. It would only grow deeper, an increasing hunger for your subservience. Pushing your pride further and further down, carving into your personhood and whittling away anything deemed unfitting. It would only go further, debasing you in increasingly violating ways.

You felt a gnawing in your stomach. You hadn’t thought of that part, in the moment, but the realization now made your heartrate begin to accelerate once more.

His eyes drifted downward.

“…Ah, right. The clothes you’re wearing, we need to have a servant wash them for you. Just set them by the door for now.”

You looked down. You hadn’t even bothered to think about it until now, having been so preoccupied with other thoughts, but indeed, the oh-so-nice and expensive clothing you’d been so lovingly lavished with, was now fully coated in grime and dirt.

At the same time, your immediate instinct was to protest the idea, knowing the intent. He wasn’t going to get you a replacement — which he himself would need to do, seeing as all of your clothing was, no doubt deliberately, kept outside the bedroom itself, and it had been established early on that you were to rely on him or servants to fetch whatever he would have you wear that day for you. Was the command too, then, intentional?

The very moment you even asked yourself the question, though, came the immediate answer, making you feel foolish for even questioning it. Of course it was intentional, planned — what wasn’t, anymore, in your life? You remembered looking back, on the day you were brought here, thinking over the past with borderline horror at the realization of how intricately detailed and precise every detail had been in his effort — what you now were certain was a premeditated plan — to get your family to call off the years-long betrothal you’d already been in, and marry you off to him instead. That realization of it all had kept you rightfully afraid of him, knowing he was always one step ahead of whatever you might attempt.

The corners of your mouth pulled taut with embarrassment, and you pulled your hands in towards your chest again, elbows pressed firmly to your sides. “That’s…”

He caught a glimpse of your face, and in turn smiled, an amused sort of expression. “Come on now,” he took a step towards you, reaching out and grasping at your hands, pulling them out of their defensive position, “even now, you’re still so shy over this?”

“I— no, I’m not—” you cut off, teeth clacking together as you snapped your mouth shut when his hands released yours, instead moving around to the binding ties of your outfit, pulling the knot apart.

You held your hands up to the level of your shoulders, bent at the elbow, fingers curled as if preparing to reach forward, to grasp at his hands, to do something.

But you didn’t.

The exchange was itself a means of conversation, communicating something not fully articulable by word alone. Violating your comfort and dignity, baring you to him, those things themselves were an assertion, a statement. To interrupt would be to challenge that assertion, to deny him. And perhaps it was, in part, also a test, a question of whether or not you would dare to deny the unspoken statement.

As the silk strands came undone, the first layer gave way to the second, and pulling apart that knot caused the fabric bound by it to slide apart, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

An unspoken reminder that your body was not your own, that any right to autonomy and privacy you might have beyond this room, no longer existed within it. Access to you was not a privilege granted by your permission, but an inherent right, provided by the very contract that legally bound you to him.

The casual, unhesitating manner with which you were stripped down only emphasized that that very reality itself was not something to be regarded as of any great significance, but a fact accepted as readily as any other. Exposing you, touching you, exercising that unconditional access to your body was given no greater thought than utilizing any of one’s possessions.

There was nothing he could ever say to you, nor adequate words to even exist, to fully encapsulate the degree to which you were owned — but with that gesture, you understood all the same.

And even though the humiliation of the reminder made your eyes burn, made you bite your lip, you lowered your hands to your side. An admission of defeat, surrender.

It did not go unnoticed. He smiled.

“Very good. You’re behaving much better today than I anticipated.”

Another moment of praise. He was genuinely pleased. You could see it and hear it through his face and voice.

Were it on any other matter, you might have felt proud to be praised in such a sweet, charming voice. If the praise were on something you actually wanted to achieve.

And then, his eyes trailed downward, running over your body, taking in each detail. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze settled on one particular spot.

“You really shouldn't lie to me,” he spoke in a quiet, low voice.

At first, you felt a momentary panic, not quite sure what he even meant, thinking you had somehow made a unintentional transgression. It wasn't until you looked down that you saw the scrape just below your collarbones from your, admittedly unsightly, vigorous resistance upon initial confrontation with the doushin the night prior, having essentially had to have been wrestled down to the concrete street. In hindsight, you were even surprised with yourself for putting up such a fight, but at the time it had just been the instinctive reflex, fueled by desperation.

It all felt distant now, as if further back in time than it was, the memory all blurring together. It was only a very small mark, and had now scabbed up as part of the natural healing process, but as his fingers brushed over the spot, you still tensed at the slight lingering sting.

“It doesn't really hurt,” you replied nonetheless. “It's fine…”

He only straightened back upright, closing his eyes momentarily.

“I suppose I shouldn't have expected common doushin to be able to follow instructions… just so you know, I did specifically say to ensure you weren't hurt in any way.” He turned his gaze downward, hand held to his chin as he added in a low mutter, “I'll be sure to only use private hands in the future, should I need something like this again.”

You shrugged, turning your eyes downward to the floor once more. Really, you wanted to not have to think about the incident any further, the mere memory stirring up embarrassment, which did not combine well with your already vulnerable state. “It's fine. It's not a big deal,” you grumbled. After a moment of hesitation, feeling another urge of spite, you added, “it wouldn't have happened if you didn't… do all that.”

He huffed in exasperation, but was quiet for the moment, seemingly composing his thoughts before replying.

“Don’t be disagreeable. We've discussed this. I care for you dearly, but that does not mean that you are exempt from expectations to behave.”

He always gave you that line — that a behavioral matter of yours had been previously ‘discussed,’ which merely meant he'd told you not to do something, or behave a certain way. That was the end-all-be-all — whatever you were told was set in stone the moment it left his mouth, and transgressing against the standard that was set was often treated as if you’d forgotten, as if it slipped your mind, the idea of intentional and deliberate disobedience being something unthinkable to such a degree that simply having done so by accident were more believable to him — and perhaps you ought be grateful for that.

You clamped your jaw shut, turning your head downward.

His gaze turned back to your body.

“…Your nerves are unsettled.” His hand slid it's way down your side, the feeling of touch lingering in a trail behind as his palm brushed over the curvature of your waist. “See, that's what causes these irrational episodes of yours. Stress, overexcitement. It just… builds naturally for you, over time.” After a moment, taking in your expression, he added, “it's nothing to feel bad about, dear. I don't mind helping you with it at all… I'm glad I can do so, really. I worry about how you'd manage without having me to help.”

You hesitated before giving a response. “What… what do you mean? I'm not… irrational…”

It was as if your words went in one ear and out the other, continuing on without responding to your objection. “But again, I failed to keep it in check this time, so this was ultimately my own fault… I'll have to make a note to be more thorough.”

His hand grasped at your waist, pulling you close. His other hand reached up, cupping your breast. He looked over towards your shared bed.

“Come on. Let's get you in bed.”

“Huh? But—”

His grip tightened. “Don't be difficult.”

Your stomach began to churn. You were still angry. The last thing you wanted was to go through what was essentially a humiliation ritual. There was something about the act itself — at least, between the two of you — that made you feel embarrassed and ashamed. The inherent vulnerability, for one, but moreover, because you knew the intent, you knew the way he viewed it in his mind, could practically feel the sentiment. An act of claiming, an exchange of power in which your loss of dignity became his gain of pride and control. Carving into your very personhood, marking you as something belonging to him.

Your opened your mouth, but whatever you intended to say was cut off by your small noise of surprise as you were pulled forward, in a manner that was somehow so gentle in touch, yet forceful enough to move your whole body towards his. His arm wrapped around your frame, the other positioning itself underneath your thighs before lifting you up and moving down to sit.

You fidgeted, tried to pull away — but his grip tightened, as much to secure you as it was a warning, telling you to hold still.

“It's for your sake. This will help you… you may not realize that yet, but you’ll thank me, I promise.”

His hands moved to your hips and turned you so that your back rested against his chest.

“As I was saying, you simply… build stress and neurosis, naturally. It's not your fault, really. You're just sensitive to changes, stressors... Every individual has at least some… defects in their nature.”

His hands retracted, and there was a brief rustling sound before they returned to your skin, now ungloved, flesh on flesh. The contact sent sparks through your nerves.

“That's why people pair with those they are compatible with. They fill each other's needs, compliment each other’s natures… I’m obligated to take those defects and resolve them.”

He gave you a smile — you couldn't see it, but could feel it as his lips pressed softly against your neck. Warm, full of sincerity and adoration.

“I wouldn’t do that if it weren’t out of care… and you in turn provide me with something that needs care and guidance. I enjoy having that.”

For all his attempts at soothing words and the gentleness of the touch, you knew in your heart that there was no doubt that that was part of the intent — to humble you, to tame you and make you docile, to make you submit. Forcing you to such a vulnerable state and inflicting reactions of pleasure was itself an act of exerting power and control.

It was, in a way, remarkable, that the human spirit could not only be broken by both brutal cruelty, but equally — or, perhaps even more effectively — eroded away with a gentle voice and touch, humiliation so deeply intertwined with affection that they became impossible to distinguish from each other, forming a unique sentiment that was both one and the other.

You were endearing to him, but that affection for you was like a venom that ran through your veins — an affection that diminished you, reduced you to some inhuman possession, a toy to be manipulated in any way he desired.

It made you feel sick. It made you feel angry, it tormented your psyche—

Your thoughts were turned to a haze as his fingers rolled your nipple between them. You inhaled a sharp gasp, back arching forward.

Processing your own reaction, embarrassment took place of the momentary pleasure, and your face felt hot. You reached an arm up instinctively to cover your breasts, pulling away from the touch.

“…We've had this conversation before, haven't we?” He reached up, grasping your jaw with a grip just firm enough to communicate a warning.

You swallowed and, albeit not without just a moment of hesitation, lowered your arm. You looked down, breasts now exposed fully. “I'm… sorry…”

He gave you a hum of approval, returning to the former fondling, fingers playing with the sensitive flesh. You bit your lip, breathing growing labored.

After a few minutes, his hands wandered downward, slowly, softly, down to your thighs, then back up over your hips, where they finally settled.

“Touch yourself.”

The command caught you off-guard. Your eyes widened. “…What?”

“Before I help you,” he murmured, “I want to see what you will do for me. That's only fair, don't you think?” He squeezed at your waist.

“Prove to me…” he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear, “that you know your place. Do as I say.”

You swallowed.

It was in your best interest to obey.

You reached down slowly, shivering as your fingers brushed over your clit. You pressed down, beginning to rub your outstretched fingers back and forth. With your other hand, you reached up, tweaking your nipple just enough to send pleasure through your nerves.

“There you go.” He pulled you a bit closer to him, so your bodies were firmly pressed together. He craned his neck, no doubt catching your abashed, embarrassed expression.

Not that he would give you any words of comfort on that matter, tell you not to feel embarrassed. He only smiled, grasping your hair and forcing your head to turn, pressing your mouth to his. It was only a short contact, parting with the softest of sounds.

His grip on your hip tightened, and you realized why he’d pulled back when he spoke.

“Don’t stop.”

You hadn’t realized you had, too focused on the slight surprise to being kissed. You took a shuddering breath, and resumed the motion. Your eyes closed, heightening your senses — the sensation of each touch and the shockwaves it sent through your core to every nerve in your body.

Your breathing quickly became labored. Even if you were inducing the sensation itself, it was good. You bit your lip as a soft, weak little sound came out of your throat, unable to refrain from vocalizing at the intensity of the feeling.

“Not just like that.” One of his hands reached down to your thigh, hand wrapping around the underside of it and pulling it to the side, spreading you open further. “Go on.”

“Mm…” You couldn’t summon any particular words, overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations — the heat to your face and knot in your stomach at the shameless way your body was so exposed, at the feeling of being watched as if the act were a performance, and the haze of arousal that rapidly began to cloud your judgement, obscuring the feeling of discomfiture, drowning your inhibition.

Even without the pleasure compromising your hesitation, you didn’t want to think about the alternatives if you refused to obey — this was thus far, comparatively, far from the worst consequences you’d ever received for acting out.

You reached down further, pushing two of your fingers past the slick coating your flesh and inside your body, curling them into the spot that made you tense, made your muscles spasm, over and over, each movement sparking a rush that surged throughout your body.

Each breath was a deep gasp. Your toes curled, your muscles went taut and your insides clenched around your own fingers.

But something was missing.

It was pleasurable, but there just wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. The sensations were too weak.

Your body had been conditioned something more, and this was not comparable.

Sweat began to accumulate on your skin as you kept curling your fingers, desperately chasing a high. His arm moved from your hip to wrap around your waist, pressing another kiss to your neck.

You tried. Frustration began to build. Your eyes watered as you curled your fingers as hard as you could, pressed as far in as they would go, down to the knuckle.

It wasn’t deep enough.

It wasn't what you were used to. Your fingers were too short, just short of reaching that one perfect spot that made you lose yourself in pleasure, melting to a mewling mess.

You shuddered. You couldn’t reach a climax, no matter how hard you tried to focus. Even without orgasm, though, your exertion reached a peak you couldn’t carry on further from, and your fingers stopped moving as you went limp, trying to catch your breath, frustration and desperation nearly enough to make you cry. Your head fell back, eyes closed as you panted.

You could feel the corners of his mouth upturn against the flesh of your neck.

“…Is something wrong?”

Your jaw clenched, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

That was the other goal of it, besides proving yourself to him — it was also to prove something to you. Something you didn’t want to admit out loud, something that made your chest swell with bitterness just to admit to yourself, much more so to do so aloud.

“I can’t… I can't do it.”

“Mm.” He pulled you further back against him. “Then, what do you need?”

The tingling sensation, the desperate need, the remnant frustration of lost pleasure, was too much to bear. You swallowed your pride, closing your eyes as you forced the words out.

“…I need you to do it…”

You were expecting him to say something in return, but for a moment, he was only quiet. He began to drum his fingers back and forth against your waist.

“Is that so?”

You nodded again, which seemed to be to his displeasure—

“Use your words.”

“Yes…” You swallowed.

You waited, but no touch came.

“Hm. How odd.” His voice was low and quiet, but unmistakably derisive. “You seemed to think you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself, running off like you did.”

Your eyes welled with tears. You shook your head back and forth, unable to bring yourself to speak.

“No?” His hand trailed downward until it ghosted over your sex, the lightest of touches, borderline torment. “Then, you can't do this for yourself?”

“…No…”

He moved his face even closer, speaking directly into your ear.

“Then what do you say? Tell me exactly what you need. Show me.”

You swallowed. The burning of humiliation in your chest was almost too much to bear. Had your insides not still been alight with the wavering, tight feeling of need, your pride would have outweighed your desire. But in that moment, it did not.

You spread your still-quivering legs wide apart.

“…Please touch me.”

“Mm. And what do you want from that? For how long?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I want to cum.”

Finally — finally — his fingers pressed down against your clit, enough pressure to send waves of pleasure up your spine.

“There, see…” He pressed another kiss to your face. “Aren't things so much easier when you just choose to be honest?”

You nodded. “Yes. I… I’m sorry…”

He gave a low hum of acknowledgement. “This stubbornness is just your nature.” His fingers slid back and forth, gracing the bundle of nerves with friction. “But that can be fixed.”

You bit your lip. “I… I’m not— ah—”

One motion of his hand was particularly firm, the sensation it sent through your nerves so intense it was almost painful. Your hands shot forward, grasping at his wrist.

It was only when the motion stopped that you realized you’d erred — it was a habit of reflexively grabbing at his hands when a sensation was too intense, trying to pry them off — something he very much did not like you doing.

Sure enough, he sighed, frustration blatantly evident. You jerked your hands away, but it was already too late to take back the first offense.

“…Now,” he started, “Can you refrain from doing that again, or do I need to bind them?”

“I…” you paused, realizing you genuinely needed to think it through. You weren’t certain if you could abstain.

You felt him shift back, leaning away from your body.

“Well, that’s enough of an answer itself.”

You heard the rustling of clothes, felt movement behind you, and you turned your head over your shoulder just in time to see as he pulled off first the top layer, then the undershirt over his head and off his body. You made a soft sound as he then pushed down on your back with a firm touch, forcing you to lean forward, grasping at your hands and pulling them behind your back — firmly, enough to be a clear message to not try to dissuade him, but your pride, weak as it was, still couldn't let it happen with no objection at all.

“Wait, wait, I can do it, I don't need—”

“This is for your sake. Hold still.”

“But I—”

“Be still.” He spoke firmly, but softened his voice as he continued, “It’s not your fault for having that reflex… but you have to train yourself against it. You want to be good, don't you?”

You shut your mouth, nodding as you sounded an answer. “Mm-hm…”

Cloth wrapped tightly around your wrists, using one sleeve to bind them together. Not enough of a bind that you couldn’t break out with some effort, but just enough to keep you from reflexively trying to interfere.

“Now where were we…”

You were pulled back once more, perhaps even closer. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

And his hand quickly moved back down, and the bliss of shockwaves of pleasures overcame you once more. You whimpered, biting your lip.

His fingers pressed more firmly, rubbing circles into the nub, and for a moment, your wrists jerked against the bind as the reflex kicked in. It was too much at once, but now, you were prevented from doing anything about it. As he began to rub in circular motions, your body shuddered, and an involuntary moan came out of your throat — a wanton, shameful sound, laced with pleasure and lust.

“There you go.” You could feel him speak, shuddering at the vibration of his chest against your back and the warm breath against your ear. His other hand rolled your nipple between a finger and thumb. “Give into it.”

Your body trembled against his touch, and jolted as his own fingers pressed inside of you. His were longer, and the touches firmer, and the result was a degree of pleasure you were simply incapable of replicating on your own.

As much as you hated it — hated to think it, hated to acknowledge it, hated to try and not acknowledge it as the reality prodded at the back of your mind — he made you feel better than anything you had ever experienced, better than anything you could ever make yourself feel.

You whimpered, toes and fingers curling. Your hips moved, a rolling motion to meet each pressing movement.

A singular motion, and singular sound, both of which you near-immediately caught yourself doing, having been too lost in the feeling to think clearly. You cut off your voice and went still, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t.” He didn’t stop moving his fingers as he spoke, instead pressing down with harsh force, essentially pulling you back closer to him with the hand partially inside you. “Holding yourself back like that is another form of dishonesty.”

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, but unable to form a response before he continued.

“And you wouldn’t want,” the fingers that had been gently tweaking at your breast pinched down hard, a momentary spark of pain and the lowering of his voice making you go tense, “to make this unpleasant because you couldn’t be good for me, would you?”

You shook your head back and forth with vigor. There were many punishments in your domestic repertoire that were unpleasant, and the thought of any of them made your heart skip a beat. “No, no, I don’t… want that…”

“Then you’re going to be honest, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I promise…”

“Mm.”

He kept rubbing his thumb against your clit, even in perfectly synched timing to each motion his fingers curled inward inside of you.

It was so pleasurable, so intense, it made you angry. Mad that he was capable of it, mad that his control over your body was greater than your own, and most of all, mad that he did it with such ease, effortless, that making you come undone entirely was something he mastered without ever being taught.

That pleasure began to build and build. You squirmed and whimpered, muscles throughout your body tensing and relaxing over and over. Your hips rolled into his hand. Each movement built the pressure in your body higher and higher, rapidly reaching a peak.

The edge that climax made you quiver, body and legs trembling.

“There it is…” his voice was so soft and gentle, soothing in a way it had no right to be.

The noise that came out of your mouth was nearly animal-like, a whimpering cry as you threw your head back, quivering and spasming. The waves of sensation pulsated throughout your body, reaching a peak and then beginning to ebb away.

You went limp, bodyweight falling back against his chest, heaving with heavy breaths. Your head felt as if it were spinning, and you stared forward in a dull stupor, body trembling with aftershock.

You twitched at the feeling of his fingers sliding out of you, with a wet squelching sound that made you shiver.

“Look at that…”

He spread his fingers apart, clear fluid forming a trail between them. You bit your lip, tilting your head downward in a futile attempt of avoidance of what you knew well came next — but that effort was quickly negated as he grabbed your jaw, turning your head back up and squeezing your face.

“Open.”

The force of the grip as he squeezed down more or less forced your jaw apart anyway. You didn't even get to take a breath before he pushed his fingers into your mouth, salty taste spreading over your tongue.

“Clean them off.”

Maybe it was a way of forcing you to acknowledge your own bodily reaction, even if you tried to deny it to yourself. Maybe it was much simpler than that — just another way to degrade you, or something simply arousing for him because it just was.

You complied nonetheless. Your tongue swirled around each finger, sucking and swallowing the taste of yourself. Even as he pulled his fingers back out, a string of saliva connected them to your tongue.

And then, after wiping his fingers off on the fabric around his thigh, he returned the arm to your waist, pulling you close, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“See… so much more at ease now, aren't you?”

That was one way to put it. You couldn't even bring words to your mind. Even processing what he said felt like a significant effort. Everything felt far away, your mind like a blank slate, numb and empty. Your body was even more exhausted, totally lax aside from involuntary twitches.

You made a soft sound as he turned your body to the side, just enough to look you face-to-face. Looking down at your watery eyes as they met his, the stupor in your expression, even as your brain began to clear, as if a machine turning back on after a few moments of darkness.

And he smiled. It was soft, full of endearment. And belittling. It was not made any better by the small chuckle he gave, patting the top of your head.

It burned in your chest, down into your stomach.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your lower lip quivered, an admittedly petulant pout. Shame formed a knot in your stomach. Disappointment in yourself, ending up like this again after swearing so many times over that this one would be the last, the last time you'd come apart so easily, the last time you'd find yourself spent and susceptible to the touch that seemed as if it were designed for your body.

And he laughed. An amused chuckle, patting your head.

“Mm. I had a feeling that wouldn't be quite enough.”

He leaned in, firmly grasping at your arms as you tried to squirm, bringing his mouth so close to yours, forehead resting against yours.

“But, that does admittedly work out for my sake.”

You grunted in surprise as he hooked his arm under your legs again, this time only lifting you just enough to set you down onto the padding of your bed, gently pushing on your shoulders until you were flat on your back, arched over your hands bound behind you.

“A-ah, I…” You swallowed, grasping at the sheets to the best of your ability. It was nothing you weren't anticipating, but the vulnerability made you tense.

It didn't help that he paused any motion, eyes trailing over your body, before reaching down and running his hands over your flesh, one moving to grip at your waist, the other your opposite hip. You couldn’t reach to cover yourself, forced to lay bare and vulnerable. Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, but firm hands grabbed at the undersides, pushing them apart and positioning himself between them so you couldn’t close them again.

The former act was not enough. Putting you through the ordeal of being made to wait in jail like a child in time-out was not enough, exposing your body was not enough, toying with your body and forcing an acknowledgement of his own control was not enough.

Your lip trembled.

But anger still pervaded through your negative emotions. It compelled your courage, you felt defiance surging up. You had to look him in the eye, tell him exactly what you felt, tell him you knew what he was doing and push him off, then, maybe then you'd have the satisfaction of some sense of control.

You could do it. You had to.

“You… you're just doing the same thing as before!” Your eyebrows furrowed. “You’re trying to, to—”

“Again with this?” He tilted his head. “I really wish you wouldn’t assume such ill intent. This is how people love each other… you know that.”

You bit your lip. You almost, for just a second, fell for it, almost felt guilty. You shook your head forcefully, clearing your mind of the thought.

“No, I won't let you—”

And with that, there was a rapid shift in expression. His eyes narrowed in a piercing, foreboding look. You went silent.

Your shoulders stiffened. The words came out on impulse, resolve of defiance broken as quickly as it had formed. “I'm— I'm sorry—”

Dammit.

For once, the dark expression did not shift back to pleasant as soon as you apologized — an indicator of having gone too far. His hand slowly reached up, this time not in a loving caress or gentle-but-firm grip, but outright harsh grip on your jaw.

“You…”

He tilted his head forward to more directly look you in the eye. His voice was low and cold, making your heart race further.

“Do not ‘let’ anyone do anything.”

His fingertips pressed into your flesh, squeezing your face between them.

“I know you understand your place. Don’t behave as if you don’t.” Finally, his voice softened as he finished, “I can’t help you if you keep fighting me every step of the way. So… you’ll control yourself, won’t you?”

You swallowed, nodding your head, twitching as the motion made his fingernails dig into your cheeks.

“You know I don’t like being so harsh with you, don’t you?”

You nodded again.

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Only for a short, chaste moment, but a slow, sensual motion nonetheless. You closed your eyes, tuning out the rustling clothes, heavily breathing with anticipation.

“You’ll have to forgive me for this. This whole ordeal has been stressful for me as well.”

You didn’t get time to ask what he meant — he rammed himself into you all at once, completely stuffing your body in one rough, forceful motion.

You cried out, back arching and body stiffening. You felt your insides clamp down, pulsating against the intrusion.

His hands tightened their grip on your waist, holding you still as the momentary sting ebbed away.

“There you go… calm down.”

You felt him slide out, then push back in, the latter movement sending sparks of sensation running up your spine, causing you to go tense all over again.

Your breathing became ragged, legs twitching and spasming at the sensation. You tried, without thinking, to snap them shut, but it only resulted in effectively squeezing his waist with you thighs.

The intensity of the sensation naturally induced a reflex of strain and exertion to your muscles, a need to channel the feeling through your body, causing your toes to curl, your thighs clamping down harder, quivering at the bare touch of flesh to flesh. You closed your eyes, but couldn't drown out the sound of skin making contact to yours, the sound itself increasingly accompanied by a wet squelching as skin met fluid with each passing second, leaking out of your body.

“You're so much more honest like this.” You could hear just the slightest strain in his voice, otherwise so very composed to perfection. “So meek… it's lovely. Once that resistance in you is fixed… you'll be perfect.”

You could see the corners of his mouth upturn into a look of amusement.

“You should see yourself.”

Your body stiffened, but all you could do was whimper. The words felt like a cold knife to the stomach — and you knew he knew that. Knew that that moment was you at your must vulnerable, the peak of awareness of your own helplessness, the moment you felt the most degraded, and yet, it still wasn't enough.

He leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, so close you could feel the warmth as he spoke, never ceasing to move all the while.

“Whimpering and drooling like that,” he murmured. “You're trembling… and that expression on your face is so adorable. Like you can't even think straight.” He leaned back up, enough to look you in the eye — now welling with tears.

And again, he only smiled.

“How precious.”

His hands ran down your body, grabbed at your hips, and began to pull you, jerking your body back and forth to meet his own movements.

It was too much. Even with the knot of emotion in your stomach, you felt a hot, tingling pressure build in your body. Your legs quivered, the wanton little sounds from your throat higher and higher.

You didn't want that. It was the final part of this ritual that so demeaned you, one more confirmation of his control of you. You pressed your hands into the mat, trying to push yourself back — but it was only met with a harsh pull, forcing your body back until you practically slammed against his hips.

“Don't fight.”

It was the last thing you heard. You threw your head back as the sensation became overwhelming, back arching and eyes rolling back as the feeling reached a peak. You could only faintly register the high-pitched sound that sounded as if it couldn't be you, a voice you didn't recognize.

And then it began to ebb away. A hazy stupor filled the void as the pleasure dissipated, a feeling of exhaustion. Your weight went limp.

You made a soft sound as he grasped your jaw again, turning your head just enough to place another kiss to your lips.

“There you go. Look at you now… all that stress and in you, totally gone. You can see it in your eyes, even.”

He paused before adding,

“Well, gone for now. I'll have to start monitoring for it more closely.”

You shuddered at the sensation as he slid out of you, fluid spilling out onto the sheets.

You felt him reach behind you, untying your wrists — you brought your arms to the front of your body, but the forearms only laid useless, having fallen asleep from your weight.

He came to rest beside you, upper body slightly propped up on his elbow, head resting in his hand, looking down at you with adoration and endearment.

And you were so, so weak. So much weaker than you wished you were, body, mind and spirit alike. So weak that, in the rush of emotions that followed, you found yourself slowly crawling forward, burying your face against his chest with a pathetic little noise.

“Poor thing. Maybe that was a bit too much for you…”

His arm reached behind your back and pulled you close, and the comfort you felt seemed to melt your mind into nothingness.

“You should rest for a while,” he continued, “then we'll get you cleaned off. We have a few hours before you'll need to be ready.”

After a moment to process the words, you tilted your head up with the softest of inquisitive noises. The cold, creeping dread began to spread through your stomach once more.

He seemed to realize, then, that you didn’t understand.

“Ah, right, you wouldn't have known.” He reached out with the hand he wasn’t leaning on, brushing his fingers over your scalp. “While you were gone, I sent someone to arrange a house visit with a psychiatrist… a private one that works for families such as ours.”

His words certainly didn’t help soothe your nerves. Your mouth felt dry. Your voice came out weak, hesitant, part of you not wanting to ask, lest you learn an unpleasant answer.

“…Why?”

He tilted his head in just the slightest, loose strands of hair shifting and waving with the motion. “Well, keeping your needs in check does help with your condition, but I’ve realized it would do you good to have a secondary means to treat your hysteric tendencies as well.”

“My…” You swallowed. “My what?” The words slowly pieced together in your mind, hitting you with a sense of dread and confusion. You squirmed backwards, shifting just a bit away from him. “There's… nothing wrong with me…”

“Of course, of course, there’s nothing wrong, that’s…” He spoke in a reassuring sort of tone, as if to comfort you. “…A harsh choice of phrasing. You just need some help, is all.” After a moment of pause, he added, “don't worry, it's perfectly normal that you aren't self-aware of it. That's usually how these illnesses work.”

His arm reached out further, pulling you back towards him, pressing your bodies together before he continued.

“He’s just required to see you in-person for a little while before giving you anything. Regulations and all. We’re just going to get you something to make you a little more… docile.”

His arm wrapped around your body, and he pulled his head back just a bit to look you in the eye, smiling with endearment.

“Ah, I can tell by your face that you’re nervous. Don’t worry, I'll be there throughout the whole thing… I'll answer any questions, you just sit there quietly, alright?” He pulled you a bit closer, planting an affectionate, short kiss to the top of your head. “I know that sort of thing is a lot on your nerves.”

If your trembling could be felt, he didn’t say anything about it, only carrying on with his gently-spoken words.

“We won’t have to worry about you having these… irrational escapades anymore. And you’ll be so much happier, too.”

You felt his hand on your back, firmly in place — you were pressed so close together that there was no need to pull you any closer, but perhaps he wanted to be sure you couldn’t pull away.

“So… rest for now, alright?”

Mind and heart alike racing, in your stupor, you let the pause linger for too long. The hand on your back began to close in on itself, fingernails brushing against your skin just enough to send the faintest of pains up your spine.

You had no strength left in you to give anything other than the correct answer.

“Okay...”

He only gave you a hum of acknowledgement, and began to stroke your back up and down, a pattern that should have been comforting and soothing, yet was anything but. Exhaustion wore on your body, but even as you forced yourself to close your eyes, true rest was nowhere to be found.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Kinda weird question but you know how in the story of Sleeping Beauty, her parents outlaw spinning wheels and burn everyone in the kingdom and all that?

What would the material impact be on the kingdom?

it's interesting- I've seen exactly one adaptation that addressed this, and it was an East German state-produced version

(as I've mentioned before, my alma mater has a huge collection of DEFA fairytale movies. I watched a bunch of them in a folklore class my first year)

in that version, the kingdom's weavers and spinners are shown being furious at losing their employment but of course they have no power to stop the king. and at the end, the Good Fairy teaches the princess how to spin so that she can teach the rest of the women in the kingdom and revitalize the industry (why they apparently all forgot how to do it in only 16 years, so completely that they had to be taught from scratch all over again, I have no idea)

it makes a lot of sense that that aspect would be explored in a fairytale from an ostensibly communist country- I say "ostensibly" because we all know how well that tends to work out in real life when you add in human elements like greed and Scum Rising To The Top and such. they would be less likely to apply fairytale logic to something as huge as destroying an entire industry. and like you say, they're not wrong; that would have a massive impact on the country's economy unless they were already importing like 99% of their thread. given that there were enough spinning-wheels to order a mass destruction, that's probably not the case

so yeah it would likely have damaged the economy of the kingdom. but scared parents do irrational things, and when that scared parent has absolute power...

(that element DOES go back a very long way in the story- at least as far as Basile's 1634-36 version "Sun, Moon, and Talia," though not as far back as the oldest recorded version in the 1330s-40s French epic poem Perceforest)

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Lucky Break Chapter 6

Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader

3.6 words

Beginning / Previous / Next (to be written)

Sorry that this is a little late and kinda short. On the bright side, the next chapter will be posted a few days early, so there will be less of a wait for the next one.

Unsurprisingly, convincing a bunch of kids that you aren’t actually a band of cannibalistic pirates is not an easy task to accomplish. Especially not when Luffy and Zoro are only adding to it. It only stopped when the old man running the inn interrupted the yelling and terrified screaming to say that no one was eaten.

With that established, the children were shockingly calm now, all things considered. Now that your names were cleared, all of you were lingering outside of the inn.

“Do all pirates make jokes like that?” Ninjin was gawking at Zoro. After realizing that the swordsmen had just been messing with him, his terror had morphed into awe. Now he was seeing Zoro as some hardcore pirate to aspire to be. At least he wasn’t horrendously traumatized.

Zoro rolled his shoulders and shrugged, “The cool ones do.”

The response made you roll your eyes, but it’s not like you were about to waste your precious air trying to scold him. That would truly be a useless cause. He would probably just ignore you entirely.

Luffy tapped one of the kids, Piiman, on the shoulder, “Hey, do you know where that longnose guy went?”

“Usopp?” The green haired boy hummed in thought, “He’s probably visiting Miss Kaya right now.”

“Miss Kaya?” Nami raised an inquiring brow.

“She lives in that huge house on the hill,” Tamanegi pointed at that mansion that Zoro and Nami had asked Usopp about before. Ah, that made sense now. The reason he had gotten so defensive all of a sudden was because he knew the people living there.

Nami didn’t appear to be done with her questions and pressed on, “What’s he doing over there?”

All three of the kids spoke in unison and with great enthusiasm, “Lying!”

“That’s awful!” Nami scolded the children as if she didn’t steal someone’s wallet mere minutes ago.

Ninjin was quick to leap to Usopp’s defense, “Nuh-uh! He goes over there to tell Kaya stories to make her feel better!”

“Feel better? Is she sick?”

Piiman grins proudly, “Yeah, but she’s also been really sad since her parents passed away after getting sick. Usopp tells her all kinds of fun stories to make her smile and laugh!”

Oh my god. If that wasn’t the most wholesome shit you’ve ever heard. Luffy agreed with the sentiment openly, “Oh, so he’s a really good person?” That was putting it mildly. Luffy stepped closer and crouched down next to Piiman, “Can you take us to him? I wanna talk to him again.”

All three of the children agreed and led the way towards the mansion. Your group trailed behind the trio at a leisurely pace, minus Luffy who was bouncing around and checking out every little thing he saw with significant enthusiasm. 

The village was, admittedly, quite quaint. You felt charmed by your surroundings. From the looks of it, this was the village’s mainstreet. Various stores spotted either side of the path you were traversing down. A bakery, some carpentry shop, a toy store, and- 

You gasp and grab onto Zoro’s arm, “Look! A doctor's office!” Without wasting a second, you run over, dragging Zoro behind you despite his protests. You come to a stop in front of the door and reach forward to open it, only to notice the sign on the door. Out, come back later.

“Shit!” Just your luck that the doctor would be out when you just so happened to be passing by! You kicked the dirt under your feet in frustration. “Do you think the doctor will be back soon?”

“How should I know?” Zoro tugged his arm free and shot you a questioning look, “And why are you dragging me with you?”

Is this guy dense? “Oh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you have a stab wound?!” 

“I already told you, I slept it off.” The way Zoro rolled his eyes and spoke made it sound like you were the irrational one here. Before you could yell at him that, no, you cannot just sleep off a stab wound, he pulled up his shirt. The wound was where you remembered it being, but something was off. He was stabbed yesterday, but the wound looked like it was a week old, at the least. “See? It’s fine. Quit fussing about it.”

You’re no doctor, but you know that this can’t be right. You stare at him in shock and horror, “What are you?”

Zoro quirked a brow, “A swordsman?”

“More like an X-Men.”

Your words visibly threw him off. He frowned and his eyes narrowed. “A what?”

“A… It’s like…” Not for the first time, you found yourself confused about the meaning of words out of your own mouth. Where did that term come from? You strained yourself to track down what that word meant. “Superpowers? It’s someone with superpowers… I think?”

“So it’s someone with a devil fruit?” You guess that’s about right. Maybe you just got mixed up? You nod at Zoro’s statement. Zoro sighs and fixes his shirt, “Then just say that.”

“Yeah… guess I just got confused.” You scratch the back of your head. Calling your current state of mind confused was the understatement of the century. The mysteries of your mind shall go on to confound you another day.

“Hey! Are you guys coming or not?” Nami had stopped and turned to face you and Zoro with her hands on her hips. 

“Come on, maybe the doctor will be back in before we leave this island.” One of Zoro’s hands rested on his swords, while the other was on your upper back and firmly encouraging you to keep walking. Having no reason to object, you go along with it.

The walk to the mansion continues, but you pay very little mind to it now. It was hard to focus on your surroundings when your mind was zeroed in on your failing memory. All of the fragments you were getting were effectively useless, at least as far as you could tell. Well, you suppose there was that inkling of a memory you got back at the restaurant, but you stomped that one out for feeling too uncomfortable. Admittedly, that was probably a stupid move. What were you going to do? Block out your whole life if it turns out it wasn’t great or something worth remembering?

Dwelling on this was far from pleasant, however necessary it may be. You sigh and look around, wanting to scope out where you are now. The town was long gone, and you could see a tall fence not far from where you were, separating the estate behind it from the rest of the community. A ways away from where you guys were was the gate that allowed entrance. Two guards were posted outside of it, and you doubted that they would let your group in.

Tamanegi ran up to the bars of the fence and pointed through them at a tree right next to the home, “See, he’s talking to Kaya over there!”

You step closer to the fence and look where he’s pointing. Sure enough, you can see Usopp sitting on a branch next to a window. There’s a pale, blonde woman in the windowsill, who you’re assuming is Kaya. It’s all well and good that you’ve tracked down Usopp, but it looks like you’re going to have to wait for him to leave before you can talk to him. Sneaking into the estate would be out of the question, obviously.

Then you look over and see that Luffy has stretched his arms to reach the top of the fence and was taking some steps back. His rubbery arms were taught with tension. You gawk at him, not liking the look of this one bit, “What are you doing?”

Rather than anyone trying to answer this question, Luffy keeps stretching his arms while everyone else grabs onto him. Your voice raises, “What are all of you doing?” Nami grabs your arm, forcing you into whatever weird-ass plan was in the works here. You squirm and look around frantically, “What are we doing? What’s the plan here?”

The next thing you knew, Luffy jumped up and used his arms to send all of you sailing over the fence and through the air. Naturally, you’re screaming at the top of your lungs. But the children are too, so at least you aren’t alone in your terror. Instead of landing not far beyond the fence, you guys were maintaining a high speed that was bringing you closer and closer to the home. Mercifully, instead of crashing through the walls like a wrecking ball, you landed mere feet from the structure. People were colliding with the ground all around you. Nami had let go of you at some point, and you fell onto Luffy and then bounced off of him. His body had done a little bit to soften the blow, but it still knocked the wind out of you. You groaned in pain and curled into a ball while trying to catch your breath and make your head stop spinning.

Tamanegi crouched down next to you and poked your shoulder, “Are you okay?” Aside from some grass stains on his clothes, he looked completely fine. Ah, the resilience of youth. Blinking the spots out of your eyes, you force yourself up onto your feet while nodding wordlessly. By the time your ears stop ringing, you can make out Usopp’s voice desperately trying to explain your group’s abrupt arrival.

Kaya was leaning out of her window and staring at all of you with apprehension and confusion. Even with only part of her upper body visible, you could plainly see how frail her build was. The poor thing looked deathly pale, it was honestly more than a little concerning.

“Oh, these guys?! They’re just… my newest crew members!” The high-pitched, nervous laugh Usopp let out did little to help make his case.

“No, we’re not.” Luffy killed that lie instantly and with zero hesitation. He stood up and brushed himself up, seemingly unbothered from you essentially body slamming him. “I wanted to ask you for a favor, actually!”

“A favor? What is it?” Kaya, for whatever reason, was actually entertaining the idea of helping out someone who just slingshotted himself and his cohorts onto her property. What a shockingly understanding person. Luffy started to ask about getting a ship, but was interrupted by someone shouting.

“Who are you people? You aren’t supposed to be here!”

You look over your shoulder and see a tall, slender man in a dark suit rapidly approaching. Judging by his appearance, you feel like you can assume he is a butler or something of the like. The second he yelled, all three of the kids shrieked and hid themselves in your obnoxious looking coat. At least it’s getting some use outside of helping you blend in with clown pirates.

The man adjusted his glasses with the palm of his hand while sneering at all of you, making absolutely no attempt to hide his contempt for your presences. Which, admittedly, is fair given that you guys are actively trespassing. He glared at the large tree by the window before calling out, “Usopp, I know you’re there.”

Usopp slinked out from behind the tree, looking like he would have his tail between his legs if he possessed one. The man stared at him coldly, “Of course someone with as troublesome a reputation as you would be involved.”

Kaya attempted to ease the situation, “Klahadore, please! He doesn’t mean any harm!” That was one hell of a name. It sounded almost comically pretentious.

Luffy was entirely undeterred by the butler’s demeanor. “We just wanted to ask that girl something.” 

“You will do no such thing. All of you need to leave immediately.” His eyes narrowed at Usopp, “Especially you. Someone with a father like yours has no business being around Miss Kaya.”

“Excuse me?” Usopp was taken aback by that jagged statement.

“You’re the son of a filthy pirate. It’s distasteful for you to even be in the vicinity of the lady of the house.” 

Just like that, any understanding you had for this man being irritated with your group curled up and died. He isn’t a man doing his job, he’s just some classist prick that thinks he’s better than everyone else here.

“Klahadore, stop! That’s enough!” Even Kaya sounded appalled by his behavior.

Her words did nothing to stop Klahadore, who appeared to be taking great delight in this, “You two are from entirely different worlds. I can only assume that you interact with the lady with the intent of gaining something. Money, perhaps?” The accusation stunned everyone into silence, which he took as his cue to continue, “If I’m being quite honest, I pity you. It is truly unfortunate how you’ve been forced to live since your father abandoned his family and home for nothing more than the pursuit of treasure. You must hate him for it, surely.”

Usopp stormed towards Klahadore while Kaya was yelling at her rude-ass butler to stop and apologize for his words. Usopp came to a halt right in front of him, “Don’t you dare talk about my father like that! He’s a good man!”

Klahadore smirked, “Is that what you tell yourself? Another one of your lies, presumably. Though, I suppose that a lot of people would resort to such measures if stuck with a father like that. Well, assuming that he is actually your father.”

In an instant, Usopp’s fist connected with Klahadore’s jaw and sent him back several feet. Your mouth was gaping after hearing all of that. What a dick! Get his ass, Usopp! The kids using your coat for cover all popped their heads out and looked as shocked as you were.

Usopp took several steps forward, shouting at the butler, “Shut up! I am proud of who my family is! I’m proud that my father is a pirate and chasing his dreams! I might lie and tell stories, but I’ve never exaggerated a single thing about how I feel about my blood!”

Klahadore gritted his teeth and got back up, “Just like I thought, you’re a savage that resorts to violence at the drop of a hat. I suppose you must be the son of that pirate, you’re certainly acting as such, and that’s all the proof that I need to assume that you’ve been cozying up to the lady of the house in an attempt to get her fortune.”

“Why you,” Usopp lunged forward and grabbed him by his suit and pulled back his arm like he’s about to deliver another blow.

“Stop, Usopp!” Kaya pleaded desperately with him, “Please, there’s no need for violence. Klahadore isn’t a bad person, he’s just…trying to do what he thinks is best for me.” 

You shoot her a questioning look that you’re fairly certain she doesn’t even see. You’re not sure what insulting Usopp’s entire family tree has to do with “doing what’s best for her”. In your humble opinion, Usopp had every right to deck that stuck up prick one more time. Instead, he relented and backed away from him. A shame, really.

“You need to leave this place and never set foot here again.” Klahadore dusted off his clothes and was trying his damndest to look dignified despite just getting his shit rocked by a teenager.

Usopp walked past him, speaking lowly, “Fine. You don’t need to tell me twice.” He stomped away without another word, his shoulder hunched and fists clenched.

In a flurry, the trio taking refuge in your coat sprung out and ran up to Klaha-dick to defend their captain’s honor. Ninjin opened strong by calling him a stupid butler insisting that Usopp would never do any of that. Then all three of them dissolved into chanting ‘stupid head’ at him, so you’re pretty sure he’ll never emotionally recover from this.

Their brave verbal assault crumbled the second that Klahadore looked down at them. In the blink of an eye, they turned tail and returned to the sanctity of your coat. The butler’s gaze scanned over all of you with palpable disdain. He readjusted his glasses and waved an arm dismissively, “All of you need to leave, too.”

You had no problem with that. The less time spent here, the better. You carefully herded the kids hiding in your coat as you walked, which was not an easy thing to do with six more feet right under you, but you’ll manage.

After leaving the estate, you all congregated by a quiet field next to an unpopulated path. The boys have dispersed, mercifully, so you are now perched up on a fence. Luffy ran off a few minutes ago after one of the kids had told him where Usopp may have gone.

The crisp, clean air felt refreshing as you inhaled it deeply. You exhaled and tilted your head back to look up at the sky. In the back of your mind, you wonder if another weapon and mysterious note will fall out of it like in Orange Town. The note… Your hand dips into your coat pocket and digs out the folded up piece of paper. You unfold it and decide to read it again.

“Lucky”

What an interesting event

Losing your memories was not my intent

To aid in your journey

Please take this urumi 

“A”

You had hoped that reading it a second time would jog your memory, but it didn’t. You still have no idea who “A” is supposed to be. Were you two supposed to be close? Was this person a mere acquaintance? A weapons dealer with very unique methods? You can’t say.

Suddenly, the paper is plucked out of your hands. Your head snaps up and you see Nami standing next to you. Her brows furrow and she flips the paper over before shooting you a confused look, “Why are you staring at a blank piece of paper?”

What? You stammer as you try to speak, “B… Blank?”

“Yeah? Why are you staring so intently at a blank piece of paper?” Nami was alternating between staring a hole into you and glancing at the paper. Her eyes were looking right where the words were, yet she was seeing nothing? How is that possible?

All you can do is stare for a moment. Then, you laugh nervously and scratch the back of your head, “Oh, right! I was… I wanted to write something down on that, but then I remembered that I don’t have a pen on me!” That sounded dumb as hell.

Nami’s expression reflected that sentiment, “Really?”

“Yeah! You know me, I’m so forgetful!” You force out another unnatural laugh while snatching the paper out of her hand to stuff it back into your pocket. Hazarding another glance at Nami, you saw her looking at you with an extremely doubtful expression. Her stare was hard and it felt like she was seeing right into your soul. Fortunately, she sighed and looked away. 

“Alright, whatever you say.”

Something tells you that she’s going to bring this up again later, and you can only hope that you’ll have come up with a better excuse by then. Your mind was running in circles trying to rationalize how insane your most recent revelation was. Apparently, you have a magical piece of paper with words on it that only you can see. Sure! Why not?! This might as well happen with all the other weird shit going on right now! How your situation was able to progressively get weirder and weirder was beyond you, and at this point, you’re afraid of what else is going to happen next.

“Guys! A really weird man is backwards-walking this way!” Tamanegi comes sprinting over the hill spouting off that incredibly ominous warning.

You and your big mouth inside your head. Are you cursed? Are you experiencing the effects of a curse put on you? Hesitantly, you crane your neck to see what he’s talking about. Sure enough, you see a man wearing a blue blazer and a hat moonwalking right at you.

“Michael Jackson?”

The man stops mid moonwalk with one hand grasping his hat. He looks at you like you’re insane- which you may be, but that’s beside the point. The heart shaped sunglasses and weird cylinder-thing on his chin only make his whole vibe even stranger. His glasses slide down a little as he makes eye contact with you, “Michael Jackson? That isn’t even close to my name. I don’t know who that is, but he should only be so lucky as to be compared to me.” His neck snapped around to then regard the children, “And which one of you brats called me weird?! I’m not weird!”

“I’m going to have to side with him, you do seem pretty weird.” Nami was now focused on him, and you hoped this encounter would make her forget about the paper incident.

The totally-not-weird man did what looked like a dance move and glared at Nami, “I’m not! I’m a perfectly normal traveling hypnotist!”

“A hypnotist? That’s so cool! Can you show us something?” Piiman was staring at him hopefully, very much intrigued by the man’s profession. You just rolled your eyes. He was probably a con artist. 

“What? You really expect me to show off my abilities to any snot-nosed brat who asks?” The weirdo stoops down to stare menacingly at Piiman. Then, he stands up straight and pulls something out of his pocket, “Very well, watch this ring closely. I’m going to swing this back and forth, and on the count of one, two, Jango, you’ll feel sleepy.” Well, he certainly changes his mind easily.

You quietly snorted but watched the display nonetheless. This guy was absolutely full of shit. Your eyes follow the silver ring that looks suspiciously like a blade as he starts to count.

“One. Two. Jango!”

And then you promptly passed out.

[amazinglyegg]

a bit of an angsty ask-- could you do companions react to sole having a panic attack?

Of course! Angsty prompts are my favorite <3

Companions react: Sole having a panic attack

Includes: Cait, Curie, Codsworth, Danse, Deacon, Gage, Hancock, Maccready, Maxson, Nick, Piper, Preston, and X6

Cait: 

As long as she’s known Sole for more than a few days she’ll be pretty decent at comfort

She gets it. Panic attacks suck. All she can do is try to make it less-sucky.

Won’t get all sappy or dramatic but will just sit with Sole somewhere and remind them that they’re alright

She also won’t let it overstay it’s welcome either, if that makes sense.

Once the panic attack is over and Sole’s willing to continue Cait will just get up and go along with her day, not bringing extra attention to what happened or trying to talk about it or anything

Curie:

Catch her re-reading (or even writing) notes while Sole’s panicking

Obviously Sole’s comfort is top priority but Curie doesn’t remember everything she’s supposed to do! She’s gotta read up on it!

“Think about something nice… like a field of flowers, or a puppy!”

She's very empathetic so she might end up crying a bit alongside Sole, and will probably tell Sole to just ignore her and focus on themself

Great at talking through emotions with! She'll never judge Sole for what they're feeling, even if it's "irrational" or "dramatic". Emotions are confusing, she gets it!

Codsworth:

Codsworth will do whatever he can to make up for his lack of ability to give physical comfort

Blankets, drinks, distractions via books or games, more blankets…

A lot of verbal comfort as well, but he might gear towards gentle jokes or stories rather than traditional comfort

He will mother-hen Sole for a while, even after the panic attack is over. Acts of service is his love language and he really wants Sole to know how much he loves them!

Might stress-clean afterwards, he’s just really worried about Sole and has a bit of abandonment issues he's gotta work through

Danse:

Surprisingly he’s not terrible at helping!

Gets Sole away from the situation, gives them some water, asks simple yes/no questions, etc. etc.

You can kind of tell he has a mental checklist going on and once he exhausts it he just kinda sits there and waits for the panic attack to end

Other than that he has no real clue what to say, so don't expect much more than a "there, there" and an awkward shoulder pat

He's definitely open for Sole if they need to vent or whatever but he's terrible at letting them know that, so Sole will probably have to be the one to initiate any further conversations about it

Catch him reading some medical book written in the 1900's for advice and going up to Sole like "Have you tried cocaine?"

Deacon:

Uhh. Panic.

Deacon is NOT good with these things! Lots of awkward laughter and (gentle) jokes and tense body language that kinda makes Sole a little more stressed

He’ll get better with time (and practice) though, although he may still need Sole to tell him what they need from him from time to time

He IS good at reading body language and such, so it won't take long for him to pick up details like whether they want to be touched or not

Definitely mentally noting down what triggers Sole’s anxiety so he can help them avoid it in the future

Gage:

Will straight up admit he has no clue what to do.

Doesn’t want to make things worse and doesn’t want to accidentally piss off Sole so he’ll probably just give them space and leave a beer next to them

The best Sole will get out of him is a pat on the back

Does defend Sole from any onlookers and will gently guide them somewhere more private if there are people around when they have the panic attack

To him, he'd be mortified if anyone saw him panicking like that! Catch him telling Sole embarrassing stories about himself so they feel better about being that vulnerable around him (even if they don't mind at all)

Hancock:

I think he’ll be good at recognizing the signs of a panic attack and comforting Sole even if they aren’t super close yet

He’s just the type of guy to get along with strangers, and that goes with comforting them too

He’ll rub Sole’s back and talk them through it quietly without drawing too much attention to it

He’s willing to just continue the conversation or act like nothing’s happening if it’ll help Sole - sometimes ignoring it will make it go away faster!

Generally just lets Sole take the lead and picks up on what they want/need from him

Nick Valentine

Okay we all know he'd be AMAZING at this

He'd notice Sole's anxiety, potentially before they even have the panic attack, and will lead them away somewhere calmer to de-stress

He's great at reassuring them of whatever they need to hear ("It's going to be okay, you're safe, I'm here...) and he'll stay calm and composed in the process

Honestly wouldn't be surprised if he kept like, a stuffed animal or something in his giant coat of his for this reason

Might be hesitant on physical touch, or even eye contact - he's self conscious and afraid he'll freak them out with his eyes or metal hand

WILL let them wear his coat like a blanket though... if they can excuse the smell of cigarettes

Maccready:

He doesn’t know what to do but he can’t just leave them, so he’ll try anything really

Talking them through breathing exercises, keeping them away from crowds/busy areas, patting their shoulder awkwardly, hell he’ll even give them a hug if they ask

Tries to just be there for them, even if he doesn’t really know what to say or do

Might just resort to “keeping watch” by sitting a few feet away from them with a gun, both so they can have their space and so they know they’re safe and he’s still within earshot.

Maxson:

Definitely a “just calm down” / “just breathe” type of guy

Either that or he’ll straight up panic and send Sole to the med bay thinking they're having a heart attack

He’s never really had anyone to role model good responses to these kinds of situations before! He’s trying his hardest but he has no clue what to do

He WANTS to know what to say though, so if Sole explains it to him after the fact he’ll pay attention and use their advice for any future panic attacks

Canonically he views mental health as just as important as physical health, so he will definitely take Sole seriously and do whatever it takes to keep them happy and healthy

Piper:

“Haha what’s wrong Sole?? 😀 … oh shit what’s wrong 😥” type of reaction

Basically it might take her a bit to realize Sole’s having a panic attack, but she’ll do what she can to help once she notices it

Takes “rest and digest” literally - will give Sole food and tuck them into bed if she can

Might try to throw every coping strategy she knows at Sole all at once in hopes one of them will work well

Uhh BREATHING and FOOD and and PET DOGMEAT do you want to go on a walk?? How about some hot chocolate???

Might be a good idea for Sole to make a checklist for her to go down one by one...

Preston:

Great at speaking gently and keeping Sole from panicking more

Slow movements, low voice, maybe holding their hand or rubbing their back comfortingly

He doesn’t always know exactly what to say so he’ll focus on self-soothing for himself to help Sole calm down as well

Things like taking deep breaths so Sole can follow along or going on a walk with them

He's also very respectful of their space and privacy, and will immediately give them space if they ask for it (even though he's almost worried sick about them)

Will reassure them that he doesn't think any differently of them or their ability to lead the Minutemen!

X6:

I think X6 would actually be pretty good at comforting Sole, all things considered

The last thing you need while having a panic attack is other people panicking as well, right?

And X6 will definitely stay calm, that’s for certain.

He might also end up overloading Sole with facts about panic attacks though

Sole will be like “I think I’m having a heart attack” and X6 will respond by giving a list of every single symptom of both to compare and contrast as proof it's a panic attack

You can definitely catch him silently panicking the first time Sole has a panic attack though

He’s not good with emotions man he’s trying his hardest

[mydearzero]

helloooo beautiful, ur recent Spence fic sent me feral - can I request a Reid x reader where they’re dating and the non bau!reader gets jealous of JJ getting to spend all this time w Spence at work and spence reassuring her it’s nothing between them. Fluff but if it got smutty then hey ;) thank you gorgeous

Hii! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoy!! I was honestly feeling kinda mushy about this one so adding smut just felt out of place, sorry for that one folks

About a Girl | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You could never be like her. You were at peace with that. So why couldn't you shake the jealous, envious feeling whenever you saw Spencer with JJ?

Contents: NO Y/N, gn!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, comparing yourself to others, insecurity, fluff, non-BAU!reader, bathing together.

1.8K words it's short I know

SSA Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau: Mom, profiler, and one of Spencer's best friends. You looked up to her, in a way. She was successful and respected in her field, something anybody could only wish for. Combined with her sense of humour, personality and undeniable good looks, you were jealous. 

It had taken some time for you to admit it to yourself. You liked JJ. She was a good, honest person and a great friend to your boyfriend. But you slowly felt yourself comparing yourself to her increasingly often. 

You couldn't live up to it. You weren't like JJ. Somewhere deep inside, the logical part of your brain told you that you didn't have to be. Spencer liked you for who you were. You knew it, yet you couldn't shake the envious feeling anytime her name fell in conversation. You couldn't stop the tight feeling you got in your chest whenever you saw the head of long blonde locks fall backwards in a hearty laugh directed at your boyfriend. 

Spencer knew something was wrong. How could he not? It was ingrained into his very being to read you at any given time. He wouldn't understand. You loved him, you did, but these were the types of things he just couldn't seem to grasp. You knew your feelings were irrational in theory. But that didn't mean you didn't still feel them regardless. He'd try to explain them away. 

So you didn't tell him. Refused to talk about the simmering bitterness. 

It frustrated Spencer. You could tell. He was usually able to read you like the morning paper, thrown carelessly on the lawn. He couldn't be objective in his profiling when it came to you. He knew you were on friendly terms with his best friend, so why would he ever assume that that was the problem? 

You didn't blame him, didn't blame anybody but yourself. 

It wasn't until a regular Thursday night dinner over at Rossi's that Spencer finally figured it out. The atmosphere was light, wine was flowing, and stories were being shared. Spencer laughed wholeheartedly at one of JJ's tales about Henry's late-night shenanigans. He'd caught your strange, longing gaze directed at JJ. His heart broke at the realisation, putting the pieces together at lightning speed.

You were jealous of his friendship with JJ and beating yourself up for it. He didn't know what to do about it. He could only assure you he loved you, but Spencer knew you knew that. He knew you were likely aware your worries were unwarranted. Which must only make you feel worse about the feelings you were harbouring. Spencer cursed silently at himself for not realising it earlier. 

You met his gaze, giving him a soft, genuine smile. So, the feelings weren't directed at him. It was JJ who was troubling you. He turned to her, seated next to him. You'd insisted on sitting next to Emily, claiming you needed to catch up with her. Were you punishing yourself for feeling the way you did? By making him choose to sit next to JJ? 

Spencer excused himself from the table, claiming to feel unwell. You frowned, gathering your things, saying your goodbyes and following Spencer out the door. He didn't speak as his hand met your lower back, guiding you to the passenger side of his car. He held the door as you got in. 

The ride to his apartment was silent but not necessarily unpleasant. Spencer's hand reached for yours over the console, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing manner.

"You okay?" You asked. He'd seemed fine only minutes earlier. He nodded, squeezing your hand. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?" Spencer inquired. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why he'd ask. He was the one that wanted to leave, after all. 

"Yeah? I'm fine. Why? Is that why you wanted to go? Because you thought I wasn't?" You'd been having fun exchanging stories with Emily. What had he seen that had made him immediately pack up and leave? 

"Yeah... Let's talk when we get home, okay?" He sent a quick look into your eyes, assuring you it was nothing bad. It didn't make the dread building in your stomach any less present. 

Spencer parked the car and got the door for you. He usually was a true gentleman, but he was noticeably going out of his way to ensure your comfort. 

You walked up to his door and waited for him to unlock it. He took your jacket and hung it on the rack beside his own. You took your shoes off and put them by the door, giving Spencer a peck on his cheek as he passed you into the kitchen. 

"Tea?" His voice echoed. 

"Yes, please!" You replied, plopping down on the couch and getting comfortable. Spencer was obviously not troubled by the topic he wanted to talk about, so the tension you felt in the car was slowly dissipating. 

Spencer walked carefully with the mugs in either hand. He put yours in front of you before sitting down and taking a tentative sip of his own, hissing at the heat. 

"You wanted to talk?" You urged, no longer having the patience to wait. 

"Yeah... I just noticed something tonight I should've noticed before. I don't know how to change your feelings about it, though. I know you know I love you more than anything. So, I understand you're feeling conflicted, and I'm not mad you kept it to yourself." Spencer started. He was hesitant. 

"Kept what to myself, Spence?" Your heart was beating fast, and you cursed your body for overreacting. He obviously wasn't mad or breaking up with you. 

"Your feelings about my friendship with JJ," Spencer spoke outright. Your heart dropped, and you couldn't help but feel caught. You closed your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek, turning your head away from him.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Spencer's words were quiet, but you knew there was no use hiding it from him anymore. You nodded in defeat before jumping to your own defence. 

"I know it's irrational, okay? I know I have nothing to worry about. I know JJ's just a good friend, and she's happily married to Will, and she has the kids and... And I know you'd never do anything to jeopardise our relationship, and I know you love me, but you spend so much time with her at work, and she has a key to your apartment, and I know it was just to look after your mom while she was here-" You rambled, but Spencer sushed you. 

"Hey, hey. I know. I know. There's no need to defend the way you're feeling. Sometimes, feelings can be irrational, and I do spend a lot of time with her. I know that you know, okay? That doesn't make the way that you're feeling any less valid," Spencer assured you. 

"I'm so sorry, Spencer. I just- I can't stop it once I start. She's amazing, Spence. And I know you'll say I am, as well. But it's not the same. It'll never be the same. I can't give you what she does." 

"And I'm not asking you to. I'm in a relationship with you. She's one of my best friends. Those dynamics offer different things, and I'm okay with that. If you want me to change my dynamic with JJ, I'll work on it. Just tell me what you need, please," Spencer begged. 

A singular tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek. You wanted to scoff at it. You'd kept it in for so long. You weren't even sure where the bitterness came from nor where it was truly directed. 

"I guess I just need the external validation. I know you love me, and I feel it. My head knows you wouldn't let anything get between us. It's just my heart that won't cooperate." Spencer tugged you to his chest, putting a hand in your hair and stroking softly. 

"There's no need to apologise. You can't force your body to change how you're feeling, unfortunately. If it was that straightforward, my job would be a whole lot easier, too." Spencer laughed. 

A short laugh escaped through your tears. "I know, Spence. I just wish I could shut it off. JJ's a wonderful person. She doesn't deserve this." 

"And neither do you. And if it's gonna take some extra effort from me to make your body catch up with your head, I'll gladly put it in. Come on," Spencer got up, taking your hand in his. You trailed behind him as he stalked to the bathroom. He turned the faucet on, waiting for it to get warm before letting the water fill the bathtub. He put a generous amount of aromatic soap into it, letting it bubble. 

"Wait here," he urged. 

You stared at the grout between the tiles, following the paths it created as you waited for Spencer to return. The sound of the water plummeting into the tub covered any conspicuous noises coming from whatever he was doing. Steam was slowly forming around you, the bathroom filling with the lavender scent of Spencer's favourite soap. 

He quickly returned, arms filled with all sorts of products. Candles, snacks, a book and some comfy clothes. 

"Why're you still dressed?" He questioned, positioning the candles around the tub and bathroom. 

"You said to wait!" You shrugged. 

"Well, get on with it!" Spencer laughed, encouraging you to undress. 

"Gee, Reid. Someone might almost think you want to see me naked." You winked, tugging your top over your head. 

"Oh, I always want to see you naked, but that's not what tonight is about," Spencer assured. He lit a few candles, their light making the bathroom less clinical-looking in an instant. 

You remained in your underwear, assuming Spencer would be joining you after his frantic preparations. When he finally had everything arranged how he wanted it, he undressed. You took off your underwear and let him help you into the bath, careful to avoid any candles. He got in behind you, pulling you backwards to settle against his chest. 

"I love you," Spencer declared, taking some soap and rubbing your back. The great thing about having a boyfriend with an eidetic memory is that he could remember many massage techniques intended for relaxation. You unwound under his gentle touch. 

You stayed in the water until both of you were pruned up. Spencer had read to you, fed you snacks, massaged every part of your body he could think of and made sure you felt loved. 

Sure, you weren't like JJ. But she wasn't like you, either. And that was okay. It wouldn't make Spencer love you any less, nor her any more. 

[sundownpromises]

a brief ramble post about owen

I don’t know how many people are going to agree with this, but here goes.

Sometimes, I feel like one of the few people that like Owen. The way the TLOU fandom usually demonizes him really irks me because people tend to have really one-dimensional views of his character, which is sad considering the fact that all of the characters in TLOU are complex and written in such a nuanced way. I honestly think it’s a little ignorant to demonize Owen just because he cheated. And before anyone yells at me–no, I don’t stand for cheating, nor do I think cheating is a good thing to do. What I am saying, though, is that only looking at the fact that Owen cheated and not paying attention to other aspects of his character is kinda silly.

Owen, alongside a few other characters, is one of the most morally sound, level-headed, and grounded characters in the game. In the midst of all the violence, he really stands out as a character that truly just wants to do good and is sick and tired of all the blood on his hands, metaphorically and literally. Yes, he cheated, and that’s totally not cool – but this is the man that spared Ellie, deeming it unnecessary violence. This is the man that wanted to go to Santa Barbara for a better life for him and his companions, even if the chance was slim. This is the man that told Abby he spared an old Seraphite that was on the ground, defenseless, and shot one of his own to protect who was supposed to be a sworn enemy. I find the conversation that Owen has in the boat with Abby to be so insightful on the kind of guy Owen is deep down. Owen cheating on his pregnant girlfriend was a completely irrational decision – but all of the TLOU characters have made completely irrational and even immoral decisions.

These characters exist in a world where they are often pushed to make these kinds of decisions. I think the writing team did an excellent job of depicting them as complex individuals full of contradictions and impulsions just like humans in real life. Absolutely none of these characters are perfect and that’s the point. To only define Owen as a cheater and to completely disregard the good parts of him is just doing a disservice to the wonderful writing in this game.

Nobody in this fandom completely demonizes Ellie for all the acts of violence she committed, and that’s because people are able to recognize that deep down, Ellie is a compassionate individual. She went on that revenge journey not because she’s just a naturally violent, bloodthirsty person but because she was driven to commit those acts and she felt like she had to in the name of justice; she simply failed to realize (until it was too late) that the violence she was committing would not help her achieve her goal of vengeance and that it was only harming the people she loved as well as herself. Most people are able to understand this and yet when it comes to characters like Owen, that kind of nuanced thinking flies out the window. It really doesn’t make sense to me. Mel also gets weird treatment but that’s another post for another time.

At the end of the day, I am definitely not forcing anybody to like Owen. But I’ve always felt that these characters are multi-faceted and deserve to be viewed as such. Also… if the worst thing a character in this game has done is cheat on their partner, that’s pretty tame compared to, oh I don’t know, murder and stuff. Obviously in the real world cheating is one of the lowest things you can do but in the TLOU universe? In the apocalypse where people turn into monsters in the name of whatever they’re fighting for? Where some people take the lives of others just because? That’s the last thing I would care about. Genuinely. Especially when there’s cannibals and transphobic cults running amok.

[l0stfoster]

As a Marcia x Two-Bit shipper, their entire relationship in Cursed Tulsa seems interesting. Do you have more information on it?

Just as Timewing got super excited about Darry, Novva got really excited about Mar-bit so I let her take the lead on this one.

Let it be known that Mar-bit itself isn’t set in stone to be canon, since we like to leave some of the stuff open for interpretation, but people are free to read into their relationship however they like; hence Novva’s explanation about them!! Like last time, Novva's bullet point for each section is the first one, and any comments of mine are the second bullet. The rest is below the cut >:)

How the relationship starts.

- Pretty obviously, it actually doesn’t even begin right off the bat. They really do start off as friends who kinda kiss in private. For a while, it was likely just a relationship that they would so subtly stare at each other respectfully but because of Social Norms, the whole Cursed thing, and Marcia’s reputation, they both essentially thought of each other as something they love but cannot have. (This is arguably the first time Marcia has had a relationship like this, where she cannot even enter a relationship with him without permanently damaging her reputation as a Soc.) When they do get together, it is likely months after the events of the book and when Two-Bit’s finally given the chance and beginning to digest and recover from the trauma he received at his jumping. Since Johnny’s got his mobility aids by now, the prosthetic is likely in the works, and Paul’s making up with Darry, gives Two the perfect opportunity to heal himself mentally and try to see if he can trust Marcia like how he once did. - Novva's spot on. Two doesn't even trust being around Marcia for the first few months post-jumping, but over time she finds a way to rebuild that bridge between them and they begin to bond again. He's still on edge, and freaks out anytime she touches his wings (whether accidental or purposeful), but he knows she's not trying to be malicious. My rough estimate is it's probably 5 or 6 months post-jumping that they give their relationship a chance; as it gives Two time to heal but also would give Marcia the chance to decide if she's willing to risk her reputation if word ever got out.

The cracks in the relationship.

- For instance; Two-Bit is terrified of being hurt again even though he knows Marcia wouldn’t hurt him like how her friends did. The jumping was an experience that traumatized him to the point of not even trusting his own mother for a while, and his mother wasn’t even there! How could he even trust his girlfriend, who was there and witnessed it all first-hand? Another crack is Marcia’s willingness. She fought tooth and nail for his trust and everything else and definitely wasn’t taking other’s bullshit. It uneased Two-Bit at first, seeing someone he thought was soft and innocent, full-on just beating up one of the many Socs who mutilated his wing and tortured him. He knows she means well, but isn’t it still scary to see it? - Yyyyeah Two was definitely super closed off and defensive for a long while, even when he watched her step up to his defense. Trust is a difficult thing to gain, and although she does get it back, he knows better than to give a soc that much leeway for a good while. The irrational part of his brain can't help but wonder if that attitude she holds against the socs who jumped him could be turned onto him as well; if that makes sense.

The relationship as a whole.

- They are very good for each other. They have a very similar sense of humor, regularly joke with each other, all that shit. (Someone referred to them as Brains ((Marcia)) and Brawn ((Two)) and definitely got punched though) Two-Bit is an affectionate person by nature and instinct, and Marcia just goes with the flow and will accept nearly everything given to her. - Novva's pretty spot on. The only thing I can say is that I doubt Two would care for the Brains and Brawn joke, it's probably Marcia upset on his behalf and he's just there like an unbothered king

The first time preening.

- It definitely comes as a surprise to Marcia. She knew the importance of preening for Harpy from Evie (they’re besties and I will fight you if you say they aren’t) but even then Evie doesn’t know much. Anyway, it was fully a surprise when the two were just cuddling and he asked. Mind you, at this point in time, Marcia had avoided so much as to brush a hand on the wings out of fear of him getting scared or even attacking her. It took about 20 or so minutes for Two-Bit to even so much as get used to Marcia’s touch, a touch he’d been terrified of at first. There were multiple times he flinched and she’d stop entirely. If you can’t tell yet I think about them a lot. And I also have more. #sedatemeplease It takes even LONGER to show PDA. Both of them love affection but are scared shitless of being jumped by someone over it. That doesn’t mean they won’t absolutely cuddle and softly kiss the shit out of the other if given the chance. No, they aren’t that couple that makes out in class but there's been a few instances where it got close to that /silly - I don't have much to comment on lmao, Two definitely had to be the one to propose preening compared to Marcia's offering, but he was definitely so on edge when he asked. Honestly, I can imagine they had 2 or 3 failed attempts to preen (where Two asked, they tried, and he got too freaked out to continue) but they did eventually figure it out <3. I think that Two was likely less anxious about PDA than Marcia since his nature as a flock creature makes him pretty clingy and a big affection fan, but he restrained more for the sake of her reputation.

The feather necklace.

- As stated before and in my doodles of it, the feather that Marcia was gifted is in fact, woven into the necklace itself (destroying the feather = destroying the entire necklace itself) It’s got some shiny parts in it, small beads or and other parts of jewelry that was taken actually from the little trinkets that Two’s given Marcia on her windowsill. Marcia did not break her own jewelry, her mother wouldn’t let her. Marcia was hesitant to wear it in public at first, that new but terrifying fear of having this taken away from her very much showing. She did keep it on her person though, it kept Two-Bit happy even if she wasn’t sure if it was safe to wear it yet. It was never safe to wear it in lmao. - I have nothing to add this is on the dot too LMAO.

MARCIA’S FIRST JUMPING!

- Taking this from Foster’s post, but Two was seriously pissed off and also scared shitless for her. While she was on a walk, for a while he would fly behind her and would swoop down to pick her up if he saw ANY Soc car slow down near her. Eventually, she was able to take walks without his dive-bombing, but she was forced to take a weapon in case things got out of hand. And he absolutely got other Harpies involved. Angela Shepard herself might not like Marcia all that much due to her being a Soc, but she was absolutely hell-bent on torturing Bev for weeks. Bev’s tires were slashed, and she got jumped for the first time and had it arguably worse, but the message was delivered either way. Evie also definitely took part in intimidating Bev in the jumping. - Nothing to add, the girls look out for each other <3 As they should.

[falling-star-cygnus]

I need Billy comfort after the one where he got trapped under a building, can you please make him be saved?

well since you asked so nicely, how could i refuse?

continuation of this fic‼️ you don’t have to read it, of course, but it will make this whole thing make more sense :D @starguardianniom [your request is on the way, i just thought you might also like to be tagged in the part two :D]

without further ado~

"BILLY!"

She doesn't know which one of them screams it, maybe it was all three, but Anby lunges for the android's jacket- lunges really for any part of him she might be able to grab- until her hands close on red leather. The inevitable weight of his metal body doesn't cross her mind until she's being tugged down with him.

The feeble floor cracks further under Anby’s feet as she digs her heels in. That damned, annoying Ethereal shrieks- probably much louder than what she can hear through her headphones- and stomps like a spoiled child being told no for the first time. She'll put it out of it’s misery once she gets Billy- too still, too unresponsive- back onto safer ground.

Only ...Anby never gets the chance.

The ground jumps under her feet, and the tight grip she had on his jacket futzs.

Billy falls.

Hands and arms wrap around her waist before she can do something stupid like leap down after him. An action she knows is irrational but all she can hear is the way the android hits each level of the building and she needs to get him back-

"ANBY-! WE NEED TO GO."

Of course. Right. Clarity washes over her like cold water; Anby can't save Billy if she's dead too. And he would just feel bad if she got hurt trying to save him, because he had no regard for himself-

The remaining members of the Cunning Hares' fumble out of building just in time to see it topple like a house of cards- with their former client pinned in front of them by a slab of concrete.

It flails a little bit- kinda like a bug does when you grab it's leg- and they're privy to a front row seat as a metal support beam crashes into the weird orb of it's head. The thing splatters like a paintball.

None of them feel much remorse.

A few seconds of silence go by, passed by the girls simply.. staring.

"Well…. alright, Hares," Nicole starts, dusting her hands off, "Divide and conquer. Billy has to be around here somewhere."

'Hopefully.' goes unsaid, but painfully heard.

"R-Right!" Nekomata pipes up, her tails lashing with nervous energy, "I’m sure we’ll find him in no time! He can’t really keep quiet, anyway, y- you know?"

Anby doesn’t say anything at all.

They split up, taking turns calling the android's name and pouncing on any slight glimpse of white or red or yellow. Even greenish black would be better than nothing. Each empty nook, each second of silence, grated on their nerves until they were like frayed live wires.

Usually, Billy kept track of how long the Cunning Hares' stayed in a Hollow. It kept them all from lingering too long, unless they got stuck, and it kept them safe. Why couldn't they keep Billy safe- Now they had no idea how long they'd been searching.

Nicole had moved on to bargaining with empty air.

"Billy," she calls, heaving a heavy pillar to the side with a huff, "Come on, answer already! I won't yell at you anymore, or whack you or- or anything. Just answer us, please!"

"And I won't make fun of how you like to listen to classical music to fall asleep!" Nekomata joins in, from somewhere to Anby's left, "I'll even go to Random Play with you to find more, meow!"

"I'll watch Starlight Knights with you," It couldn't hurt to join in after all, Anby decides, "We could all go to the restaurant, and invite the Phaethon siblings, and-"

It was like something out of one of her movies. The second Anby pushes aside a new piece of rubble, she sees it. A tattered piece of the android's jacket- connected to tattered sleeves and sparking metal arms and a big fluffy head of white hair.

The relief almost sends the smaller Demara to her knees.

Time and place, she reminds herself fiercely, quickly signaling the other two closer to better excavate their friend. He's not in any form of good condition. It doesn't even look like he's conscious.

One of his video sensors is cracked, infected with a galactic black sludge that glows a mixture of pinkish blue red purple. The rest of his plating was pulsating green, and severe corruption was blooming anywhere it could take root.

It even looked like his audio processers were damaged. Anby couldn't even imagine how that must felt for her hyperactive friend- stuck in a silent, cramped space while Ether ate at his mind. Trapped without knowing that they were looking for him.

She hoped he would know anyway, that he wouldn't be wondering if he'd die alone under the weight of a building. Billy wasn't exactly insecure, but...

Anby shakes herself out of thinking about it. They'd found him, that was all that mattered at the moment. Now the Hares' just had to get him back home and back in working order.

"Both of you, stand back!" Nicole orders, aiming her briefcase above the wreckage pinning the android's lower torso.

The smaller girls are quick to comply, and out of the corner of her eye she can see the thiren swipe something golden off the ground. Nekomata shows it to her in silent explanation before shoving it deep into her sleeve for safekeeping.

Billy's little sheriff star.

A shot goes off before the smaller Demara can dwell on it, and suddenly the rubble atop their friend is being vacuumed up into the blackhole that Nicole manifests. They each grab a metal limb and tug him out of range.

One problem taken care of, another appears. The corruption blooming from his joints is excessive. If they take him out of the Hollow like this...

"We don't have time to think about it," Nicole reminds them all, voice tight with the weight of the android's life, "Anby, cut off as many of these... things as you can without hurting him. We'll see what we can do from there."

Anby nods once, and readies her sword.

One, two, four, eight turns to sixteen and sixteen turns to the very last one being cut down without mercy. With each bud removed, the sickly green light between his plates fades until it's barely there at all. There's not much to be done about the crack over his eye until they make it to a mechanic, but even that seems to lose it's glitchy appearance.

The Cunning Hares' don't bother with fighting the Ethereals they pass- there's no time- so it's mad dash to the exit that jostles the android's already crushed legs.

....Billy really was all limbs and pizazz.

It's only once the reunited Hares' make it a good deal from the Hollow that they stop running, doubled over and desperate for a full breath. Anby takes a quick survey of their surroundings as she gently lowers Billy to the ground, propped up on her lap to at least provide a little comfort.

It looks they ended up in Belobog territory, around where that eccentric mechanic liked to linger around. Gary-? Grail? Whatever...

Nekomata crouches down next to them and fishes the little star out of her sleeve. It's battered, and kind of dented around the points, but it still clips onto the leather like it never left.

Anby can vaguely hear Nicole tap away at her phone behind her, the curses muttered almost like a soothing balm of normalcy as the last of the corruption finally leaves Billy. His cracked eye returns to it's familiar shade of yellow- if painfully dull compared to his normal vibrancy.

But he's still unresponsive.

Still so hauntingly quiet and still. It's unnatural, and it isn't right. And none of them know if the android's going to last until tomorrow. Or even until the next hour.

Unbidden, Anby can feel her lower lip tremble- can feel stinging behind her eyes as she continues to run her hand through dusty white hair. It held none of the softness it did before this whole... job. Before her stupid grip had fumbled.

Anby hadn't cried in years, yet now she finds she can only helplessly watch as the salt splatters against the android's face plate. Like a mimicry of tears he wasn't built to shed.

"AhHh- Anby, don't cry," Nekomata frets, clearly freaked out by the uncharacteristic display, "He'll be okay! Bil- Billy's tough as nails, remember? I haven't known him for as long as you two.. but even I can tell that!"

Her puffy sleeves gently pat at the smaller Demara's face, trying to clear away the stupid liquid that was blurring her vision. Soft mantras of 'he'll be ok' are whispered, even as the thiren herself starts to cry.

Anby hunches over, would be curling into her knees if it wasn't for the weight of the unmoving android on her lap, and Nekomata clutches onto the lapels of his jacket and stifles a hiccup by biting down on her lip.

He wasn't coming back to them this time.

He wouldn't be there in the morning to braid her hair, or entertain her movie references, or lighten the mood with his silly Starlight Knight quips. He wouldn't be there to help them reach tall shelves, or distract their clients while Nicole emptied their bank accounts, or flail about with his lanky limbs.

Billy wouldn't be there.

...

..creak...

...Creak..

Creak.

Cool metal fingers brush past Anby's face, and then Nekomata's, and then fall limply back to the hard concrete.

"...don't... cry.."

...

...!

Billy!

Warm light finally flickers to life behind the android's video sensors, dimmer than normal but there.

Anby feels as though her heart's been restarted. Like the world had suddenly been bleached of color only for it to be a really badly timed greyscale shot.

Billy was alive, and whirring back into gear under their hands.

"You guys... really came for me..?"

"You big dummy!" Nekomata sniffs, ears and tails poofed like she'd been startled, "of course we did!"

"Have more faith in us," Anby echoes the thiren, resting her forehead against the android's with one final sniff. Nekomata rests her's against the diamond on his chest.

He can't hear them, his audio processers are still busted, but Anby hopes he can feel their care for him. Hopes he can feel how much they love him, and that they were here to stay no matter what happened. Just like he was for them.

Billy Kid was the heart of the Cunning Hares', after all.

[dirtytransmasc]

pav x hobie x gayatri content, cause I feel like this, I'm bored, I'm just putting down my thoughts as they come, this is gonna be super unorganized and random.

when they take naps together, it's typically hobie in the middle with either on top of or next to him, and it's honestly just one big pile. when they go to sleep at night, gayatri's in the middle, little spoon to pav's big spoon, with hobie big spooning the two of them from the other side, cause he's long enough. is kinda like this, (99, pav and gayatri facing the same way, and hobie facing the other way wrapped around them.

gayatri and hobie wear silver, pav wears gold.

gayatri = stars, hobie = eclipse, pav = sun

hobie isn't the jealous or possessive type (he is, casually, won't cause a scene about it and knows when he's being irrational about it), he's just protective (you keep telling yourself that bub). in short, he's defiantly a bit touchy in public, like in the way that he always has an arm over pav and gayatri's shoulders, likes when they where his clothes, kinda lurks behind them a bit. pav is a little clueless to it, he just thinks hobie likes being near them, which he does, but gayatri who is also a bit possessive over her boys, assures him that everythings fine. pav rarely gets jealous, but, when he does, particularly at hobie's shows where everyone wants a piece of him, or within his community where everyone's got little crushes on gayatri (cause who wouldn't?) its bad (within the bounds of not being toxic of course), he's quite aggressive, cause those are his partners thank you very much.

the boys chug their respect women juice and are like lovesick puppies for gayatri. like, they don't fall into icky stereotypical trope of "ones dominant and controlling of the other two" or the hierarchy trope, but if anyone had to be the designated "in control" person of the throuple, it would be her, if that makes sense. in all honesty, its just the boys being willing to do anything and everything for her, and trying to beat each other in a playful competition of who can be more of a gentleman, that just makes it seem like she's calling the shots. she plays into them, but its clear to all of them that they're all equal and equally in control of the dynamic.

only time hobie will use labels is when he's talking about his partners.

gayatri likes late night dates, just watching the stars or watching a movie, the night time has always felt like it her time, so she likes to share it with her boys.

hobie is a lovesick fool and rights songs about the two. he also just makes them little crafty things, cause he no doubt knows how to sew, so anything from clothing, little plushes, or patches, etc. cause he likes giving gifts, hates capitalism, so he makes them himself.

pavs love language is words and parallel play, like he just likes to sit and talk and talk and talk, but in such a nice way that even the least talkative of people enjoy his company.

serving their communities is also their idea of a good time, from anything like helping out at community kitchens, feeding strays, to just spending the day with family helping out.

I know hobies a family favorite, he's respectful and kids love him, so he's always welcome around pav and gayatri's family.

gayatri knows they're both spidermen and that hobies from a completely different dimension, it was really hard to hide from her.

its hard to keep secrets from her in general, the boy swear she has a spidey sense, cause even stuff like planning dates or gifts is impossible to keep under wraps, and they've tried so hard.

pav is the most "traditional" lover, playing into every trope known to man, from red roses, to fancy restaurant dates.

gayatri's not super "traditional" but doesn't mind swooning her lovers/being swooned over; hand made gifts/food, love letters, poetry, etc. she likes things that come directly from the heart. this also includes quality time where she can do her boys' mehndi or makeup, spending time cuddled up together, gossiping, cooking (I know she's a food girl, but not your typical sweet tooth person, she's more a fan of savoury things), etc.

hobie, is surprisingly kinda, in a way, "traditional" when it comes to romance; he's a very proper and respectful gentleman while also remaining very punk and against the system/binary/etc., so he takes them both out dancing, gets them both flowers and jewelry, offers his arm(s) to them when they're walking together, pulls out their chair and opens doors for them, etc. some people are shocked that he doesn't have an "odd" idea of romance, but pav and gayatri aren't at all, cause he does do other things, like take them to punk concerts, teaches them to mosh, make them part of his "band" in one way or another (honestly they're just there, looking pretty or something, they much prefer to watch), gets them into punk music, etc. he just likes the softer, more main stream ideas of romance, sue him, he hates consistency, maybe mainstream isn't all bad all the time.

they will stockpile jokes just so they can tell each other them at the end of the day. thy

hobies the best listner of all times, he just looks at them with those heavy, love dazed eyes, and plays with their hair or their hands, or just watches their expressions change, cause he's just so down bad its not even funny.

they're all the type to do the whole; points out a feature "I love this" points out another feature "and this" points out a feature the other is insecure about "and especially this" type thing.

hobie and gayatri love horror movies, and while pav is easily jumpscared, he can sit through them, he just gets annoyed by cliches, to the point that he will rage quit a movie and leave the two of them to finish it, though he does have a weakspot for slashers that play into the cliches and have some level of comedy, he enjoys those. (I hate the, "pav would be terrified of horror movies" thing, I just can't see it, he would just get mad when white people are constantly doing something stupid)

gayatri has made it a rule that even if they get checked out at the HQ's medbay, they need to come see her and get looked over/patched up after missions.

both pav and hobie are aware of the danger she's in a their lover while both of them are spiderman, and are always a little on edge, cause they know she could be either of their canon events.

thats all I got for now, but I love these three, so there will most certainly be more at some point.

[recreationalfanfics]

Loki w a Krul Tepes! Reader

She could literally step on me and I'd say thank you-

BUT ALSO, LIKE, I NEEDED TO WRITE THESE DOWN REAL QUICK BECAUSE I'M OBSESSED W KRUL SO READER BEING SOMEONE WITH HER MANNERISMS AND MAYBE HER IMMACULATE SENSE OF STYLE. And Loki being down horrendously.

- While you might not have been a God, you were still a powerful ally to have in the battle against humanity and by that, you were going to protect humanity...After all, you and your people needed the livestock

- This is not the first time he's met you and he's very much convinced that you two are soulmates. Even though it's quite obvious that he kinda annoys you. He reminds you of a certain white-haired progenitor sometimes

- Although you wouldn't deny that when he isn't trying to disrupt your work, you've found his company enjoyable and entertaining in the past and he helped take your mind off of your duties when they felt too stressful.

- Ah, but then Ragnarok showed up and while you detested humanity and their cruelty towards you, you still sadly relied on them to survive so now you stand against the Gods and fight for humanity.

- "You know, you don't HAVE to rely on humanity, you can just drink my blood~" Loki purred, once more trying to convince you to change sides. You rolled your eyes and smiled, "You seem to be forgetting about the REST of my people who need humans to drink from."

- "Think of it as a plus! You wouldn't have to be so stressed and you'll have more time to focus on me!"

- You just walk away while trying to hide your amused chuckle from the God of Mischief.

- PLEASE, HE ABSOLUTELY LOVES TO MESS WITH ARUKANU. He'll steal your little bat creature and either threaten it playfully like how he does with Odin's birds to get your attention or he'll just be all: "If you wanna give it back, you'll have to give me a kiss~"

- Then the next thing he knows, he's on his knees and you're standing behind him, his head turned back and his violent eyes looking up into yours as your sharp nails threateningly yet gently dig them into his throat, warning him that you could rip his head off in a second.

- It's so exciting~

- NO BUT HE DOES GET JEALOUS OF THE MORTALS YOU DRINK FROM. They have the audacity to complain or look fearful and ungrateful (you don't even kill them or take too much from them) when Loki gets shivers at the very thought of you sinking your fangs into his neck.

- UGH, HE LOVES SEEING YOUR FIGHT. The God you go up against was doomed from the start, he knew that from the get go. Especially when they started to mock you and say things like: "Go back underground, little Queen. Just because you're stronger than humans doesn't mean you compare to us GODS!" and it made Loki laugh.

- "What's so amusing, Loki?"

- "Oh, nothing, Lord Zeus.~ Just the fact that I sadly think us Gods are gonna take another loss." He answers, not seemingly to upset at the idea as he watches the irrated look on your face from the words of the arrogant god.

- He also gets a thrill from how sneaky you are♡ No one else truly knows what you're thinking, not even Loki himself, and the fact you were willing to betray and turn on anyone made him absolutely certain you two were meant to be.

- When you actually decide to get into a relationship, no one knows if its because one of you are manipulating the other or if it's genuine love.

- Also, you're the only person he genuinely respects, yes he will tease you but if he's causing a fuss and you tell him to stop, he'll smile and immediately fly over to follow you like the lovesick puppy he is.

- And it is genuine love, just a twisted version of it.

- He is aware of your weakness to the sun without your UV band, so let's say that a God wants to get even with you and tries to rip it off, Loki will literally grab their hand and smile at them but there is only rage in his eyes as he's all: "I wouldn't do that if I were you~"

- People don't think you guys care about each other but if your UV band somehow broke, Loki using his cape to shield you and you're surprised but you thank him. AND THEN HE WRAPS HIS ARM AROUND YOU TO HOLD YOU CLOSE AND IF YOU TRY TO PUSH YOURSELF OFF OF HIM, HE'S ALL: "ah, ah! I'm just making sure my vampire queen is safe♡ I would hate to see you burn up." and you give up and let him use this as an excuse to cuddle you.

- And if a human talks badly about Loki, you just smile at them menacingly before being all: "Hmm, he may be a bit childish but watch the way you talk about him. He is still my lover after all."

- NAH BC AS MUCH AS HE WANTS YOU TO BITE HIM, HE WILL BITE YOU TOO. Like, just love bites that take you off gaurd and he chuckles as his teeth gently sink into your neck but then you sigh and pat his head.

- He's such a needy lover but you suppose that's what makes him endearing.

[mask-of-prime]

Mufasa: The Lion King - My Thoughts!

|||||| SPOILERS AHEAD!! ||||||

Gonna start with an anecdote that's outside of the movie: The guy in charge of showing the movie forgot to turn the lights off for, like, the entire Ngomso sequence and a bit of Simba's speech, reminds me of the time when I went to watch the Remake and the guy left the 3D filter on for the first ten minutes, my brother went up to have the guy fix it, and the guy had to start the movie over so we had to listen to Circle of Life again and everyone just, like, clapped?? (Yeah I know "everyone clapped" lol, but I do really mean it).

Things I Loved:

They made sense of Remake Scar's incel tendencies in this movie: As heir of Obasi, he was forced to spend most of his time with the males to learn the ways of being king, and is in turn cut from contact with the lionesses during most of his rearing. This leads to him knowing nothing about girls, and Obasi's paranoid, irrational, and lazy teachings play into Taka's entitled attitude, thinking that he can just snatch up a brand new brother and brand new queen whenever he wants.

"This is MY kingdom! MY destiny!" hits VERY different now: Now that we know Scar couldn't let go of his old destiny that his parents promised him. I used to think Scar was just being outright delusional from being cornered by Simba, but it all makes sense, now.

They made sense of Remake Sarabi's stubbornness to leave Pride Rock: A main point of the movie is centered around her and her newfound squad finding a safe paradise to flee to as Kiros claims all the land outside of it. She worked hard to find and establish what is now the Pridelands, so I totally get Remake Sarabi's insistence in not leaving it behind.

They were able to actually tastefully make Taka's descent to villainy sympathetic and understandable: The buildup of losing his whole pride, being forced to leave his kingdom, Mufasa (rightfully) earning Sarabi's love, and being very harshly not forgiven by Mufasa after leading Kiros' pride to Milele and hesitating just too long to pull Mufasa out of the water had all gotten to Taka. I feel he was so easy to turn to such drastic measures due to his entitled incel upbringing. He was even an emotionally driven troublemaker from the start, I think, even Cub Taka gave me sociopath vibes because his chipper attitude just felt so off and disconnected.

This is the only other TLK film outside of the original where I truly felt like they drew things from biblical stories: The original is known for its outcast prophet characters, supernatural encounters, and being ousted from one's home. M:TLK brings that long-lost element of TLK back by involving ancestors going through the same journey of being portrayed with prophet complexes (Mufasa and his incredible sensory aptitude, feeling like an outcast, feared that he would overthrow the king/Rafiki being viewed as an outcast, his supernatural visions, only understood by his... mother? idk who Junia is, really, but she's kinda Mary in the point I'm making :p).

I loved Kiara's ahead-of-her-age inquisitiveness and mature, open-minded outlook of the world. It did what I saw in her original 2D counterpart justice.

I loved how much Obasi was a parody of IRL lions. Every time I click on a lion video, I'm always seeing people hype it up like "Yeah the badass king of the jungle doesn't take shit from no one, what a chad" and it's just some lazy lion stealing food from his lionesses who did all the hunting thinking he earned it after a long day of sitting on his ass. But yeah I expected Kerchak vibes from Obasi, but I instead got more of a Pa Nguyen vibe. Yes, his parenting played a big part in Taka's incel nature and eventual infamy, but he ended up being an unexpected comic relief at times. I've never really seen much of that, before.

I loved how Rafiki got a backstory at all. It actually really reminded me of a headcanon I had for 2D Rafiki in the works long before seeing this movie. idk when or if I'll make art of it, so I'll say it now: I've had this headcanon based on Rafiki's inaccurate design that he's half-baboon, explaining his long tail and lanky build. I was gonna have him be mistreated by his mandrill troop for having baboon features.

Loved the clear message of "It's not where you came from, it's what you become.". Sure, it describes Mufasa's ascent as king, but I also see it describing Scar's descent into an ostracized member of the pride.

What I Didn't Like:

Everything felt really fast and choppy. Dialogue was exchanged at breakneck speed and the characters would move around and make all these faces SO frequently and abruptly. Scenes and exchanges that I felt were needed to pace scenes out and build emotional investment were not there, so there would be SO many skips between major events, as if this was more about getting the impactful action parts out there instead of anticipating them.

One example of that is that They jump right into Mufasa's cubhood with his parents, then they immediately break into song, and then BOOM the flash flood takes any potential heartfelt dialogue right out that it almost feels comical.

Another is the very much missing backstory of Kiros' pride. There was too quick of an introduction to them and they generally hardly show up in the movie. I expected Kiros to be the absolutely main, memorable, classic Disney Villain, but he instead just shows up to every place the group is hiding and sends everyone to a panic. His son Shaju NEVER speaks nor has an established dynamic with his father, let alone show up for more than 30 seconds. And the pride as a whole has MUCH less screentime than I'd hoped. The pride taking such a backseat to everything else makes me realize that there's way too much else to focus on.

I'm not saying I really want to see gore or anything, but something was missing about the Outsiders' takeover of the Shade Tree pride, like everyone who ran away from the pride just assumes absolutely every lion is dead. There's just no knowing if any Shade Tree members who were capable of holding their own actually got out, or if the entire pride went extinct. For "realistic documentary" movies, they really hold back on violent/frightening scenes.

There's this scene where Mufasa finds Afia alive and it feels a little like those memes I've seen where people try to cope from traumatic death scenes in media they watch by making shitposts, like "Yes I've been alive the whole time and so is your father and best friend and we were all hiding the whole time because of this and that!".

Sarafina was said to be present in this movie and it's not clear where, not only due to her name not being spoken at all, but the Novelization makes it harder. It's unknown of the lioness Sarabi speaks to at Milele is Sarafina, or even a totally different lioness who happens to have that name.

Kiara's little brother at the end of the movie does not have a name, and I just know Disney was trying to fuck with people's heads with that one lol. Every new generation of TLK media needs to start that Kopa/Kion fight back up, it's only tradition.

A lot of these problems mentioned above remind me of the issues I ran into in Season 2 of Arcane, where there's too little dialogue in too fast of scenes in favor of numerous songs (ngl sometimes inappropriately) and random introductions taking up the screentime.

Also Some Things I'm Neutral About:

Taka's scar origin technically can be stitched together with the Remake's implied origin story. Originally, I thought he directly got it in a fight with Mufasa over Sarabi, buuut... Yes, Taka somewhat gets it for challenging Mufasa over Sarabi, but indirectly: Instead, in his effort to challenge Mufasa by sending the Outsiders after him, he takes Kiro's strike meant for Mufasa to the eye in an attempt to save him.

There's these characters named Inaki, Mobo, and Mosi and I don't know which animal is which, which makes art frustrating. I take it Inaki and Mobo are baboons from what I'm getting of the latest Wiki update? And Mosi's, like, the one buffalo that talks?

[odocoiileus]

Hi! Could I get some Eddie x Reader angst? Preferably afab/female reader. The angst is up to you!

pairings: eddie munson x afab! reader

warnings: angst to eventual comfort, brief heartbreak and jealousy, usage of curse words, usage of feminine pet names (princess), mentions of dealing, reader has a fear of being abandoned and is an asshole, eddie's also an asshole kind of (less than the reader). reader has symptoms of a personality disorder if you squint.

a/n: sure thing, anon! enjoy this angst. reader is of age.

you were never the most emotionally stable. you had emotions that were more intense than most. anger felt like fire, sadness felt like you were dying, being normal felt like numbness. most of all, you had a horrible, debilitating fear of abandonment. you weren't sure where this stemmed from — your parents were present in your life. nobody major in your life had ever left you.

despite this lack of reason for such a fear, you find yourself practically shaking in eddie's trailer. your hands tremble, your heart beating against your chest painfully. he's talking about one of his customers again, who he seems to talk about all the time. your brows knit together, a whirlwind of emotions taking place inside you. most notably, anger. and right now? you felt like you were being burned alive.

"yeah, I mean, she's awesome! probably one of my favorite customers. always pays more than what I ask, kinda like a tip. great, right, babe?" eddie rambles, taking a moment to look at you sitting on his couch. he notices the disturbed expression on your face and his smug grin drops, hurrying over to sit beside you. "hey..uh, what's up, princess?" he asks, voice as smooth as butter, soft as cotton. he places a warm hand on your shoulder. and normally, you would want to lean into his touch, wouldn't be able to stop yourself from swooning over him. but right now, you can't help but feel your anger build up more, consuming you like a horrible monster.

"her! and you!" you spit out, scowling at him as your anger finally spills out. "all you do is talk about her, eds! I mean, we can't even have a normal fucking conversation without you bringing up how great she is..all she does is smoke!" you didn't know what his obsession with her was about, but there was only one thought in your mind. only one reason. he must like her, he must have a crush on her, he must love her. it's irrational, but right now it makes sense. you feel like clawing your skin off. you're oblivious to the shock and hurt on eddie's face. "you like her, don't you? like, like like her." you accuse, gritting your teeth as tears swell in your eyes.

eddie's puppy dog eyes narrow just slightly, his brows furrowing. his mouth, once agape, is now in a deep frown. "no! I don't like her like that..you know that, you're just being dramatic. stop being so insecure." he scoffs, taking his hand off your shoulder to cross his arms over his chest. you feel as though you've been shot at the 'dramatic' comment. a lump forms in your throat, you suddenly stand up with a bark of sarcastic laughter. "I'm dramatic? fine! since I'm so dramatic, I'm going back to my house! call me when you get over the obsession you have with your customer!" before eddie can say anything else, you're already out of the trailer, slamming the door behind you.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

hours had passed since the argument – the sun had set, the night sky illuminated by the moon. you were curled up in your bed, buried under copious amounts of blankets, wallowing in your pity. you felt horrible, guilty, mostly you felt like an asshole. you were an asshole. it was always like this - after your outbursts, you always felt guilty, but in the moments they happened..you felt like you couldn't control it.

with a heavy sigh, you drag your hands down your face. "great going.." you grumble to yourself. a sudden clonk catches your attention, eyes darting over to your window. there's a second clonk, before you realize that it's a rock hitting your window. oh, god. that could only mean one thing. eddie.

scrambling out of your bed, you open your window and look outside, spotting the brunette. "eddie.." you mumble. the metalhead looks just as sullen as you do, if not worse, as he maneuvers his way onto your roof and to your window. subsequently, you move out of the way so he can crawl into your bedroom. the second he's standing firmly, he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug.

finally, you break the silence. "I..I'm sorry, eds. I shouldn't have acted that way..I..just," you start, voice wavering. your hands find themselves on his chest. "..felt like you like her way more than me or somethin', stupid I know..I'm sorry." you say, feeling the lump form in your throat again. you will yourself not to cry. it proves to be unbelievably difficult once eddie speaks up.

"I'm sorry, princess. I promise you, I don't like her like that..I never would, I got you and you're..totally metal, 'kay? I just got excited since I've never had someone repeatedly come back to buy stuff." eddie speaks, and you're able to pinpoint a small crack in his voice, the way he squeezes you just a bit tighter. "i'd never replace you, never..just..just believe me, okay? I love you. I shouldn't 've called you dramatic." he whispers and you swear his voice shakes like he might also cry. you nod, blinking away tears. "I love you too, eds."

you pull away from the hug to look up at him, heart shattering at the sight of his brown hues glistening with tears. "I'm a total asshole." you huff, forcing out a giggle in hopes it'll lift the mood. you see eddie perk up just a little bit. "..come lay down with me?" you ask hesitantly, a smile appearing on your face when you see eddie's own as he nods.

[starchaser45]

JJ eating Cheetos: so they did it to you too huh

Lila :yep, they summaries my whole complicated character to an unnecessary love triangle so that the male lead who was my best friend can have a love interest * fully sends a shot*

JJ: same but mine was kinda worse he was also my kids' godfather and it didn't even do anything or go anywhere other than confuse him it's was totally pointless none even knew about it it just made things awkward for literally no reason

Lila : wanna hear worse this whole thing blew up in front of my entire family my kids included his siblings including my husband

JJ*gasp*: no you were married to his brother

Lila: yep and it was a great love story that they ruined for no reason like I was still in love with my husband too I mean I fell in love with five for survival

JJ: totally understandable, his name is five?

Lila: stop interrupting me

JJ: sorry

Lila: anyways he genuinely fell in love with me so he got his heart broken cause I didn't choose him so I broke both of their hearts and relationship basically and yk the kicker this bullshit was never resolved we all just fucking ceased to exist

JJ: Jesus Christ you all just fucking died

Lila : nope ceased to exist it's like we were never there we never existed

JJ: fuck I feel like in owe my writers an apology , nah

In another room

Reid*holding his coffee *: so you really couldn't stay in a timeline where there was other people

Five*holding his coffee*: stop scolding me I don't even know you

Reid: ik you're stupid, like you couldn't have told anyone

Five: none of them would have understood

Reid: but Lila did why couldn't you go alone or take one of your siblings let Lila copy your power so if something happens she could get you instead of going with zero knowledge

Five: we didn't think of that we wanted to be discreet

Reid: but why it makes no sense it's completely irrational and I find hard to believe that you would do that considering last time you did it you ended up lost in an apocalypse

Five: the writers decided that I shouldn't think ig

Reid: god I hate when they do that so another character could shine

Five: nope that didn't happen

Reid: what

Five: they kinda ruined all of us and then killed us off sorry wrote us off as if we never existed

Reid: Jesus poor Diego he losses his wife and brother then gets killed off

Five: hey you're not better than me you fell in love with a married woman too

Reid: oh yes I am and I didn't fall in love with her more like old feelings resurfaced and was managed quickly I didn't cheat on anyone it just made thing a little awkward*sips his coffee "

Five: lucky asshole *sips his coffee "

Reid : eguh that's really bad coffee

Five: yeah it sucks

Reid: not worse than you tho

Five: hey!!

I just love how JJ is like super invested and Reid is like you dumbass there was literally 10 other better ways to do this 😭

I might actually make more of these with different characters this is so much fun 🦦

[princess-of-the-corner]

I know we discussed it before but Akuma really are depressing/horrifying when viewed from Chloe's perspective cos like.

Off the cuff, her Akuma are among the more self aware and self possessed variety. Anti-Bug is basically just Chloe hopped up on magic juice and extra pissed off. She's not even utterly dominated by some irrational fixation like Dark Cupid, let alone having been rendered barely sapient like Horrificator does to Mylene.

In this regard, Nathanial being so... Well Nathanial, would also reinforce this stance to her as far as personal agency goes.

But then you add in that people can resist them, that she resisted and every Akuma suddenly comes off more like an intentional choice. Which puts the students who tried to kill her, which puts the mother who did kill her her, and the father that tried to render her a brain dead sycophantic toy into a stark and horrifying context.

How do you cope with that?

Especially as someone who is feeling increasingly isolated, like vulnerability is a huge issue and struggles to communicate in general. Treating Akuma like no big deal and Akumatizing over stuff like soccer becomes a lot more logical in that context. Because if you treated Akuma seriously, you'd have to face something far worse.

Yeah like.

I think her view on the whole 'resisting Akumas' thing is also one of the things that stems from pre-existing Trauma™ in that

This was something that she did struggle with initially until she kinda gave up on truly ressting if that made sense? Like she failed to resist Antibug or Queen Wasp, but she overcame it with Miraculer and then after that she's compartmentalized the trauma and all Akumatizations after were a 'choice' to give in.

And there's two things at play:

1.) the 'this trauma is going to happen whether I want it to or not, so my choosing to engage in it it's my choice therefore I'm not a 'victim' thing.

and

2.) According to everyone around me, things that should be simple are things I struggle with because I'm so fucking Unexceptional™ and it's easy for everyone I'm just a moron making things difficult for myself. So clearly since she /can/ resist but it was a struggle, that means it's probably easy for everyone else and they choose not to.

tbh I really need someone to say 'hey even if you think you're willing, you're very much not, but also it's super hard to resist Akumatization /especially/ when you're still mid-despair'