#not like. active abuse or anything. they’re just Alone and it Sucks
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@yaminobean
Ofc!! I would love to share this silly lil au!!
As is the nature of such things, it actually started out as background plot contrivance to explain why Papa would be out of town in a human fantasy type au causing Brainy (his former student, and curse breaker+healer by trade) to be the Royal Mage in his stead while Papa investigates the Cursed Dolls attacking a tiny village.
The general bg setting for this au is that everyone is humans, it’s Vague RoFan magic kingdom setting where Willow is the queen (and a talented magic user in her own right), and for (handwave) reasons Smurfs and humans thousands of years ago crossed species and now all da Smurfs and everyone else reincarnated into humans. Because of the fae ancestry of the kingdom, pretty much everyone goes by a public name (a plant/nature or a witch-given name like classic village smurf names) as well as a more personal name (like gargamel!!!) only told to family and lovers, and middle name told to no one bc True Names Dangerous for magic. Living dolls only have that public name bc they don’t have souls to ensnare with the true name magic.
Anyway, onto the actual Juice of what’s happening with Sassette and Scruple
Gargamel (known publicly as Carver bc of his carving and sculpting skills with tiny clay things and cages I’m Running With It for this au) is a sickly doll maker living in a rundown shack on the outskirts of a tiny village near the wild edge of the kingdom. He lives alone with his old familiar Azreal, and his orphaned nephew/apprentice, Scruple (stringer for this aus sake, but him n gargamel know each others private names and so will sassette/papa/rest of dolls).
He hasn’t been in the best of health for years, grudges against the world boiling within him, against the lover that left when he began experimenting with bringing life to his dolls (Papa) and took his desired place as royal mage, the three dolls that refused to do his bidding and take over the kingdom, the family that had more loved for each other than ever for him, the kingdom that never had a place for him.
The only things in his life still with him as his health went downhill were the young nephew he was never able to truly have a good life with, his beloathed and beloved familiar despite all the shedding on his black robes, and of course- his work. Towards the end he tried to make one last doll, one to take care of young scruple when he passed, a caretaker made to be a few years older and wiser that could be a true companion for him.
Unfortunately, dying grudges don’t need to be consciously set to sink into clay as it’s worked, and the almost finished doll with the same red hair, the same dark freckles and pale skin and green eyes that Scruple found his uncle’s body laying over was cursed even before Gargamel took the last breath.
When he died, the magic keeping his familiar alive died with him. His living dolls out in the world felt a twinge of something- but Smurf (private name Ettie, smurf being an ancient word for magic Just Run With It) was busy as a barmaid with her peaceful life, Vexy and Hackus with Trying and Failing to be roaming bandits. That twinge, that snap of strings above their head- it wasn’t something for the twins to care about, and Smurf mentioned it idly to Papa and thought no more of it. Perhaps she had just walked through a spiders web! Her senses even now could be a little dull, that’s probably it.
With Gargamel and Azreal dead, Scruple was… alone. What was he to do? Too young to set out on his own, despite his threats of such while his uncle was alive. Too young to know how to reach out for help to an already struggling village, half abandoned as all those with prospects had already left to better places. Too young to try to dig that hole by himself, hands blistering on the shovel, too young to try and sort through the papers gargamel left behind… notes on a project. A doll, one meant to be Sassy, someone to look after things… even in his notes, Gargamel couldn’t make his care clear.
Scruple knew how the living dolls worked, had read his uncle’s work on them, knew how loathed but powerful they could be, affronts to the living nature of things but.
He was so young. And the hole was still so shallow, and his hands hurt, and all the doll needed was stringing before he could dunk it into the potion…
Sassy came to life at sixteen, a thirteen year old with scratched and bloody hands sleeping on a bed meant for a larger man, and she hated this world.
She did not hate her little brother though. How could she? Just as Gargamel unconsciously poured his hate into her, he also poured beaten down and buried love, love which Sassy didn’t know to hide.
She buried the creator she unconsciously hated for leaving his work undone, the cat who followed his master, and wrapped her brother in arms warm with magic like they’d just come from the kiln.
In the days to follow, she would raid the village. In the days to follow, she would take any scraps useful back to Scruple, convince him to eat, to keep going. The two of them just bitter children, she’d help him with clumsy hands to sculpt more dolls, Pat his back and laugh it off when none of them had the same living spirit she did- even if they weren’t alive, they could still follow his orders! That’s good enough, right!
In the days to follow, Papa would follow the trails of an old lover, find out about a tiny village where hope went to die, where the only moving bodies now were shambling cracked clay and a young pair with red hair and green eyes. Sassy would look at him, and find an odd mix of loathing and relief, something in her knowing right away that this man could take care of her brother. He would break the grudge cursing her, would take the two back after destroying the cursed dolls rampaging, he would care for them…
But for now Scruple dreams, and watches, and his hands sting with string linked to a hundred faulty dolls, while the last wishes of a bitter man combs through his hair and tells him she’ll look after him.
—
Bonus related art:
This au was totally meant to be a funny rofan roommates thing where Brainy and Hefty are unwed men living in a dorm in the castle and oh noooo they’re sharing a room kyaaa
Smurfette’s rough design! She has doll limbs in this au, so covers up. Gargamel designed her based on Papa in this au too, so she’s still fat lil black sheila. Tbf, more of her friends and loved ones already know she’s actually a living doll, including the Queen??!? But. Like. She’s so lovely.. she ain’t evil, they’ll let this one affront to nature go. …and her siblings, bc vexy and hackus while terrible bandits are actually great at keeping their area of the woods free of actual bandits? This is Their Turf. Fuck you!!!
And of course, this piece of scruple going crazy go stupid do violence
#warning for character death and kids having an unpleasant time#not like. active abuse or anything. they’re just Alone and it Sucks
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hs reference like a flashbang aside, choosing a dave and rose excerpt activated something in my brain. (stan voice) it’s just like them. in a way
one is a certified journal writer mastering the arts of the horrors and homosexuality, while the other’s a comic drawing “”cool”” twin with a touch of big brother worship. ford a constant knowledge (light) seeker. stan and the motif of fire. the similarities obviously stop at the surface level traits but thats actually so funny
actually, i wouldn’t say the similarities are surface-level at all!
both ford and rose deal with the Horrors, yes, but there’s more to that. the reason they deal with them is for the same endgoal — obtaining knowledge. this even results in them both being taken advantage of a nigh-omniscient, devil figure (doc scratch vs bill). like you mentioned, she journals, but i’d also like to point out her walkthrough. kanaya reads her walkthrough, not knowing the identity of rose, creating an idea of her in her head, using it as a reference for her own journey… hey, doesn’t that sound familiar?
also, like, horrorterrors aside, you’re out of your mind if you don’t think ford would have a book called “grimoire for summoning the zoologically dubious”. like, title alone, that’s a ford thing.
like ford, rose thinks of herself as a character in a story, rather than just… a person (light player moment). she’s surprisingly calm about sacrificing herself to create the Green Sun, like how ford had resigned himself to being trapped in various hell dimensions, as long as that meant his dimension being safe from bill. also, they’re both nerds that are terrifyingly good at combat.
the rose-ford parallels aren’t shit compared to the dave-stan parallels, though.
they’ve both got a father that isn’t easily impressed, that pushes them to learn how to fight and how to fight well, who wears sunglasses 24/7. they both seem to have complicated feelings about their father, despite their father being shitty & abusive.
despite their detached appearances, both stan and save genuinely care for those close to them, and will do drastic things to protect them. becoming davesprite, dying for jade, actually just dying a lot in general (time player moment), and sacrificing himself for the Green Sun are just a few examples of this.
neither of them really want to do what they’re doing, either. dave doesn’t like time travel. it’s complicated. it’s scary. he’s afraid of his own mortality, and time travel involves a LOT of death. not just his own, either — if he fucks it up, he could end up killing literally everyone. but he does it anyways, because he has to.
stan hates science and math. growing up, he struggled in school, even with the smartest kid in school being his brother. but he still taught himself everything he needed to know to get the portal up and running — with only a third of the instructions. he did shit he hated, complicated shit he hated, for 30 years, because he had to. despite ford criticizing his recklessness, there’s not a single timeline where ford gets sucked into the portal and stan DOESN’T try to save him. and, just like how dave sacrifices himself for the Green Sun, stan’s willing to have his memory wiped for the sake of beating bill. sure, the Green Sun might’ve led to dave god tiering, but dave didn’t know that — just like how stan didn’t know his memory would come back.
they’ve also got the whole “i’m not a hero” thing, despite regularly doing heroic things.
(also, couldn’t find a gif of it, but ford calling stanley a hero both in the show after his sacrifice & in the journal)
also, just… read the aspect descriptions for light and time and tell me that isn’t ford and stan. especially time for stan.
…also, erm, fitting the themes of this blog, dave has… some stuff going on
also apparently davesprite and his rose may have gotten together according to the hs book commentary but i don’t own those and i can’t find an actual like. image or anything so don’t quote me on that lmao
#stancest#daveroxy#dersecest#really i could remove the last bit and have this be 100% gen#but then i couldn’t tag this as anythinf#cuz i don’t want this blog in any main fandom tags. so#daverose
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The Way to a Vipers Heart
You weren’t sure how your life became this way. For context, you're dead. Not living, unalive, not in the living realm, overall, cold body and heart not beating. How and why? To start, you’ll have to go to the life you had before, in which you were the sole heir of a wealthy family. That sounded good, right? Wrong. Your parents are not the best since they have high expectations of you being their child, and anything you do that doesn’t meet their expectations, they verbally abuse you. They expect a six-year-old to get a perfect score in math - middle school level math!? - when your six-year-old mind just wanted to play. Yeah, they’re delusional and narcissistic.
It wasn’t until you got older that you became aware of your situation, how unrealistic your parents' demands are, and how they clearly see you, their child, as an asset. And the cherry on top? The multiple assassination attempts on your life. You weren’t sure if they were rivaling families or companies, but at the age of ten, you knew you had to be cautious. If food or drinks were tampered with? You made one of the staff taste tests. If a maid tried to kill you in your sleep? Don’t worry, you have an alarm that will notify the guards. You can’t really rely on your parents since the last time you brought it up, they just said “Deal with it. You’re our child, so you should be able to handle it.”
Yeah, your parents were shitty.
You didn’t really have friends to play with or any extended family, and your parents made you watch documentaries of successful people or other educational stuff for your upcoming teachings to success. You had learned to dance when you were seven, but after obtaining an iPad, you discovered the world of dancing and music. You loved the varieties of dance styles, from contemporary to traditional and cultural dances from foreign countries, to some known styles such as salsa, waltz, and erotic pole dancing.
You had also used the Ipad to watch some non-educational videos when your parents weren’t home and you were alone. You were introduced to a colorful world of fun and creativity of games and gaming videos along with the drama side of news reports and Karen/Kevin activities.
You weren’t interested in pole dancing because it was sexual, you were just fascinated by the control and strength of the dancers, how their grip on the pole never faltered, and how they moved around the pole like a snake. It intrigued you. And when you were too tired to dance, you went to your other source of escape Twisted Wonderland. You didn’t know much about Disney since your parents found it ‘garbage’ in their words, but through the game, you had come to love the characters and development, the storyline, the lore of the game, and more.
Though, you think they should be called vampires instead since they seem to like to suck out the fun and common sense of people, plus, it’s an insult to people who are actually named Karen.
However, they weren’t enough to not make you wanna die. You didn’t have a stable adult figure to hold on to, and your parents didn’t seem to care about your well-being - well mental well being that is. You didn’t want to live this life. So the next and last dinner you had with your parents, you noticed one of the staff tampered with your drink. Again. But hearing your father drone on and on nonstop made you wanna end this. So with a dry and empty smile, you lifted the cup to your lips and downed the drink. In seconds, your throat burned and your guts were lit on fire, twisting in pain as you fell to the floor. Despite the pain, you smile wryly at your parents, seeing their expressions of fear as everything turned black.
You should’ve seen a light or something when you died, but instead, you felt your eyelids flutter open to a new environment around you. Granted, your body was still numb from the poison but you were able to open your eyes a bit. And the first thing to greet you was a roof made of sandstone, with intricate and elegant carvings that reminded you of one of those blocks from . . what’s that game called? Minecraft? You never played the game, but you watched some videos out of curiosity.
A few things caught your eye as you examined your surroundings groggily, the room wasn’t bare of decoration with a few posters, a lamp, a gramophone with a few discs near it, and a basketball. At your bedside was a statue of a tall man with a bearded goatee, a turban with a proud standing feather, and long robes. The man looked thin yet intimidating, as expected of the Sorcerer of the Scalding Sands.
Wait. . .why does that title sound-
“Jamil! You’re awake!”
As if by instinct, you turned to the young voice that sounded like a young boy. Your eyes met shining ruby irises that shone with tears, with dark tan skin that wasn’t as dark as the African race yet wasn’t tan like those overrated golden tan Greeks but rather dark in a sense of those Arabian people. The boy that looked around eight years old had short and choppy white hair - as in snow white type of white. His clothes seemed fit for a noble with luxurious clothing made of silk and golden trimmings, the bangles and pieces of jewelry he wore did nothing but show how much wealth he had. Though, the boy looked quite familiar. . .
‘Kalim’
Another thought that wasn’t your own voice as the body you were in let out an acknowledged hum. “Kalim, what are you doing here?” you had asked - no, the body you were in asked. The voice that came out of your mouth was young and definitely male, with a tinge of smooth silkiness in it. What did that boy call you?
‘Jamil,’ you realized. ‘As in Jamil Viper.’
‘How do you know me despite me not even knowing you?‘
Your fingers - no, Jamils’ fingers stiffened but Kalim doesn’t seem to notice. Jamil is still looking at the tearful Kalim, you’ll have to reassure him first before having this . . .explanation/discussion. You felt your consciousness take control of the body before you tried to comfort the young Kalim with a strained yet reassuring smile as you spoke, “You should go back, your father will not like it if you neglect your studies.”
Kalim, to your poor heart, only hiccupped a sob. “But, you got poisoned because of me!” A sniffle “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll be fine, just go or else your father will come here himself.”
Reluctant but obedient to his best friend, Kalim nodded before leaving the room. The moment he left, Jamil’s body immediately closed his eyes and you were in darkness once more. ‘Who are you?’ asked the depths of his mind as you stood alone. Then, out of the darkness, Jamil came towards you. He was young, around Kalim’s age, with short dark hair that was cut above his shoulders with a lone strand braided at his side and his signature bang that curved down to his chin. His skin was about the same shade as Kalim’s, a dark tan. His eyes were round almond-shaped eyes with bluish-dark grey eyes with thin yet finely shaped eyebrows. His face was scrunched into an expression of distrust and curiosity, a lone brow arched over his eye.
While you wanted to squeal at how cute he was, you knew this was no matter going gaga. This child is experiencing someone inhabiting - intruding - in his body and can’t understand how and why. You could feel the fear and confusion in his soul and mind, as expected of a child yet he tries to look strong. This was the last thing you expected, not only are you reincarnated in Jamil Viper but you’re also merged into one body with his soul. This scene feels familiar as if you saw a manhua with this exact set-up, but you can worry about that later, you have a child to explain to.
‘You know your thoughts and feelings are really easy to read.’ The young Jamil spoke, laced with a deadpan tone.
‘Your fear is also exactly hard to feel.’
Jamil huffed his cheeks at being caught, ‘Fair, but at least tell me who you are and why you are in my head.’
‘I will just relax first’
‘I am relaxed’
‘Kid, I could literally feel the uneasiness coming from your side.’
‘. . .’
After getting him to relax, you two now sat crossed legs in front of each other. You then explained your life before, your world, how you died, and how you have no idea how you got here. Jamil had scrunched his eyebrows at how your parents treated you, ‘Your parents suck, I can’t imagine my parents treating me like that.’
‘Wonder how that feels like,’
The boy giggled before shaking his head, ‘ That still doesn’t explain how you know me.’
Here’s the part where it could lead Jamil to an existential crisis and question his worth. ‘Yeah. . .about that. In my world, we have this mobile game - you know what mobile games are, right? Good. - Well, there’s this mobile game that’s called Twisted Wonderland - ‘
‘Why do I have a feeling that that game is connected to my world?’
‘Yeah, If I told you, your older self is one of the characters in that game in my world, how would you feel?’
The next moments of silence were torture as Jamil stared at you like a statue, his eyes dimming to a dull shade, but the emotions that were raging on his side of the mind were wild. They were muddled and mashed into something indecipherable, like a bunch of food colouring were put into the same water glass and swirled around to make this confusing and cloudy colour. The feelings were constricting in your throat, making you anxious and uneasy. You needed to calm him, and reassure him that his life isn’t a game.
‘I know it’s confusing, Jamil.’ You started, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. ‘But being here shows that your world isn’t a game, maybe it’s more complex than that.’
‘Complex?’
‘Meaning it’s not as simple. Maybe the games and shows in my world are like windows to other worlds and what we’re watching is just only a glimpse.’
The light in his eyes returned as he seemed interested in the theory, ‘That would be cool! Am I a cool character in your world?’
‘Kid, a lot of the players like you.’
Jamil let out a genuine smile before it fell as he widened his eyes, ‘I forgot to ask you for your name, how rude of me.’
Smiling at what innocence is left in him, you gave him your name. ‘So are we going to live in one body from now on?’
‘Seems that way,’
‘That’ll be hard.’ Jamil let out an adorable pout as he stared at the ground of his - and your - consciousness. You chuckled, ‘It will be hard, but I’m sure we’ll be able to do it.’
‘. . .All right, glad to be working with you.’
‘The feeling is mutual.’
During the next few days of your body recovery, you have gotten to know Jamil more and the world you’re in. It was still the Twisted Wonderland that you saw in the game, but with one difference.
‘You have alphas, betas, and omegas here!?’
‘Yeah, mama is a beta and papa is an alpha. I’m pretty sure Master Asim is alpha when I saw him last, and he has a harem of omegas. Which is kinda rare.’
‘Rare how?’
‘Omegas are rare from what mama and my teacher told me. A majority of the world is made up of alphas and betas.’
‘Really now, then what are you hoping to be, Jamil?’
‘Not sure, alphas are cool since they’re strong and they can command the area, but they have this thing called ‘rut’ and papa has it every once a month. . .it looks painful.’
‘What about omegas?’
‘They’re really pretty, papa and mama said that they have a sweet smell. But it’s kinda unlikely that I’ll present as one, and if I ever am one, being guarded twenty-four-seven sounds kinda annoying. Plus, they also have this thing called heat, not sure what that is but when they have it, they’re usually locked up in a room and won’t come out for a few days.’
‘I think you’ll learn about ruts and heats when you’re around ten or twelve, but I can teach you about those things.’
‘Really? Thanks! That’ll be helpful!’
‘No problem, so you want to be a beta?’
‘I don’t really see a problem with them, they’re okay. Mama is one and she doesn’t have any of those ruts or heats, so I’ll probably be one. Or I might be an alpha like papa.’
Yeah, you’re not in the original Twisted Wonderland. You’re in some alternate universe where A/B/O dynamics exist and secondary genders are the norm. But this isn’t a traditional omega verse, usually, omegas are seen as the lower class while alphas are the top-tier class. But in this omega verse, omegas are rare and seem to be treated more respectfully than alphas or betas. How peculiar.
When you and Jamil’s body were able to move without the effects of the poison, you were greeted with Jamil’s younger sister bursting through the doors and flinging herself on your body. Jamil’s body let out an oomph! before his - or yours since Jamil’s body is also your body as well - eyes looked down at a beaming Najma. “You’re finally better! I was starting to wonder if you’ll be stuck in bed forever!”
You let out a chuckle which the body mirrored as Jamil took control for the rest, patting his sister’s head before telling her to get off of him. Once Jamil managed to get his - perhaps also your sister as well - to leave, you managed to get out of bed and walk towards the vanity’s mirror. Upon taking a look at your reflection, you notice a difference in appearance.
It was a young Jamil’s body, of course with his short dark hair that was above his shoulders with brown highlights, his sharp eyes, and the baby fat present on his cheeks. What he wore right now was a long-sleeved shirt made of the lightest and softest material you ever felt with pants of the same material. The body wore sandals. But what caught your attention was the coloured circle that seems to surround the border of the body’s iris, a colour similar to your eye colour circling the dark grey irises like a gradient of some sort.
A jolt of realization followed by puzzlement let you know that it was Jamil. ‘That wasn’t there before. . . It kinda looks like your eye colour.’ He noted. Your blinking was reflected when the body blinked as well before Jamil leaned forward to examine his eyes. ‘Not gonna lie, looks kinda cool.’
You hummed as you took control for a second to walk out of the room, ‘I think it’s the result of us merging together. Since I’m in your body now, a part of my original appearance has to make it somewhere.’
‘Well, I suppose that would make sense, like putting together two bodies to make one body. Some characteristics of body number one will show while the rest of the characteristics of body number two will remain. Though, I don’t get why it’s only your eye colour.’
‘Perhaps it’s to not scare the people here, they would probably freak out when you go under a massive change of looks after a few days.’
‘I guess.’
From there, you watch and learn the routine that Jamil went through in his childhood, letting the young boy take charge of the body. The boy cooked the food with the rest of the servants - which you noticed were betas with few alphas - to your now employers, after that, the body went to make Kalim’s room clean. You had to hold yourself steady before you made a fool of yourself upon seeing the large and lavish room filled with shiny silk fabrics littered, a pristine white bed covered with a red blanket with golden trimmings. Jamil had given you an amused glance as he started his duty.
Throughout the day, you had gotten a sense of satisfaction as you felt the body’s fatigue but the satisfaction of a chore done before moving on to the next one. This is coming from a child that came from a wealthy family with servants. During his breaks, Jamil had shown you a clearing with his device which wasn’t a phone but something close to it with earphones. He smiled at you before looking around, ‘I think no one’s here, good.’
‘Are you hiding from Kalim?’ you asked the obvious, but just wanted humour.
‘Yeah, part of my duty is to keep Kalim company.’ Jamil had a pinched expression upon Kalim’s name, ‘But he’s so . . . annoying!’
You hummed in response, deciding to drop the topic for another time. ‘So what are we going to do here?’
Jamil’s expression brightened at the change of topic, ‘ I like to dance when I don’t have anything to do!’
A smile made your way at the word ‘dance’. ‘I love to dance!’
‘You too!? What kind of dance style? Street dance? Or is it the one that Kalim dances?’
‘I like to dance different styles. . .’
From there, you and Jamil exchange the types of dances that you know. Jamil had shown you the street dancing he talked about, the movement slightly clumsy but fluid and full of energy. When you took control of the body, you demonstrated the types of dances you learned from videos. The contemporary dances that you watched and showed you how they became successful. This dance is an interpretive dance that merges ballet, jazz, modern, and lyrical dances. From the videos you saw, the dancers were moving with the music, letting their bodies get swayed with the rhythm and tone.
By incorporating a bit of ballet and modern dance in it, you moved through the music as if you were trying to decipher what it was telling you.
When the high of the music and the body’s adrenaline and Jamil’s joy and excitement almost hit, a young voice shattered the world you were in. Jamil groaned within the confines of his mind as you made the body turn to see a beaming Kalim. “ Jamil, can I join you? You looked like you were having fun!”
You could feel the annoyance from Jamil’s side, so you decided to take control of the body till the boy cooled down. “ You could, but are you done with everything? Last I check, you had dance practice around this time.”
“The instructor caught a cold so I went to find you!”
The annoyance in Jamil grew and you had to refrain the body from twitching an eye in irritation. Jamil can’t really go against orders seeing his family’s position but compromising his comfort for Kalim’s is a bit of a problem. It’s one of the reasons why he went against Kalim in NRC. You need a compromise for this, Kalim is a nice boy and he sees Jamil as a friend so he wouldn’t mind adjusting for his friend’s comfort, right? You suppose the reason why Jamil didn’t really talk to Kalim about this is because of his subservient mindset and fear for his family. Still. . .
“Kalim,” you said, “Do you mind if you play with your siblings for now?”
“Huh?” Kalim’s smile dropped, “Why? Do you not want me here?”
You heard the slight panic in Jamil’s emotions before you spoke again, “It’s not that I don’t like you, but sometimes I want to be alone for a while so I go to places like here. To be by myself.”
Kalim had a look of understanding before smiling, “Oh, so you just wanted to be alone? Okay! Sorry, I disturbed your alone time.”
“It’s okay, perhaps next time I could play with you?”
“Yeah! We could play mancala!”
When Kalim left, it was you and Jamil alone. The young boy sighed, ‘That was reckless! Asking a master something like that is. . .reckless!”
‘But did he react badly?’
‘. . .No, I guess not.’
‘I know you’re not accustomed to asking Kalim things like this for your own benefit, but when you need it, I’ll take over and ask for you.’
‘That’ll be unnecessary of you,’
"We're gonna be in the same body for the rest of your life so might as well make myself useful.’
Yes, to avoid Jamil overblotting, you need to lessen his resentment and anger of Kalim and his position. But you know that with his family’s position as servants, that’ll be a bit difficult. But servants are also humans and have selfish desires as well, not all people are selfish and ready to serve after all. Perhaps while not trying to find a way to be free, since you’re still a child and you have a new family to think of, you can find ways for Jamil to indulge himself.
Jamil has shown to be smart and capable of many things and while the common mindset is that the master is better than the servant, there are a few exemptions on where the servant is better but the master can learn from this. Or, at least that’s what you’re thinking. Perhaps you can show-off Jamil’s skills while also having the Asim family benefit from it, kinda like showing the esteem and prestige of the family by showing the kind of servants they have in their household?
Although, that might be risky.
. . . Maybe you could teach Kalim to be more independent and capable, guide him to be at least a bit cunning and able to do things on his own. By doing that, you’ll be able to lessen Jamil’s load of work in the future.
“You want to help Kalim to be more independent?” Jamil repeated what you said, although sounding a bit ludicrous. It was night and the body was asleep, letting you and Jamil discuss what will happen in the future.
“Yeah, so that we won’t have to babysit him and we’ll have a lighter load.”
“But it’s a servant’s job to cater to the master’s needs and we have duties—“
“We can’t keep doing stuff for Kalim forever, he has to do things on his own. And since he’s the heir, he should learn how to be responsible. We can’t be there for him forever, there will always be a possibility of us dying and him being by himself. It’s like having a little brother or sister — minus the servant position — you teach them, show them how to be responsible and to take care of themselves, and let them learn from their own mistakes.”
“. . .I guess that’s not a bad idea.”
“Jamil, you’re human and right now a child, you should be able to enjoy some things you like without giving it up for Kalim.”
“. . .Okay, I’m glad you’re here with me now. At Least I have someone with me.”
You smiled in fondness as you ruffled his head, much to his childish indignation. “Happy that I can be of service.”
You were eight years old when you unexpectedly met Leona Kingscholar. Although you didn't know if this was a hidden fact from the game or the universe is going in a different direction, you were quite surprised to have met the young boy at a Spelldrive tournament between NRC and RSA. The Asim family got VIP seats due to their prestige and power and fame, so you had to come along since Jamil was Kalim’s retainer and bodyguard.
Although he hasn’t killed anybody yet.
---
I decided to make a fic of this and yes it has a/b/o dynamics.
next >>
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x jamil viper#jamil viper#a/b/o universe#reader reincarnated into jamil viper and now shares a body with him#gender neutral reader
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I can’t put my trigger warning earlier, so it’s here now, it’s also in the tags.
Basically, mentions of (child) sexual assault/abuse, no details but I know for my typical demographic that topic can be triggering. You have been warned.
I will also say this here before the post: I will not apologize for my stance on this topic, especially near the end of the post.
This is exactly what it is. Even if they don’t know they’re being abused— by which I mean they don’t know its going on at all. You may ask how they could possibly not know they’re being abused/that its happening to them, and thats a fair question. Honestly, I don’t know. I ask myself that question all the time. How did I didn’t know (it’s probably because of the DID.) I didn’t know that I was abused in my childhood until the summer before my senior year of high school. I didn’t know. I had no memories of it, I had nothing really to suggest I had been outside of small hints here and there, I was attempting to be sexually active but it just wasn’t working (not for interpersonal problems.) I was incredibly confused and feeling like I was broken. Then pieces started falling into place, and I finally understood what had happened to me, at least through the context clues and my randomly returning memory.
I don’t know what I would have done or thought had I not known what I was newly remembering was wrong. I live in the south, which did fail me in terms of sex ed, but they at least had the decency to have the “bathing suit area” talk in my elementary school. What happens to kids who don’t know it’s wrong? It becomes normalized and they feel incredibly icky with themselves, confused, hurt, frustrated, etc. Even worse, sometimes (not always, don’t worry!!), those who have been abused go on to be abusers themselves, and I think education like this is the best way to combat that as well. It’s worth mentioning because I know some abusers have been abused themselves, but don’t worry, this isn’t to fear monger or insinuate that you will be an abuser. Anyway, make it safe to speak up, and receive the care and healing they deserve as soon as they figure out what happened. To break that cycle. The victims, at any age, deserve safety and they deserve justice. They deserve knowledge.
Please continue to give them the words for it. Let them know that if they had been abused, that it’s not their fault. They don’t need to hurt or hide that information or feel like they’re horrible or terrible or any number of words for what happened. Let them know how to get help for it, how to cope with it, who to tell about it. Give them words and knowledge and anything that will help them.
If they get assaulted later in life, any of this knowledge can help them. Let them know what to do if they think their drink got spiked, let them know what to do if they did get raped and the process of what will happen, let them know what to do if their partner is abusing them. Let them know everything as a precaution. To be clear, this isn’t me suggesting that you tell all of this to kids, but teens and older teens especially. They might find themselves in sticky situations, and it sucks, but at least if they know what to do they’re not going to be lost and alone. That is incredibly important.
Even ignoring all of that, since for some the above won’t apply, education is also the best way to prevent STDs and teen pregnancies. No amount of ignoring that teenagers have sex is going to make them not have sex. The conservatives tried that, and they tried Jesus along with it. That only made the issue worse. More STDs and more teen pregnancies and more repression/shame. This is just a part of life. Teens will drink and have sex (hopefully not at the same time.) and they often will not listen to a word that their parents say regarding those things. They deserve preventative knowledge. At least if it’s talked about and explained to them, they know how to be safe and responsible.
Please don’t stop giving age appropriate sex ed to kids and teens. They deserve to know. They deserve to be safe. They deserve to be believed.
I'm not like Mad at anyone who does this and I'm obviously not in charge of how anyone else tags shit on their own blogs, whatever, but it's always bummed me out when my sex Ed posts get reblogged and tagged with 18+, minors dni, etc. personally I actually very much want teenagers to learn about their bodies and safer sex but I guess I'm just the guy who wrote the thing.
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hi star, it’s been a hot minute since i’ve sent you a message and i hope you’re doing well. i haven’t been active on tumblr much because of school and life but i saw that you’re taking a break from writing and i hope it’s doing you well! take all the time you need, of course! i’m gonna reread the works already posted because i missed you a lot.
anyway, how are you?? are you eating? drinking enough water every day? sleeping well?
oh also, little life update: *tw mentions of abuse and dv* remember that girlfriend i had that i was so madly in love with before i disappeared? yeah we broke up recently because…well…she hit me. i’m still very shocked but i also feel like in hindsight i should’ve seen this coming. we’d been having so many issues for a while before that where she really got a kick out of humiliating me in front of other people and just overall treating me like some kind of emotional punching bag and she just didn’t respect me as a person. i think i stayed because i refused to believe that i was being abused and because i’m not good with change when i’ve literally merged my entire life with hers. but before i knew she’d come visit to me and my family and we’d started the day fighting because we had to pick my brother up from his school and she didn’t want to and then she literally lifts herself off of her seat while driving and boom. even after all that i stayed with her for another month before she’d left and i was finally able to admit that she’s abusive. and it sucks. i’m so so so sad but at the same time i’ve felt this immense relief. anyway i’m switching to online college and staying home with my parents to recover and piece myself back together. sorry if this is heavy, after the breakup i realized she’d literally alienated me from all my friends so i didn’t know who to tell :/ you can ignore this tho.
anyway, ilysm and please take care of yourself!
HI my angel you’ve been so thoroughly missed !!!! I’ve been doing good 🫶 took a little trip from tumblr as a whole and I’m enjoying it so much more again I love chatting with u all and I missed writing so dearly. This is truly hell site sometimes but heavy emphasis on the sometimes bc most of the time it’s fucking phenomenal
Also oh my god?? First off are you OKAY now and are you somewhere safe??? I am so so so beyond sorry to hear this happened :( I was rooting for you guys so often and I’m sick to my stomach hearing things turned out this way. It’s made especially difficult when things begin to change and everything was so different before… but please know that this is in NO way your fault and you did nothing wrong at all. The way you spoke of her was always so beautiful and unfortunately people can just be fucking shitty at the end of the day. That in no way reflects on you or your ability to hold relationships or anything of that nature. I don’t want you to put yourself in any scenario of wishing you did better or differently. You were a remarkable partner and the rest was not in your hands.
TW here also *mentions of death*: I knew somebody who lost their life at the hands of a domestic abuser. It was very jarring and I still think of her every single day of my life. There was nothing she could’ve done to prevent it, but I’m really sensitive to these things and ensuring that ANYONE is able to get somewhere safe when they’re in these scenarios. Please reach out if you need anything at all, know that you’re not alone in this and that I am right there with you on this journey to healing. You can always call my discord if there’s some sort of emergency and you need to talk, or message me on here or whatever works best. But make sure you’re in a safe place and away from anything that puts you in harm’s way.
I love you so very dearly and I have no doubt you’ll find somebody much better down the line. Right now focus on yourself and do the things that you love, be kind to yourself and know that she isn’t worth any of your time, energy OR of receiving your love. I hope she finds it in herself to be better.
I love you sweet friend. Thinking of you always 💓💝🩷💘💖💖🫂
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cw : gore description , abuse i saw a take saying mental illnesses ( millnesses ) / neurodivergences ( gonna shorfen that fr later to nds ) / disabilities ( dabs ,,,,, im tired dont fucking try to fight me on this one ) : shouldnt get flags because nd people arent as oppressed as gay people first off you know the least oppressed group ? possibly in the world ? countries ! boats ! know what they have ? flags ! why do they have flags if they’re not homosexual , because as we all know : cloth inherently belongs to the faggots and if you wear clothes , pledge allegiance , or have blankets bed sheets rugs or plushies or pillows : you’re gay . go back to the mud , like a good heterogender cissexual . straightvestite . flags are to easily signal something from a distance . to easily communicate a message , sometimes a message that inherently needs to be secret . flags can also symbolize a sense of belonging and identity and similarity to someone else who is also able to recognize said flag from a distance and instantly know you are 1 : likelier to be a safe person , 2 : someone whose existence means they are not alone in a positive way . finally flags are used to show pride . You wear them proudly or wave them or display them , so that others can see , and that communicates the message that the thing the flag is in support of : is something you view positively , and regardless of what it is : you are able to feel brave enough to display it . in terms of country flags that fucking sucks by merit of : countries fucking suck . however if you had something you were told was sinful , or terribly horribly flawed about you : would you not want confirmation from others that it was okay for you to just exist ignoring the additional fact that a lot of lgbt+ people are mentally ill because of , oh i dont know , trauma from growing up hiding who we were plus people actively trying to harass if not kill us : do you have any idea the UTTER BULLSHIT neurodivergent people go through constant attacks on character and harassment JUST for adhd , lots of people treat the tism like a fucking plague , and getting diagnosed CAN GET YOUR HOUSE , CAR , DRIVERS LISCENCE , AND LITERAL CHILDREN TAKEN AWAY FROM YOU and OH BABY IF YOUVE GOT A STIGMATIZED MENTAL HEALTH CONDITION gaslighting , manipulation , and other abuses , all conveniently located at the only place you can get any mcfucking help for your symptoms . now there is no treatment that “ works “ for DID , frankly i would be absolutely terrified of anything that claimed it did , and would have no desire to conform to a society in which little dudes in brain : isnt accepted . you can have my little dudes over my cold dead body but DEAR , GOD . people have lost housing , been institutionalized and had their entire lives taken away , people have lost all sorts of things , the only reason you cant see it is that it happens right under your nose , all the time , and youre used to it . it’s acceptable to you that people wind up on the streets after a mental breakdown , it’s acceptable to you that people can’t get medication , and are thrown into danger because of it . the living hell of institutionalization is acceptable to you , you like staying in hospitals ? imagine that but forever until you die . it’s acceptable to you that people lose their stability , mobility , agency , self determination , and literal children . i could sit here all fucking day and go through some bullshit oppression olympics with you that doesn’t fucking matter because all of us were being burned at the stake in the olden days anyways and it doesn’t matter whose experiemce burning was less satisfactory ; and not feel the overwhelming urge to rip out its windpipe because it doesn’t belong to you . - or ! absolutely batshit concept ! you could look at a flag that helps signal to people they are safe , there are allies nearby , it’s okay for them to EXIST , there is nothing wrong with them , if they need help with a problem relating to whatever the flag signifies : they can talk to this person potentially , and theres a higher chance this person will know how to help and what information to pass along if the person does want to help , and you can go : i like being the bare minimum of adequate for a human being , and walk away .
#did#did community#did osdd#brain ghost#fusion#mashup#lgbtq#lgbtq community#LGBTQIA#2slgbtq#transrightarehumanrights#trans pride
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You Did This To Us - Bakugou Katsuki
Bakugou x f!reader
Warnings: ANGST, cursing, gore, implied sexual activity, infidelity, alcohol abuse, marijuana use, I’m just here to rip y’all hearts out, MDNI
Summary: It was a horrible battle against raging villains and he watched you, his loving wife of 6 years, get pierced right in front of him. It was traumatizing. Your days in the hospital sent him into depression, causing him to make the worst decisions of his life. Decisions he’s regretted the second he’s made them and decisions he’ll forever regret because of what it cost him.
BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST
He warned you not to come. No that’s not the right word. He begged you to sit your ass down at home where you would be safe. But of course, you were never that kind of hero. You could never sit on the sidelines and watch others fight a battle you knew you could at least try to help in. So with a heavy heart, he reluctantly allowed you to come. His first regret.
Because as the battle died down and victory was in sight, his world was thrown into chaos once more. The villains were down. The wind was settling. The dust was clearing. Katsuki could see you struggling to stand due to exhaustion but saw your smile nonetheless. He gave a breath of relief as he still saw you and jogged over to you. As he did, you noticed him coming your way and your smile only grew. Until it suddenly dropped, along with his own. Out of nowhere, a sharp, metal staff flew threw the air and pierced you right in the stomach. The sight was nauseating as Katsuki covered his mouth, truly shocked. He watched you in horror as you trembled before falling to the ground.
Katsuki looked behind him to find the attacker and saw some stupid, weak ass, good for nothing villain use the last of his power just to cause you harm. Then the world began to shake. No, that wasn’t it. Katsuki was violently trembling as he looked towards the bastard on the ground. Despite him being knocked out cold, that didn’t stop Dynamight from rushing over to him, grabbing him by the neck and blasting him. No one was around. No one would see. His job was safe. He could do this and have no repercussions whatsoever, so why not?
After the petty villain’s death, Katsuk used every ounce of strength in him to run to your body that had blood trickling down the side of your lips. “Y/N!”
You turned your head the best you could to find your husband sobbing his eyes out as he picked you up into his lap. He cradled your head and gently tapped your face, trying to keep you conscious. “Hey! Hey, you’re gonna be okay, alright?! You’re gonna be okay baby I promise.”
“Suki..I’m tired.” You whispered out in a weak voice. Hearing your words stabbed him through the chest.
“I-..I know baby. I know you’re tired. But- but you can’t go to sleep okay? Don’t go to sleep. You have to stay awake- stay alive! Okay?” He pleaded with you. He called out for a medic once he saw the flashing red and blue lights near the scene and held onto your body. He looked to you and saw your eyes becoming null and dense before firing back up again. You were falling in and out of consciousness. You were a fighter and you were trying to stay alive. It made him choke out a sad laugh. “You’re gonna make it, Teddy Bear, I swear.”
“….if I don’t make it-“
“You will, you idiot, don’t say shit like that!”
“But if I don’t…just- Ah-….just know I love you, Suki.”
Katsuki kissed your forehead before hugging you close. “I know, Y/N. I love you too. More than anyone, and more than you’ll ever fucking know.”
He noticed a small smile reach your lips before the medics came. Katsuki was quick to stand with you in his arms, careful and aware of the metal still pierced within you. He handed you off to the professionals who handled you with extra care. They brought you into the ambulance with Katsuki trying to follow in before being stopped.
“The fuck-“
“Dynamight, we can’t allow you to go in.” One said.
“And why the fuck not?! That’s my wife in there!” Katsuki shouted as he pointed to you.
“I understand, but her condition is severe. We can’t have anyone taking up space as we take care of her on her way to the hospital.” He explained.
“Taking up space?! Do you even know who you’re-“
“Sir, please. Let me do my job, let me save your wife’s life.” With that, Katsuki finally nodded in silence as he allowed the medic’s words to echo in his head. “Can you meet us at the hospital?”
Once again, a silent nod. With that, the medic was off and back to your seemingly lifeless body. Katsuki watched as he lead the team and perfectly directed them. He was sure that until you got to the hospital, you were in good hands. That was one guy he could surprisingly trust. He didn’t know him very well or at all for that matter, but he has Dynamight’s trust. Now Katsuki just had to head home and clean himself up before finding you again. Screw getting checked up. He knew his body. He knew he was damn well fucking fine.
—
As Katsuki opened the door to his house in a rush, he was quick to take a shower just to wash off the dirt and blood. He quickly hopped out and changed into some clothes before looking for his car keys. He found them at his nightstand along with the framed pictures of you and him. One on your wedding night and one celebrating your 3rd anniversary as a married couple. As Katsuki quickly looked through he pictures he smiled with a tear falling down his cheek. He looked around the room and took in all the pictures of you both that decorated your walls and tables.
You both were together since junior high. You were together for 10 years and despite being at the young ages of 23 and 22, he still decided to pop the big questions and propose. You said yes. It was one of the happiest days of his life, next to getting you to be his girlfriend, and meeting you in general. Forget the hero work, he’d trade it all if it meant he got to stay with you. You were always involved when it came to his happiest points in life. And now you were fighting for your life at the hospital. So with that, Bakugou wiped his tears and ran to his car, urgently trying to meet you at the building.
As he pulled up and parked, he pushed passed all the paparazzi and fans that surrounded the entrance due to news of you being there. You can assume how bad it got when everyone took notice of another pro-hero, and that pro being Dynamight no less, showing up. Despite all that, Bakugou forced his way in and made it to the front desk, demanding to know where you were. The poor lady at the desk had to deal with this explosive bomb, only to anger him even more by asking for his ID.
“Are you a fucking idiot?! Look at me! I’m Bakugou fucking Katsuki?! The number one pro fucking hero?!” He screamed at the poor girl.
“I’m- I’m sorry sir! It’s just protocol. H/N is a pro-hero, this is just what has to be done.” She shakily let out. Bakugou grunted before slamming his ID and Hero license onto the table. The lady nodded before handing him a piece of paper that had directions to your room.
Bakugou snatched it and gave her a scowl before running to look for you. Finally making it to one of the highest floors and down the longest hallways, he finally reached your door with 2 doctors already standing out in front of it. Bakugou tried to get through but they stopped him from entering.
“What?! What fucking now?!” He shouted as he stepped back to keep their hands off of him.
“Sir, they’re taking care of your wife just fine, but you have to wait here.” One of the docs demanded. With that, an argument bursted out between the pro and the doctors. The booming voices shook the building until a familiar voice was heard from behind the blonde.
“Dynamight, your wife’s in good care. I made sure my own wife was to be her head doctor.” Bakugou turned around to find the medic that stopped him from going into your ambulance there.
“It’s you.” He spoke aloud. The medic smiled before bowing.
“Daisuke Ena,” the medic said before standing back up straight. “Please trust me when I say your wife will be fine.”
“…and why should I?” Bakugou said after thinking for a minute.
“My wife is the one taking care of her. She is one of the best, if not the best, doctor in the prefecture. That’s not a biased opinion by the way, you can look her up. Daisuke Ami. I ensured it was her who was to see to your wife.” Daisuke said with a calm smile. After looking towards your hospital room, Katsuki turned back to the medic and nodded silently like he did before. But this time, he added a small ‘thank you.’
—
6 hours. Katsuki sat in one of the seats in front of your hospital room for 6 fucking hours only for them to tell him they cannot allow you visitors. You were in an unstable condition and so they sent Katsuki home. The news was heart wrenching. You always ran through Katsuki’s mind 24/7. He couldn’t stop it. But now, these thoughts were no longer happy and innocent, consisting of ‘damn, I miss her,’ and ‘I wonder what my girl’s doing right now.’ Instead they consisted of ‘Is she gonna be okay,’ and ‘she’s gonna come home, right?’ but most of all ‘I can’t lose her.’
Luckily for Katsuki, he became familiar with medical staff, Daisuke Ena, and was lucky enough to get his number. Daisuke gave him updates on Y/N. Usually, they weren’t so great but the hero appreciated the messages. The text didn’t help in uplifting Katsuki’s spirits though. If anything, they made them worse. In the beginning, Katsuki had hope that you would turn out okay.
But then a week passed.
And then another.
And then two more and before he knew it, you had already been in there for a month. This was the longest month of Katsuki’s life. It sucks to say but in the 13 years that you both have been together, he’s hasn’t done much alone outside of hero work. And even then, he would be lucky enough to work with you. It was always you and him together. Dates? Duh. Grocery shopping? Always you and him. Going for a walk? Why not? He loves spending as much time as he could with you. He loves you. But he hadn’t realize how dependent he became on your presence. In a way, you being gone drove him mad. He knew where you were. You were in the hospital. He could drive her there and see you right now!
No he can’t.
Because he would go and you would be stuck in bed, unconscious and hooked to machines, in a room, behind a door that Katsuki can’t get by. Seeing you isn’t the same as holding you. Speaking to you isn’t the same as conversing with you. There’s no reciprocation from your end. Being around your near lifeless body could only do so much. And so after two more weeks without you went by, Katsuki fell into a depression.
And that sucks because a few days after Katsuki’s depression began, it was okay for him to see you. But you hadn’t woken up yet. He didn’t think he would be able to be near you and your practically dead body. The fact that you were alive didn’t stick to him. He can’t see your beautiful E/C eyes, he can’t hear your honey-like voice..there’s no way you’re alive. The back of his mind still had hope. He knew you were stable. He knew you were gonna be okay..hopefully..but, you weren’t waking up. You were basically dead. Dead, dead, dead. And the more he thought about it, the more realistic the idea came to be.
So he didn’t visit you anymore..something else he’ll come to regret, and because he didn’t visit, he grew mad. Throwing away his life and succumbing to the tempting taste of alcohol. Any he could get. From the cheapest beers in cans to the finest liquors sold from top shelf. In the beginning, it was..controlled, but then he showed up to hero work completely wasted. Kirishima saved his job and forced Katsuki to take a break until he becomes stable again. This only gave Katsuki free time to do whatever the hell he wanted. And what did he want to do? He wanted to become lost.
Lost in alcohol, lost in weed, lost in everything. Lost because he doesn’t have you. Everyday he would spend it drinking and smoking, constantly being cross faded and surprising all his friends when he remained alive after all the substance abuse. Wake up, drink, get ready, drink, sit in the living room, smoke, cry over you, smoke and drink, eat and drink, go to sleep after a smoke sesh, cry over you once more. Eventually, Katsuki had cried so much, the only thing keeping him together was the fact that he had all these pictures of the two of you. Pictures of your smiles, you giving him a kiss, your dates, your accomplishments..he has all these pictures..but none of them would ever be as good as the real you.
Seeing his friend going down this road, Kirishima couldn’t help but try to do everything he could to fix his friend. No matter how many times Katsuki pushed him away, the red head kept going back. And none of his attempts to help his friend worked. Until…
—
“What now, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou groaned as he opened his door and squinted at the bright day light. He doesn’t remember that last time he’s seen the sun.
“I know you’ve been in a slump-“
“Slump? That’s what you call this? I lost the love of my life, Kirishima. This isn’t a fucking slump.” Bakugou said a little louder this time.
“She’s not gone, Bakugou.” Kirishima said trying to reassure his friend.
“But she’s not here either,” the blonde said as he chewed on his lip. “…look, whatever it is you want from me, I can’t give you. Not until Y/N is back at home, here, with me, safe and alive.”
“I know you feel that way man, but you can’t keep living like this. It’s not good for you. You at least need to get out of your house.” Kirishima said with his hand on the door as Bakugou tried to shut it. The blonde narrowed his eyes at his best friend before Kirishima spoke up again. “We can go wherever you wanna go and do whatever you wanna do, you just gotta get out of this house. Please.”
As Katsuki thought about it, he took a deep sigh before speaking. “Tonight at Hiro’s?”
“Dude, you wanna go to a bar-“
“It’s a club. Better than a bar, better drinks.” Bakugou corrected.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna hit the gym or maybe go to an actual restaurant or something?” Kirishima said, trying to steer his friend clear of alcohol.
“If you want me out of my house, then we go where I wanna go. No exceptions.” Bakugou said with a stern voice. Kirishima thought about it and sighed before giving in.
“Fine. But first, you gotta clean yourself up.” The red head said. The blonde nodded before going to shut his door, only to be interrupted by his friend once again. “With a little help from your best buds.”
As Kiri pushed the door open even more, Kaminari and Sero showed their faces that held kind smiles that only made Katsuki seethe. “No fucking way. This isn’t some girl’s trip and we aren’t doing makeovers.”
“Nobody said anything about a makeover, we’re just gonna help clean ya’ up Kacchan!” Denki smiled.
“I’m a grown man, I don’t need help cleaning up.” Bakugou said with a growl.
“Tell that to your stubble, messy hair, eye bags, and stench.” Sero began. “Seriously man, you smell like liquor and weed. You’re lucky you got that caramel thing going on to save you…barely.”
Before he knew it, his friends had pushed him into his house and quickly directed him to the bathroom. They did a full treatment. Forced him into the shower and made him soak in a tub of scented soaps and bath additions as they cleaned his house. Once they were done they had picked out a clean outfit for him before working on his face. They shaved his stubble, cleaned up his cut, put some eye cream on his bags, gave him some breath spray and changed out a few of his piercings. The full treatment. And when they showed Bakugou the new old him, he couldn’t deny he felt a little better. At least, before they stepped into his room again and he saw a few pictures of you. That’s when the slump in his shoulder returned.
Seeing this, his friends were quick to take him out of the house and head to Hiro’s. Walking in, they sat at the bar, ordered some food and a few drinks, and did whatever they could to keep Bakugou’s mind off of you. And for most of the night, it worked! Bakugou was laughing again, smiling, being his old self. But that’s when Denki decided to risk it.
“We doing shots or what?” The electric blonde asked. Kirishima gave him a look as he spoke.
“Uh, let’s go light on the liquor tonight. We don’t need shots to have a good time, right?” Kirishima said. Bakugou looked at him and chuckled.
“It’s nice of you to look out for me, Shitty hair, but I got this. Trust me.” Bakugou said with a small smile.
“I don’t know, man.” Kirishima said with a pout.
“Don’t be a pussy, Kirishima.” Kaminari smirked. That’s when all of Kiri’s friends, even Bakugou, began to egg him on. Of course, he gave in. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen? Bakugou gets drunk? He’s already been drunk before, nothing too crazy could happen, right?
Wrong. Shots were being downed and the 4 friends were losing themselves. The music was blasting, the lights were blinding, and the friends were…everywhere! Kirishima was probably puking his guts out in the bathroom, Sero and Kaminari were drunk on the dance floor, leaving Bakugou drunk at the bar by himself. Bad idea. The poor blonde was looking at his phone going through pictures of you and him together. He already missed you like crazy when he was sober, now that he’s drunk, that missing has hit full throttle. And then he caught the eye of a snake.
She walked up to the pro-hero with full confidence as she took a seat next to him. “Dynamight.”
Bakugou looked up from his phone with a scowl and blush from the alcohol. “Do I fucking know you?”
“No but-“
“Then get lost.” He said and downed another sip of his whiskey. The woman smirked at his crude behavior.
“Feisty. I like that about you, you know. Always playing hard to get.” She said with a seductive tone.
“I’m not playing hard to get, I’m playing impossible to get because I’m married,” he said and showed his wedding ring. “Happily.”
“You don’t seem too happy right now mister hero. My name’s Leiko..and if you want..I could help take away your troubles.” She offered with a smile as she leaned forward, making sure to expose a little more cleavage than necessary.
“My wife is better than just some quick fuck, so no thanks.” Bakugou said, still not taking his eyes off her, trying to scare her away with a glare that unfortunately she only smirked at.
“Who said I was trying to fuck? Why don’t you talk to me? Vent. Rant. It won’t get your mind off of your wife but it will help clear your head.” She said.
“And why the hell do you think I’m having issues with my wife?!” He asked with a tense voice.
“I walked over here and you were staring down at pictures of her on your phone. Miss H/N is beautiful. You’re a very lucky man.” Leiko said, playing the role of a snake perfectly.
“…I am..” Bakugou agreed before swallowing a gulp. “I’m Uh…I’m not having issues with her or anything. And we’re not fighting either. She’s just..been in the hospital recovering from a battle..I just miss her…”
He didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or if Leiko was just that good at pretending to be nice or both, but for whatever reason she made it easy to clear his mind. She listened well, never putting any input in. She let him speak freely and only spoke up when he looked at her in expectance to. In the moment..she was being a good friend. She allowed him to vent all he wanted about you, about how much he missed you and loves you. And by the end of the night, Katsuki could feel his chest feel a little lighter.
They didn’t sleep together but Leiko left an impression on his drunk self for sure. Maybe even him as a person. He’d remember her as ‘that one nice lady from the club.’ But that was until a few days later when she reached out to him on social media. Leiko was a perfect snake. Knowing exactly what she wanted and exactly how to get it. They spoke for some time online, casual conversations. Most times, it was Leiko asking about you and if you were okay. This went on for some time until their conversations changed. Leiko casually threw in a little flirt every now and then, Katsuki saw and held no reply for it, but didn’t stop her from doing so. Leiko seemed like a good friend. A good way to air out his emotions and issues. So despite her pushy and flirtatious nature, he kept her around. Solely as a friend.
Soon enough, Leiko offered to meet in person once more. At the same club they first met in. ‘Why not?’ Katsuki thought. He had nothing else to do. And so he went. Then he went again. And again. And again. The two became ‘friends’ and Katsuki even brought her back into your shared home where they shared even more drinks. Eventually, the use of marijuana came into play and now the two were cross faded. At least one of them was. Leiko was smart and sneaky. She took less drinks, didn’t inhale the smoke, and basically remained sober. She was in complete control, unlike the blonde hero who sat on the couch beside her. He was now upset and hurt as he thought about you.
“I-..I just miss her so damn much..it fucking hurts at this point.” He said with a whimper in his voice. Being so vulnerable, Leiko took her chance and slid in.
“Well..there’s always one way to take your mind off of harsh things like this.” She softly said with a hand in his lap. She leaned in and Bakugou made no move to stop her and allowed her to continue. She pressed his lips against his and despite it not being reciprocated the first time, she still pushed with it. Katsuki didn’t enjoy it all that much or at all. It was different, it was new, it wasn’t you. It didn’t feel like home. Her lips weren’t soft, they weren’t as plump, they didn’t have the same sweet and addicting taste you did but in a way..Katsuki felt it was what he needed. Her kiss wasn’t like yours. In fact, it was the complete opposite and he hated it. But it didn’t resemble you. When Leiko kissed him, it didn’t remind him of you, and that’s what he thought he needed. So despite not liking the kiss, when she pulled away, he pulled her back. Eventually the kiss grew more intense until it was brought to the bedroom where their night continued in a more sinful manner.
That morning, Katsuki made Leiko leave, angered at what she tricked him into and ashamed of his betrayal. How could he do that to you?! His love of over a decade! When Leiko was gone, Katsuki allowed himself to break down his walls and cry. He cried so hard that morning, more than he’s ever cried before. That morning made him realize his third regret.
Leiko and Katsuki never spoke again..until some days later when Katsuki allowed himself to become extremely drunk once more. He fell into his obsessive thoughts of you and felt the pain come again. Wanting to erase the hurt, he reached out to Leiko and asked her to come over and distract him again. He needed to feel something that wasn’t you. And so Leiko happily went over that night. And a few more nights because Katsuki felt the pain again for a few more nights. As Leiko kept going, she noticed the house loss more and more touches of you. Katsuki flipped his pictures of you in his bedroom so that they wouldn’t see his nights of betrayal and he moved his clothes out of your shared closet so he wouldn’t be reminded and hit with your addicting scent that lingered on your clothes. Leiko smiled, feeling like a victor as Katsuki slept beside her in your bed on your side. The two would have quite a surprise in the morning.
—
Katsuki was awake and was still feeling the shame. He didn’t like sleeping around with Leiko but he liked the way it distracted him from his painful thoughts of you. Every morning after a night spent with her was the same. The two would wake up, she would put on one of his shirts despite his protests and get ready in his bathroom as he sat in the living room downstairs. But this morning had a little surprise twist.
As Katsuki sat in the living room with his head down, the doorbell rung. Growling in annoyance at one of his friends’ presence, he reluctantly went to open the door with a sour mood. “WHAT?!”
“Umm, excuse me. Who the fuck do you think you are talking to your wife like that?” You asked with attitude. As Katsuki adjusted his eyes to the light and his ears caught the sound of his favorite song, his eyes widened and his smile rose.
“Y-Y/N?” He asked in complete shock. He saw you alive, healthy, smiling, looking naturally beautiful right in front of him.
“Missed me, Suki?” You asked with a giggle. Bakugou pushed the door open to pull you in for the tightest hug as he lifted you off the ground.
“YOU’RE BACK!” He cried out. He held you tight and shut the door with his foot as he dropped onto the couch with you on top of him. He held you close to him as he cried into your neck. “You’re really back! Fuck- I missed you so much Y/N! I fucking love you- I’ve been a mess without you..shit!”
His tears were everlasting as they fell from his ruby eyes that you missed so much. You smiled as you wiped them away with your thumbs and the soft touch he’s craved and missed so much. You pecked his nose to calm him down as you allowed your hands to get lost in his blonde hair. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here, Suki. I’m back.”
Katsuki still held tears in his eyes and was shaking in happiness as you remained oh so close, giving him the warmth he needed after so many months. “Tell me you love me, Y/N.”
“I love you Bakugou Katsuki.” You happily said. Your husband teared up once more, so happy he was able to hear those words from you again, before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. A kiss that brought him back to life. He took in your scent and the way you tasted illegally sweet. He let his hands roam your body in a loving way until they found way into your soft H/C locks, trying to bring your head closer to his despite your lips already being in contact. You pulled away with him chasing after your lips, needing to push him back a little to allow yourself to breath. “Relax Suki.”
He scoffed at that. “Relax? I just got you back, you’re not calling the shots today princess, that’s all me.”
You both have a little laugh as you tucked in to cuddle for a small time. He missed this. This is what he needed. This is what he’s been dying for. To have you back in his arms, alive, healthy, and present. He needed this for so long and now that he has it, he feels whole again. After spending some cuddle minutes on the couch, you rose up in need for a glass of water. As you tried to walk away, Katsuki tugged on your arm to try and bring you back to him, only to have you calm him down. “I’m just getting some water, Suki.”
He reluctantly let you go, allowing himself to smile like an idiot, glad to be around you again. As you searched for a glass in the cabin, that’s when Bakugou detected the sound of someone turning the shower off. And that’s when his eyes popped. His betrayal to you. The multiple times he betrayed your love and literal proof of it standing in his shared home with you. That’s when he began to silently panic. You were gonna find out. You were gonna find out he had been acting like a sleeze behind your back and you were gonna be pissed. Heartbroken. Downright furious and you had every right to be, but Katsuki wouldn’t allow it. He knew once you found out, you would leave again. But you can’t leave! He just got you back! You’re not allowed to leave when you finally came back to him. He’s finally happy again because you’re back! You can’t leave now!
“Hey, Baby, don’t you wanna see your friends?” Katsuki asked as he walked over to you. You had finished your glass and placed it down on the island when your husband came over asking an absurd question.
“Suki, they were all there when I left the hospital. They were the ones who bought me these new clothes. Aren’t they cute?” You asked with the smile he loved oh so much.
“Uh- yeah, yeah they look amazing on you Teddy Bear. Umm..if they were all with you, why didn’t they tell me you were coming back home?” He asked as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his went right to home on your waist.
“I wanted to surprise you!” You giggled. “How’d I do?”
“Really fucking good, you little dumbass. But why don’t we get some fresh air? Yeah?” He said as he tried pulling you to the door.
“What why? I was just out there.” You said as you stopped in your tracks. “Besides, I heard you didn’t visit me much in the hospital ya’ big meanie. I wanna spend as much time with you as I can.”
“I was gone because I couldn’t stand to see you like that, baby.” He said with a whimper.
“Yeah I figured. Which is why I’m not too mad, but you still gotta make it up to me with cuddles, so let’s go!” You said and tried pulling him in the direction of your bedroom but he planted his feet into the ground.
“We can still spend time together outside the house, Teddy Bear,” Katsuki said enthusiastically, trying to keep you away from the room that for sure reeked of sex and held scattered clothes of his own and another woman’s.
“But I want to spend time at home with you,” you pouted. Bakugou felt his heart melt at the cute face you pulled and brought you closer to him.
“I know, I wanna spend time with you too but I’ve been in the house for so long, I think I need to get out of here.” The blonde said while being aware and on the lookout for Leiko.
“Well I’ve been out of the house for so long and I know I need to be in it. Besides, as your previously injured wife, what I say goes.” You said with sass and a smile. Katsuki laughed, loving your little attitude but still worried of what you may find out.
“Baby please, can we just go?” He begged as he held your soft hands in his.
“Why are you so adamant on leaving, Suki?” You asked
“That’s because he doesn’t want you to find out about me.”
Your body jumped at the sound of a new voice and you looked at Katsuki’s face, noticing it scrunching in fear, before you turned around to find another woman wearing nothing but Katsuki’s shirt. The same shirt you’ve worn a thousand times over. You could feel your heart clenching in pain but you stood your ground no less.
“Who are you?” You asked as you dropped your hands from your husband’s. You heard his little whine at the loss of your touch as he reached out to hold into your arm but you gently pushed him off.
“Y/N-“
“Oh come on, H/N. Don’t be in denial. I bet you already have an exact idea on who I am.” Leiko said with a smirk as she looked at you. You turned to your husband with raised brows and a face of anger as you glared at him. You looked back at her and bit your lip before smiling.
“Were you in it for the long haul?” You asked Leiko, wondering if she really wanted Katsuki or if she was just getting pleasure out of this.
“Definitely not. I just came for a quick fuck every now and then. Wanted to get a feel of what it was like getting dicked down by a big shot pro-hero.” She said casually.
“Did you know he was married?” You asked.
“Yeah but he didn’t seem to care so neither did I.” She said. This made your blood boil a bit and you wanted to cry so damn bad, but you refused to allow your whore of a husband and this stranger to see you break. You huffed before smiling again.
“You can take your leave now.” You kindly said. Leiko looked at you in confusion.
“You’re not mad?” She asked. Katsuki had the same thought running through his mind as his heart raced at this conversation happening right here right now.
“Oh I’m furious. But am I really supposed to be mad at some stranger who’s content with being a home wrecker? ‘Cuz I feel like most of my anger should be directed to the man-whore behind me.” You said, never looking Katsuki’s way.
“Y/N, please-“
“I’m not speaking to you yet.” You said calmly, still not looking at him. You didn’t have to turn around to know there were tears in your husband’s eyes. Leiko smiled before standing a little taller.
“Well then, I’ll be taking my leave,” she said and took off the big shirt and throwing it onto the couch, leaving herself in her underwear. “Am I expected to be back for another visit?”
“You can come back as many times as Katsuki asks. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a single man again.” You said with a laugh.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Katsuki asked with a break in his voice. Leiko laughed too before nodding and walking back to the bedroom and gathering her things. You walked silently to sit on the couch with Katsuki following you. “Y/N, what the fuck do you mean I’m single. I’m still your husband!”
You remained silent as you looked at him with a sarcastic smile. You said nothing as you waited for Leiko to return. “Say something!”
Finally, Leiko walked down the stairs, fully dressed, and looked to you before taking her leave. You smiled at her before speaking. “So..I don’t want him anymore. Do you?”
“No I’m good. Anybody’s good for a fuck but I don’t date cheaters.” Leiko said with her hand on the knob.
“I’m not a fucking cheater!” Katsuki shouted at her as he had tears dripping down his face. She gave him a dry laugh before opening the door.
“Take a look around Bakugou. You’re not a cheater?” She asked before walking out and shutting the door, leaving the two of you in the broken home. Silence passed and all that could be heard was Katsuki’s shaky breath. You then stood up, gaining his attention, and tried walking to your bedroom before Katsuki stopped you by holding onto your arm. Tight.
“Where the fuck are you going, Y/N?” He asked as he cried angrily. You tried to shake him off of you to no avail.
“I’m leaving you fucking idiot. If you haven’t noticed, you cheated. You were disloyal. You allowed some stranger into our home, into our bed, just to get your dick wet.” You said with an angry but calm tone.
“She wasn’t a stranger.” Bakugou said trying to defend himself. You laughed and stepped to face him.
“Oh really? Tell me one damn thing you know about her.” You asked. As Katsuki thought about it..he really didn’t know anything about her. Fuck- he didn’t even know her family name. All he knew was that her name was Leiko. They were speaking for a month and in that entire month, Katsuki only ever talked about himself. She never gave up any information about herself. All she wanted to do was get to know Katsuki and get in his pants. She really was a stranger and he just tossed away his entire relationship for some whore. His silence gave you your answer. “That’s what I thought.”
You tried walking away again before he ran to stand in front of you. “Y/N! Please! Just listen, okay? I was depressed because you were gone!”
“And that’s your excuse for cheating on me?!” You shouted.
“No! But- but it hurt me to even think about you in that hospital bed! I couldn’t even face you without feeling like I was dying! And then that fucking snake came and she distracted me and kept my thoughts away from you. She kept the pain away. I know that that’s not excuse for what I did but please try to understand why I did it!” He begged as he cried.
“I will never understand! Because I could never do what you did! If you were in the hospital, close to death, I would’ve been by your side every second of every day! Yes I would’ve felt all the pain and depression you did but I wouldn’t want to distract myself from it! Because at least then I would be thinking about you, and worrying about you, and caring about you, and loving you because you’re my husband Katsuki! I wouldn’t ever want to not think about you!” You shouted in anger and hurt as you allowed a few tears to fall. This urged Katsuki to cup your face in his hands and wipe away your tears.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, can we just move pass this? Please.” He said softly as he pressed his forehead to your own before you shoved him off.
“Get away from me!” You shouted, breaking his heart as he stumbled back. “After everything we’ve been through, you go and do this to me?! AFTER EVERYTHING?!”
“IM SORRY! PLEASE! I CAN’T TAKE BACK WHAT I DID BUT YOU HAVE TO FORGIVE ME!” He shouted back.
“WHO THE FUCK SAYS I HAVE TO FORGIVE YOU, BAKUGOU?!” You said, emphasizing the use of his family name. The name that you also held.
“Don’t call me that, baby, please.” He whimpered.
“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT BAKUGOU! WE’RE DONE!” You shouted and walked away to your room with him following you. He kept spewing apologies up until you opened the bedroom door. It was a horrible mess and the stench of sex filled the air. You covered your mouth and nose as tears pricked your eyes before walking in to open your closet, disappointed as you noticed all the pictures of you two were flipped to be hidden. When you opened the doors, you didn’t find your clothes. “Where the fuck is my stuff, Bakugou.”
“I’m not telling you because you’re not leaving me, Y/N!” He said as he tried to hug you from behind before you pushed him off again.
“I’m not staying here! Tell me where my stuff is so I can leave!” You demanded.
“Like hell I will! We haven’t even had a full talk about this! You can’t just leave!” He said. You watched as tears fell down his face which only made you even more angry. He was crying? He did this! This is all his fault! How can he be the one upset?! “Y/N please, I’ll get on my fucking knees and beg you to stay if it’s what it takes but you can’t go! We’ve been together for 13 years! 13! Even before UA-“
“And you threw all that away when you decided to sleep with someone else.” You said calmly. You walked out of the room in search for your clothes as he followed and continued to speak with sobs breaking apart his sentences.
“Y/N please! I- I can fix this! You don’t have to go! You can stay and we can be happy, just like we’ve always been! Just like we were a few minutes ago before that bitch walked in and ruined everything!” He cried making you turn around in a snap.
“She didn’t ruin anything Katsuki. When you allowed her to come into your life and into our home, that’s when you fucked up. You did this to us. You ruined everything.” You said before continuing your search.
“T-Tell me what you want Y/N! I’ll make it happen! I’ll do anything- I’ll give you the fucking world! As long as you stay!” He begged. You approached the guest room in silence and Bakugou grew frantic as he blocked you from going in. “Please- don’t.”
“All my stuff is in there, isn’t it?” You asked, already knowing the answer and only having it confirmed when he remained silent. “Get out of my way.”
Bakugou shook his head as he kept the door block as you tried to pry your way through. Growing frustrated, you used a small amount of your quirk to blast him through the door, having him groan in pain as he hit the floor and watched you find your clothes in the guest room closet. You began packing your things and Bakugou was quick to stand and take everything you put in your bag out. “Stop it!”
“No! You’re staying with me! You’re not leaving me Y/N- I won’t lose you again!” He said as he tossed your bag across the room. You watched it go and stood in disbelief at his childish antics.
“Heh, you know what? Whatever, keep all the clothes. Maybe you’ll gift it to the next girl you decide to bring back here.” You said with attitude.
“I’m not bringing anybody else through those doors! I ONLY WANT YOU Y/N!” He shouted.
“Doubtful. Keep it, burn it, regift it, I don’t care. With my salary I can buy myself a new wardrobe and a new apartment. Far. Away. From you.” You said and walked out of the room. As you tried to exit the house, Katsuki pulled you back into his arms as you struggled in his grip with your face smushed against his chest.
“Please! Please tell me what you want! I’ll do anything! I’ll buy you anything! We’ll do whatever you want- Y/N I’ll even quit my job! Just please don’t go! Please forgive me!” He cried before you harshly pushed him off to reveal your sobbing face.
“I WANT TO LEAVE! BECAUSE I DONT WANT THIS ANYMORE KATSUKI!” You shouted before wiping your eyes and bringing your voice down. “I wanted my husband there with me at the hospital! I wanted him to be the first face that I saw when I woke up! But you couldn’t even give me that! Instead, you were in our home in our bed with some random person you found wherever having sex with her despite the fact that you’re a married man! …I was in a fucking hospital fighting for my life and my husband was too busy cheating on me, trying not to think about me…..I want to leave Katsuki.”
“….I can’t let you do that Y/N…I’m sorry. But I can’t do this without you.” He cried as you listed all his shortcomings. “I’ll give you whatever-“
“I don’t want material things!” You shouted in exhaustion. “I wanted your loyalty and love!”
“And you have that!”
“We wouldn’t be in this situation if I did!” You said. “I’m leaving, Katsuki. And not you or anybody else in this fucking world is going to stop me. If you try and trap me here I will break down these walls myself and get out. If you force me to stay I will do whatever it takes to get away from you. I’m not staying with you. So we’re done. And we’re getting a divorce, whether you like it or not.”
As you walked to the door you could hear his heart breaking cries as you opened the exit. “Y/N please. I don’t want this, I waited months for you to come home to me…I need you.”
“When are you gonna realize Katsuki? This is your fault. You did this to us.”
And with that, you shut the door on the house, the home, the relationship, and him. And it was all his fault.
A/N: Y’all ima be writing a part 2 for this so stay tuned
Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight @lanantoine @whatdidshesayyy @kiranogareru
#bakugo x reader#bakugou fanfiction#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou x y/n#bnha#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha#bakugou x reader#bakugou fluff#bnha bakugou#katsuki x reader#my hero academia#my hero academia bakugou#katsuki bakugou#mha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugo x reader#boku no hero academia#mha bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugou x reader#boku no hero bakugou#bakugou angst#bakugo angst
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Stronger Together
"Dreamer!"
Lena's alarm sears across Nia's senses. She registers the danger at the corner of her eye-- a Brevakk ripping off his sleeves to expose the keratinized spurs protruding from his arms. One sweep of his arm and she'll be dead, skewered in a spray of thick quills sharp enough to penetrate her suit and lacerate any organ they could reach. But she's locked in battle with a K'hund attacking from the front, so all she can do is brace for the inevitable impact.
Suddenly, Nia's view of the Brevakk is eclipsed by the shadow of Lena's back.
"NO!"
The force of the thorns' impact knocks Lena fron her feet, slamming into Nia and causing them both to go down with a cry. Lena's gauntlet fires once, stunning the Brevakk with a glancing blow. Nia throws her own arm out towards her opponent in a desperate bid to gain some ground. The blast of dream energy sends him flying, and when Nia doesn't notice that he doesn't rise again. Her attention is locked on Lena, and the half dozen quills that have found a home in her chest.
"Lena, Lena, oh my god." Nia's hands shake as she climbs out from under Lena and kneels beside her on the pavement. "No, no, no..."
Lena's eyes are glassy and dazed. She looks down at the horns, reaching drunkenly towards them only for Nia to pull her hands away.
"Why did you do that?"
Nia's suit wouldn't have helped much, but it was better than Lena's blouse-- a silly silken thing now ripped and torn, digging into the edges of the wounds around the quills. Lena had no protection beside her gauntlet, and still she had jumped between them.
"N-nia..." Lena's voice crackles in her throat. She coughs, and blood spatters across her chin, staining her berry-red lips a color far more sinister.
Nia's heart lurches with panic. Her head whips up in search of Kara, but Supergirl isn't here. She's on the other side of the city with J'onn, fighting further unrest there. Her eyes lock on another figure, black leather instead of blue.
"ALEX!!"
Nia's shriek cuts through the din, and Sentinel's head whips towards her. In an instant, the pistol in her hand shifts into a warhammer, and Alex slams it down on her opponent, all thoughts of mitigating casualties forgotten. She skids to her knees beside Nia, nearly elbowing her out of the way to crouch over Lena.
"Lena? Jesus... Lena! Can you hear me? Look at me, look at me--"
Lena's eyes track to Alex, and Nia chokes on a sob when she sees the fear in them. But Alex only calms.
"Good, you're okay," Alex tells her, stroking Lena's hair once with a gentle hand. "You're going to be okay."
With her free hand, Alex fumbles for the watch on Lena's wrist, flipping open its face and silently pressing the symbol embossed there. She doesn't take her eyes off Lena for a moment, and when the signal is active Alex slides her palm into Lena's, which curls tightly around hers.
"H-hurts--"
Lena's breath begins to quicken, and the corners of her eyes pinch with the onset of pain. The shock is quickly wearing off, leaving nothing to dull the pain. Alex nods, giving Lena's hand a squeeze.
"I know, but it's going to be okay," she promises. "We're going to get you somewhere safe--"
Supergirl touches down at the moment, pavement cracking beneath the force of her panic. "Lena!!"
Kara kneels opposite her sister, taking in the damage with wide eyes. She grips Lena's free hand tightly, even as she looks to Alex for instructions.
"Hospital," Alex says simply, urgency clipping her tone. "Now."
Kara nods, and gently maneuvers Lena into her arms. Lena cries out, the sound sharp in Nia's ears. When Nia blinks, tears dampen the fabric of her mask.
"I'm sorry," Kara murmurs, pressing her nose to the side of Lena's head. "I'm sorry."
"K-kar--" Lena gasps for breath, coughing up more blood. Her back now visible, Nia sees that one of the thorns has penetrated so deeply that it tents the back of Lena's shirt.
"It's okay," Kara echoes the well-meaning lie of her sister. "I've got you."
In a burst of wind, Kara takes off, and Nia sits dazed in her wake. It's long moments before she registers Alex's insistent hands tugging her up.
"It was supposed to be me," Nia intones, flat with shock. "She--"
"I know," Alex cuts her off, not unkindly. She tugs Nia to her feet then shoves her into a run. "But we need to go. Now!"
Together, they make their retreat, leaving the alley and the unconscious aliens behind just as the distant wail of approaching sirens cuts through the air.
---
Nia wastes no time in stripping off her costume and changing back into her civvies. But before she can reach the exit, Alex cuts her off. "You can't go to the hospital."
Surprise jolts through Nia, before its quickly replaced with anger. "Are you insane?"
"Nia--"
"I can't just wait here-- she-- those barbs were meant for me, Alex! She's hurt because of me. I can't not be there!"
"Kara just called."
Time seems to freeze. Nia feels ice pool in her veins as a lump climbs to her throat and lodges there. "No..."
Alex rushes to reassure her. "No! That's not-- no, Lena's still in surgery. But-- the police are there."
Nia's relief that Lena is alive cuts short with confusion. "What? Why?"
"They're there to take Lena into custody."
"They can't do that!"
"She's aided and abetted known vigilantes," Alex explains. "With everything that's been happening lately--"
"It's not right!"
"Lena will be fine. Truly. Kara is going to CatCo to get Andrea to make the arrest as public as possible. Between that and the Luthor reputation, my guess is that they'll question her about our identities and then let her go."
"That's-- that's--" Nia struggles to find words through her growing rage. The helplessness of the past few months, the rising anti-alien sentiments, the crackdown on Supergirl on her friends... it all comes to a head, and Nia can barely breathe.
Alex reaches for Nia's hand. "If you go now, you'll only risk exposing yourself. Lena wouldn't want that."
Nia sucks in a breath, but it comes in a sob. The next thing she knows, Alex's arms are around her and she's crying into her shoulder, huge lurching sobs that feel like the world is quaking around her.
"It's okay," Alex promises.
"It's my fault," Nia gasps. "It's all my fault..."
"Lena's going to be okay."
---
Nia may not be able to go to the hospital, but she can't stay in the Tower either. In the end she goes to CatCo, ready to throw her weight behind Kara's pitch to fry the police in the press. Luckily, Andrea doesn't need the convincing.
"I want both of you on this," their boss delivers with a coolness sharpened to a razors edge by the glint of rage in her eyes. "William too. I want you to dig up anything you can find about the arresting officers. Any whisper of corruption within the NCPD that you might have been sitting on, now is your time to air it. CatCo won't stand for this."
Nia and Kara both nod solemnly before retreating to their desks. But instead of diverting to her own desk, Kara follows Nia to hers.
"How are you holding up?"
The gentle question threatens a resurgence of tears. Nia looks away, only for her eyes to catch on the photo of her and Lena on her desk, taken at one of their sister nights the year before. Nia can't remember the last time they've hung out, just the two of them.
Blinking furiously, Nia flips the picture down and opens up her laptop. "Fine."
"It's okay to not be fine..."
"Do you want to know if I'm angry that my friend is alone in the hospital because of me? Fine! I'm angry!"
Kara's features soften. "Nia..."
"It's my fault she's there in the first place!" Nia hisses. The lump returns to her throat, and her eyes burn with unshed tears. "She just, just... she just jumped between us! I should've--"
"Hey." Kara calms her with a hand on her shoulder. Nia sucks in a breath, then another, trying to steady herself. Finally, Kara's features pinch into a bemused smile. "You know Lena... There's no line she won't cross, for the people she cares about."
Instead of comforting her, Kara's words only makes Nia grit her teeth. She turns back to the computer. They better be willing to do the same for her.
"Let's get to work."
----
The first article runs the following morning, skewering the police department for rampant anti-alien abuses while highlighting Lena's charity and outreach. While it's not quite enough to banish the police presence from the hospital, it does get a single visitor in to see Lena. Nia expects Kara to take it, but to her surprise Kara simply nods her towards the door.
"Go," Kara says softly. "Give her our love."
Nia doesn't stop to ask twice. She's ushered into Lena's hospital room by a kindly looking nurse, glaring at the officer posted outside the door on her way in. The second her eyes land on Lena, rage swells in her chest at the side of the handcuffs tethering Lena to the bed.
"Is that really necessary?" she demands, balling her hands into fists. "Where is she going to go?"
"Nia..." Lena's soft voice from the bed interrupts her before she can gather much steam. "It's okay."
Nia huffs, eyeing the way the officer slowly moves his hand from his sidearm when Nia turns back to the room. But then all she can see is Lena, hair limp and torso bulky with bandages under her hospital gown.
"It's not okay," Nia says, sitting in the chair thats been placed next to Lena's bed.
"It's just a misunderstanding," Lena insists, her gaze sliding towards the door. The door itself remains open, denying them any sense of privacy. But Lena doesn't seem to mind when her gaze returns to Nia. "You okay?"
Nia chokes on her own tongue. "Am I--? Lena, you're in the hospital..."
"And I'm okay." Lifting her cuffed wrist, Lena silently reaches for Nia's hand, which Nia offers without hesitation. "Promise."
All of a sudden, the tears come back, pressing against her eyelids as she squeezes her eyes shut. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry--"
"It's okay," Lena assures her. "I'm okay."
"You shouldn't have--"
"Been there in the alley? When that guy tried to mug me?" Lena asks pointedly. Clearly, she's already established her cover story. "You're right, I should have known better." She pitches her voice loud enough to carry to the door. "I'm just lucky Sentinel and Dreamer were there to help me."
They wait a moment to listen for a response, but when none comes, they devolve into a fit of giggles.
"Ow," Lena grimaces with a cough. "No laughing for a while."
Nia tightens her grip on Lena's hand. "I... Lena, I'm so sorry--"
"I'd do it again," Lena returns, softly this time. Her words are for Nia alone. "That's what friends do."
---
Alex turns out to be right. As soon as Lena is well enough to leave the hospital, she's taken to the precinct for interrogation, but between CatCo's articles stirring up enough local support that a crowd forms around the precinct to protest the arrest, and the kind of lawyers a Luthor can acquire even after abandoning the family legacy, Lena is released without charge in a matter of hours.
Nia stays at the Tower hoping to see her, but Lena doesn't come.
"She's guessed she's probably being watched," Alex tells her. "She'll being laying low for a while til the heat dies down. All the better, honestly. It'll give her time to heal."
Nia swallows thickly. "Where is she?"
"Home. Kara's with her, but I'm sure she'd love to see you."
Nia approaches Lena's condo without much of a plan. She's armed with snacks and movies, but she knows that having Kara there won't give Nia the time with Lena she needs. She misses Lena, all more the more since she realized how long it had been since they'd just been... friends. More than allies, more than teammates, just... friends.
It feels like Maeve all over again.
But she swallows her nerves and takes the elevator up. Kara opens the door just as Nia lifts her hand to knock.
"Hey," Kara says quietly. She steps aside to let Nia in, and though she can hear the tv from the next room, they linger in the foyer.
"Is everything okay?" Kara asks.
Nia nods. "Yeah. Um. I just--"
She doesn't have an explanation either. Nia stares at her feet, until Kara breaks the silence.
"Look, I have a favor to ask..."
"Yeah?"
"Would you mind staying with Lena for a few hours?"
When Nia looks up, she finds Kara scrubbing the back of her head with one hand, looking sheepish.
"Yeah," she continues, "I've been kind of... hovering? And I think it's getting on her nerves a little. So I figured I could get some stuff done at CatCo--"
"Yes," Nia blurts. "Yes, of course. I'll stay."
Kara grins. "Thanks. She's in the living room now, if you want to..."
"Right. Yeah, I've got this. Go."
Kara thanks her with another smile that makes her whole face shine. "Call if you need anything."
She slips out the door with a wink, and locks it behind her. Nia walks to the living room on wooden legs, and finds Lena laying on the couch against a pile of pillows, propping her up to take the pressure off her wounds.
She looks up when Nia enters, and though her eyes are tired, her features crease into a smile. "Hey..."
"Hey."
Lena struggles to sit up, prompting Nia to close the distance swiftly. "No, no, no, stay comfy."
Relenting with a sigh, Lena groans. "Not like I have much choice these days."
"It'll get better."
Silence follows. Nia stands awkwardly, hands gripping her bag of candy tightly until Lena regards it with curiosity.
"What's all this?"
Nia starts. "Oh. Uhm... I thought-- well, I was wondering..." She trails off, shoulders slumping. "It's been a while since we've had sister's night."
When Lena doesn't answer, Nia risks a glance up to find Lena blinking in astonishment, before her features soften to warmth. She smiles.
"Well, there's no time like the present."
Lena lifts her arms, making playful grabby motions with her hands.
"What'd you bring me?"
----
Hours later, Kara returns home to find Nia seated on the couch with Lena's legs across her lap. It's as close to cuddling as Lena can get, with her injuries, and the way Nia's hands are spread over Lena's shins tells Kara that the contacr was very much needed.
Lena sleeps peacefully, the tv low in the background. Nia looks up at Kara from the shadows, the light reflecting in the tear tracks painted on her cheeks. Without a word, Kara slips in next to Nia, working her way under Lena's ankles to wrap one arm around the younger girl's shoulders.
Nia hugs her back, shaking quietly with the effort to keep her crying silent.
"It's okay," Kara whispers. Nia nods against her. So long as they were all together, they could get through anything.
"We're going to be okay."
#supercorp#nia and lena brotp#kind of a continuation of sister sister#alternate universe#but could have conceivably happened if lena had been part of the superfriends during the col storyline#that sort of atmosphere#let me know what you think
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Insufferable
A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!
Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one
Word count: 3.6k
Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader
Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.
Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too
There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.
You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.
Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.
You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.
Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.
Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.
Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.
“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”
“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?
You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”
“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”
Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.
“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”
“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.
“No, but I know how you look naked-”
“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.
“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.
“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.
“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”
“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.
You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-
You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.
Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-
“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.
Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?
You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.
You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.
The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.
“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.
He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.
You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.
“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”
“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.
“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.
You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.
Old habits die hard.
Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.
Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.
The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.
Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.
You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.
“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.
You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?
Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.
You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.
He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.
I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.
I’m so tired.
-Mom
Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.
“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.
“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”
He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.
No thanks to him.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.
“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”
“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.
“Wh-”
He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.
However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.
"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.
You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”
Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.
He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.
His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.
He froze.
Fuck, what food do you like?
He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.
Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.
Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.
He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.
Tip Jar
#yandere bts#soft yandere bts#bts fanfic#bts series#yandere jungkook#bts angst#bts fluff#poly bts au
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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 | c!technoblade
the struggles of parenting - c!technoblade x reader
synopsis: technoblade thinks he wouldn’t be the best dad when you tell him you’re pregnant. However, he won’t know until he does it!
pronouns not mentioned, suggests female.
tw: female pregnancy, demon child
wc: 1.7K
italics represent future activities. This can also be seen as a continuation off of the scent of estrogen which was written previously by @faithajo24.
as you stared at your partner, you noticed the look of uncertainty plastered on his face. you patiently waited for him to process the news you had just told him. you honestly didn’t think it would take him ten whole minutes to process the fact that you were pregnant.
what’s there to process? you have a kid growing inside you, boom. you supposed there was also the lugging around a child that you would have to eat double to feed. going to the bathroom more frequently, random mood switches, and constant feeling of dizziness whenever you stand up, but techno didn’t have to deal with that. all he had to do was make sure you had every single food you craved-- which may change by the hour, but that’s not that big of a deal. he also had to rub your swollen feet sometimes, but hey, he signed up for that when he decided to knock you up.
in eight months, there would be a ton of wailing, a whole lotta shit around the place, and nights of listening to loud crying, trying to figure out what the small child wanted. it wasn’t that bad for him. sheesh.
“techno?” you called out after the twelfth minute passed. he just continued to stare at your stomach with wide eyes. the piglin hybrid hadn’t moved from his spot.
“this is not good.” were the first four words he chose at that moment. a large amount of hurt began to settle as you stared at your partner with disbelief.
“what?” was all you could manage to mutter. an expanding feeling of sadness overwhelming you. techno stared up at you meeting your gaze.
“we can’t be parents! i can’t raise a-a” he struggled to form a sentence, failing at getting out how he felt. the shock of practically being rejected consumed you, any happiness you were feeling before all completely disappeared.
“is there something wrong with raising a kid with me?” anger bubbling through your words.
“you? god, no, y/n! it’s not you! it’s me!” he corrected, standing from his chair, reaching out for you. his heart throbbed as he watched you move away from him.
“fuck you.” you uttered, turning on your heel to go to the exit of techno’s cabin. suddenly, you felt a grasp around your wrist, restricting you from moving any further.
“no, y/n. i’m sorry. that came out wrong.” he paused for a moment. he opened his mouth only to close it.
“yes, techno?” you said, your words laced with poison. whatever he wanted to say, he should get it out now before you start lighting things on fire with your new crazy pregnancy mood.
“i just don’t think-” he sucked in a breath, hesitating. “that i would be the greatest dad.” you cocked your head to the side, listening to his reasoning.
at this point, you weren’t sure if you should be angry at your partner for thinking he would be a terrible parent, sad for thinking himself unfit, or happy that you weren’t the problem. you decided to feel all three. “why?” was what seemed to spill from your mouth.
you didn’t understand how technoblade, the man who took in tommy when he finally recognized dream’s abuse, technoblade, the man who let ranboo move in around the area when he had nowhere to go, technoblade, the man that you loved with all your heart, couldn’t see himself as an amazing father to your child.
techno just stared at you, his red eyes expressing his affection for you perfectly. “why don’t you think you’d be the greatest dad?” you repeated, awaiting an answer patiently.
“well… there’s-there's feeding the kid!” you almost let out a howl of laughter. “what do you even feed something that small? it’s ridiculous! if i were to shove anything down that small of a throat, it would choke and die, alright? what more can i say?”
“please don’t shove anything down our future kid’s mouth.”
“i wasn’t planning on it, but it was just a thought and it can happen.”
“alright, kid.” you settled yourself on a chair in front of your kid who sat in their own chair with a chest in between the two of you to act as a makeshift table. “what do you eat?” you mumbled, staring down the smaller version of your now one month anniversary husband, but less piglin, and more cute like you.
the child just gawked at you with a big toothless grin, absolutely radiating with cuteness. “fuck, techno. it’s doing it again.” you called to your husband who was on the floor above, enchanting some armor for your little one, insisting that they needed protection despite the fact that you’ve told him numerous times that the worst thing that could happen to them is tommy getting ahold of them.
“y/n, don’t look them in the eyes! it’s when you look at them there that they get you!” he called from above.
“too late!” you hollered back, sucked into the action of looking your kid directly in their soft eyes.
with a sigh and a grumble, you heard the creaking of techno’s footsteps coming down the ladder to find you propped up on a chair and staring at your child indefinitely with an expression of utter joy as if you were entranced in their absolute adorableness.
he stalked over, picking up the tiny thing compared to him and holding them against his chest. the baby let out a squeal of extreme happiness. he took the spoon you had set down on the chest in front of you and grabbed a spoonful of the supposedly edible concoction you made for your baby.
you watched in awe as techno spoon-fed your child with a calm, affectionate look towards them. it made your heart swell with solitude.
“and-and changing it! changing the shit holder- the diaper! whatever!” he counted off the next reason.
“the… shit holder?” you asked with a look of half amusement and half confusion.
“shut up, alright? i have no clue how to be a dad.”
as you tried to tug the snuggie on your smelly child’s lower half, you struggled and watched it come undone for what you assumed to be the eighth time.
techno walked over and with a grunt said, “you’re doing it wrong.”
you huffed, “ho’kay, if i’m doing it wrong, you do it then.” you said with some attitude stepping to the side from the changing bench he installed for when your baby needed a diaper change.
he let out a small chuckle before taking over, your baby’s face lighting up when they saw they’re father in their line of sight.
swiftly and efficiently, the diaper was on. correctly. way better than you’d ever been able to do and way faster.
“you’re doing that from now on,” you hummed with annoyance, taking your child into your arms and kissing them on the cheek. “i’m not smelling baby shit for more than 30 minutes, trying to put on a diaper when my husband can do it in one.”
techno was about to protest, but stopped and held a smirk on his face. “then you’re throwing these out from now on.” he pointed to the already used diaper.
your mouth hung open before you closed it and bitterly responded with a “fine.”
“crying. what the fuck am i supposed to do if it cries?! what does it want? food? a diaper change? bouncing? fetch?”
“our kid is not going to act like a dog.” you pointed out.
“what the hell does it want when it cries?!”
the hours of wailing you had to deal with while techno was out somewhere was exhausting to say the least.
you had been left at home with your child for a couple of hours and when they started crying, it went on for hours until they got what they wanted. you had absolutely zero clue whatever the hell they wanted.
you have tried everything. you even managed to get phil, ranboo, and tubbo over to try and help you, but everything the four of you tried never seemed to work. you had come to the conclusion that your child was a demon from hell that would stop at nothing to get what it desired. if the shoe fits…
“have you tried putting your baby in rice?” ranboo suggested with a tone that made him sound like he was being completely serious.
“i’ve heard bouncing a child works! i dunno, i haven’t tried it. we’ve never had to deal with michael like this.” tubbo offered. “he mostly just makes little oinks and hops around everywhere.”
“maybe just throw the whole kid away. honestly, it worked for me.” phil shrugged.
“oh! i have nukes if we need-”
“what the fuck-” you spat as you stared at the three of them with shock. “we are not drowning my kid in rice, i already tried bouncing- it didn’t work, and phil, we are not throwing away my kid. and lastly, we are not fucking nuking my kid. at least, not without techno’s input. i can’t believe the three of you are parental figures.”
a few more minutes passed with more bawling, when your husband finally arrived home. “i could hear my baby from outside the house, why is it crying this time?” you, phil, ranboo, and tubbo all turned your head to techno with expressions that made you all look dead. “yeesh, you guys look terrible.” he commented.
“yeah, thanks, babe.” you mumbled, exhausted.
“you guys obviously haven’t tried hard enough,” techno mumbled, “because-” as he reached for his kid and put them in his arms. the demon in your demon child completely disappeared. “it just wanted attention.”
“what the hell?” you heard phil groan.
the three of you joined him in the groan, making you all sound like the undead. “it wanted you, techno.” you complained.
“good luck with that thing. i’m going to sleep. don’t call me next time it does that.” phil got up and dipped immediately, heading to his cabin.
tubbo and ranboo looked at each other and sighed. “we’ve got our own kid at home and i’m just glad he isn’t a demon like this one.” tubbo sighed.
“and michael’s literally from the nether!” ranboo added. “see you guys!”
and with that, they left you and techno and your child that was exuding happiness in his arms alone. “you are the worst.” you grumbled and climbed up the ladder to go to bed.
“i’d just be a terrible father.” techno said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “i wouldn’t know how to deal with it at all.”
“oh, i believe you, babe. i really do.”
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written by me & edited by @faithajo24
taglist: @aiyncel @etheriaaly
#technoblade#technoblade x reader#technoblade x fem!reader#dreamsmp#dsmp#dream smp#julia-moron#tubbo#ranboo#philza#dadza#technodad
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let’s talk about elucien
there are so many reasons why I love elain x lucien and why I think these two would not only be amazing together, but also why they belong together. one of those reasons is lucien’s sassy personality, which we already got a glimpse of in acotar (and that I miss terribly btw), and which is, in my opinion, exactly what elain needs in her life. we’re talking about lucien “your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold” vanserra. we know he’s got quite a big mouth, that’s how we got to know him, but we also know that mouth is exactly what’s gotten him into trouble before. case in point: the eye incident. lucien doesn’t mince his words and yes, that is one of the reasons why elain really needs to spend some more time with him.
she has been coddled by not only her father, nesta, feyre, but also the entire inner circle, which has allowed her to live her life passively. yes, she killed the king of hybern, and good for her, but she did it because nobody else could have done it at that point in time. ever since the war ended, elain has not actively contributed to any plot matters, whether by choice or because someone else took the choice from her. azriel said in acosf, “there is an innate darkness to the dread trove that elain should not be exposed to.” even amren pointed out that elain is capable of defending herself, but for some reason, nobody let her even though elain said she would try to find it: “then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” and yet, by the end of the book, elain’s been barely in it and has not contributed at all. (I know some people claim there’s certain things already happening in the background, but honestly, I’m not satisfied with that development happening off page, so I can’t wait to finally go on her journey and actually see her do stuff)
this moment is crucial:
does it look like she is happy with the way the others treat her? not really. when nesta snapped at her, elain started laughing. that signals relief to me because nesta, the one who has always tried to protect elain the most (nesta baby Ilysm), is the one who suddenly lost her patience. elain needs somebody like lucien, somebody with a big mouth and sassy attitude, who can coax her out of that paralysis she’s been stuck in, a bit like nesta in this scene. additionally, the banter would be top tier. I want another “if I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” moment, please. god please. (elain blinks. “and where would you like that kiss?” — and lucien just loses his mind.)
another thing that lives in my head rent free is the fact that lucien has travelled almost everywhere and could introduce elain, who wishes to see more of the world (see: “elain had always wanted to visit the continent to study the tulips and other famed flowers”), to the different courts and the continent. I refuse to accept that we will not get to learn more about the other courts, for my sake, but also for elain’s sake. I want her to see the spring court at least once. I want her to go and see those tulips she’s dreamt of. I want her and lucien to discover the day court as a new home, which brings me to the next point.
elain has been craving sunshine for some time now. there’s several quotes that emphasise her connection to sunshine/light, here are a few of my favourites:
I marveled at it, actually — that those years of poverty hadn‘t stripped away that light from elain.
the suite was filled with sunlight. every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible. as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent.
she had been always so full of light. perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. to fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. and now nothing remained.
what can I get you, elain? — sunshine.
elain doesn’t belong into the night court. feyre has found her family there, with rhys and the inner circle. nesta has found (or should I say accepted) cassian and found gwyn and emerie, her chosen sisters. but elain?
elain is somewhere in the background hiding with the twins and tending to gardens of the citizens of velaris. you can’t tell me that is satisfactory to you. she is currently ignoring her seer abilities, and the members of the inner circle are basically encouraging her to do so. the only time she’s been confronted lately was during that conversation with nesta and her reaction was not exactly what any of us readers would have expected, was it? that tells me there’s much more about her we don’t know yet, and I’m convinced we won’t know until she finally leaves and finds her own people, finds herself again and start dealing with everything that happened to her. elain must leave the night court, i.e. the darkness, behind in order to grow.
the same goes to lucien: he’s not at a place where he can just jump into a relationship or mating bond. he’s got so much stuff going on. lucien was forced to abandon his home and his abusive family, his “father” killed the fae he loved in front of his eyes, his best friend is an abusive pos who never appreciated him anyway, and neither has anyone in the night court. lucien is used because of his connections and because of the mating bond that ties him to elain, whether he wanted it or not. feyre knows he would never turn away from elain unless she explicitly wishes him to, and so she and rhys and the others use that to their advantage. it is smart, of course, but at the same time, they also keep important information about his own life from him that could change many, many things. so he’s spending his time with mortals in the human lands — a place where he as a fae really does not belong.
lucien being the heir to the day court, well, to me, it feels like sjm is practically screaming it into our face: how could he find a home in the night court, the literal opposite to the day? darkness vs. light. and what about elain “he’d never once in the two years he’d known her found elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … it sucked the life from her” archeron? just looking at the symbolism, not only do the quotes from above indicate that the night court cannot possibly be her home, but also very recent quotes from the latest book. elain is a side character in the night court. and so is lucien. they both need to leave in order to become main characters — and it doesn’t even matter that both are already crucial to the further plot of the series because how can they possibly contribute to it in a place where they are both kept down?
mor said in acofas: “stay out of it. she’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” and “let him figure out where he wants to be. who he wants to be. the same goes with her.” mor’s power is “truth”, whatever that means. but there you have it. they’re not ready to be with each other yet, and that’s okay.
[elain and lucien are also connected not only because of the mating bond, but also because of the plot. lucien must know quite a lot about her and her sisters simply because of all the time he spent with their father. the father who made a bargain with koschei. koschei who put a spell on vassa. lucien is therefore tied to both papa archeron as well as koschei and vassa. elain, we know, is a seer, despite her not using her abilities (or is she, and we simply don’t know?). elain is (obviously) connected to her father, but also to koschei and vassa (remember those visions she had).]
now let’s get to the mating bond stuff, and I need to say this loud and clear: elain has always had and will always have one (1) true mate. there’s no such thing as “false mate” or even multiple mates. there has been no indication whatsoever. lucien is the mate the cauldron had given her when she was born. and elain is the mate the cauldron had given him when he was born. even when she was still human, they already belonged together — tied together by strings of fate. absolutely nothing will change this fact. should elain reject the bond, lucien will remain a part of her life/her soul forever. should lucien reject the bond, elain will remain a part of his life/his soul forever.
when she was still human, lucien had already felt a pull between them and tried to save and protect her from hybern. when elain was already fae, when it came to protecting her, azriel clapped cassian’s shoulder and left (is this the true mate they’re all talking about?). it’s unfair to lucien, elain, AND azriel and this comparison alone is enough to disprove this theory.
the thing is, lucien has been nothing but respectful, kind and caring towards elain. when he arrived in velaris in acowar, he could immediately sense what she needed and said, “she needs fresh air” (vs. the response “we’ll judge what she needs”) and “take her to the sea. take her to some garden. but get her out of this house for an hour or two.” (I’m gonna make another post about this because I have a few thoughts on this)
of course, she doesn’t owe him anything, but elain herself doesn’t wish to be treated like a child, she maybe she should start acting like an adult because although she doesn’t owe lucien an apology or explanation, she has to have a conversation with him, like two responsible adults. there is no way feyre or anyone in the inner circle hasn’t told her that she can reject the bond and move on with her life. but just like her powers, this is another thing she chooses to ignore. I’m not blaming her because I know she has to work through her trauma first and heal, but by the end of the series, she has to acknowledge that at least.
in acosf, elain says “I am not a child to be fought over” when they discuss the dread trove. I wonder what she would say about the fact azriel threatens to challenge lucien to the blood duel because of her? based on literally everything we know about lucien, I can say with certainty that he would not physically fight over elain. if she only had a conversation with him and told him to move on and leave her alone, lucien would do just that. he would leave her alone and try to move on as best as he could (which we know is difficult for males). but he would never act as entitled to her as to demand a blood duel and fight to death. it goes against his principles.
to finish this off, sjm summing up everything I just said:
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Hey, I was wondering if you could talk more about what you thought about the conflict that happened between Ladybug and Chat Noir in the new york special?
Certainly. Mainly, it’s the same issue we saw in ‘Glaciator’ but manifesting in a different way: these two tend to misunderstand the relationship between them because of their personal experiences and expectations, which tend to naturally be in conflict because of the very different pasts the two characters have. I also think the conflict was two-sided and only one side of the issue at hand was solved. We had Cat Noir’s dishonesty and Ladybug’s inability to act as a comforter, with only the former being solved.
Since it's the one that gets resolved and it's more straightforward, let's start with Cat Noir's side. He's the child of a strict, emotionally abusive father and we've repeatedly seen that he projects his relationship with his father into his relationship with Ladybug, and here it happens again. Gabriel would not let Adrien do what he doesn't allow and we've seen what he does when Adrien disappoints him: punishes him severely.
Strict parents don’t raise obedient children, they raise children who lie well. And Adrien had more of a motive to be deceitful than most. This special was the first time Ladybug gave him responsibility over something. If he said he couldn’t do it, would she ever trust him with anything again? Or, would she simply tell him to suck it up and do as he’s told, forcing Adrien to choose between her and his father in their demands of him? And Plagg, who I will point out, has been actively more helpful in season three, actually helped Adrien come up with a plan that, to their reasonable expectations, would not have led to anyone being hurt or disappointed, so Adrien obviously saw that simply not letting Ladybug know that he wouldn’t be physically present in Paris would work out. Adrien even was responsible about it; he kept himself actively informed of the situation in Paris up until he was made to put his phone away. And then things went to hell in a handbasket at the worst possible moment.
However, here comes the fault in Adrien’s reasoning, which was very reasonable to him and his implied-to-be equally abused Kwami: Ladybug is nothing like Gabriel. Marinette would have heard him out and they’d have come up with a plan together to deal with the situation, as long as Cat Noir got a hold of her soon enough for them to meet up and make a plan. We don’t really know what the time frame is between Adrien finding out and the departure of the plane to New York, but, considering Plagg stopped Adrien from contacting Ladybug, and no time constraint was mentioned, they’d have had plenty of time.
This is the beginning and end of Adrien’s half of the conflict. After this point, he’s merely reacting to what he thinks are clear signals from Ladybug. He tries to help with the villain the best he can, while Ladybug keeps distracting him by berating him in the middle of the fight, finally breaking his will to fight entirely by declaring she can’t trust him anymore, one of the nightmare scenarios I mentioned earlier. Add to that the villain using his power to harm Uncanny, he was convinced that Ladybug would be better off with any other partner. When Ladybug didn’t refute his assessment that he was a failure and no good hero, he decided he was right and abandoned his ring. However, when Uncanny revealed to him that Ladybug did, in fact, still need him specifically as her partner, he came back, deciding that it didn’t matter if he was a worthless failure as long as Ladybug would find a use for him anyway. Adrien repeatedly describes himself negatively in comparison to others, his self esteem is awful, but that wasn’t really a matter being handled in the special.
When Cat Noir made it to Ladybug and was instantly welcomed back, he apologised for not being honest and Ladybug signalled her forgiveness with a fistbump. This gesture signalled to Adrien that he could trust Ladybug and that Ladybug trusted him back, that the things she’d said in anger were just that. This showed Adrien in a blatant way that Ladybug was nothing like Gabriel, who would have lorded Adrien’s failure over him and punished him, instead of accepting his assurance that he’ll do better next time. This was an important lesson to Adrien, because he needs to be as honest with Ladybug as their secret identities allow because they’re a team and can’t go doing things independently when it affects them both. Adrien’s experiences in the special are ones that will specifically help him overcome his character flaw of being too distructful of others’ intentions when it comes to Ladybug.
Then comes Marinette’s side, and this one is more complex. While how badly she was distracted in that fight and how badly she distracted Cat Noir was an issue in and of itself, it wasn’t the thing on her part that escalated the conflict. It was merely what set up her state of mind. What escalated the conflict were the things she said in anger that she didn’t take back while Cat Noir was clearly falling apart. Marinette was understandably upset by what happened in Paris, but she made a very big mistake with how she handled that: she focused only on herself. Marinette needed comfort because she couldn’t heal Paris, but Cat Noir needed comfort because they could do nothing to help Paris, he’d just temporarily killed someone and he felt like a failure as a partner. But, when Cat Noir didn’t instantly move to assure her that she was fine, Marinette turned her back on him and walked away. She wanted space, because Marinette usually finds a quiet corner to think when she’s dealing with something, but Adrien saw that as a rejection. And when Cat Noir voiced all these things going on in his mind, she was silent, making him feel like she was condemning him, seeing him as worthlessly as he did. So he decided to leave her so that she could find a better partner.
Marinette also has her own misconceptions about her and Cat Noir’s relationship. This is another thing I noticed in ‘Glaciator’: Marinette doesn’t think Cat Noir is an actual human being with real human emotions and problems. She got better about it after ‘Glaciator’, like accepting his feelings for her as genuine, but she still doesn’t understand that Cat Noir can get hurt emotionally and might need a bit of support every once in a while. In fact, in ‘Timetagger’, she blatantly shuts him down when he’s looking for affirmation, claiming he “already knows he’s the best”, when Adrien actually has very poor self esteem. I mentioned in another comment that Marinette sees Cat Noir as a fae-like being, someone who only goofs around and supports her, and is never touched by worldly things like pain and sadness. The only threat to him are the supervillains they face. Every time one of them has shown a need for comfort, it’s been Ladybug, and Cat Noir has always been the one to comfort her. They’re stuck in these roles, and Marinette doesn’t know how to break out of them when Cat Noir is the one needing comfort and support. To drive this aspect of the conflict home, this is the direct reverse of the situation in ‘Miracle Queen’. In ‘Miracle Queen’, Marinette makes a mistake with real consequences, gets Fu’s identity revealed to Hawk Moth which led to his capture, but Cat Noir overlooks that to support her instead. In the special, Cat Noir’s mistake causes property damage in Paris that they can’t undo, but Marinette can’t overlook it to support her partner through his mistake.
Here’s the thing: Marinette has a good life. She has a supportive family and supportive friends. This gives her a solid foundation as a superhero and it means she’s used to people picking her up when she falls down. It’s not just her relationship with Cat Noir that’s characterized by the idea that support just shows up when she needs it. Heck, at the end of ‘Love Hunter’, Luka seemingly magically appears for the sole purpose of giving Marinette some comfort. However, we’ve seen some hints, mostly in ‘Weredad’, that at least her dad wants to overly protect her. We don’t know how well Marinette would actually take Adrien rejecting her, but, considering how miserable she was repeatedly in season two over just not getting to see him, I suspect not well, and her dad was convinced she’d go as far as being easily shattered by that. Children need to feel small disappointments to be able to handle the actual hurdles they’ll face later in life. The way Marinette becomes an anxious mess over failing at something reminds me of myself as a teenager, and I was a very shielded child. My mom pampered me, not by much, but enough that I had to learn to pick myself and others up at a later age. And I feel that’s a lesson Marinette needs to learn as well.
We saw from what Marinette said to Uncanny that she didn’t think Cat Noir’s mistake was irreparable. She didn’t mean the gestures I described earlier as how Adrien saw them. She didn’t mean to turn her back on him to reject him and she didn’t mean her silence to be read as her agreeing that he was a bad partner. But she never once considered that she might be sending Cat Noir these signals, even as Cat Noir told her how he felt about himself in relation to her. Instead of supporting her partner by saying anything to refute his self-disparaging comments, or even sharing their pain together, Marinette remains silent, experiencing her own pain alone and leaving Cat Noir with his. Marinette is a good leader, but she’s not a good partner, because she lacks the ability to support Cat Noir. This isn’t her fault, it’s a character flaw like Adrien’s distrust of others to consider his well being in any scenario. However, it’s one that’s harder to fix than Adrien’s, because Adrien’s flaw is one of perception, so he just needs to see contrary evidence to learn better. Marinette’s issue is that she lacks important skills for comforting someone: spotting a need and responding to it. I’m pretty sure we haven’t seen Marinette actively comfort anyone during the entire series. It’s very likely she’s never had to do so before the moment with Cat Noir in this special.
This is why Adrien leaving her was so important to Marinette’s future growth as a partner specifically. Technically Marinette needed it to happen. Marinette had to learn that you can’t expect someone to be there indefinitely if you never let them know you want them there, and she had to learn that Cat Noir needs her to reciprocate the supportive relationship between them instead of only enjoying the benefits of her partner’s almost unwavering support. An unequal relationship will not last. If you just keep someone around for their comfort, they’ll leave you once they have none left to give. If you just keep someone around for their good days, they’ll leave you once their bad days come. But in this special we saw Marinette taking the first steps towards realizing her partner’s humanity, ergo, fixing the part of the issue that’s in her perception: she was still thinking about him when she was Marinette. I noted in ‘Glaciator’ that Marinette usually stops thinking about Cat Noir once she’s Marinette again, which is part of that whole “seeing him as otherworldly” thing. Breaking out of that mindset is as important as it is for Adrien to break out of the “everyone would turn on me if I didn’t please them 24/7” one.
Basically: the conflict was resolved, but it showed where development still needs to happen.
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A Favor: Part Ten
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
warnings: NSFW (!!), light abuse mention
this chapter is dedicated to the amazing showstopping talented @duskandstarlight for reviewing my writing and helping me successfully edit the sexy times!! she's so cool yall ❤️
***
The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the sound of crackling, followed by a warm glow from the living area. The lights are all off, but the fireplace is ablaze.
Nesta’s brows furrow, confused, but then she sees on the couch— “Cassian?”
Cassian’s eyes widen at the sight of her, and he stands quickly from the couch. “Nesta.” He’s breathless. Like he ran a great distance to get here.
Nesta is worried that she had one Jello shot too many. That maybe she’s still in Eris’s car, dozed off and dreaming. She can’t remember falling asleep, though.
“What are you doing here?” she whispers. If she’s too loud, he might disappear.
“I came back.” His hands flex at his sides, and Nesta wishes for the millionth time that she was better at reading emotions, because she’d give anything to understand what’s going across his face right now.
“You’re supposed to be in Velaris for the weekend,” she says dumbly.
“Fuck the weekend. I couldn’t even make it through dinner.” Are his eyes red?
Nesta’s mouth opens and closes, and she turns toward the burning fireplace. Weirdly enough, she’s grateful for the lack of lights. She can’t see the depth of Cassian’s expression under the firelight alone, and he can’t see hers.
“Why?” is all she can say.
“I…” He scrubs a hand through his hair and blows out a harsh breath. “Shit, we promised we would take things slow just a few days ago.” He laughs derisively. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Nesta’s head swivels to Cassian, eyes focused on him in that intense way of hers. “Tell me. I want to know what you were thinking.”
He drops his head, staring at his shoes. “I missed you,” he says lowly. “Even though I knew you were doing perfectly fine without me, I drove all the way back here like an idiot because I wanted to see you.”
Nesta’s throat tightens the longer she stares at Cassian; it’s getting hard to breathe.
Cassian clears his throat in the silence, attempting to sound lighthearted. “So, that’s how I’m doing. What about you?”
“I had fun,” Nesta says, somewhat quiet.
“I saw.” He tries to smile. “You looked so happy in that picture. It made me happy.”
He’s telling the truth and lying at the same time, Nesta can tell. “I felt weird tonight, too,” she admits, swallowing. “Happy, but… lacking."
Cassian looks up at that.
“I’m really glad you came back,” she whispers. “I missed you too.”
“Nesta,” he breathes.
She takes a step closer to him. “I didn’t want to be clingy. Tell me if I’m being clingy.”
He shakes his head quickly.
“I don’t think you should leave me alone again,” she says into the dim glow of the room. "Not for a while, at least."
"I'm thinking the same thing."
He's right in front of her now, just inches away. She swallows; when did he get so close?
"If you want me to stop, I need to know now," Cassian says, voice low. His hands hover in the air between them, like he has to physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching her. "Because in a minute I won't remember why we agreed to take this slow."
All the air leaves Nesta's lungs in a straight whoosh. "I already forgot."
This kiss happens faster than the last one, but is somehow still slow— Nesta doesn't know which one of them moves first. All she knows is that one moment she's a lone figure, and the next she's joined with Cassian, his arms being the only thing still holding her upright.
He wasn't lying when he said he missed her, she finds out quickly. He kisses her with a drawn-out desperation that makes her head spin, using the distraction to ease her out of her coat and drop it to the floor. He pulls back for a sharp breath, only to take a look at her. "I can't believe I missed seeing you in a dress."
"I have more, we can look at them later," Nesta assures, her hands already reaching to tear the dress up and off of her. Cassian's hands catch hers at the last moment. "Easy, baby." He laces his fingers through hers. "I'm not going anywhere."
He pulls her in for another kiss before she can even process how much she likes the word baby. She latches onto his promise the way she latches onto his lips, like the string of a balloon about to fly away from her. He's not going anywhere. Not even to the next room.
The next minutes are the gentlest battle of wills Nesta has ever fought: every time she tries to speed things up, Cassian grounds her with his hands and mouth and towering form. When she becomes too impatient and reaches for the button of Cassian's jeans between kisses, he sweeps her right into his arms, forcing her legs to wrap around his waist and her arms to cling to his neck. His own hands slip right under her skirt, straight to her ass and squeezing.
The new angle presses her center firmly against his hard length, and she greedily accepts the simple pleasure he grants her with a choked gasp. "Can we please—"
"Don't rush this," Cassian murmurs into the underside of her jaw, walking them to the stairs. He stops to press her into the banister, rubbing his hips lazily into Nesta's. "I've waited a long time for you. Now it's your turn to wait." He bites down on a soft spot of skin.
This is real, Nesta finally realizes. This melting heat turning her limbs into jelly— it's not her mind wandering off to involuntary thoughts about Cassian's dick. The kind of thoughts that have her pinching her wrist hard enough to hurt. No, this is infinitely better than any three a.m. fantasy she's had so far.
He's carrying them upstairs now, but Nesta barely notices with how she's clasping his face, demanding all of his attention with her hungry kisses. It's a wonder they both don't topple down the steps with how starved she is for him.
How long has this need been building up in her? She doesn't want to know, even as the ache between her legs intensifies and she's eased onto a mattress. Blinking, she notices they're in Cassian's room. She hasn't been here since that night she was sick, and even then she didn't get a good look at the place through her haze of pain.
It's decorated with art and personal photos, big enough to carry a fireplace and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Her own room isn't half as nice. "You've been holding back from me," she accuses.
Cassian looks up from where he's kneeling between Nesta's legs at the foot of the bed, realizing that she's talking about the room. "Why?" he smirks. "You looking to move in?"
As if she can even consider such a thing right now when she's seconds away from combusting.
Like he knows exactly how she feels, Cassian pushes the hem of her black dress up until it bunches around her waist, leaving her painfully exposed. His eyes glaze over at the sight of her plain gray panties, narrowing on the darker damp spot over her slit. A predatory look crosses his face, one that makes goosebumps pebble along her thighs. He tugs her even closer.
"Cassian..."
It's too late for whatever Nesta is about to say, because Cassian isn't listening anymore. Leaning forward, he noses at her clothed crotch, placing a slow kiss on the wet fabric of her underwear before dragging it off entirely and tossing it aside.
Nesta gasps and squirms when he pulls her legs firmly over his shoulders. "Um," she tries to say, "I don't really have a great history of getting off to oral—"
She's interrupted by a long lick up her center, from the wetness pooling at her entrance to the tip of her clit. Her hips jerk involuntarily, and then Cassian is outright feasting on her, all his words of patience suddenly as meaningless as a snapped leash.
Nesta's head falls back against the mattress with both overwhelming pleasure and unexpected surprise. Getting eaten out has never done much for her in the past— most of the time she just ended up wet and frustrated, and not at all in a good way. She believed coming on someone's tongue was an activity best reserved for her romance novel heroines, never herself.
So when her legs start trembling around Cassian's head after not even a minute of calculated licking and openmouthed kissing—
"Oh— ah," Nesta stammers, hands fisted desperately in the bedsheets since she doesn't know where else to put them. The only thing stopping her from rubbing herself all over Cassian's face are his broad hands, pinning her firmly in place while he gives her what he wants.
His deep groan rumbles through her heated core, right down to her bloodstream. "There's no fucking way," he says against her folds, shaking his head. "Your fucking taste—"
At the same time his hands find hers, interlacing their fingers together, his lips wrap around her swollen clit, sucking hard.
A breathy whimper tears out of Nesta's throat as she's thrown into release, every last nerve in her body shot through with electric pleasure. Cassian keeps licking and toying at her folds, until she can feel the overstimulation all the way down to the arches of her feet. It's only then that she tries to squirm away, feeling too much at once.
Cassian relents, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, but the dark glint in his eyes says he has a new objective. "Aren't you glad you waited?" he rasps as he stands.
In Nesta's haze, she feels a tug of fabric, and then her dress is being pulled over her head. She can't remember if the bra she's wearing is a particularly sexy one, but before she can lift her head to check, it's being flung to the other side of the room to join the rest of her clothes. She doesn't even shiver, but sits up so she can grab at Cassian, any part of him—
He tries to catch her wrists before she can tear his clothes off, but Nesta isn't having any more of his waiting. Her hands dive under the hem of his sweater, his bare skin burning hot to the touch with arousal, and then he's shirtless. Her eyes rapidly skim over his scattered tattoos, not sure which one she wants to take in first as she fumbles with his pants.
"I'm going to learn all of you by the end of the night," she threatens, her focus catching on a pattern of thick black lines inked onto his ribs.
Cassian huffs a laugh at that, but the sound turns strangled when Nesta slips her hand into his jeans, palming him through his boxer briefs. He's— larger than she expected, but whatever apprehension she has quickly turns into nailbiting anticipation. This is real, she thinks for the hundredth time that night.
"You're one to talk," Cassian breathes as he lets Nesta rub and squeeze at him. He catches her slim wrist in his large hand, pulling it away from his cock despite her whine of disappointment. "I've been wanting to learn about you from day one."
His eyes narrow on a spot beneath her left tit, and he reaches out to brush the small mole there. "How many more of these do you have hidden?"
"You'll have to find them."
Cassian's gaze darkens, and Nesta can nearly feel time slowing down around them as he regains control of the pace, the tempo. Leaning forward with predatory intent, he crowds her until her back is once again pressed into the mattress. She shudders with expectation, her legs unconsciously parting wider around him. He bends his head until his breath fans over that mole, his lips about to brush it—
At the last moment, he pulls away, standing off the bed to strip the rest of his clothes off. Nesta scrambles onto her elbows, stretching her neck to get a look at his erect cock as it springs out, a furious shade of red.
She swallows roughly at the sight.
Cassian doesn't bother hiding his satisfaction at the look on her face. "Maybe it's for the best that I didn't know how much you wanted me earlier. I don't think my ego could have handled it."
"I..." Nothing comes to her mind for a witty comeback. She must look struck stupid, because Cassian chuckles, "Okay, my ego definitely can't handle it." He tugs at her legs so her elbows collapse beneath her.
Before they can do anything else, he seems to remember: "Condom."
Nesta shakes her head rapidly, unwilling— or unable— to give up even a second of the time between them. "I'm not on birth control for nothing."
Technically, she's on birth control to regulate her periods, but this is definitely an unexpected benefit.
Cassian's answering grin is both cocky and reverent before he moves. And as he crawls over her body, it strikes Nesta how far she's come to reach this place— this haven of warmth and safety. Because the last time she was in this position, she couldn't have imagined ever being able to feel like this. She never thought she could find or earn the adoration that shines in Cassian's eyes before he buries his face in her neck.
There's a kindness in his touch that takes her breath away.
"I think I fell asleep on the couch earlier," he whispers into the crook of her neck. "I think I'm dreaming right now, and I don't know how far I can take this without waking up."
Before Nesta can show him how decidedly awake they both are, her entire body freezes up as his roaming hands near the soft flesh of her sides. Muscle memory makes her abdomen clench in defense, and Cassian stills instantly, pulling away to look her in the eyes.
No, no, no! This is not the time for her body to overreact, not when she's so close to everything she's been wanting, needing for weeks. And still, her hands fly to grasp Cassian's wrists at her sides.
"Nesta?" His calloused fingers scrape against her skin, so different from Tomas's hands when they touched her. She shuts her eyes and takes a breath, trying to force herself back to that heartdropping state of arousal.
"Just—give me a moment," she promises. Her body is awake in anticipation, not of a good fucking but of being pinched and bruised blue.
"Nesta," Cassian says again, lower now. There's a hint of warning in his voice, but it's not directed at her.
She peeks open her eyes. Cassian looks deadly serious above her, and he peels his hands away from her sides to place them on the mattress instead. "What's wrong."
She clambers for something to say that won't completely kill the mood. "I'm ticklish?"
He isn't buying it, scanning her face intently for the truth instead.
It's not that Nesta doesn't want to tell him. It's that she doesn't want to tell him now, when she's already learned what an orgasm from Cassian feels like and she's been promised another one.
No way in hell will her ex-boyfriend get in the way of her first hookup since she left him. The unjustness of it ignites a frustration in her that burns away any lingering anxiety.
She places her hands on Cassian's, bringing them firmly back to her sides. Softly, she tilts her head up to peck his lips and whisper against his mouth, "You still have time to learn everything about me. I'll teach you myself. But right now..."
Her hand snakes down his hard abdomen, finding his thick length and squeezing. "I want to be fucked."
This truth, Cassian believes.
"I'll hold you to that promise," he warns before he dips his head, taking a pink nipple into his mouth and suckling hard. Nesta's damn eyes roll back at the perfection of this scene, this sensation that goes beyond physical pleasure, as he releases her nipple with a pop. "I'll learn everything." Not just her body, but her secrets, her soul, the way she breathes and feels and thinks.
What a terrifying vulnerability, yet her core tightens at the thought of it.
Cassian slips his hands beneath Nesta's thighs, supporting her as his cock finally, finally settles between her legs, pressing insistently against her slick entrance.
Nesta can't describe the sound she makes when he finally pushes into her, the luxurious stretch snapping an emotional cord in her. In Cassian, too, from the way he has to bow his head for a moment, his face pressed into her chest as they both catch their breaths.
After a long moment, he begins to move inside her at a steady pace that nearly makes her keen. Nesta can only let him grind her into the mattress, let him explore and play and touch while she writhes beneath him, head spinning so fast she's on the verge of blacking out. She couldn't have predicted such— closeness.
Clenching tight enough around his cock to make him swear, Nesta attaches her lips to the line of a compass tattoo on Cassian's bicep, shutting her eyes against the intensity of his gaze.
"Can't believe I don't have to pretend not to be obsessed with these anymore," Cassian rasps, palming a full breast. He rolls his thumb over her stiff nipple in fascination.
"As if you ever hid it," Nesta grits out, shuddering beneath him. She swallows down the obscene sounds rising up her throat. Not that it matters— her desperate panting seems to be doing more for Cassian than loud moans ever could. Raw tension laces his body as he pumps harder into her.
His thrusts hit so close to a spot she didn't know existed before now, awakening a greedy new ache—
"Lift your hips for me, baby." As if he can read her mind. Nesta arches her hips off the bed on instinct, allowing Cassian the angle to slide deeper than she thought possible, to grind against that sensitive patch of skin and fill her completely.
Holy shit. She doesn't know if she says the words aloud or not, because her face is pressed into the sweat-dampened pillow, eyes fluttering rapidly as she withstands this new immense pleasure.
Cassian's low moan tells her he knows how she feels. She's so close.
"Look at me, Nesta," he demands.
Nesta shakes her head fiercely into the pillowcase, unwilling to meet his gaze when she's strung up this tight. She might explode if she even breathes wrong.
"Open your eyes," he orders more urgently this time. His hand finds her face, forcing her to turn to him. She gasps at the next thrust, her eyes flying open to meet Cassian's dark hazel ones. The way he's looking at her—
He rubs a thumb down her cheek. "Beautiful."
She isn't prepared for the intensity of the release that barrels through her. She isn't aware of the sounds she makes as she clenches repeatedly around Cassian, hands scrabbling for a way out of this neverending rapture. It's too much, more than she can handle, and she can't—
Cassian clutches Nesta like a lifeline, his hips picking up speed. Through the last ebbs of her climax, Nesta winds her fingers through his hair, bringing him down for a final kiss. She holds him tight as he spills inside her, groaning desperately into her mouth.
Later, when dopamine floods her system and her muscles turn numb with relaxation, Nesta will think that there's a word for how she's feeling right now. She won't know what it is, though.
***
Cassian can't help but be proud of himself for keeping his cool. For not coming within five seconds of getting Nesta in his arms and around his cock, but also for not blurting anything embarrassingly vulnerable during their first time together. Or their second and third times.
Nesta isn't great with vulnerability, even now. But he's watching her try to grow comfortable with it as she traces one of his tattoos, her naked body propped half on top of his.
"I usually hate tattoos," she murmurs softly, almost to herself. "I cringe every time Feyre gets a new one. But these are nice."
Cassian glances down to where her finger points at the elaborate phoenix tattoo on his pectoral. "What do you like about them?" he asks. With Nesta, there's always a reason.
"I like their placement." She trails that finger down his chest with studious focus. "I like the dark lines; it reminds me of my coloring books." Her finger stops on a Celtic knot on the side of his ribs. "Overall, very aesthetically pleasing."
He chuckles. "Thank you for the stellar review."
She glances up at him then, those blue-gray eyes even more arresting now than the first time he saw them. He's never understood how they can be the same color as Feyre's yet so different.
"I still can't believe you walked out in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner to be here," she whispers. "What will your friends say?"
Cassian’s arm tightens around her. He's still not sure of the answer to that question. His phone blew up with so many texts and calls on the drive here that at one point he just turned it off, but he'll still have to come up with some believable excuse for his behavior.
He tries to find an answer to Nesta's question.
"I’ve known most of those guys for fifteen years," he finally says, "and I’ve only had you for a couple of months. I wanted more time with you." It's the best reasoning he can provide right now.
“Maybe I should feel bad.” He stares up at the ceiling. “But I just can’t.”
Nesta hums in thought. "You must really like me."
Cassian swallows. "Yeah. I do."
"You have for a long time, according to your words." She rests her chin on the crook of his shoulder and looks up at him. "How long? Since I first moved in?"
He thinks back to that fateful night, Nesta standing rainsoaked in his foyer with wary eyes. A turning point in his life, yes, but there was a night before that.
"Do you remember our first meeting?"
The overpriced restaurant that Feyre chose to introduce her blood family to her chosen family. The dim lighting that glanced off the silver pins in Nesta's hair, and her solemn stare as she inspected Cassian and his friends in her detached way.
Her eyes narrow, but she nods.
"I noticed you before I even noticed Feyre or Rhys," Cassian says. "You just... demanded attention. You never gave it, though. I spent all night being louder than usual, sneaking looks at you, but I couldn't even get a second glance in return."
Nesta's mouth tightens. "And what then?"
"The night ended. I forgot about you and moved on." She was like a shooting star: fascinating and beautiful for the brief moment she passed through his life, but quickly dismissed afterward. That initial impression of Nesta faded so much over the years that when Cassian finally reunited with her in his cabin, he was shocked by the magnitude of her existence all over again.
Nesta stays quiet, thinking. "You did get my attention," she finally says.
Cassian's brows raise, but she continues, "I thought you were too loud, too absorbed in your own friends to ever be worth having a conversation with. But I was just being snooty and... jealous." She looks down at the planes of his brown skin. "If I wasn't busy being comfortable in my role as social outcast, I would have thought you were kind. You looked like you wouldn't mind being my friend— that's why I noticed you. But you weren't my friend, and you couldn't be, and that's why I made myself look down on you."
Her eyes glitter when they dart back up to him, and her hand starts absentmindedly tracing another tattoo. "I do that sometimes," she murmurs. "Build a whole relationship in my head with someone I've just met, and then get mad when it isn't reality."
Cassian pulls a strand of hair back from her face. "That's called wanting to make friends, Nes. It's just that that part is usually followed by, you know, actually making friends."
She pouts adorably. "That's the part I suck at."
He can't help it. He leans forward and kisses the little beauty mark at the corner of Nesta's mouth, the mark that nearly received more attention than her lips tonight. Memories of the rest of the moles scattered along Nesta's body flood Cassian: her shoulder blade, her ribs, below her ass cheek, and that damn spot on her thigh he's been eyeing since week one. He's tasted every single one of them several times by now.
"You finally did it," he says against her mouth. "You got me as your friend and more, and now you have all those guys from school, too. You can get whatever the hell you want when you aren't holding yourself back."
She rolls her eyes, but evidence of a smile pulls at her lips. "Save the motivational speeches for my therapist."
Another thing Cassian is eternally proud of: Nesta finding a professional she's comfortable with and having her first session coming up soon.
"And what do you want?" she asks before his thoughts can trail off.
He blinks up at her. "Hm?"
She shifts on top of him to face him better. "We're always talking about my feelings and wants and needs. I don't think I've ever learned about what you want."
What does he want? He opens his mouth, but doesn't know how to answer. Shit, he's never had to answer that question. He's never been asked it.
"Take your time," Nesta assures him after a moment of silence. She's not being sarcastic.
He inhales the scent of her hair, thinking.
"You know," he finally says, "I'm always talking with my friends, and I always leave the conversation feeling like I didn't say a thing that was worth anything. Nothing serious, nothing weighty, nothing thoughtful. And it's not a bad thing, technically, but sometimes I just want to have a real conversation with them. Like the ones I have with you."
He doesn't know when he and Nesta started having those types of conversations. Maybe they fell seamlessly into it: she would ask him how to interpret different tones over text, and he would ask her about whatever legal concept or romance novel she was currently obsessed with. The topic didn't have to be serious, as long as their words were. It was the flawless exchange of intelligence, ideas, and opinions that he wasn't even aware he craved.
"What else do you want?" she says.
To not be relegated to comedic relief all the time. To be chosen first.
He boops her nose. "You've ruined me. I have everything I want now."
Nesta sneers down at him. "God, you're predictable." She's about to push off his chest when he pulls her back in, rolling them over so they're on their sides.
He tucks her head under his chin. "Nesta?"
"Hm."
"We're not gonna backpedal after this, right?"
She sighs into the crook of his neck. "No. We like each other. You're my boyfriend now." She says it like she's telling him the time or the weather.
Into her hair, Cassian starts to smile, any lingering doubts at once assuaged.
Some things you just know instantly, like how Cassian knew the minute he met Mor that they would be friends for life, or how he knew Feyre wouldn't have any trouble fitting into his family. Like how he knows now that he loves Nesta, even if he can't tell her just yet. He'll just have to keep pretending he only likes her.
***
a/n: the tattoo artist that designed the new acotar covers has some sick work so a lot of cassian's tattoos are based off their art (but smaller) :)
taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn
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If Escaping Expulsion ends with Luz and the others staying expelled from Hexside, I’m of course going to be depressed. For Willow and Gus it’s one thing, but also…
For Luz, Hexside was something special to her, it meant a lot. It wasn’t just some fun place… In a way, it was almost like another home to her alongside the Owl House! Someplace she could be happy, a place with other friends she could look forward to, a place where Luz could reliably expect not just Willow and Gus, but Amity, the Detention Kids, etc.!
Hexside is a place where she’s accepted by peers her age, by society in a sense; Where Luz can interact with strangers, meet new people, and not have to immediately brace herself for rejection, thanks to the reputation and work she earned from being brave and mature!
If anything, Luz can meet others, and expect love and support- People know Luz! Hexside is a place where the default opinion of Luz is actually pretty decent, thanks to her accomplishments at Grom, and her own victory at Grudgby!
Hexside is a place where Luz can learn and pursue her interests without having to worry about Eda, just all to herself- A monument to her own effort to earn multi-track learning, but also to Eda’s effort… Luz’s own presence at Hexside is proof that somebody else cares for her, enough to go out of their way and work for this. To get Luz this special, extra thing, even when it’s not necessary, just for Luz’s happiness and extra fulfillment, so she can get the best of anything!
Hexside is also kind of a remedy of Luz’s past with traditional school; School, but done right, healed and fixed. A school experience that has replaced the negative associations like bullying and loneliness, getting called to the principal’s office, and instead replaced them with something good and positive!
It’s a new set of experiences that has conquered Luz’s usual past and trauma with school, proven to her that things CAN be different, that it CAN work out for her, and she’s not JUST a freak- That she can indeed engage with the rest of society, and not just cut herself off from it entirely! She doesn’t have to be just alone… Luz doesn’t need wide acceptance, but it sure feels nice, and in a sense I think she got that at Hexside. Got to interact with other kids just like her, in an immediately positive, default manner.
…But of course, Odalia and Alador took that from her. Luz just wants to be accepted, to feel like there isn’t something inherently wrong with her, and what they’re doing… It sends a different kind of message, forces her out. Violently and suddenly uproots everything Luz is familiar with, when she’s settled and finally relaxed and lowered her guard, and genuinely started to believe that she’s good and lovable and deserves nice things, that nice things WILL come to her! That she doesn’t always have to fight tooth and nail for that, just to constantly assert her worth and dignity as a person. Odalia and Alador took that from her, and even if Luz KNOWS that people do still like her there, that this is really just the effort of two prejudiced people who are hardly representative of anything worthwhile;
It still of course hurts to be cut off like that, so forcibly. So suddenly. To have that barred, to have all of that opportunity and wondrous future, all of the possibilities and future interactions and potential friends that Luz had considered; To have that irreversibly, definitively taken away from her, out of some cruel spite for the very person she is, out of a disgust for that… That Luz’s own nature brought this about, in a sense.
And even if Luz does enroll at another school like say Glandus, or is content with her home lessons with Eda… It still sucks to have that taken from her. To have someone tear apart such a huge portion of her life like that, to have that agency taken away from her. To just lose all of that, and all of the happy memories she had, and could’ve looked forward to… It’s all so frustratingly selfish of Odalia and Alador!
Hexside was a place where Luz made her mark, left a legacy, and now she can no longer interact with that, she’s been forcibly exiled, and it no doubt reminds her of the loneliness she’s used to back home. Luz feels like an outcast again, like she’s been rejected once more by a place that was home, or could have or should’ve been.
Schools are supposed to be a safe place for kids, a place they can thrive- And now it was forcibly twisted into something hostile for Luz, yet again, when previously she thought that the change she made, really could’ve made a lasting difference. And of course what memories she DID make at Hexside still matter… But it would’ve been nice for things to stick around for once, for Luz to not have to brace herself for losing things. For once, it would’ve been neat for things to be nice and stay that way, to stay consistently safe for her, for Luz to not have to worry about the future or change or anything. She’s never taken that for granted, so why can’t she have that?
Stuff like Hexside SHOULD be there for Luz, always, a kid deserves something to rely and depend on, to trust. And Odalia and Alador… They’re breaching that trust, because they can’t even keep their abuse within their own family, and have to attack others outside of it as well, people just minding their own business- It’s borderline intrusive and invasive, and makes people feel unsafe, that they can’t even mind their own business in their own space…
Now they have to actively defend that, keep others out when otherwise they could openly be invited in, and they were already so lonely to begin with. If they couldn’t have others with them, can they not at least have this particular space to themselves, without having to worry about others coming after them- Why can’t people like Luz, or Willow, or Gus or Eda or Amity, just be left alone!? Why can’t they just BE themselves, if it’s not actively harming anyone else?
But of course, people like Odalia and Alador, or Belos, that’s not enough- And they’ll always need that kind of control, to project onto others like that. To decide for others, as part of some twisted entitlement on how things should be, for THEIR own sake really. And it’s because of people like them, that people like Luz, can’t just get nice things, have nice things, and keep them.
#the owl house#the owl house season 2#the owl house luz#luz noceda#hexside#the owl house odalia#odalia blight#the owl house alador#alador blight#meta
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What kills me in fics is when you have tags going like "Good brother Jason", which, cool, but in the same story there's " Dick TRIES to be a Good Brother" LOL way to switch the dynamics. I also tend to stay clear of the ones where the centric character seems to have a platonic relationship tag with everyone (including the ones where they're antagonists in canon like Jason & Tim) except Dick. You can feel the hate/dislike/prejudice a MILE away.
Yeeeeeeah. You are definitely not alone. Like pretty much every Dick Grayson stan I’ve ever talked to on the subject stays the hell away from any fic tagged “Dick Grayson tries to be a good brother.”
LOL like....it’s basically what I was talking about in that older post I just reblogged a few minutes ago. That thing where Dick’s actions or choices in a canon story or fic aren’t judged on their own merits but are rather inherently weighed against some hypothetical perfect choice that he DIDNT make and so he’s basically evaluated based on how much he falls short of that mark each time instead of anything he actually did.
Sorry not sorry, but I’m just not interested in stories that TRANSFORM the character most commonly referred to as the emotional glue of the family and the only one who consistently even CARES about them all being a family....into the fumbling incompetent relationship disaster man who at best gets credit for at least putting in an attempt at being there for his family.
Especially not when Bruce and Jason and Tim are praised for doing the bare minimum in canon when it comes to family interactions while everything Dick ACTUALLY did is just completely ignored and overwritten in order to make his Failure to People Good the narrative obstacle to be overcome.
Now, the “Dick Grayson Tries To Be A Good Brother” tag applied to Tim-centric fics in particular tho....hoo boy I am out of there so fast there’s a Kool-Aid Man shaped hole in the wall and not a sign of me as far as the horizon.
Like, currently my Pet Peeve Thermostat is set to Battle for the Cowl-referencing fics that don’t use this tag but very much are in that spirit. You probably know the ones, like their summaries suggest they’re open to considering Dick’s side of the situation but turns out the author at most is throwing him a “well at least you tried not to suck” bone while still reading him the riot act for very much still sucking.
Because what drives me up a flipping WALL here in particular, when I naively click on a link that seems different from the usual and ignore the voice of experience because I’m just desperate enough for Tim and Dick food that doesn’t just go on and on about how Dick ruined their brotherhood and it will never be truly repaired....
What makes the fruit bats in my belfry go absolutely B-A-N-A-N-A-S is not just the super fun realization that Psych! You thought this fic might be different but it’s actually the same!
Nah.
It’s how much people, both writers AND commenters, just absolutely LOVE to reference Tim’s shitbag parents and how emotionally abusive and neglectful they were (all true and valid, btw, let’s be totally clear about that)....but bringing them up here specifically to emphasize just how great Dick’s ‘betrayal’ was and how what he did makes him no better than them.
It’s like. Oh. I see.
So because after twenty years worth of stories about Dick dropping everything the second Tim needs him, whether it’s for help or just advice or even just reassurance or comfort or ANYTHING ....because after two decades worth of content showing Dick absolutely doting on Tim in their EVERY SINGLE interaction and buttressing his self confidence at every opportunity, never passing up a chance to call him his brother and emphasize that they’re family and he loves Tim and is so proud of him...
Because after all that there’s a story whose very premise forced Dick to choose between two kids, both still very much his brothers and their shared father’s sons even if one was new to him and didn’t have the same history the other two had....
Because by the very nature of the story Dick had no choice but to prioritize one over the other due to them both hating each other and Dick already being stretched to his absolute limits trying to live his dead father’s life and take on everything Bruce used to do at the cost of giving up everything Dick had chosen for his own life and wants and priorities, all while dealing with his own grief....
And with it being inevitable that the boy he DIDNT choose to prioritize was going to be hurt....
Because after twenty years of never failing to put Tim first the second Tim needed him, never even putting HIMSELF first OVER Tim....because for the first time Dick felt that someone else he felt obligated to, felt a responsibility towards, actually needed him MORE than Tim....
And for that reason and that reason ONLY, Dick picked that other boy, all while trying his best to tell Tim that he still needed him, still valued him, all the things that Bruce DIDNT tell him when he took Robin not even because he thought someone else needed it at the time but simply to take away, with absolutely nothing Dick said in any way negating or contradicting any of his many, MANY assurances to Tim over the years that they were brothers and always would be and with them still very much legally brothers and with concrete ties to each other that declared them family even WITHOUT the connection of Robin....
Because after and despite ALL OF THAT, Dick picked the brother that he didn’t know and frankly didn’t even LIKE, because he knew no one else was going to pick this kid and he also knew he’d already picked Tim a hundred times before and hoped that at least all that HISTORY of past focus and attention he’d given Tim to help build him up, give him foundations to build further upon, that hopefully at least that history that was still there, still relevant, still something Tim had actively benefited and grown from in ways Dick now hoped to help Damian....like surely this would be of at least SOME significance to Tim, SOME kind of proof of how much Dick loved and valued Tim....
Because one time and one time ONLY, Dick DIDNT put Tim’s needs first, not because he didn’t want to or because he was being selfish or short sighted or simply didn’t care, but rather solely because this one time Tim’s needs were in direct opposition with the needs of another young boy Dick saw as his responsibility and in even greater need and with even less of a foundation than the one Dick had helped Tim build....
This puts Dick on the same level as Tim’s shitbag parents, the ones who are infamous for (and practically synonymous with) emotional abuse and neglect. Dick’s basically interchangeable with them now. Certainly no better than them. Tim’s entire emotional well-being rested on Dick and Dick alone and nothing he’d provided Tim with in the past counts, just this one moment in time right here right now, that’s the entirety of their relationship see, it all comes down to this and nothing else, and because Dick didn’t put Tim first, no matter WHAT his reasons or how much he wanted to, he has officially failed Tim as hard as the neglectful parents who did nothing BUT neglect, ignore and just not give a shit at all, simply because they couldn’t be bothered to.
Yeah.
That’s neat.
#and please before certain people get all up in their righteous umbrage and declare a blood feud against me for this#take note of how nowhere did I say Tim doesn’t have the right and reason to be hurt#because of course he does#you will never see me claiming otherwise#but just because someone was hurt that doesn’t mean that someone did it to hurt them#and that is the distinction so many fans don’t seem to care to make#I’ve literally seen people call Dick emotionally abusive and neglectful for this era of canon and holy shit people#in terms of abuse specifically you absolutely can be abusive without meaning to#hell this is basically the nature of neglect. they’re not TRYING to hurt a child because the entire problem is the child#doesn’t even rate as much of a presence in their awareness as they should#but people can yell it’s just their interpretation all they want about this era of canon#but it’s flat out not true. it’s their transformation of the material not an interpretation of it#because you literally have to CHANGE what Dick ACTUALLY says to Tim to paint him as neglectful or not caring about his emotional well-being#you have to CUT OUT all mention of the times Dick tried reaching out to Tim or checking up on him in order to paint Dick as simply moving#on with his shiny newer little brother#that’s not a difference of interpretation. that’s an act of transformation. changing details of a story that isn’t reading the way you want#it to....until it DOES say what you want it to#and the problem has NEVER been some of us just being unwilling to let people have their headcanons#the problem is people’s refusal to call them headcanons or AUs or anything that acknowledges they’ve transformed the source material#in order to CREATE the interpretation they’re going with#AND OTHER FANS HAVE EVERY RIGHT IN THE WORLD TO SAY YEAH WE’RE NOT TRYING TO TALK ABOUT YOUR TRANSFORMATION OF CANON THO#we’re literally trying to talk about what you transformed it FROM....and the fact that despite all your complaints about canon character#choices....some of you repeatedly make the CHOICE to change canon not just to fix or address the poor character choices you don’t like for#your faves.....but also at the same time making this other character do the very stuff you claim to hate canon having your faves do#and that is your CHOICE. AND YOU GET TO MAKE IT. BUT IT IS STILL A CHOICE TO MAKE CHANGES#NOT simply a different interpretation of the foundational material#like you guys keep trying to pass it off as#and that MATTERS#it matters quite a lot in fact
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While I appreciate that you want a person to live, have you considered that you are just another person who has refused them help? Sometimes it doesn’t get better. For how many years, and from how many people, is a person supposed to be ok with being dehumanized before it is ok for them to throw the towel in?
Telling someone what caliber of gun is most likely to kill them so they can start a savings fund for it isn’t helping; refusing to respond to that with anything other than mental health resources isn’t refusing to help.
But okay we’re going to have the It Gets Better talk.
I am almost thirty four years old. I’ve been getting treated for depression for literally more than half of my life. I have spent even MORE of my life than that kind of wishing that I was dead and occasionally REALLY wishing I was dead and sort of getting off my ass to do something about it. I have the standard CSA/multiple rape survivor Oh No The Trauma backstory and spent the last *nine* years living with an emotionally abusive relative who had recently taken to tracking my activity by filming me in my home.
I kind of hate “it gets better” narratives because you know what, sometimes life is shit and it doesn’t really get all that much better. Sometimes things are bad and the only thing that gets you out of the abuser’s house is the fact that your partner nearly died. Sometimes everything sucks and it sucks for a long time and there’s no end of the suck in sight.
I have friends who are chronically, degeneratively ill. I know “It Gets Better” doesn’t really help them because they aren’t going to get better. They’re going to stay sick, they’re going to keep hurting, and in a lot of cases things are going to get worse.
So “It Gets Better” kind of rubs me the wrong way. I’d like to reframe it.
You get better at dealing with the bullshit.
Sometimes your situation doesn’t improve but how you approach it does. You may be stuck in the same shit but dedicating less mental space to caretaking an abuser’s emotions. You may still be dealing with daily pain but you’ve gotten to know what triggers it and what to avoid. You may be stuck in a miserable, terrifying situation and have a rich and thriving community of fanfic authors you talk to when shit gets to be too heavy.
The people who “it gets better” narratives tend to be really helpful for are young people who don’t have any autonomy who are close to being old enough that they’ll finally get to make some choices about their lives.
It’s harder dealing with feeling trapped as an adult because you can��t generally escape the things that are trapping you by living in a college dorm or getting an apartment with a bunch of roommates or coming out because you may have already done those things OR you may be in a place where those things aren’t possible for you.
So what do you do?
Well, for starters instead of saving up money for the best kind of gun to kill yourself with save up money for something stupid and funny that you like. Save up money for a tattoo, save up money for an arcade-size DDR cabinet and pads, save up money to buy a camera to make a youtube channel of you doing bad cover songs. (And if you don’t have money to save up then take up a free hobby; if you’ve got access to the internet to send me anons about how to kill yourself you’ve got access to the internet to use AO3 and I strongly recommend you start writing self-insert fic where you get to hang out with the cool fictional characters you like because it’s sort of like maladaptive daydreaming but people will stop by and say nice things about it and you feel validated when the numbers go up)
If you *can’t* fix your situation (because you live in a country that doesn’t recognize your gender, because you’re poor and have to live with people who hurt you, because you’ve got such deep and overwhelming anxiety that making the change seems impossible, because you don’t want to abandon someone more vulnerable than you to the bad situation) then do something, ANYTHING, that you and you alone are in charge of. You’re in charge of your bad cover songs youtube channel. You’re in charge of the smiley face tattooed on your ass. You’re in charge of what happens in your totally self-indulgent, fluffy, found family fic.
Find one thing, ONE THING, that allows you to assert your autonomy and everything gets a lot easier from there because A) you’ve got proof you can do something for yourself and B) you’ve now got something to fall back on when you ask yourself “why do I keep going?”
You keep going because you like your gender affirming roleplay group online. You keep going because you want a horrible butterfly tattooed on the other ass cheek. You keep going because you want to see how many kudos the next update gets.
And while you’re doing all of that you’re making a plan.
Let’s not kid ourselves here, suicidal people are GOOD at making plans. Not at keeping them all the time, but good at making them.
So you plan to get out.
You might not *keep* that plan but if you can sit and fantasize about eating a gun so that the pain will stop then you can sit and fantasize about buying a plane ticket or running away or looking for a different doctor so the pain will stop.
Do the little things that you can do. Write fic, go fishing, fold paper cranes, take long walks by yourself, pet a cat, get a tongue piercing, read a book. Do the little things that you can control, that you enjoy, that you do just for you.
And while you’re doing that think about the train you’re going to take to leave, how much nicer the nurses will be at the new doctor, how great it’s going to feel to dress in a way that feels right.
And even if it doesn’t work and you’re stuck living with a shitty abusive harpy who screams you awake and makes you have panic attacks whenever you hear her moving around the house you’ll get better at dealing with the bullshit. You’ll build up a space for you in your head where the bullshit isn’t there.
And then maybe someday the outside matches the inside. Maybe your friend needs a roommate, maybe you get a job that pays better, maybe a new medication is released. You don’t know for sure that it’s going to happen, there’s no guarantee it’ll happen, but at least if it doesn’t happen you’ve carved out a little space for yourself where you can survive.
ALSO
I know that a huge number of suicidal people are suicidal because they feel helpless.
One way to IMMEDIATELY make yourself feel less helpless is to help someone else. Here’s an app where you can give visual assistance to blind and low-vision people: https://www.bemyeyes.com/
The world is shitty and everything sucks and sometimes you can’t make your own situation better, but you can write video and image transcriptions on tumblr and maybe that’ll cheer someone else up.
Anyway, it’s not up to me to say when anybody else has had enough, but I figure you shouldn’t try to kill yourself until you’ve gotten a stegosaurus in an admiral’s hat tattooed on your thigh or something because who knows, that could be the thing that makes you feel better enough to keep going and if you’ve put up with the pain and bullshit this long what do you have to lose by putting up with it a little longer?
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