#tw: severe verbal abuse

[cubbihue]

Have there been times the Turner parents have suspected something but shrugged it off?

They have never suspected Timmy Turner of anything! Despite often expressing regret or disappointment, they still very much love their son! And all the benefits he brings them!!

The Turners are a well established family in the neighborhood. It wouldn't bode them well to go around casting doubt against their own son. It'd affect their reputation terribly!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[dappersautismcreature]

not gonna lie id like if people start tagging roier pepito lore with child abuse tws cause im well,, getting triggered. not just that but also the whole not trusting people as like, a conspiracy, is affecting my paranoia so i think imma try to step away for a second

[mrshesh]

i saw on your rules that you don’t write hardcore nsfw, so im gonna try to stay tame LOL

how would ghost be in bed? i feel like im so conflicted about this topic

ghost in bed - simon "ghost" riley x reader

overview: how simon "ghost" riley would be like in bed

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: smut, fluff

a/n: i'm actually so passionate about this topic. he's very misrepresented in our fandom, so i'd like to give my two cents regarding this topic. thanks for the request, anon!

TW! mentions of SA, abuse, suicide, and torture. proceed with caution.

Contrary to popular belief, he is not the rough dom everyone makes him out to be. He wouldn’t slap or spit on you. He wouldn’t push your head into the mattress and call you the filthiest words that come to mind - no, he’d be gentle, careful, and loving. 

Simon has been through hell and back - he knows what it feels like to be hurt better than anyone. Physically, verbally, emotionally, and psychologically, you name it! He knows it all, so he doesn’t get off on it. 

His past is extremely gut-wrenching. He got betrayed by everyone, even his own team. He got tortured for months and months on end, to the point where he got severe PTSD and anxiety. He suffers from nightmares and panic attacks and has even tried to take his own life. We also know that he got SA’d in the past, in the months he got gravely tortured. (Reading the comic was seriously terrifying.)

The fact that his father was abusive isn’t helping his case, either. 

And on top of that, he dislikes exposing his body and face. 

So best believe he’s only sleeping with you when you fully trust each other.

And when he does have sex with you, my god, it’s gentle. 

He loves missionary and sitting cowgirl. Being able to hold you close, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, and press his forehead against yours - those things he’d do during sex, not choke you till you pass out.

He has lost everything he has ever loved, so losing what he loves the most, you, is out of the question for him. And that results in him being extremely cautious while having sex. He’s terrified of scaring you away. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear constantly. “I love you so much.” “Takin’ me so well.” “You’re so beautiful.” 

His face is redder than a tomato. Having intimacy with someone he loves is a pretty new thing to him, so his cheeks are painted a light pink from the get-go. 

The aftercare consists of soft kisses, compassionate touches as he cleans you up, and praise, so much praise. 

The moral of the story - he's a gentle giant who's absolutely terrified to lose you, despite his hard rock exterior.

this turned dark really quick, but it had to be said.

[ivystoryweaver]

Day 11: I Never Knew (Marc, Jake, Steven)

Summary: You meet up with all 3 Moon Boys one fateful night

Notes: gn!reader, angst, violence, fluff, protective Moon Boys being the absolute best TW: abuse. This story starts with an abusive boyfriend.

Word Count: 4.8k

Angstember Prompt Post

Your boyfriend of two years had tested the last of your patience. At first you loved his passionate hotheadedness. You quickly fell for him and moved in together six months later. It was lovely at first, to have someone fun and spontaneous, to sleep next to a warm, protective body at night.

After about a year together, you realized something wasn't right. Your boyfriend kept odd hours, whispered hushed conversations over the phone, made "quick stops" at the oddest hours to the shadiest places.

And that hotheaded passion sizzled into blame and resentment every time you tried to reason with him. He was always quick to apologize, to bring you flowers, or a gift, to take you out for the night, lavishing you with attention and intense, vigorous sex.

So you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was trying, and every couple had their struggles.

But the fuse of his temper got shorter, and his actions, more suspect. He lost his regular job but somehow still brought home money. When you questioned him, he accused you of not trusting him. Something felt wrong, you knew it deep in your bones, but you told yourself that relationships take work and compromise.

It was just last week that you demanded to know why he was out all night - who he was with and where they went. He'd raised his voice before, on occasion, but that early morning was different. He roared out accusations, lunging at you, and continued yelling and screaming over your cowered body. He didn't touch you, but his words beat you down, literally to the ground, where he left you afraid, sobbing and alone.

That's what it took to make you realize he was abusive. Clearly, he was now verbally abusive, but you started to understand that he had been manipulative, dishonest and controlling the entire time, lying about finances and whereabouts.

He had abused you in almost every way, except physically. You knew it was time to leave, so you started to plan how you would secure yourself a place to stay and what to tell him.

Your phone rang as you finished packing your suitcase - the first of many things you needed to move out. Not recognizing the number, you ignored the call. But it rang again and again and again, with a voicemail that warned you to answer. You blocked the number and tried to frantically dial emergency when your boyfriend burst through the front door, enraged.

Barreling into your bedroom, he roared at you, demanding to know what you did with "the money". Apparently, the phone call was from his boss, calling to collect.

"You mean my money? From my job?" You challenged, shrugging him off and zipping your suitcase closed.

Jerking the luggage out of your hand, he screamed at you about how he needed that money for his boss, how he'd taken care of you all this time, and you owed him.

"You're gonna give me that fuckin' money," he spat, lunging toward you, but you were already running out the door with only your phone in your hand. You thankfully made it into the lift with the doors closed before he caught up, and you could only pray he wouldn't make it down the several floors of stairs and beat you to the lobby.

There was no one downstairs to help you, so you raced out the door into the night, frantically attempting to dial 999 while crying and trying to stay ahead of your insane boyfriend.

You ran as fast as you could, but he was bigger and stronger, and he was gaining on you. Attempting to cut through an alley, your lungs burned, painfully dragging in breath as you pushed yourself toward safety.

But he found you.

Your mobile clattered to the ground as he grabbed both your arms and shoved you hard against a brick wall, calling you all manner of vile names and demanding you give him the money from your account.

Noticing your phone, he twisted your wrist well beyond the point of pain. "You didn't call anyone, did you, bitch? If you get the police involved I'll fucking kill you."

You had already drained your joint account and put money in your personal savings account so that you could afford a deposit on a new place, at least get a moving truck and hook up some utilities. You didn't take any more money than you had made from your job at the museum.

"I owe my boss money and I need it right fucking now," he bellowed, wrapping one hand around your throat and squeezing. “Tell me where it is.”

Unbelievable that it took you til right now to realize your boyfriend was more than an asshole, he was apparently a criminal. Or at least his boss might be if he was demanding a midnight payoff "or else".

"I moved... the money," you gasped, completely out of breath from the running and the crying and the choking and the fear.

He gripped your shoulders and slammed you hard against the wall. "We're going to get it right now. Then we're going home and you're gonna get on your hands and knees and pay for all this shit you put me through."

You whimpered, trembling at his threats, disgusted that his eyes flashed with self-satisfaction. He slipped two fingers into your mouth, pushing them far enough to gag you, an evil chuckle making you cry harder.

"Oh yeah. We're gonna have fun tonight, baby."

"I don't think she wants to be your 'baby', shithead."

You gasped as two eerie, white gloved hands grabbed your boyfriend's head and slammed it against the wall, hard enough to knock him out cold, but not enough to bash his skull in. Unfortunately.

Through your tears, you saw an etherial mummy figure, bandaged and gauzey white, with haunting, moonlit eyes. Your body quaked with more terror than you'd ever known. Perhaps he was the boss your boyfriend was so afraid of.

You passed out in Moon Knight’s arms.

"Shit," Marc Spector hissed, lifting your limp body into a protective embrace. He'd heard your screaming blocks away. Khonshu had directed him to the asshole passed out on the pavement next to you, letting Marc know he was a small player in an elaborate criminal organization. It would keep him busy tonight.

Brushing your hair out of your eyes, he sighed. "Didn't mean to scare you." He decided to take you to A&E, but before he walked away, he kicked your unconscious boyfriend in the side for good measure.

You woke up on a hospital bed, alone, a long while later. It appeared you had been triaged but not admitted. Remembering your boyfriend's threats, you decided you better bail before the police questioned you or you found yourself responsible for medial bills you couldn't pay.

You were scraped and sore, but nothing seemed permanent, so you did your best to sneak back to the waiting room where you could blend in with other would-be patients. One nurse seemed to glance at you questioningly, but you managed to make it out the sliding glass doors and into the night.

Now what could you do? You had no money, no phone, no purse, no bank card, credit cards or cash. Your suitcase was back at your flat. Ambling around the side of the building, you shivered in the night air, realizing even your jacket was still in the building.

Tears burned your eyes but you couldn't give into them. Not now. Your best friend was out of town. It was a long weekend for your co-workers, at least in the office part of the museum. Your parents lived in another country.

Think, think.

A few minutes later, an old fashioned cab pulled up to the curb. The passenger side window lowered revealing a man with a flat cap and a mustache.

"Need a ride, señorita?"

Drawing your hands to your chest protectively, you quickly shook your head. "I-I don't have any money. I dropped my phone."

Shit. Why did you admit that to a stranger?

Jake Lockley nodded understandingly. He had been watching the hospital to make sure you had a ride, should you emerge. Marc's idea, after he did a little late night ass kicking. Marc knew the Moon Knight suit would frighten you, but he wanted to make sure you were okay. A cab ride might seem less intimidating.

"It's on me. You look like you could use a little help."

Tempting. But he probably worked for your boyfriend's boss. "No. No thank you. I'm fine."

"Understood. Be careful out there." He rolled up the window almost all the way before pausing. "I'll swing back by in a while, just in case you change your mind." He drove off without another word.

If he was aiming to hurt you or kidnap you, surely he could have forced you into the car, or worked harder to convince you it was safe to get into the car.

Weighing your options, you decided to try to walk back to the alley where the terrifying white-suited, Avenger-looking dude saved you. Hopefully your boyfriend would be gone and you could at least find your phone. From there, you would have a way to call a cab or the police or at least use money from your account.

As soon as you started walking, you realized how stupid this plan was. But what else could you do? It took you forever, but you finally found your way back to where you were attacked. Your boyfriend was indeed gone and after a maddening search, you found your phone with a cracked screen and 12% battery left.

Better than nothing. You thought you might order an Uber, but where could you go? Not home. Where?

Maybe to work. Someone there would help you, surely. Perhaps Steven from the gift shop - probably the kindest person you'd ever met. He lived in your building too, although you weren't sure in which flat.

You ordered the Uber, and ten minutes later, the same old fashioned cab pulled up to the curb. Your stomach flip-flopped, wondering if this mustached weirdo followed you. But he showed you the Uber confirmation and it was correct.

"But this is a cab," you reasoned.

He chuckled. "They don't make ‘em like this anymore, doll. This is my Uber car."

You tried to listen to your protective instincts, but the sun was rising. You'd been out all night and he was a legitimate driver. So you tucked yourself in the back seat.

The man tipped his hat, announced his name was Jake, and closed the door for you.

"Headed home?" He asked, glancing up at you in his rearview mirror.

"Uh no. No, I can't go home," you quickly answered, wrapping your arms around yourself and rubbing up and down with your hands.

"Got the heat on for you," he kindly offered, "and my jacket's laying across the back seat there, if you need it."

Your eyes cut over to the tempting leather. Without thinking about it too hard, you snatched the garment and pulled it around your trembling shoulders. The smell of not only leather but crisp freshness and earthy warmth, along with something like amber and oak, washed over you. You buried your nose in the comfort of it, grateful for this small mercy.

"Warming up?" He asked you after a quiet few minutes.

"Yes, thank you. You're very kind."

"My pleasure," he grinned in the rearview mirror and it made his eyes crinkle. Steven, from the museum, came to mind. His eyes did that too. "Where can I drop you? Have you decided yet or should I drive around for a while?"

"Oh god, sorry. One sec." Checking the time on your phone, you realized you'd been out practically all night, and the museum would open in a little more than an hour. You could wait outside. "The natural history museum, please."

"A little early for a trip through time. You sure?"

Just then, your stomach growled embarrassingly loudly.

"You ever eat at the bakery right down the street?"

"Um, sometimes." You fidgeted uncomfortably.

"No pressure. You just look like you could use something warm to drink."

Without another word, Jake pulled up to the museum's front entrance. You reached for the door handle, but stopped. "Actually...you're right. Could you drive me to the bakery? I'll just walk back to the museum when I'm done."

"As you wish."

A few minutes later, the old cab parked outside one of the only open restaurants at this hour. Jake rushed around to open the door for you and you quickly handed him his jacket.

"You can wear it if you're cold. No rush."

There was something warm and sincere in his eyes. Again your mind drifted to Steven.

"Thank you." As the two of you walked inside, you held up your phone. "I tried to pay for the Uber and leave you a tip, but it won't let me. Did the transaction get cancelled or something?"

"I told you," Jake reminded you, pulling open the bakery door, "My treat."

"Oh. Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

The two of you sat down and were quickly served glasses of water.

"At least let me pay for breakfast," you offered, but he laughed.

"They only take cash here, I think."

"Jake!" An older man bellowed, bustling up to the table with a karafe of piping hot coffee and two mugs. "We take more than cash. You can always wash the dishes."

The man winked down at you. "I'm teasing, sweetheart. Name's Burt. Janey got one of those Square things, so you can pay on your mobile if you do that kind of thing." He nodded at Jake. "But I'd make this one pay if I were you. Coffee or tea?"

You chuckled, happy to get your hands on a steaming mug of coffee, and slightly relieved that you wouldn't fall further into Jake's debt.

Soon enough, you filled your belly with a warm, flaky pastry and some eggs, polishing off two cups of coffee while you and Jake talked.

"Do you mind if I ask why you're going to the museum?" Jake inquired.

"Um...I work there," you slowly admitted.

"Oh." An unreadable expression clouded his handsome features. "But...I found you at the hospital last night. Are you hurt?"

Your eyes dipped in shame.

"Not trying to be nosy, just...concerned, is all." Gently reaching across the table, he pulled a leaf from your hair. An actual leaf.

You were mortified.

"Wanna freshen up before work?" He nodded toward the washroom.

"Yeah. Thanks." You made a beeline for the loo, wondering why you hadn't thought to put yourself together before walking into the museum like a crazy person.

Jake was right to be concerned. You looked like hell. Dark circles had formed under your eyes. Before you could continue silently berating yourself, the waitress named Janey quietly slipped through the swinging door.

"You okay, dear?" She softly asked, eyeing you in the mirror. Before you could answer, she handed you a clean cloth.

"Thank you," you whispered, gingerly taking the cloth and running it under the faucet. The kindness around you made you sniffle, and you were left wondering why you spent so much time on an asshole like your boyfriend.

"Rough night?" She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't want to pry. Just want to help."

"Thanks," you repeated. "Do you have a toothbrush for sale? Or...mints?"

Between you and Janey, you managed to clean up your mouth, wipe down the upper part of your body and manage to tame your hair.

"You come back by any time, dear," she said lowly as you walked back toward your table, but she reached out her arm to stop you. "I mean it. Anytime."

You nodded, reaching for your phone so you could pay for your meal. "On the house, sweetheart," Burt smiled down at you. "A friend of Jake's is a friend of mine."

You were speechless. Where had all the nice people been hiding?

Jake's eyes lit up when he saw you and he rose to greet you. "Feeling any better?"

You nodded, reaching for one more sip of water before you got back in the cab/Uber.

"Your friends are really nice. I haven't eaten there in a long time."

"We try to help each other out," Jake voiced, stealing a glance at you in the rearview mirror. "It can be rough out there."

You made it to the museum, thankful it would open soon. "You sure I can't pay you, or at least give you a good tip?" You asked him as he opened your door and offered you his gloved hand like a prince in a fairy tale.

"Just promise you'll call me if you need a ride. Or...anything. We'll call it even." He fidgeted with his mustache and you chuckled. Not a look you saw every day but he wore it well.

You thanked him again, but he noticed you stealing glances at his mustache.

"My uh...roomates think this thing is the worst. Not a good look?"

"Oh no," you laughed, "it's very dashing."

Jake bowed jokingly. "My lady."

You walked right into the museum wearing his jacket.

The security officer didn't recognize you because he worked weekends and you didn't. Probably a good thing. You could only hope Steven was scheduled today. But at least being inside the museum would give you a safe, comfortable place to think.

After meandering through several exhibits, you checked back at the gift shop, only to find Donna, Steven's boss, berating him for being late. He apologized profusely, professing that he had no idea why he hadn't heard his alarm. Poor thing. He was so sweet and Donna was just the worst.

She finally let him get to work, and as soon as she headed back to her office, you approached him carefully.

"Hi, Steven," you smiled at him, hoping he would have time to help you.

His eyes brightened when he saw you, but quickly narrowed in concern. You must really look like hell. "You alright, love?"

Bouncing on your toes, you shook your head quickly. "Not really. Can we talk?"

Steven knew he would get in trouble for leaving his post, but this was you. If you needed his help, Donna would have to wait.

Sure enough, she barreled back into the gift shop, ready for a lecture, but Steven pressed his hands together and demanded one more minute.

Guiding you by the elbow, he took you to a quiet corner. "Thought you had a long weekend. What brings you in?"

You asked if there might be any way you could talk in private, in one of the employee lounges. "I know you just got here. I can wait."

Chewing on his lip, he glanced between you and the swinging door where Donna lurked in her evil lair.

"Come on."

Once you were totally alone, he hesitantly reached for your face. “May I?” He whispered, gingerly brushing his fingertips over a scrape on your face. Peering down at your bruised wrist, he gently lifted your hand, shaking his head and exhaling sharply through his nose.

"You're hurt." His eyes locked with yours. "Who did this?"

Your face crumpled and you melted into his arms, the stress of the entire, sleepless night catching up to you. You knew this was the place to go, absolutely certain you would feel safe with Steven.

His heart burned protectively. The two of you sometimes ran into one another on your break, mostly out on the museum's front steps or at the vegan restaurant along the street. Occasionally you saw one another on the train home, or even in your building. He knew you had a boyfriend - the dimwitted bloke.

If that asshole hurt you...

"It's alright. You're safe here." He squeezed you comfortingly.

You finally settled, wiping your nose and eyes with Jake's jacket sleeve. Steven's eyes went wide as he studied the jacket carefully, but he shook his head and focused on you.

"Tell me what happened. What can I do?"

The softest brown eyed gaze you'd ever seen coaxed your confession out of you.

"I need your help," you whispered. "I need to get back into our building, but I don't have my key, or any of my stuff." You produced your phone. "And my phone is dead."

"Okay, of course," he nodded sincerely. "What about your boyfriend?"

"No, no, not him. I think he wants to kill me." You started to cry again.

"To k-kill you? Should we go to the police?"

"No, no police. I just need to get into my flat before my boyfriend gets back. If he's not back already."

Steven sighed. "I knew that dimwitted bloke was an asshole, but - kill you?"

"Steven, please can you help me or not?"

"Of course I will. Do you want to go now?"

"I don't want to get you in trouble with Donna. But my boss is her boss' boss...if that helps. I’ll ask him to pull rank.”

You and Steven took the train back to your building. Although you were half tempted to request Jake's Uber, Steven quickly dismissed that notion without sounding rude.

He let you in the building and you found the super, letting him know you "lost" your key. The super seemed willing to let you in, but warned you not to let it happen again.

As you exited the lift, you carefully looked for any sign of your boyfriend.

"What if he's home?" Steven whispered. "How will you know?

"I guess we just have to take that chance."

The super unlocked your door and you tiptoed inside with Steven behind you. The place seemed to be empty, thank god.

Darting to your bedroom, you recovered the packed luggage your jerk boyfriend tossed aside last night. You rushed to your safe to collect some important documents, working as quickly as you could manage. You made it out the door, not caring that you left it unlocked, dragging your luggage and almost making it around the corner when your heart stopped at the sound of your boyfriend shouting, "Hey!"

You and Steven exchanged looks before he grabbed your hand and your luggage. "Quickly! The stairs."

Trusting his lead, you ran, making your way to his flat, several floors up, before your boyfriend could follow, or figure out what floor you ended up on.

Steven ushered you into his flat, bolting the door as the two of you panted erratically from your exertion.

"Thank you," you gasped, reaching for your baggage. Finally getting a good look around, you couldn't believe how different Steven's flat looked from yours. His was on the top floor, in what appeared to be a loft, or converted old attic. The roof was steeply pitched with skylights offering more natural light than just the windows.

More than a dozen bookshelves burst with multicolored, worn paperbacks and gorgeous hardbacks. Ancient Egyptian artifacts, maps and souvenirs littered his cluttered desk and shelves. And in the middle of it all sat a bright aquarium with three plump goldfish.

You felt as if you stepped through a portal into another world. How could this place be in your building?

"Steven, your place is..."

"Bit of a mess, yeah? Sorry. Who's the biggest hoarder around? Me." He blushed, pointing to himself.

"No, it's wonderful. It's so different than my flat. It's like an old library."

He smiled, emboldened by your compliment. "You like to read?"

"Not this much, but yes. I do. I like the skylights." You locked eyes with him. "It's really soothing here." Reaching for his arm, you squeezed gently. "Thank you for helping me."

"Anytime." The crinkles around his warm eyes reminded you of Jake. It occured to you then, that Jake had also reminded you of Steven.

"Cuppa tea?" He asked, nodding toward the kitchen.

"Sure," you shrugged, following him. "I'll help."

The two of you worked quietly for a moment, when you asked him if he had a brother.

He swallowed hard. "I did...long time ago. He passed away."

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, Steven." God, what an idiot you were. "I just...you reminded me of someone and I just thought, maybe... I'm really sorry."

"'Salright. You didn't know."

The two of you prepped the tea, boiling the kettle before steeping the leaves.

"This is his jacket, actually," you finally continued. "I forgot to give it back to him after he gave me a cab ride. Or...Uber, actually. He uses a vintage cab as his Uber car."

Steven almost dropped the cup and saucer he was holding. "That so?"

"Yeah, he helped me last night. Like I said, I forgot to give him back his jacket. He was kind, and when he smiled...he reminded me of you."

"O-of me?" Steven cleared his throat.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "Anyway, I'm sorry about the brother thing, but I just wondered. He had like this 1980s mustache though."

Steven, who had just brought a sip of tea to his lips spat it right back into his teacup, coughing a few times. "You're not serious. A silly little tache?"

You giggled. "Yes. I told him it was dashing. He wore it well. But he reminded me of you somehow. American lad though. Thick accent."

"Mmm," Steven nodded, cleaning up the mess he'd made. "I'm happy Jake was able to help you."

Your eyes went wide. "I didn't tell you his name."

Steven's mouth dropped open. "Right. I actually know him. Flat cap? Mustache?" He pointed at you. "Leather jacket, cab?"

"Oh," you gasped, smiling. "Don't you think you guys could be related?"

Pressing his lips together, Steven answered diplomatically. "Never really thought about it exactly like that, but...yes, I suppose so."

He paused for a moment before growing more serious. "So what's going on with your boyfriend? Or, ex-boyfriend, I hope."

"Yes, definitely," you assured him, attempting to explain what you'd gone through lately and how you suspected your boyfriend of working for a crime boss of some sort.

"As much as I love this flat, I'm even scared for you to live in this shit hole building with him, Steven. I think he's really dangerous."

As if waiting for his cue, your boyfriend pounded on Steven's front door, demanding, in foul language, to be let in.

"Do not open that," you warned him, but it was too late. His hunched shoulders squared up, chiseled jaw clenching. A deep wrinkle appeared between dark eyebrows as the typical twinkle in his eye went cold.

"Steven, no, don't!" You watched in horror as he yanked open the door, grabbed your boyfriend by the collar and dragged him inside. Kicking the door shut with one foot, he slammed the taller man against the wall, nostrils flaring as his eyes flashed.

Your boyfriend shouted an insulting protest, but with one, precise jab to his throat, he was rendered speechless and left gasping for air.

"Listen to me, asshole," Steven spat, but his voice sounded entirely different. It came out as a growl. And...American.

It couldn't be. Jake? But it didn't sound like him either.

"You're never touching anyone again," he went on, menacingly. “You're never coming back here again. You're moving out. Right now." He pointed to you with one hand. "Lose their number."

Your boyfriend raged, struggling against Steven's powerful, one-handed grip, but he still couldn't speak.

"You think your boss will protect you?" He taunted. "Your boss is a pussy. He's already dead. And you're next." Roughly releasing him, he motioned him out the door condescendingly. "Better run."

With a hopeless glance your way, he was gone.

Steven's head dropped as he waited for your reaction.

You finally whispered his name, inching closer. "Are you American? I don't understand."

Finally meeting your eyes, he answered, "I'm Marc. I'll let Steven explain."

Shoulders hunched and hands drawn to his chest, Steven came back to you, fidgeting uncertainly. "Bit of a long story. Want that tea now?"

Then he explained how you'd spent the entire night with one man, occasionally fielding questions like, "wait, you're the white mummy man?" And, "wait...you're Jake?"

Steven laughed sheepishly. "In a manner of speaking."

"Oh good, I can give you your jacket back. Wait - where's your mustache?"

The thought of Jake wearing a fake mustache was so hilariously endearing to you.

Steven let you take a nap on his couch and use his washroom to freshen up. Later, he ordered takeaway for an early supper. The two of you talked, trying to come up with plan to help you move on with your life.

"I know this is weird to say at a time like this, but...I've always had a little bit of a crush on you."

"On me?" Steven almost choked on his food. "I never knew."

"It's stupid, really. Just ignore me."

"Not at all. But can I ask you a question? Why did you stay with that plonker?"

You shrugged helplessly, shaking your head. "I guess I never knew there was anything better."

Angstember Masterlist || Moon Knight Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[girlrotterr]

Ultraviolence.

farm!ellie x fem!reader TW!: references to alcohol and substance abuse, along with instances of emotional and verbal abuse. Summary: Years after returning from Seattle, you and Ellie chose to adopt a baby, hoping to rebuild your lives after the traumatic events. However, several months later, Ellie began struggling emotionally, haunted by her past, expressing her pain through cold and distant behavior. a/n: AHHH!! soo excited to finally share this!! lmk if you angels would like a pt 2!

read part 2! read part 3!

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

The silence of the house was abruptly broken by a cry that echoed through every corner. It was a sound you recognized instantly, a heart-wrenching feeling that never failed to make your chest tighten. Those cries belonged to your child. 

As you stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing away residues of dinner from the white porcelain plates – the very ones Ellie had lovingly chosen for you – memories flooded your mind. Each sponge stroke brought back moments shared with Ellie, her attention to detail in every aspect of your life together.

The kitchen, once a place of laughter and shared meals, now felt empty. The soft glow of the overhead light cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the solitude that enveloped you. How you longed for Ellie's presence, her warmth filling the space with love and comfort.

Yet, she wasn't physically absent.

She simply wasn't present.

"Go check on him," ellie muttered rudely, not even looking in your direction.

"Already on it," you replied, setting the plate down and drying your hands on a nearby cloth. 

Making your way upstairs, the cries of your child grew louder as you approached his door. Your heart ached as you recognized them all too well. Taking a deep breath, you knocked and opened the door.

Before you could utter a word, he began pouring out his troubles. He knew it was you even before the door opened, aware that you were the only one who came to check on him. His other mom…hadn't done so in a long time.

He was sobbing into his teddy bear, his red and puffy eyes avoiding your gaze.

"Why is my mommy like that?" he asked, tears staining his teddy bear. "Why is she not playing with me? Does she not love me anymore?"

Closing the door gently behind you, you settled on his bed. His voice choked with emotion, he questioned why his mother seemed distant.

"Oh honey, she loves you.” you tried soothing by rubbing his back, “she’s just… been busy, but soon enough, she'll play with you again, okay? I'll talk to her.." you assured, pulling him into your arms.

"Promise?" This time he raised his head to look at you with those wet eyes. You'd been playing the mother role for the past half a year now. How many times had you made that promise to him? 

"Pinky promise," you affirmed, feeling the weight of your words as you made yet another pledge to ease his worries.

"Thank you mama.."  He smiled weakly, clinging to you with a sense of reassurance. 

A voice in the background called your name – Ellie.

Abruptly, the heavy thuds of footsteps echoed up the stairs, her sharp voice vibrating through the silence of the hallway. 

"What are you doing?!" she snapped, her tone laced with irritation as she barged into the room, a cigarette dangling from her fingers.

"What the fuck are you staring at?" Ellie snarked,  her words cutting through the air. Her cold glare pierced through you. "Kid, go somewhere else."

As Ellie's coldness unfolded, you began to bite the inside of your cheek, a surge of anger towards her lack of empathy. The lack of interest she showed towards everyone's feelings aggravated you, you were growing exhausted. 

"Stop it.” you intervened, hoping to convey to Ellie the need for a gentler approach toward the child. As expected, Ellie brushed off your attempt, a complete disregard for how her words affected the child.

"I said fucking go!" Ellie yelled.

Your child, tears swelling, quickly left the room, the echoes of his sniffles fading behind him. Dammit, Ellie...

You shoot her a glare filled with frustration, immediately getting up to exit the room. However, Ellie quickly grabbed your arm, her grip tight and nails digging into your flesh, causing you to wince and forcefully move toward her.

"Where the fuck are you going?" she snarled.

"Argh- Ellie, I'm not.. dealing with you right now-" you remarked..

Ellie tugged your arm harshly, her stare growing more aggravated. The scent of cigarettes lingering, the scent so familiar that you had become numb to it. This was the only time Ellie would even attempt to touch you, always using it to assert her control. In all other instances, you existed as nothing, always unnoticed.

“You don’t get to decide that.” She released your arm, shutting the door firmly and positioning herself in front of it to ensure you couldn't leave. Taking another drag from her cigarette, she exhaled the smoke.

Maintaining your glare, you scoffed and went to open the window, refusing to let the smell of cigarettes fill your child's room. 

"What the fuckk are you doing?" Ellie asked, displaying no intention of stopping you, her annoyance being clear. She didn't bother pretending. 

“What does it fucking look like?” you snapped, not bothering to turn and face her. You hated it when she tried irritating you. 

Instead, your focus drifted toward the view outside the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky with hues of warm gold and soft pink, casting a gentle glow. The fields surrounding the farmhouse with lively flowers, their petals swaying in the evening breeze.

The farmhouse itself stood as a sturdy, its walls covered with trailing vines of ivy. In the distance, you could hear the faint sound of cows softly in the fields. 

Ellie remained silent, simply taking another prolonged drag of her cigarette. She didn't spare the time to respond to your snarky remarks.

“..he wanted to play with you today,” you mentioned, leaning your head against the window, fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt. “He thinks you don’t love him.”

It had become routine for Ellie to try and get any information about what your kid shared. His troubles and worries seemed to be a curiosity for her. You never questioned it, always holding onto the hope that, in some part of her, she still truly cared.

"So?" she replied nonchalantly, walking over to you and flicking her cigarette out the window. "What's one of his little feelings to me? He's too attached anyway. It'd be good for him if I ignored him for a while." 

Ellie's gaze drifted toward the window, her eyes captivated by the familiar view. The  golden glow over the farmstead, a sight she had always cherished. It was one of the main reasons she had chosen this farmhouse for her family to live in. 

You gazed at Ellie, taking in her features. Her heavy bags from the countless sleepless nights on the couch, her once-soft pink lips now only meeting the cold bottles of alcohol she consumed in the dead of night.

“He’s not the only one who feels that way..” You remarked, still staring at her, hoping that her emerald eyes would meet yours.

Ellie's heart sank, a flicker of emotion appearing on her face.

"Shut up," she muttered coldly. She didn't bother turning to look at you; your words had clearly affected her. 

"I don't want to hear you talk. I'll do whatever I want. If I don't feel like playing with him, then I fucking won't."

She stormed off, and the moment of silence shattered. Her heavy footsteps descended the stairs. 

Without a moment's hesitation, you rushed out of your son's room, your only focus being to find him. You swiftly walked down the hallway, your pace quickening. Leaving him alone, particularly when upset, was something you hated. As you walked down the hallway…

There he was. 

In the bathroom, seated on the black and white tiled floor, clutching his teddy bear, with his face buried into his knees and headphones covering his ears.

He didn't want to witness his mothers arguing. He understood that whenever Ellie interrupted your time together, it signaled something bad. 

You observed him from the doorway painfully knowing that he didn't deserve this, enduring the harsh environment that the house had become. It pained your heart to see that he had developed coping mechanisms for these moments.

He glanced up at you, his eyes red from crying.

You gave him a soft smile, walking over and lifting him into your arms, gently wiping away the tears from his face. “I’m sorry honey, mommy needed to tell me something-”

“I know,” he said softly, nuzzling his face into your neck. He already knew all your apologies.

You kissed the top of his head, tenderly stroking his hair and swaying side to side. Your mind raced, searching for ways to lift his spirits and make up for Ellie's behavior.

“Hey, why don’t we-”

"Mama... I’m tired," he interrupted, his gaze staring off as if he was drifting from this moment. It wasn’t just physical fatigue; he was tired of it all, exhausted from feeling this way.

You nodded gently. “Okay, let’s head to bed then…”

You walked over to the sink, sitting him on the nearby stool where you usually did to brush his little teeth. The tap gushed water as you applied toothpaste to his green toothbrush covered in tiny dinosaurs, a choice Ellie had insisted upon a while back. You remember her begs of "pleaseee!!" throughout the shopping trip.

With the toothbrush in hand, you gently brushed his teeth, being careful not to hurt his sensitive gums.

“Okay, now you can spit.”

Ptui!

“All clean, mama!” he exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together and flashing you his newly cleaned smile.

You leaned down, planting a kiss on the top of his head. “Good job, honey!”

He carefully climbed down from the stool, making his way towards your bedroom. Sleeping with you always made him feel safe, and he eagerly headed for the bed, emitting little grunts of tiredness along the way.

Finally settling onto the bed, he lay down next to his teddy bear, giving it a small pat.

“Mama will join you after she’s done cleaning, okay?” you assured him, tucking him into his space-themed blanket. The blanket, a dark blue adorned with various planets and stars, was one of his favorites.

It was a gift from from grandpa Joel, who had been thrilled to learn about your and Ellie's news of starting a family. He couldn't contain his excitement, bombarding Ellie with endless parenting tips and even purchasing books on child development in preparation.

Joel never got to meet him. 

“Okay...” he said softly, turning away as you walked towards the door. You stared at his back, an ache overwhelming your thoughts, and all you could think about was saying, "I’m sorry." Though you knew you weren’t responsible for Ellie's behavior, you felt like you owed it to him.

You and Ellie were eagerly excited on the journey to adopt a child together, ready to try again. Jackson had many kids in need of a loving home. When you adopted your kid, you promised him a life filled with love and joy, but that promise crumbled far too quickly. 

You stepped out of the room and closed the door behind you.

Heading downstairs, you found Ellie sitting on the couch, smoking a joint and watching Breaking Bad, an episode she had already seen twice.

Resuming your routine, you began cleaning up the kitchen. Drying dishes, sweeping the floor, and wiping the countertops. All tasks you were now accustomed to doing alone.

 Ellie gradually stopped helping, a gradual drift. The same snarky excuses: “I’m too fucking tired” or “I have some work to finish up.” Eventually, she left you alone in the silent kitchen, where everything felt still.

“Goodnight,” you said, looking towards Ellie as you headed towards the stairs.

Silence.

Ellie remained motionless on the couch, smoking her joint and staring blankly at the TV. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, trying to detach herself from the world.

You took a deep breath, attempting to control your emotions and suppress the ache that surfaced every time she responded with silence. Placing your foot on the first step, you began to ascend the stairs.

"C'mere,” Ellie said, actually looking at you for once.

Your heart raced at her sudden attention, her piercing gaze catching you off guard. You walked over to her, standing in front of her. Up close, you couldn't ignore the mess she appeared to be. Her eyes were puffy and red, a foolish smirk plastered across her face.

“c’meree..” she said, motioning you to come closer. 

Ellie brought the joint to her lips, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke right into your face, giggling at how it was causing you to cough. 

She started laughing, “you look stupid.”

Irritated, you smacked the joint out of her hand. Causing ellie to jolt at the sudden movement. 

“Be fucking stupid and pick it up,” you snarled, glaring at her, your eyes piercing through her.

Ellie simply looked at you, no words, no movement, her gaze fixated on you. You couldn’t decipher the emotion behind her gaze there were thoughts behind those eyes, but you couldn’t recognize them.

Scoffing, you turned away, no longer wanting to be near her. Heading upstairs, you headed straight for the bathroom. Closing the door behind you, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears welled up, but you refused to let them fall. I need to be strong..she can’t..can’t win…

You couldn't help but feel stupid. Stupid for thinking she would offer you even a shred of affection. Her undivided attention, a drop of care.

Turning on the faucet, you splashed water on your face, feeling its cool touch soothe your heated skin. It was as if the water washed away the tension, calming your mind. Each droplet felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders, easing the ache you carried.

Taking a deep sigh, you began your nightly routine, another task you were accustomed to doing alone.

Slowly opening the door to your bedroom, you found your child fast asleep, clutching his teddy bear tightly in his arms and cocooned in his blanket. His gentle breaths filled the room with a sense of tranquility, a small smile gracing his lips as he slept peacefully.

In that moment, he appeared like a peaceful, angelic child, as if he were innocent and free from life's worries.

Closing the door behind you, you approached the bed, gently laying beside him, fingers caressing his soft hair, humming a melody –a melody Ellie used to sing to you back then. Never missing a chance to soothe you with her singing whenever you couldn’t sleep. 

He appeared so innocent, carrying that light within him. The idea of him being exposed to Ellie's behavior filled you with guilt. He was the reason you tolerated Ellie, not demanding for more.

You had an urge to fight for his safety and his right to happiness. All he deserved was love and affection, and ellie failed to provide it.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you closed your eyes, letting sleep envelop you as you tried to quiet the endless thoughts swirling in your mind.

Thud.

Sometime later in the night, you heard Ellie stumbling her way up the stairs. Her movements were unsteady, the effects of alcohol. It seemed like she hadn't slept at all. The only evidence of her rest was the blanket and pillow on the couch.

You heard the sound of ellie turning the doorknob and entering the room, not bothering to turn on the lights. The room filled with the sound of Ellie rummaging through drawers and opening closets. You had no idea what she was looking for, but she appeared determined to find it.

You tried to catch a glimpse of Ellie in the darkened room. Your eyes adjusted, and you could make out the outline of her figure as she searched. She stood there in a tank top and boxers, her arms revealing prominent veins, and her hair ruffled messily around her face.

“El’s?..” 

Startled, she jumped and stopped her search, clearly taken aback by the sudden sound of your voice. She turned around with a scowl, not bothering to whisper back.

“What?” she snapped, clearly annoyed.

"What're you… doing?" you asked sleepily, being awoken by her rummaging. 

"Nothing," Ellie replied with a heavy sigh "Go back to sleep."

You looked into her eyes, your eyes glistening in the gentle moonlight. 

Ellie was startled for a moment at the sight of the eyes that met her. But snapped herself back into reality.

"Don't… give me that look," she muttered before turning around and going back to rummaging through the drawers.

You gently extended your hand towards Ellie, wanting her to sleep with you. Your fingers moved slowly, reaching out for hers. 

She paused, her shoulders rising and falling as she took a sharp inhale of air. She sighed and then looked at you. She didn't pull away from your touch, her demeanor appearing softer as if she was trying to resist you.

"No," 

You stayed silent at her response, silently hoping for her to change her answer.

"I said No. Go… back to sleep." She tried to say firmly but her tone was softer now.

You turned away from Ellie, silently acknowledging her rejection. Each time your attempts were turned down, the familiar ache grew duller, as if numbed. You wrapped your arm around your child, closing your eyes in an attempt to drift back into sleep.

Your child's peaceful breathing filled the room, a comforting reminder of his presence. Though still awake, you could hear Ellie's silent breaths nearby. She lingered by the bed, her presence still even in the darkness. It felt as if she was trying to find a way to be near you without you knowing. 

You resembled an angel in the soft moonlight, your skin radiant. Ellie couldn't help but admire you, considering you the most beautiful sight she had ever seen—as if you were kissed by the moon. 

The night was warm, the gentle wind gentle and comforting. In this moment, you hoped to never wake up. 

Your soft hair laid on the pillow like soft and silky thread. Your gentle breathing was soothing. Your body looked like a painting created by heaven itself. You were its beautiful muse and the moon was the painter showing its admiration.

Ellie couldn't help but gaze at you, her eyes lingering on your lips for a moment longer than usual. She then looked down at your child, peacefully nestled with you For an instant, a longing for love stirred within her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a very long time. It reminded her of the days when you both were deeply in love.

Your body was so peaceful, ellie found herself entranced, her eyes tracing every curve and line. Ellie felt an overwhelming desire to simply…admire you, to preserve your presence. 

Without a second thought, Ellie found herself slowly lying down beside you, her body acting with impulse. The comfort of the bed and the softness of the cotton sheets gave her a warmth that she had long forgotten.

She pressed her body as close as she could get it against yours. Her hands folded under her chin, as if she was too afraid to touch you. 

She found herself lost, aching for a connection she feared to ignite. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?

Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide

I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.

From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.

I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.

About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.

The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.

After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.

My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.

Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.

Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.

It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.

Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.

(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)

I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.

The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.

@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)

[sparklykryptonitebluebird]

Headcanons for MHA

TW: Death, panic attacks, implied eating disorder, abuse, some of these are just really sad

Present Mic has trained himself not to cry, because he tends to lose control over his quirk when he's upset and he doesn't want to hurt anyone.

Aizawa has panic attacks any time something bad happens to one of his students. He always thinks he's going to let them down in some way. Mic is the only one who can comfort him, and he just lets Aizawa cry into his shoulder.

[TW] Present Mic sometimes can't eat if he's stressed or particularly upset, so Aizawa will make him eat food, but Mic will just throw it up later.

Mic gets nauseous and throws up if he's anxious.

Both of the Iida children were abused both verbally, emotionally, and physically by their dad.

After Tensei can't be a hero, his parents stop visiting him in the hospital and just act like he never existed.

Tenya has an intense fear of failure, if he thinks he did something wrong, he'll shut down completely and then apologize for like an hour straight.

In the Iida family, if a child is born with a different quirk than Engine, the kid is abandoned or given up for adoption.

Tensei thinks he has no worth after the hero killer stain incident because he couldn't do anything to stop his little brother from getting hurt.

Mic hates being vulnerable, he always has to put on a smile for everyone.

Mic loves to be cuddled.

Aizawa thinks he is not good enough for anyone, let alone Hizashi freaking Yamada, the man of his dreams.

And then Mic sees Aizawa's fear and interprets it as disinterest in him

Endeavor was also a child from a quirk marriage, and was treated very similarly to Shoto as a child, so in his early marriage and parenting years, he didn't know how wrong it was. (Granted, he still knew it was wrong, so he's not all good)

Mic thinks he's the most annoying hero, and he's had several people push him away because he said something wrong.

Present Mic throws himself into work to distract from other things, like Oboro's death, or feelings of not being good enough.

Thanks for reading!

[fl3shm4id3n]

ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀᴘᴇ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ): ᴛʜᴇ ᴀ.ᴘ.ᴇ. ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴍᴇɴᴛ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐩𝐞𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 '𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝' 𝐡𝐚𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 '𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐬' 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐭��𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴇʏᴇꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ? ᴀᴘᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴋɪᴅ ᴄᴜᴅɪ - ᴍʀ. ʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ

TW: human and ape experimenting, illegal? experimenting, talks of torture, blood, brain swapping, bride of Frankenstein/Poor Things references, talks of death and taking risks, abuse, injuries, talks of war, blood, guns, murder, humans being assholes, Koba, Not edited.

Masterlist

The A.P.E. Experiment, was an experiment done by a private organization who deeply believed that both humans and apes are much closer then they're out to be. Since there was endless and endless of research that both species are technically the same. Except the humans are evolved and the apes aren't, yet they shared the same kind of intelligence.

That's why the A.P.E. Experiment took place. They actually wanted to prove and show how a human and ape can think the same things and be both as intelligent as they are. They've been several and several attempts, but there was always some kind of miscalculation or something going wrong. Not only that, but they test subjects would either die or not make it because of the risky brain transplant done by the scientist.

Despite those many fails, they kept on going. They weren't going to stop until they had finally manage to do what they were meant to do. Even if that involves the deaths of many humans and apes. Not only that, but they also worried about the money that had been founded into the experiment, if they didn't use it, then this whole experiment would have gone to waste. So they kept on going on again, again, and again, until finally after many attempts they had succeded.

You had no name, except for your serial number. Which was '013'. Technically, your name was 'H-Thirteen', but you were called 013. That number was tattooed onto your wrist ever since you could remember. You don't have much of a memory, since your brain had already been switched out not too long ago. The scar at the back of your shaved head was still somewhat healing. The procedure happened when you were 13 years old. The White Coats were nervous, they hoped that this time the transplant would work this time. After many attempts, none had succeeded. But this time. It had worked. Both you and the other Ape had actually survived the transplant. The White Coats were happy to learn this. Finally, after years of planning. It had finally worked.

Ever since you were given your new brain, you began to develop new behavior. Before, you'd talk verbally, now you sign or make ape noises as a form to communicate. When you'd speak vocally, you'd speak as if you were trying to form words. Like a child who just learned how to say words. You used to walk normally, now you walked slightly hunched and with your knuckles for support of some kind. Instead of standing, you'd be scrunched down, using your knuckles for support. Not only that, but you had grown canines. They were small, but they were visible. Besides those changes, your emotions had also change. When you'd be happy you'd jump around and be loud. But when you'd get mad, your snarl and hiss. As well as throw things that were near you. They were 'small' changes, at least to you yet the White Coats made it a huge deal.

The ape who's brain had been switched with yours, also began to experience changes. She now speaks verbally. Very human like, it was almost unbelievable. She walks and stands like a human. Even has human like emotions. Not only that, but the thing about this ape, was that she is your sister. You and her were both made out of the same DNA and grew in the same artificial womb. Also, when standing next to each other, you and her looked alike. A lot alike. Except, she was a ape and you were a human. That alone made it obvious that you both are twins, you and her were one of many human and ape twins. Except, the difference was that you and her survived the brain transplant. You and your twin were the lucky ones. Despite both your huge changes, you were both still different species.

The experiment continued. You and your twin known as A-Thirteen would often complete tasks on a daily basis. They were simply yet hard tasks to do, but you and Thirteen would complete them using your unique skills. The White Coats monitored everything. Took notes and videos of everything, for research and data. Yours and A-Thirteen's brain would often been checked up. Just to see it's development and how it's getting used to your new body. Since in the past, the other test subjects would either reject the brain or the brain would just die or even infect them, killing them. But your brain had got used to your spinal cord and body. It was shown how the brain had quickly got used to your body and the slight changes in your DNA. It had actually become your brain now. But not A-Thirteen, your twin's brain had become infected with some kind of bacteria. They tried to save her, but the infection had already spread out into her body, killing her. The White Coats were disappointed, but they were glad that you had survived. Which was good to them.

When you reached the age of 15. That's when the experimenting got aggressive. Wires would be poked into your scalp to test out your brain and would always make sure to check for any infections or anything abnormal, but it was all good. Not only that, but your body would be put in constant testing. You had no idea why, but you never asked because were made to believe that what they were doing was good. But, did that good have to be so painful?

You began to hate every bit of it. Having to be strapped into a bed, having wires put in your body, constant needles and fluids getting injected into your body. Those are of few tests done, there was more. But you preferred to just for get about them. At least you tried to forget about them. The scars on your body were a constant reminder of what the White Coats did to you. You attempted to rebel, refusing to do your daily tasks and would put up a fight when you'd be dragged into the lab for testing. Due to your rebellion, you'd get punished. Such as be locked in your room for hours without food or water. Same with being tased or get beaten by one of the White Coats. You hated it. All you wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.

At least, that's what you thought. In reality, you wished that you could be normal. Except, you weren't. Sure, you looked just like the White Coats, but your brain was the thing that wasn't normal. Often times you'd be told that you were special and that you'd do great things in the future. Except, you didn't want that. You wanted to do things that weren't going to the lab to be tested or doing tasks that you've already done. You wanted to interact with humans your age and just do stuff they'd do. Have a family, from what you learned, humans either had a big or small family from the books you read. They had a mother, father, a son or daughter. Even both or more. You wanted that, except. You didn't. You had no mother or father, you had a sister. You could never have what the humans had. You were kept in isolation. Never allowed to go outside, ever. The only company you had, was the company of the White Coats and A-Thirteen. But she was gone. You were now alone, with the White Coats.

ʏᴇᴀʀ 2026

You were now a 20 year old full grown woman. Things haven't changed at all. You were still the same person, in the same place with the same people. Nothing has changed, you were still being tested on and you still had tasks to complete. It was the same old routine, after five years. Everything was the same. Nothing has changed. You thought in the span of those years, something would change, but no. Everything was the same, it was getting tiring. Up to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. The routine was boring and nothing new. You hated it.

That evening, you doing your regular puzzle solving. This puzzles would get difficult and more complicated, but you always managed to complete them. Like always, you were monitored by five White Coats. Three taking notes, one recording with a camera and another just observing your every move. You began to hate being watched, you always had eyes on you. At least during the day, at night was the only time you had some sort of privacy. Even though you should be asleep, you stayed up late. To do your own things in your bedroom. Which was more of a cell. It felt like you were in a cage.

Once you were finished solving the puzzle, you were praised by the five scientists. Their praises used to make you happy, but now you could hear how forced and ingenuine they sounded. You hated when you'd hear them go 'good job!' or 'you did so good 013'. They talked to you as if you were still a child. You hated it. Your routine went on. You ate, you did your climbing and swinging exercises, and learned to speak new words.

Later that night, you went to bed. Except you didn't sleep just yet. You were hiding under your bed with a flash light, looking at the many pictures you drew. Of yourself, your sister A-Thirteen with a mother and father. They looked like a child's drawing, but you liked looking at the picture. Day dreaming that you'd actually have this. You often wondered what a mother and father would be liked. How would it be like to be cared for, along with your sister. You missed her, dearly. She was the only one who'd understand you and you'd understand her.

You'd also have pictures of yourself, but with hair. You really wished you could grow out your hair, but the White coats never allowed it since. Since having a buzzcut would make it easier for them to poke needles in your brain. You wanted long hair because you liked how it looked on the female White Coats and to hide the huge scar on the back on your head. And maybe, just know what it's like to have hair. But sadly, you couldn't. They'd never allow it, no matter what reason.

The next morning, you had been woken up earlier than most days. That was odd. As you got dressed into a newly cleaned hospital gown and a pair of white shoes. You were informed that you're going to a different facility. A different facility? That'd mean you'd go outside for the first time. You have seen the outside word, but behind a glass. You were never allowed to go outside until now. Where were you going? Who were you going with? Why were you leaving the facility after twenty years? You had so many questions that you wished they'd be answered. You had said your goodbyes to all the White Coats whom you've been with for all those years. Instead of feeling sad, you felt almost relieved. Glad that you were no longer under there care, which meant, no more experiments and no more of that routine you've grown tired of.

While you were being escorted out of the facility by the men covered in black, you had finally stepped foot outside. The fresh air and the wind felt new to you. Never in a million years have you ever smelled the air of outside and felt the cold wind hitting your skin. As much as you wanted to go and explore the wilderness you've read about, you couldn't. As you walked to vehicle, you couldn't help but look around you, getting a good eye of what you've been missing out. You wanted to feel and smell the dirt, even drink the water from the river, but you couldn't. You were required to move asap. You needed to be in another facility immediately.

The car drive was long and quiet, you were sitting down between two men dressed in black. It felt tense and stiff. It made you feel uncomfortable, but choose to remain as still as possible. You began to think about where you were going would be like. What kind of people you'd meet. Would they be more White Coats? How would those White Coats be like? Will they be other people that weren't White Coats? The questions keep pouring in. For most of the ride you just kept on thinking and thinking of questions that you know would never be asked. No one ever answered your questions.

After a while, the vehicle had stopped. In some part of the woods, it stopped so that you and the men in black could take a break. For fifteen minutes. You were allowed out. You were glad that they were nice enough to let you get some fresh air. As much as you wanted to explore the woods, you couldn't. You were only allowed to go a few feet away from the vehicle and had to come back after the fifteen minutes.

You walked around a bit, getting a view of the tall trees. They were much bigger then you thought. You couldn't help but feel how rough and hard the wood felt. It almost made you feel as if you wanted to climb it. Your attention then switched to the wet dirt, it must have rained the night before. It smelt nice, very comforting in a way that you never thought would bring you comfort. You reached down and took a small clump of it, feeling how soft and wet it was. It was nice, very nice to smell and touch. You wanted to see more.

So, you walked much further than you should've. Looking around more trees and even more dirt. But you also got the look of some plants and bugs you've read about in some books about them. Everything was new to you. You've always dreamed about going outside, just to see how it would look like. Now it was true, even if it only took you fifteen minutes, you wanted to enjoy every part of it. Since who knows how long it'll be if you ever go outside. You were loving the moment.

Then, you spotted a flower. It was a very pretty small and the color blue. They were called 'Forget-Me-Not', you've always wanted to see them in person, instead in book pages. You wanted to take some and maybe even keep wherever you were sent to. You got on your knees and plucked a huge amount of them. Once in your hand, you looked at them closely. Studying the color, shape and smell. You couldn't help but smile, when you looked at the small plants in your hands. You've fallen in love with them already. You were to focused on looking at the flowers that you didn't hear the men in black calling out to you. Finally, after snapping out of your thoughts, you heard them call you. As much as you didn't want to go, you had to.

You didn't notice that you were standing right near a hill, when you got up, your foot must have made a wrong move. That you ended up falling down the hill. You squealed and groaned as you rolled down the hill. After a few seconds, you had fallen into a river. The harsh water of the waterfall had dragged you down the riverbank, you got hit with rocks and branches in the water. You tried finding a way out, but the water just kept dragging you with it. Until you had finally spotted a branch and held onto it with all your strength. Despite being in pain, you managed to hold onto the branch. You were glad that you were okay. But the problem was, where did the river take you?

You managed to get out of the water and back on the ground. You were drenched. Your shoes and hospital gown were wet. You quickly felt cold. Your whole body began to shiver, so as a way to warm yourself up, you hugged your body. Your teeth were chattering against one another's and the wild got colder. You didn't want to stay there, you had to move. Maybe you could find the lab again, but you had no idea where to search. You've never been outside, so you wouldn't know where to start.

So, you just walked wherever you thought would help you, but no. You had no idea what to do or where to look. You were getting confused and unsure of what to do. Should you keep on walking or just stay where you were and hoped that they'd come find you. It was getting overwhelming. As you walked, you couldn't help but begin to breath a bit rapidly. You were about to go into a panic. You began to bite your finger nails, while your free hand was clenching onto the short sleeve on your hospital gown. It didn't help that you were cold because of your wet shoes and gown.

Suddenly, you tripped. Must have been cause you were walking fast and didn't see where you were going. Turning on your back, you looked down at your wet and dirt covered shoes. They were getting uncomfortable now. So you reached over and took them off your feet. Then threw them in a form of frustration. Not only where you lost, but you were cold and now barefoot. You let out a small frustrating snarl. That was something you'd do when you'd get mad. Afterwards, you got up from the ground, dusting off the dirt off your arms and legs. Your wet gown was now even more dirty. God, you hated what was happening now.

Then, you heard noises. Turning to see where they were coming from, you saw nothing. But you did notice some bushes moving as soon as you set your eyes on them. That made your stomach turn. Was something out there? Without a moment more, you began to walk again, but this time a bit faster. You could still hear bushes and leaves making noises, due to something hitting them. You grew into a panic, so you began to run, with the help of your knuckles. Hoping that you'd you'd go much faster. But again, you didn't see where you were going, and tripped again. This time you fell on your side, hitting your cheek onto the dirt, causing it to scrape. It hurt, a lot.

As you tried getting up, you heard bushes shaking and leaving hitting each other. You got up and looked around, trying to find the source of the noises. But you couldn't see them, except just hear them. You began to panic even more. What was it? An animal of some kind? If it was, what kind of animal? After a few moments, you spotted a pair of eyes. Blue eyes, to be exact. They were looking right back at you. That was odd, you couldn't tell if they were eyes of a human or an animal. They looked human, but they didn't feel human.

Slowly, they moved. Which made you back up a bit, now scared of what will come out. Carefully and slowly, they had finally stepped out of their hiding spot. It was, an ape. You've never seen another ape before. You were amazed by how he looked. As much as you wanted to get close, you kept your distance. You and the ape just stared at one another, almost as if you both wanted to figure out what you both were. After that small moment of silence, more apes began to pop out of their hiding spot. That made you panic a bit.

Looking around, you saw that they were a few more apes in all your directions. You had no place to attempt to run. Then, they began to approached you slowly. You grew scared, you had no idea what kind of intension they had or what they'd do. You back up, trying to find a way to run, but they was no place to run to. You began to fall into distress. You had backed up into a tree, you no had nowhere to go. As the apes approached you even more. You gone into panic mode. You began to scream and shout at them. Your screams of both fear and panic had caused them to stop in there tracks. They simply watched as you continued to scream in a panic.

What had caught their attention, was how your screams sounded very similar to theirs. They were very similar to an ape's scream. Eventually you stomped screaming, you crouched down and covered your head with both arms, breathing heavily and trying to catch your breath. As if you just wanted to disappear from that place. It grew quiet, all that was heard was your whimpers and heavy breathing. After some time, you heard someone approaching you, but you did not move from your position. You stayed where you were and didn't plan on moving at all. That was something you'd do when the White Coats would either beat you with a rod or tase you when you'd go ballistic.

You felt how a hand softly patted your shoulder. You still didn't move, until you felt the same soft pat on the shoulder. Slowly, you look ever the shoulder where you have been patted on. It was another ape, except. He looked much older than the one with blue eyes. You could see the bit of grey hairs around his chin and cheeks. His eyes were hazel like color, but they were more green. They too looked human, except they weren't. Just like the first ape you saw, you both locked eyes, staring at each other for a moment. You began to slowly calm down, for some reason you felt slightly better. Less panic and a bit more relaxed.

You then noticed how he reached his hand out to you. At first, you weren't so sure, whether you should take it or not. But after a bit of thinking, you took a hold of his hand. He then helped you get up from the floor. The ape was almost exactly your size. You weren't neither short or big, you were right in between. He seemed to also be right in between, but seemed slightly bigger than you. "You are safe." He said in a raspy but firm voice. You were still a bit shaken up by everything, but you were calm and collected. He continued to hold his hand, as a kind of comfort and to keep you calm. He then turned to the other apes, signing them that everything was alright and to stay put.

He looked back at you, seen that you were much calmer and relaxed. "Come." He said to you, lowly and comfortingly. You only nodded your head in response. After that was settled, he continued to hold your hand and processed to get you to follow him. So you did, you followed right behind him. Holding his rough hand. Then the rest of the other apes processed to follow behind you both. He must have been there leader of some kind. They listened to him when he singed them to stay put. But, your question was, where were you going? Where was he taking you? It didn't really matter to you at the moment. You just wanted to get out of that dreadful situation you were in just now. Hopefully where you were taken to, wasn't another lab of some kind.

ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

[wheelie-sick]

this is going to be a long post, it's kinda just me writing all my raw unfiltered thoughts on ABA therapy as someone who actually went through it

-> TW for ABA therapy, child abuse, suicide <-

I was functionally diagnosed with autism at the age of 3 but it wasn't until I was 13 that I was actually formally evaluated for it and given an official diagnosis. I was behind in social skills and developmental skills

[ID: "was also described as a sensory seeker. She does not currently have any friends and has struggled to make and maintain peer relationships throughout her childhood. Difficulties with social skills were initially noted when she was in preschool (years before the onset of clinically significant symptoms of anxiety and"]

[ID: "Social functions: [blank]'s mother also completed a questionnaire rating her social responsiveness. Her responses on the SRS-2 indicated that [blank] is demonstrating severe deficits in the areas of Social Communication (reciprocal social interaction and nonverbal and verbal communication), Social Motivation (motivation to engage in social-interpersonal behavior) and Social Awareness (perceiving social cues) and moderate deficits in the areas of Social Cognition (understanding social cues). Severe Repetitive and Restrictive Behaviors (stereotypical behaviors or highly restricted interests) were also reported. The total T-score on the SRS-2 indicates severe deficiencies in reciprocal behavior that are likely to result in interference in everyday social interaction"]

[ID: "%ile) are mildly impaired, while her social skills are moderately impaired (2nd %ile). By domain, demonstrates mildly to moderately impaired abilities in six adaptive skills areas, including self care (9th %ile), communication (5th %ile), home living (5th %ile), self-direction (2nd %ile), social (2nd %ile), and leisure (1st %ile)"]

and ultimately all this ended up with the number one recommendation after my autism evaluation being for ABA therapy.

[ID: "Recommendations: Based on the above results, the following recommendations are made for [blank] and her family.

1. ABA therapy: [blank] May benefit from an intensive treatment program to foster cognitive and communication skills, improve independence and adaptive functioning, and help manage interfering behaviors (i.e home-based, 1:1 instruction, task analysis, etc.) Most private and community programs are based on principals of operant conditioning and taught in home with 1:1 instruction"]

*I'm getting misgendered here. my pronouns are he/him

"operant conditioning"-- like a dog 🐕🐕. woof woof.

my mom didn't know any better so she put me in ABA therapy with the Center for Autism and Related Disorders. she regrets this. I regret this more.

my autism evaluation was cruel, it dissected all my flaws as if I was a bug under a microscope in a highschool laboratory. my evaluation was passed around to ABA therapists, a line of high schoolers peering through the microscope examining the most vulnerable parts of me.

and I choose the highschool analogy quite deliberately. most of the ABA therapists at my center were recent highschool graduates with no degree and little training. they knew nothing about autism and had no qualifications. you need more certificates to become a professional dog trainer than to become a professional human trainer.

"operant conditioning"

and I wish I could say it was just a poor choice of words but ABA therapy was dog training for children. my dad used to call me an "it" and somehow I felt less dehumanized by that than the entire experience I had in ABA therapy.

I was the oldest person at my center (I did not receive in home therapy) with the next oldest being approximately 3 years younger than me. at the time I felt babied. I was surrounded by 5 year olds and I was treated as if I was not just a 5 year old but an autistic 5 year old and anyone who has been a visibly autistic 5 year old knows what that feels like. I had escaped being an autistic child and now I was being treated like one again. The head of the program tried to console me by telling me adults received their services too.

[ID: "Following the principles of applied behavior analysis, CARD has developed a treatment approach for children and adolescents with"]

this was the first lie they told me. CARD does not work with adults.

I was not allowed the privileges of being a 13 year old. because I was an autistic 13 year old and therefore I was the equivalent of a 5 year old. I was in psychotherapy at the same time and I had grown very accustomed to some level of freedom in therapy. I was allowed to use the bathroom independently. in ABA therapy I was not allowed to use the bathroom independently. I tried once, me and my therapist were on an "outing" to the grocery store and I told my therapist I was going to the bathroom and walked off and I got a very stern talking to about how I needed to "stop eloping" and if I didn't stop it would "become a behavior"

eloping became a common theme used to control me and squeeze money out of my parents.

out of everything I hated in my life, including severe physical abuse at home (which they did not report), I hated ABA therapy the most. I would repeatedly make serious threats of suicide to try to get out of ABA. no one cared. everyone thought I was being dramatic but there were times I wrote out suicide notes and ABA was among the reasons I listed. ABA made me feel hopeless, depressed, revolting, disgusting, inferior, and less than human. between ABA, my home life, and my social life I had never felt so hated and it was boiling through my skin. I acted out, I was bullying people, I was behaving recklessly, I was starting fights, and all this only made the oppressive force of ABA crack down on me harder. I was a cat hissing in the corner begging to be left alone and ABA brought a net to try to tame me further. every time I scratched back it was listed as a reason I needed to be there.

I was "disruptive" and "rebellious" and "uncooperative" and "resistant to treatment" and no one could figure out why I was "regressing" despite me shouting the answer. I was screaming and no one was willing to hear me

I hated myself and my autism. my autism diagnosis made me want to die. I didn't feel freed by it or understood I felt ashamed and disgusted. I felt incompetent and like I had failed. I was ashamed to be at ABA, it was my biggest secret. I'd lie to my friends about why I couldn't hang out and I'd lie to people in public about who the woman I was with was and I'd lie about all of it to try to cover up my most shameful secret.

ABA therapy did nothing but foster this. In ABA therapy I was mocked for being autistic and what was happening only clicked when a young kid, maybe only 4 or 5, was flapping his hands and a therapist took out her phone and recorded him. we were circus animals. it was all an entertaining show to them while they poked and prodded at us with metaphorical hot irons to make us dance. the first time a therapist laughed at me for rocking back and forth I wanted to throw up. I almost did. it was systematic bullying of children I was forced to watch and experience.

my point is: the last place on earth I wanted to be was the ABA center.

so of course I tried to leave. my mom would bring me McDonald's and I'd beg, sobbing real tears, to leave early because only she could sign me out. every time I'd go to meet her I'd be marked as "eloping" and my hotel stay in hell would get extended.

my natural response to a stressful environment (leaving) was pathologized. I was eloping this way and that way and never once did I actually, truly elope. that word was a weapon used against me. they used my "elopement" to justify extending my stay to my parents. they ate it right up.

they argued I needed to stay there because I was making friends. this was true, I'm great at getting along with children it's part of why I want to go into pediatrics, but I had also made real friends with people my age at my highschool. ABA was getting in the way. I wanted to spend time with my friends outside of school but ABA took up all my time from the minute I left school to 6pm and all day on weekends. I was doing a full time job's worth of hours. I complained about how I was missing out on spending time with my real friends (as in, over the age of 7) and I was met with almost no wiggle room in my schedule. I was allowed to pre-plan time to spend with friends but every time my friend group wanted to do something spontaneously? I had to say no, and I had to lie about why. my friends would share stories about driving around town with 2 people in the group stuffed in the trunk, of hanging out in the woods together, of taking part in ordinary highschool activities as ordinary high schoolers and it made me cry because I was not an ordinary highschooler and I was not allowed to participate in ordinary highschool activities. I was one of those weird, unpleasant, socially awkward autistic people instead. eventually, they just stopped inviting me. I was forced into the out group by ABA.

I'll never get that back. I'll never get a chance to be a normal highschooler ever again.

when I did have time available to hang out with people I never had the energy to. at the time I was living with an undiagnosed physical disability and I was begging to see a doctor but no one would believe that it wasn't just anxiety. the people who believed me least of all were the people at the center.

I was constantly told I was trying to get out of therapy by "feigning" very real pain and fatigue. I tried to explain spoon theory, and that I had limited spoons, and in response they made a task for me to name things to "regenerate spoons" that's not how it works. I wasn't the only physically disabled person there. there was a wheelchair user who was constantly forced to stand for periods of time despite being in agony doing it. he wasn't allowed rewards until he did it.

rewards were used to train us like dog treats are used with dogs. sometimes the treats were fun! I'd get to cook, play Mario kart, and go on outings. other times the treats were "using the correct name and pronouns for me." I'd constantly be threatened with deadnaming and misgendering if I was being "noncompliant."

misgendering because of my autism was a theme in my life. my neuropsych evaluation report misgendered me. my parents misgendered me. the staff at ABA misgendered me. at one point the head of the program suggested that my "gender confusion" was because of my autism. my abusive father latched onto this and still claims that the reason I'm "confused" about my gender is because the evil transgenders tricked me into thinking I'm one of them because I'm autistic and therefore easily impressionable.

the two therapists I had were nice because I refused to work with the others. they weren't on a power trip and both eventually left because they realized the harm the organization was doing. other therapists were not so kind. other therapists were on a power trip, because in their mind lording over autistic 5 year olds (and autistic 14 year olds) makes them powerful and strong. occasionally I'd get stuck with one of the other therapists when my usual therapists were out. they would talk to me in a baby voice. they would make fun of me for rocking back and forth, for not making eye contact, for talking about Skyrim "too much" and generally just for being autistic.

I never really knew what I was supposed to be doing, just that I was doing it wrong. the therapists there rarely actually told me what my tasks were they'd just mark yes or no on them, judging me for something I wasn't aware of. I was never actually supposed to graduate, I was never supposed to get out, if they wanted me to succeed they would have taught and explained what was happening but I was intentionally left in the dark.

I continued threatening suicide to get out. no one took me seriously. I was seriously considering it. there's no happy conclusion where someone finally realized it was all wrong, or I figured out how to be allistic and graduated, or I felt more comfortable there. I only got out when covid struck and shut the center down. it's gone now, replaced by a family advice center. I hope their advice for autistic children is to never put them in ABA.

there is no grander message here just suffering. I'm sorry if you were expecting some sort of great point at the end of this. there's not one. it happened, I wish it didn't, and I hope no one else experiences what I did ever again.

okay to reblog

[sunrise-imagines]

Marshall Lee and Gary Prince x reader dating hcs? NSFW and sfw plssss (can either be together or separate IDM)

Assjdhdhjd finallyyyy, thank you so much for requesting this! I’ll keep it sfw for now but I’ll post some nsfw headcanons for them later! Hope you enjoy!

(Also there are a few references to Adventure Time characters in the beginning, so if you recognize those you get a cookie!)

TW: Mentions of abuse, skip the section marked with “***” if you want to avoid these, mentions of homophobia, rich people

Poly! Marshall Lee x Reader x Gary Prince Relationship Headcanons

***

• Since we already know a bit about Marshall, I wanted to touch a bit on Gary’s backstory just for funsies. This is where the TW comes in so skip this part if you aren’t comfortable with that

• His parents died when he was very young, so he was given custody to his Aunt Griselda and her family.

• He also has a little sister, Nadine, who has autism and is nonverbal.

• Sadly, he and his sister were verbally and sometimes physically abused by them, so at the age of 16 he got emancipated and started to live on his own while taking care of Nadine.

• He’s currently enrolled in Community College classes and hopes to improve his financial situation to help support them both.

***

With that out of the way, onto the headcanons!

• Gay gay homosexual homosexual gay-

• Y’all are that totally-in-love queer couple throuple that make homophobes that see you in public clutch their pearls (the lemoncarbs).

• You all make sure to spend time together individually as well as all together so no one feels left out.

• Gary’s dates consist of taking you to a cozy café or sneaking into the bakery after hours to make you all kinds of sweets.

• Marshall is much more unorthodox in his choices, taking you to a bar on the other side of town or exploring a vacant building before chilling on the rooftop.

• Marshall will also steal his mom’s credit cards and take you two out to fancy restaurants, ignoring several missed calls and dozens of texts from her while the three of you try everything on the menu.

• If you want to learn how to play guitar, Marshall would be happy to teach you, or have a jam session if you know how to sing or play another instrument. As for Gary, there isn’t a musical bone in the poor man’s body. Karaoke night is always a struggle to get through with him, but you both love him anyway.

• You and Marshall have a never ending supply of sweets and pastries to try, as he has you two sample all of his pastrymanchen(?) before he starts selling them.

• Now that you’re all dating, Marshall will usually crash at either your or Gary’s places instead of Fionna’s. This means Ellis P is also around sometimes, but if he gets too annoying (which he often does) just let Marshall know and he’ll gently but firmly kick his ass out.

• You all sleep in a big pile with Marshall and Gary on either side of you, basically this but with you sandwiched in the middle

• Sometimes Marshall takes you out for drives in his van, parking by an overlook and just watching the sunset with y’all.

• In the winter you guys will go to the ice skating rink! Gary is a really good skater, so he’s the one guiding you both while you and Marshall hold onto the railing and try not to fall

• Marshall wants you all to get matching tattoos, and Gary is kind of hesitant about it, but if you want it too then he’ll agree to getting a small one.

• Although it would seem like Gary does most of the cooking, Marshall isn’t bad at it either and he’ll help out in the kitchen quite often (his Dad taught him how to make a few dishes when he was a kid)

• Both of them are very supportive of your goals in life and will help you to achieve your dreams in whatever way they can.

[baby-tini]

Thank you so much @mostlyheinous for letting me make a little post based off your one Dabi audio. I hope I made you proud. 😭

TW: abusive relationship, degradation, physical abuse, verbal abuse, toxic Dabi.

Dabi is an asshole, you knew that, hell- everyone knew that. He never tried to hide it, never feigned nice, never even tried to give a compliment. He absolutely didn't know shit about privacy and personal space, either that or he just didn't care. You're willing to bet it's the former. So it's no big surprise when Dabi bursts into your room unannounced, with a scowl. He looks severely unhappy, looking you up and down and scoffing.

"What's your problem?" you ask with a sneer, adjusting your dress. He stands quiet for a minute before rolling his eyes and giving your dress a once-over. "You look like a slut," he shrugs, shutting your door and throwing your clothes mindlessly on the floor, and plopping down on your bed- if you can even call it that, putting his nasty, muddy shoes on your comforter.

Whipping around, you throw a tube of lipgloss at him, but unfortunately he catches it, throwing it to the side. "Who the fuck are you talking too? Get the hell out Dabi, go bother someone else." You scowl at him, turning back towards the mirror. He stares at you for a moment, getting up he grabs you by the hair, wrapping it around his fist and yanking you up. There's an immediate struggle on your side, hitting at his hand and pushing his chest.

"Who the fuck am I talking too? I'm talking to you bitch," there's a slap to your face, one of his rings catches your bottom, busting it open. "The fuck are you even wearing, huh? You found a new job at the street corner? How much you make a night sucking cock, hm? You let anyone fuck you, don't you? I fucking knew you felt looser, dirty bitch." There's blood leaking down your chin, getting on your chest and staining your dress. You try to push him away but he just slaps your hands away, grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Dabi stop!! Let go, you're hurting me," your crying now, mascara leaking down your cheeks. Dabi rubs at your wet eyes, ruining your eyeliner in the process, he snarls at you. "Shut the fuck up, I'm not hurting you, dumb bitch." He spits on his hand, rubbing it all over your face. "There all better, now you look a little less ugly," he grins.

You're sobbing now, repeatedly attempting to push his hand away, slapping at his chest. He ignores your attempt of a broken struggle, pulling you towards the bed and throwing you on it back first. Climbing on top of you, he rips your dress open. "Stop, stop, this was expensive."

He stops at that, looking up at you, he laughs in your face. Singeing the rest of your dress, he leans back with narrowed eyes. "That shit was expensive? That fucking rag costed money? It wasn't even covering shit, you had your fucking tits out and everything- if you can even call these tits," he grabs handfuls of your chest. Pulling at your nipples through your bra and spitting on your chest. "These barely pass for a fucking B cup." His saliva drips down the valley of your breasts, making them sticky.

"Dabi... please stop, please.." your voice comes out in a croak, chest still heaving with sobs. He scoffs at you, climbing off you and running a hand through his hair. It's quiet for a few minutes, cept for your sniffles now and again. "I told you I didn't want you going out, you didn't fucking listen to me. This is all your fault you know... if you're gonna blame someone blame yourself." You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing before you nod at him. He hums at you, "are you gonna listen next time- actually there won't be a next time. You're not allowed to go out anymore if I'm not with you. I don't care if Toga asks, you come to me first." You nod at him, pushing yourself up on your hands, "I'll ask Dabi, I promise." He nods at you, "good." Throwing a make-up wipe at you, he leaves.

[youremyheaven]

Ashlesha & Toxic Relationships

Tw: abuse, incest, rape, death, domestic violence

I feel like Ashlesha's mommy issues have been covered by others before but I really wanted to explore how Ashlesha nakshatra natives often find themselves in toxic relationships, be it in their own homes or in romantic relationships. I think many of the patterns many people repeat in adult relationships has its roots in their childhood relationships with their family and I see this very evident with many Ashlesha natives. They're often abused at home and later suffer abuse at the hands of partners.

Halle Berry Ashlesha Sun

Halle's father was a violent man who abused her mother repeatedly. He abandoned them when she was 4 and she's been estranged from him since.

She moved with her mother and sister to an all-white neighbourhood where she was exposed to racial discrimination while attending school. Halle admits that these struggles motivated her to succeed. Later in the ’90s, when she moved to New York to pursue her acting career, she was forced to stay in a homeless shelter for a while because she couldn’t afford accommodations.

In 2011, Halle said: "It was only when I was in an abusive relationship and blood squirted on the ceiling of my apartment and I lost 80% of my hearing in my ear that I realised, I have to break the cycle."

Halle is divorced from Gabriel Aubry (in photo with her above) who, she accused of being a racist (he used racial slurs towards her and their daughter), refused to acknowledge their daughter as biracial and court documents revealed that Berry accused him of having been in an incestuous relationship with a family member, abusing their daughter and even revealed the couple only had sex three times a year, with Aubry struggling with the effects of his incestuous relationship.

Charlize Theron- Ashlesha Sun, Moon & Mercury

One night, when her verbally abusive alcoholic father came home with his brother after drinking heavily, he threatened her mother with a gun. He began shooting and Theron's mother grabbed her gun and shot back, killing Theron's father and wounding his brother. Police later determined it was self-defence. They later moved to America so Charlize could pursue an acting career.

Lily Collins, Ashlesha Moon

Lily Collins says she was once in a toxic relationship where she faced "verbal and emotional abuse" that made her feel "very small." Looking back, Lily says her then-boyfriend silenced her feelings and even fuelled emotions of "panic" and "anxiety" -- and it's something that still affects her even though she’s now in a healthy relationship.

"He would call me 'Little Lily'…and he'd use awful words about me in terms of what I was wearing and would call me a whore and all these things," she said on the "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast. "There were awful words and then there were belittling words. I became quite silent and comfortable in silence and feeling like I had to make myself small to feel super safe."

Tina Turner, Ashlesha Rising

Tina’s violent marriage with Ike Turner is well known, largely thanks to the film based on her life, What’s Love Got To Do With It. In the film the singer suffered severe beatings, was raped and had cigarettes stubbed out on her body. Her husband Ike is portrayed as a violent, controlling sociopath, and when Tina’s autobiography was published Ike actually admitted that the book was largely accurate. The pair were married for 16 years before Tina had the courage to leave. Ike is now dead.

I found something she said in an interview to closely correlate to Ashlesha:

"Part of my spiritual practice is to “change poison into medicine,” to take negative situations or roadblocks and transform or remove them through positivity. The force of my positivity pushed all the discriminatory “isms” standing in my way right out the window."

Whitney Houston- Ashlesha Sun & Venus

Their turbulent relationship is well documented, but even though the rumors were that Bobby used to hit Whitney, she actually claimed it was the other way round. In an interview with the Associated Press over 10 years ago, the singing star said: “Contrary to belief, I do the hitting, he doesn’t. He has never put his hands on me. We are crazy for one another. I mean crazy in love, love, love, love, love. When we’re fighting, it’s like that’s love for us. We’re fighting for our love.” Brown, however, was later arrested in 2003 for misdemeanour battery, several years after Whitney said this. The pair eventually divorced after 15 years of marriage in 2007.

Unfortunately, Whitney passed away in 2012 and I firmly believe Bobby did it. Her daughter, Bobbi Brown also passed away in the exact same way in 2015 and there's just no way those 2 deaths were a coincidence. Anytime I hear news of anybody dying in their bathtub after overdosing on a cocktail of drugs, I just know they were murdered. Its very easy to write off deaths as suicide or to make it look like one. Its all the more convincing if the person has a history of drug abuse.

Sridevi, Ashlesha Sun & Rising

Sridevi was forced into acting by her mother (who aspired to be an actress and had failed in her pursuit) when she was 2-3yrs old. Sridevi never received formal education and appeared in 200 films by the time she was 25 years old (she did 300 films total). Her mother and stepfather had another daughter whom they favoured. Sridevi was the cash cow of the household. It was once reported that Sridevi would come home from a long day of filming and spend many hours massaging her mother's feet at night instead of sleeping. Her mother once locked up Sridevi in a dark room and starved her as a 5-year-old because she was too scared to do a scene that involved fire. She became a heroine at the age of 11 years and was paired opposite men who had played her grandad onscreen when she was a child star🤮🤮🤮she was sexually assaulted by many of these men as a child and teenager. Sridevi's mother managed all her finances and did not permit her to go out or meet others and she did not even know how to do virtually anything by herself as her mother kept her under lock and key.

Her husband Boney Kapoor is a movie producer who was married to another woman and had 2 kids when he first met Sridevi. He creepily wooed her for 10 years but Sridevi paid him no mind. In 1995, Sridevi's mother passed away and Boney took full advantage of her vulnerability because even though she was 32, she was basically a child due to the way her mother forced her to live. Sridevi had no one to rely on (her stepfather had died many years prior and her sister sued her for properties and since she was so isolated, she had no friends despite being such a huge star) and Boney took her in. She lived with Boney and his wife and kids but before you knew it, Sridevi was impregnated by him and he soon divorced his wife and married her. In 2018, Sridevi was found dead in a bathtub in Dubai under suspicious circumstances. The case was wrapped up pretty quickly and no one really knows what happened. She allegedly "drowned" but like I said, I dont think all these celebs drowning in their bathtubs is a coincidence.

Zsa Zsa Gabor- Ashlesha Moon

She was married 9 times and many of those marriages were hella toxic. She was married to Conrad Hilton (Paris Hilton's great-grandfather)

She said of the marriage:

"Conrad's decision to change my name from Zsa Zsa to Georgia symbolized everything my marriage to him would eventually become. My Hungarian roots were to be ripped out and my background ignored. ... I soon discovered that my marriage to Conrad meant the end of my freedom. My own needs were completely ignored: I belonged to Conrad."

Gabor's only child, daughter Constance Francesca Hilton, was born in 1947. According to Gabor's 1991 autobiography, One Lifetime Is Not Enough, her pregnancy resulted from rape by then-husband Conrad Hilton.

Marilyn Monroe- Ashlesha Rising

Marilyn had a very difficult life. She grew up in foster homes, her mother was schizophrenic and her father was an alcoholic. Her marriages were unhappy and she was treated like shit by the industry. I don't want to elaborate too much because I feel like everyone already knows about her life story but its truly tragic how things were for her :((

Lucille Ball- Ashlesha Sun

She was married to her onscreen husband Desi Arnaz and they had a horrible toxic marriage where he cheated on her repeatedly and emotionally abused her. He was also an alcoholic.

Bella Hadid, Mars in Ashlesha atmakaraka

"I constantly went back to men -- and also, women -- that had abused me, and that's where the people-pleasing came in," Hadid said on the Victoria's Secret podcast, "VS Voices."  "I started to not have boundaries, not only sexually, physically, emotionally, but then it went into my workspace….I began to be a people-pleaser with my job and it was everyone else's opinion of me that mattered except for my own, because I essentially was putting my worth into the hands of everyone else and that was the detriment of it."

Everybody already knows that Yolanda is toxic as hell, made Bella get a nose job at 14yrs of age and in Bella's own words she was made to feel like the "uglier sister".

Viola Davis, Ashlesha Sun

She and her sisters were sexually abused by their brother. "Sexual abuse back in the day didn't have a name. The abusers were called 'dirty old men' and the abused were called 'fast' or 'heifers,'" she wrote in her memoir.

Davis wrote about the volatile relationship between her empathetic mother and her violent, alcoholic father. With brutal candidness, she channels the unrelenting terror of living in a household of domestic abuse: “There are not enough pages to mention the fights, the constantly being awakened in the middle of the night or coming home after school to my dad’s rages and praying he wouldn’t lose so much control that he would kill my mom.”

Lil Kim, Ashlesha Moon

When she sat down for a candid interview with Newsweek back in 2000, the rapper revealed that she developed a complex about her appearance thanks to a string of unsavory suitors. "All my life men have told me I wasn't pretty enough — even the men I was dating," she revealed. "I'd be like, 'Well, why are you with me, then? I have low self-esteem and I always have," she admitted. "Guys always cheated on me with women who were European-looking. You know, the long-hair type. Really beautiful women. That left me thinking, 'How can I compete with that?' Being a regular black girl wasn't good enough."

It wasn't just the men she dated in her early days that messed with Lil Kim's head — according to the rapper, her own father added to her issues. Her parents divorced when she was 8 and, despite the fact that she wanted to remain with her mother, her dad won custody. When she spoke to Newsweek ahead of the release of her second studio album, The Notorious K.I.M, she revealed that her father would regularly make her feel as though she wasn't good enough. "It was like I could do nothing right," she recalled. "Everything about me was wrong — my hair, my clothes, just me."

Ella Fitzgerald, Ashlesha Rising

At a young 15 years old, Fitzgerald was left motherless and fatherless. To make matters worse, she began being abused by her stepfather. The beatings were physical, but they scared her emotionally as well. She was a beaten and battered child. Her grades fell to be nearly unrecoverable, and she began skipping school regularly. It was an era of racial segregation and Ella is also believed to have been physically abused by her teachers along with some other black students.

Ella and Marilyn were good friends and are said to have bonded over their similarly traumatic lives.

Katie Holmes, Ashlesha Moon & Rising

She escaped an abusive marriage with the sociopathic Tom Cruise and his cult??? need I say more?? I am so happy she is alive and well and that she has managed to protect her daughter as well. Scientologists are insane people who absolutely destroy the lives of anybody who tries to leave their system so its a miracle that Katie is alive and doing well.

Glenn Close, Ashlesha Rising

I don't know what it is about Ashleshas and being trapped/escaping a cult but I've noticed several Ashlesha natives all have this experience

Oscar-nominated actress Glenn Close, for example, was part of a cult called the Moral Re-Armament, from the young age of 7 all the way up to 22. “If you talk to anybody who was in a group that basically dictates how you’re supposed to live and what you’re supposed to say and how you’re supposed to feel, from the time you’re 7 till the time you’re 22, it has a profound impact on you,” she once told The Hollywood Reporter.

Patricia Arquette- Ashlesha Moon

Oscar winner Patricia Arquette wasn’t just raised in Virginia’s Skymont Subud cult, but her parents were the founders of it. The so-called “spiritual movement” was known for not allowing access to bathrooms, electricity, or running water in the name of “inner guidance.” 

While still living with her family, she and her family left the commune to return to a more conventional life. Per ABC, however, the Arquette family wasn’t any better at that time either. “There was a lot of drama in the house,” Arquette said in an interview with Oprah Winfrey. “There were a lot of chairs flying around.”

Brie Larson- Ketu in Ashlesha

Brie starred in two movies, The Glass Castle & The Room that both deal with abusive relationships (she is the one stuck in them)

Our Ketu placement is where we draw our creativity from, so its interesting that Brie has played so many characters who have to deal with toxicity.

According to Hindu mythology, Ashlesha nakshatra is associated with the story of the Naga King Vasuki. It is said that Vasuki and his wife were cursed by a sage to become snakes. In order to lift the curse, they sought the help of Lord Vishnu, who advised them to perform a penance in the ashram of a sage named Jaratkaru. After performing the penance, the sage granted their wish and they were able to regain their human form. Since then, Ashlesha nakshatra has been associated with transformation and the power of penance.

In the list of celebrities I have mentioned, many of them survived their abuse and went on to live good lives but many others met with tragic ends. Being "cursed" is part of Ashlesha's mythology, which is why they receive an unfair share of bad experiences and abuse but to perform penance is very very important and something not many are going to be able to do. When so many terrible things happen to you, you're bound to think "why me? I'm a good person, I don't deserve this" and that's absolutely true, no one deserves abuse but the ones who can outlive these negative circumstances are the ones who can in Tina Turner's words "turn poison into medicine". Penance literally means inflicting punishment upon oneself but what it actually means in this context is to turn all your negative experiences that feel like you're being punished into something you can rise up above against. Poison is also part of Ashlesha's lore and while this does make Ashlesha natives rather malicious and manipulative towards others, they need to be able to use this poison as medicine to heal themselves. Otherwise, they end up succumbing to it.

[cindersnows]

i don't think he got the abuse from anyone in specific. the temper, from his parents, i suppose --- they tended to get angry a lot and he absorbed that.

// tw abuse

navy was raised back in a time where abuse was normalized. parents would hit and yell at their kids all the time to punish them.

as a kid, navy was small and pretty weak, and tired really easily. he wasn't good at fighting at all, like purple. navy was originally yelled at a lot for not being good at fighting, so he worked extra hard to meet those expectations. and he succeeded!

so by the time he was like, 10ish he and his parents were good and they got along just fine. even in school, he was a bigshot and stuff, the classic "popular jock". he wasn't mean or a bully though, he was nice, thought he only had like 3-4 people he considered genuine close friends (this included orchid and her sister mango).

i believe the reason he was like that to purple is because he kind of saw himself in purple? and he figured, "oh my parents did the tough love thing and i got better, i'll just do that for purple."

but purple didn't really improve at fighting. this was partially due to a disability, (also because xe just didn't want to be a fighter). navy saw this and got annoyed because in his eyes, purple simply just wasn't trying hard enough. so he pushed and pushed and eventually after fighting with orchid decided that none of this was worth it, and left.

Tell me I'm curious

[starsenha]

[13] ABOUT THE BOY - i hate you

synopsis: You were the queen of Decelis University. Everybody worshipped the ground you walked on. You were used to having what you wanted when you wanted it. Until the day when park sunghoon arrived, and things changed. wc: 2k tw: angst, verbally abusive parents, crying, hoon being an absolute sweetheart, heavy use of petnames, fluff

a/n: lil double update today because the previous chap was very short hihi, enjoy!

You stood in front of your full-length mirror, adjusting the straps of your black dress. The fabric clung to your body perfectly, but then again, it was custom-made, so of course, it fitted you great. You had been looking forward to this party for weeks, and the thought of going with Sunghoon actually brought a smile to your lips.

Your jewelry sparkled as you reached for your favorite diamond earrings. Everything was perfect. You were perfect. But as your turned to grab your clutch, the door to your room swung open, and your father stepped inside without knocking. The air in the room dropped several degrees as he entered.

"Where do you think you're going?" your father demanded, his voice sharp and cold. His eyes narrowed as he took in your outfit, a look of disapproval settling.

Your heart sank, but you kept your face neutral. You have become really good at that now, keeping your face natural and not showing any emotions. "I'm going to a party," you replied calmly, turning back around to the mirror to apply your final touch of lipstick. "It's a big event. I've been invited by—"

"I don't care who invited you," your father interrupted you, his tone harsh. 'What I care about, however, are your grades, which are slipping. A lot."

You froze, your hand hovering over your vanity. You had expected this conversation at some point, but not tonight. Not when you were so close to leaving and actually having fun.

You took a deep breath and turned to face him. "My grades are fine, Father," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I have everything under control."

"Is that what you called under control?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I heard that you're not at the top of your classes anymore. Do you think that's acceptable? Is that what we expect from you?"

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you were doing your best, but it wouldn't matter. He had already made up his mind anyway, and nothing you said would change that.

"You're going to too many parties," he continues, his voice growing colder. "You're wasting your time and ours with all this nonsense. Do you want to bring shame to us? To our name?"

You felt a sharp sting in your chest, but you didn't flinch. You had learned a long time ago not to show weakness in front of him. Instead, you just fixed your gaze on the floor. "Why can't you be more like your brother?" he said, his voice full of disdain. "Mingyu has never once embarrassed this family. He's excelling everywhere. He understands what it means to be responsible, to carry the weight of the family's reputation. And that's precisely why he has such a high position in the family's business. A position you'll never earn if you continue to live like a spoiled little socialite."

The comparison to Mingyu stunk, but it was nothing new. Your brother had always been the golden child, the perfect heir, and you had always known you could never live up to the impossibly high standard. You could feel the urge to yell back at him, the scream, but you knew better. "You're lucky you're mother is too soft to deal with properly, but I expect you to straighten out, yn,"

You swallowed hard, "Yes father, I unsterstand," you said, your voice as steady as possible. You felt the tears coming to your eyes, but you bit your lip to stop them from spilling.

"Now, go to that party tonight. It's the only thing you're good at anyway," he said. With that, he turned his heel and walked out of your room, your mother just behind her, as you knew she would spend the entire night trying to calm him down so he wouldn't break another expensive vase in the house. You turned to your mirror, making sure your makeup didn't budge and you reapplied your lipstick, before grabbing your clutch and stepping outside the house.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon pulled up to your house right on time, his sleek black car idling quietly as he waited for you to come out. He had texted you that he was outside, but as the minutes tickled by, he had a strange feelings. You were always punctual, almost obsessively so. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes flicking to the front door every few seconds

Finally, the door opened. You looked stunning, as always—the definition of perfection. But something was off. Even from a distance, he could tell. You walked slowly, almost hesitantly, and when you got closer, he noticed your slightly red and puffy eyes.

His concern spiked, and he quickly got out of the car and walked around to meet you. "Hey princess, are you okay?" he said softly.

You forced a smile, but it didn't reach your eyes like usual. You nodded quickly, trying to brush past him to get in the car. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

But he wasn't convinced. He gently grabbed your arm. "Yn, talk to me. What's going on?"

Your froze, your back still turning to him. You wanted to keep the act, but you could still feel the words of your father on you. You tried to take a deep breath, to hold it together. "I said I'm fine, Sunghoon."

He stepped closer when he noticed your shoulders started shaking and your voice trembling. His grip on your arm tightened slightly. "You don't have to be. Not with me."

That did it. Before you could stop yourself, tears started streaming down your face. You turned to him, your perfect composure crumbling as you buried your face in your hands. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Hoon," you sobbed.

He didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as your cried into his chest. It was rare, you never cried in front of anyone, but right now, you couldn't hold it anymore.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to apologize. Just let it out," he whispered, gently stroking your hair. You clung to him, your body shaking with sobs as you finally let everything out. Sunghoon held you tightly, his heart aching for you as he realized just how much you had been holding in. "What happened?"

"It's my father. I'm never enough, I'm always the disappointment," you said through your tears. "he thinks I'm wasting my life, that I'm bringing shame to the family. He called me a spoiled socialite, and the worst is, I know he's right."

Sunghoon's jaw clenched at your words, anger flaring up inside him. He couldn't believe someone could say something so cruel to their own daughter, especially someone so strong as you.

"He's wrong. He just doesn't know what he's talking about," he said gently.

You shook your head, "But he's always like this. Every time my grades slip just a little, it's the same thing. I'm always compared to Mingyu, and I can never measure up," you looked at him, your eyes filled with pain but also frustration. You were just so tired. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this," you voice broke as you spoke, and you dropped your gaze to look at his shoes. "I usually go to Hee when things gets this bad because he understands, but—"

"You can come to me now," he cut you, his voice firm. "I'm here for you, yn."

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. You were embarrassed by your outburst, but his words were comforting in a weird way. He tilted your chin up to look at him. "Listen to me, okay? You’re not a disappointment. You’re incredible. Anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you in their life."

Your searched his eyes, looking for any sign of pity, but all you saw was genuine care and concern. "Thank you, hoon. I just... I feel so lost sometimes."

He cupped your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "I know, sweetheart. But you're not alone, okay?"

You nodded, leaning into his touch. For the first time in a long rime, you felt like you could finally breathe again. "Do you still wanna go to this party?" he said gently, studying your face.

You hesitated. You knew you were expected to be there, to maintain your reputation, but after everything that had happened, the mere thought of putting on a brave face for a crowd seemed exhausting.

"I kinda have to..." you said softly.

Sunghoon shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I didn't ask if you had to, princess. I asked if you wanted to."

You finally shook your head, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement. "Not really, no," your voice was merely above a whisper.

His smile widened, and he gently kissed your forehead. "Then let's not go."

"But what will people think?" you asked, looking at him in surprise.

"Who cares?" he shrugged "The most important thing is to make you feel better. We'll do something else instead."

"Like what?"

"How about," you could see his eyes sparkle, as a smirk appeared on his lips, "we hit up a diner instead. We'll get some greasy burgers, fries, milkshakes. Just you and me. How does that sound?"

You blinked in surprise. You hadn't eaten junk food in god knows how long. It wasn't something that fit your little image, with the lifestyle you were supposed to maintain. But weirdly enough, that sounded amazing right now. "That actually sounds really good."

"Then let's go, I know just the place," he opened the car door for you and you stepped inside.

As you drove off, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

_____________

Sunghoon and you had chosen a booth near the window, away from the main crowd, and the mood had quickly lightened. He ordered a ridiculous amount of food; you couldn't help but laugh at the amount.

"Do you really think we can eat all of this?"

"You're the one who needs to keep up appearances, not me," he said teasingly, picking up a fry from the plate. "and you need some junk food. It's good for the soul."

You chuckled, dipping the fry in ketchup before taking a bite. "I guess I can make an exception this once, but don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."

"Your secret’s safe with me, princess," he said, throwing you a wink, "but I’m telling you, you might get hooked after this."

You both laughed, and you felt some of the tension from earlier start to melt. It was easy with Sunghoon. He kept the conversation light and funny, telling you stories about some ridiculous things that happened to him in his old school. It felt like the weight of the world had lifted off your shoulders.

But as the laughter faded, your eyes cuaght a group of students from your school sitting a few booths away. They were whispering and glancing over at you, clearly recognizing who you were. The familiar feeling of anxiety started to creep back in, but before you could dwell on it, Sunghoon noticed. Without missing a beat, he reached across the table and gently tilted your chin so you were looking at him instead.

"Hey, don't worry about them," his voice was soft as he bored into your eyes. "Just focus on me."

You blinked, surprised by the gesture, but the warmth in Sunghoon’s eyes made the anxiety dissipate. You softly nodded.

As the night went on, the conversation shifted from light banter to something deeper. He opened up about his family, something he hadn't discussed before. Or at least, not with you.

"So, you know how everyone at school assumes I’m just some guy who got in on merit?" he said casually, leaning back into the cushion. You nodded, intrigued. You had wondered about his background but hadn't pried. There was no way a guy from a modest background would dress that well and with fancy items.

"Well," he smirked, "it's not exactly true. My family’s pretty well off—nothing like yours, of course—but we’re comfortable. My dad runs a tech company, and my mom’s a fashion designer."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really? You never mentioned that before. Why keep it a secret?"

He shrugged. "I just like to keep it low profile. I didn’t want to be known as ‘the rich kid.’ Plus, it’s kinda fun seeing people underestimate me."

You grinned. "Now it makes sense why you always look so put together. You’ve got fashion in your blood."

Sunghoon laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess so. But honestly, my family’s pretty low-key compared to yours. We’re not in the public eye as much, and I kind of like it that way. My parents always encouraged me to do my own thing, and I appreciate that."

You found yourself genuinely intrigued. "It sounds like your parents really care about you," you said, your tone thoughtful.

"They do," Sunghoon agreed, his expression softening. "They’ve always been supportive, even when I made some pretty dumb decisions. I’m lucky to have them."

You nodded, feeling a pang of something you didn’t want to name. "You are lucky," you said quietly. "But I’m glad you shared that with me. It’s nice to know more about you."

"I guess it takes me a little time to open up," he said, chuckling. Your eyes caught his and you stared at each other for a bit, before he cleared his throat, breaking your trance. "Now, how about we finish these fries before they get cold?"

previous / m.list / next

TAGLIST: @arimiu @eleanorheartschishiya @i03jae @beomsitez @hoonatic @rep-hoon @invuzzn @naoyiie @sunhyeswife @sophi-ee @heeseungismymanz @istglevi-gotmesimping

[vallification]

rushes: chapter one

tw: verbal abuse

wc: 4.3k

Droplets of brownie batter are splattered atop the marble counter, half-dried, beside the neatly packaged box filled with an assortment of fresh, fragrant, and warm homemade desserts and pastries. A sink full of dishes is left in the wake of the impressive spread, and your kitchen is reminiscent of the aftermath of a cyclone. The mess glares at you, incredulous at the fact that you’d dirty such a luxurious space, but you want to deliver the fruits of your labor before they get cold. You have yet to meet your neighbor across the hall, and if you learned anything from your grandmother, a good first impression is rarely set by empty hands. 

Or messy hair. A halo of frizz stares back at you in the reflection of your microwave. Quickly, you dip into the bathroom to tug your hair tie loose, smoothing down your flyaways and combing through your hair with your fingers. 

“That’s… acceptable,” You mumble, dabbing your face with the remnants of setting powder left on your brush until you’re no longer shining and slathering on some lip gloss. Paint and what you assume is flour stains your worn t-shirt and shorts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and find the rest of you to be acceptable, too. Balance. 

Before you go, you check your phone for a text from your boyfriend, but no dice. It’s been radio silence since you moved in. You placate yourself with excuses for him, because he might be tired, or busy, or… something like that. Saying that things have been a breeze lately would be a blatant lie, though. To put it lightly, Toji was hot and cold. He was too busy to help you move in, but not too busy to stop by and fuck you before you left; he was fine with you leaving, but his mood soured every time you rambled excitedly about your new place; and like now, he would ignore you for days, but pick a fight if you dared to take more than 10 minutes to answer his texts. 

The unholy lack of notifications stares back at you like a prophecy. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in, filling every corner of your lungs before exhaling sharply. You pocket your phone and grab the box.

So far, all of your neighbors have either been pretentious financier DINKs or older couples drowning in their bottomless retirement funds. Before this unreal opportunity of an internship, you would have been lucky to even know about this part of town, much less be in the vicinity of this building. Lady Luck has kissed your sweet little head several times this year, so being lonely in the big city is a small price to pay for your newfound fully funded lifestyle. You shove your complaints in the “First World Problems” file cabinet of your mind, but part of you hopes that the neighbors across the hall are at least a little friendly. 

Bracing yourself for another set of snobs, you take a deep breath and knock on the door. Lady Luck spits in your face and cackles. 

Your jaw drops when the door swings open to reveal snow white, cerulean blue, golden tan, six feet and three inches of him. Long, muscular arms frame his smug face as large, strong hands brace his absurdly tall figure at the top of the door frame. A shiny white gold chain hangs around his neck, sitting handsomely against his tight black shirt. Your slack jaw slams shut when you see his infuriating smirk, complemented by his infuriating dimples. 

Satoru Gojo is like a cold sore. He just keeps fucking coming back. 

And even though he’s skimmed through your Instagram annually, he hasn’t seen you in person in almost four years. Your sparkly, girlish energy still decorates your face, but your features are a little more mature now… Not just your features either. Those blue eyes drag up and down your body, simultaneously checking you out, re-familiarizing himself with you, and trying his damndest to fluster you. 

It only works a little bit. 

Disgust paints your features, your lips curling as you squint at the human embodiment of an unchecked ego. But a hand splaying out over Gojo’s ribs prompts him to make room in the doorway for another figure. Next to Gojo stands a man you don’t know, almost as tall, just as broad, all olive skin and dark hair and eyes that seem to swallow you whole. There’s not enough room for two men as tall and broad as Gojo and whoever that is to be comfortable in the doorway, yet they make it work, shoulder to broad, thick, muscular shoulder. You fix your face into the sweet smile you wore previously. 

“What’s that?” Gojo asks, nodding to the box tucked in your arms. Your sweet smile momentarily reverts back into a disgusted snarl as your eyes flick back to him. 

“Not for you,” You quip. Stepping one pace to the side, you plant yourself directly in front of the stranger and fix your face once more. Gojo feigns offense with a gasp, and the other man’s eyebrows fly high on his forehead, lips pressed into a tight line as he poorly conceals his amusement. You shove the box forward. 

“You can have some, though,” You muse, and your new neighbor takes the box with a grin. Sweetly holding your hands behind your back, you introduce yourself and explain that you live directly across the hall, you’re new to the city, and you’re a concept design student at the University of Tokyo. From his peripheral vision, Gojo watches his roommate look you up and down as you talk, and it isn’t lost on him when Geto’s eyes hang onto the most notable parts of you. Eyes, lips, chest, hips, chest, lips, eyes. Gojo stands quietly–for what you assume is the very first time in his life–his eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you. If you cared to pay him any mind, you’d catch the glint of… jealousy? Annoyance? Yeah, annoyance. If you cared to pay him any mind, you’d catch the glint of annoyance swimming in his ocean blue eyes. 

“Suguru Geto. I’m working on my masters there, actually. Computer science,” Suguru, as you now know, explains, holding the box in one arm to gently shake your hand. The beige hoodie he’s wearing smells amazing. Ambery, peppery, heavy… almost sweet but not quite. His voice is the same, rich and smooth and warm. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Suguru Geto’s eyes are violet. And intense. Your phone buzzes one, two, three times in your pocket. Toji. 

“... Anyway.” Gojo breaks his silence and pockets his hands as he leans against the door frame. Your sweet smile remains even though your eyes tell a different story, annoyance clipping your friendly demeanor. In his usual style, Gojo holds your gaze of unabashed dismay with one of unshakable confidence. 

“Glad to see you’re still painting. Is that creature you’ve got on your Instagram funding this?” Gojo snickers, and is rewarded with another eye roll. 

“Is your daddy funding that?” You retort, tiptoeing and batting your eyelashes as you gesture past the two men crowding the doorway. Geto rubs over his face to wipe away the laughter that’s begging to tumble out of his mouth. “Or did that end when he bought you your degree?” 

“Woah, is that… hostility? Are there some lingering feelings you’d like some closure for, sweetheart?” 

“No time, babe. You’ve probably got an appointment for your biweekly penicillin shot.” 

“You wanna call and ask your little boyfriend if he wants to come with me?” 

By the time Gojo finishes that sentence, your phone is ringing in your pocket, and Gojo grins. Annoyance has metamorphosed into daggers in your eyes, glaring at the ever so smug bastard standing so coolly before you with your fists balled at your sides. Turning on your heel, you march across the wide hallway to your door, and before it slams shut behind you Geto calls out one more pleasantry. 

“Knock for anything!” 

—

Gojo forgets about the little white box full of desserts for an impressive eight hours. It definitely helped that the damn thing was hidden in Geto’s room, even then, the box hadn’t crossed his mind since your door slammed shut behind you. Instead, he was thinking about the swish of your hips, the way your stained shirt nearly fell past your tiny denim shorts, the way you totally checked him out before your feigned disgust set in. Sweets don’t have a perfect ass. 

But the sweets were still important. Geto returns from his shower with the box in hand, immediately pulling Gojo from his quickly wandering thoughts. 

“She said it’s not for you,” Geto reminds, smug and faux-snide as he chastises. Delicately, he tugs a loose end of the silky pink ribbon until the bow it's knotted in is freed. He tosses the ribbon to land awry on top of white hair, and in a huff Gojo snatches the silky pink length of ribbon off of his head. As if to taunt him, Geto oh-so-cautiously pries open the tabs that once kept the box closed, careful to keep the sweet contents obscured from Gojo’s eyes. “Ooh…” Gasp!

“Suguru, I wanna see— what’s in— the box!” 

A flurry of hands lurch forward, push away, reach around, until Geto is using his legs to keep Gojo out of the box’s reach. “Oh, wow…” 

“What is it? I wanna see!” 

“Really, wow. That’s so cute. Is that—?” 

“Suguru!”

“Aw, it’s pink! I think it’s strawberry…” 

Another flurry of grappling arms, legs, and hands. Geto’s leaning off the side of the couch now, cackling around a fingerful of frosting. Pink sugar sprinkles litter the corner of his grinning mouth, and Gojo gasps in offense. “You must have really pissed her off, Satoru. I think this frosting is homemade. You’d love it.”

“That’s not fair!” Wriggling to climb the length of Geto’s body, Gojo’s hands almost reach the box before Geto rolls out from under him. The box is unscathed when he lands on the floor with a thud, and he sticks a leg out to keep the pouting Gojo away. They're both huffing from their struggle as Geto takes another smug swipe of frosting. So far defeated, Gojo plops himself back on the couch with crossed arms and watches Geto taunt him with your box of prohibited treats. 

After a heavily surveilled mouthful of a homemade strawberry cupcake, topped with buttercream frosting and pink sugar sprinkles, Geto hums in amusement. “So what’d you do? Is she someone from college?” 

“Nothing. No.” If Gojo pouts any more than he already is, his face might cramp. You used to make those cupcakes all the time, and over half were always devoured in the span of an afternoon by him alone. Not only that, but Gojo knows there’s more than just your strawberry cupcakes in that box. He can smell chocolate. 

Gently setting the cupcake down in the box, Geto moves onto the next little dessert. He breaks a piece off of one of the softest chocolate chip cookies he’s ever had the privilege of eating and pops it into his mouth. Does he have the same sweet tooth as Gojo? Absolutely not, but it’s so fun to watch him throw a tantrum. Plus, it’s all really that good. “You had to have done something. These are amazing. I don’t even like chocolate like that.” 

Gojo lets out a whine, dramatically wilting over the side of the couch like an unwatered flower, back curved along the arm rest as his head and arms hang. “She’s theatricizing. I want a cupcake.” 

“So you did do something? Is she your ex-girlfriend, Satoru?” 

He whines again, louder this time, hyperbolically drawn out and frustrated and ragged. Gojo slides along the armrest until he’s on the floor, flat on his back with his legs propped up over the side of the couch. A man of his stature, sprawled out on luxury, dark wooden floors like a toddler is quite the sight. However, Geto wants the details. He doesn’t laugh. 

“If you stop pouting and tell me I’ll give you the box.” 

“She was a year below me, we dated in my last year of high school and I broke up with her.” Silence. Geto’s waiting for the rest of the story, shoving another piece of soft cookie in his mouth. Gojo throws his hands up in exasperation, but it does nothing to placate his roommate. He pulls his legs down from their position on the couch, propping himself up on one elbow and letting his head rest limply on his shoulder with a huff. 

“I broke up with her a week before her birthday so I could be single for college,” Gojo murmurs, hurried and hushed, leaning over to reach for his reward. His fingertips are just a hair shy. “Gimme the box.” 

As he promised, Geto slides him the box. It doesn’t come without a disapproving tsk, though, which Gojo ignores in favor of finishing off the bitten strawberry cupcake. Casually gathering the excess frosting off the side of his mouth with his fingertip and casually sticking it out, Geto casually takes Gojo’s frosted middle finger into his mouth to casually suck it clean. Which could mean nothing. Neither of them linger on the action very long; sharing is like a second nature to them, and that’s all that was. 

“I mean,” Gojo starts through a mouthful of cupcake. “I don’t think she’s actually upset. It was such a long time ago. If anything,” Another pause for another bite. “It’s a schtick. I let her down pretty gently, if you ask me.” 

All he gets in response to that is a raised eyebrow. If Geto knows anything about the sugar fiend sitting adjacent to him, it’s that he has an extremely skewed view of what it means to let someone down gently. A muffled stream of sounds tears his brain away from the secondhand embarrassment of thinking about a less mature version of Gojo “letting someone down easy.”

Gojo’s not privy to the sass packaged in that single quirked eyebrow, nor the noise, too busy on a spiel about your famous strawberry cupcakes through a mouthful of the second one. “I knew these would be in here. She used to make them, like, every week. Did you know that she uses real strawberries to—“

“Shhh.” In the fleeting, stunned moment of silence his hushing offers, Geto can hear the voices slightly clearer than before. It’s an argument, he can tell that much, but he can’t tell which apartment it’s coming from. 

“… Um, anyway. As I was saying, can you tell that she uses real strawberries to—“

“Satoru, shut up,” Geto emphasizes, waving a dismissive hand in Gojo’s direction and heaving himself up off of the floor. Watching incredulously as Geto slowly saunters towards the front door, Gojo’s slack jaw opens and shuts around a silent exclamation of offense. But just when Gojo finds the words to constitute a thorough chastisement, he freezes, stiff as a board on the floor. He hears it. 

From the living room, it sounds like weird, warbled, distant mumbling, incoherent sounds traveling through thick doors and thicker walls. It’s impossible to decipher even with ears as keen as his own, and for a moment, he allows himself to relax. Whatever it is isn’t his business, and he’s sure Geto is only curious about the hushed sounds because the two of them are the only ones who make such cacophonous noise in such a quiet place. However, the relief he feels is fleeting. He can now distinguish two things about the muffled racket, the first of which being that it’s coming from across the hall—from your apartment— and the second of which being that it’s a man’s raised, agitated voice. 

In an instant, Gojo leaps off of the floor, long legs carrying him in determined strides to the front door until his feet are planted firmly at Geto’s side. With an ear pressed against the door, his violet eyes, usually so composed that they’re unreadable, are held wide open, swimming with uncertainty, discomfort, and concern. For Gojo, who’s already dancing on the edge of entering fight or flight, it’s an alarming sight to see. His shoulders are tense, his eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are worried by sharp teeth, obviously disturbed by something Gojo didn’t quite catch from his place in the living room. From Geto’s perspective, things are not much better. Beside him, Gojo’s reminiscent of a guard dog on high alert, all adrenaline and potential energy and paradoxically controlled instability. He’s got a white knuckle grip on the door handle, his blue eyes flicking back and forth and up and down in a way Geto would describe as erratic if he wasn’t so familiar with him.

Neither of them need to say anything. It’s written in olive, and golden tan, and black, and white, and violet, and cerulean. Gojo stares through the peephole in the door, catching the moment your apartment door swings open. 

It’s him. The guy you have littered all over your social media accounts. Not quite as tall as himself or Suguru, but muscular, broad, denotatively handsome in a sharp, steely way. If he didn’t know any better, Gojo might even say that he looks like the dangerous, violent type. That thought doesn’t go away when Gojo watches him lean down, purposefully imposing over your much smaller frame, until he’s eye to eye with you, saying something Gojo can’t make out with either his eyes or his ears but he knows it’s not something good. He hears a mumble, and assumes that’s what prompts the man to scoff and stand up straight again. 

“You’re always fuckin’ complaining about something. Fuck’s sake,” He says with a shake of his head, his body language anything but loving or caring or whatever boyfriends are supposed to be. Geto looks down at the floor once your boyfriend’s words to you register in his head, while Gojo looks straight ahead like a laser sight on a sniper rifle, scarily still. 

“I’m going home. I’m not staying if you’re going to act like a fucking crazy bitch just because I’m too busy to text you. Some of us have real fuckin’ jobs.” Without a second look at you, the man starts down the hall and disappears into the elevator. It’s cruel. It’s hard to watch. 

Your apartment door is left wide open, with you standing pitifully still and shrunken in the doorway, the antithesis of the version of you that gave Gojo’s wit a run for its money just eight hours earlier. Never before has he seen you look so… scared. So stripped. So small. Something about the way that man has left you nothing more than a shivering shell of yourself makes his stomach twist. Gojo watches your bottom lip quiver as you stare at the floor, and the tears that roll freely down your flushed face as you weakly close the door. 

Solemn, sobering silence fills the air of their apartment in the aftermath of what they just witnessed. Gojo doubts that, next to him, Geto isn’t also simmering with a nauseating mixture of nasty emotions, but even if neither of them can muster up anything to say in the moment, they both know it’s different. It’s personal for Gojo, it’s visual, it’s visceral, it’s more than something that happened to the sweet new girl across the hall. As if he were on autopilot, Gojo grips the door handle again, waiting for Geto to move out of the way. 

“What are you doing, Satoru? I don’t think now is the best time…” Geto whispers, casting an apprehensive gaze to the hand on the doorknob. 

“It’s fine,” Gojo whispers back, and although Geto’s unsure of how true that statement is, he steps away from the door. There’s something unfamiliar stirring in his blue eyes. Something bigger than what he’s thinking of. 

Shutting the door behind himself, Gojo bridges the gap between his apartment and yours in two slow steps. It feels weird to stand in the same spot as him; it feels weird to stand in the place of someone who spoke to you like that, swearing at you, shouting at you. To Gojo, it almost feels like standing in the wreckage after a disaster, wondering why the earth kept spinning after  something so awful. 

He can’t get the image of you standing in the doorway out of his head. Gojo sees every version of you he knows flash in and out of that doorway. The version of you that was so happy to wear his hoodie, and the version of you that was so nervous to show him your art for the first time. The version of you that was dressed head to toe in cheesy Christmas pajamas. The version of you that was soaked from the rain at his house. The tiny version of you that was caught in pictures lining every wall of your parent’s house. The version of you that stood in front of his door in shock that he was your neighbor. The versions of you that were all so lively, and witty, and sharp, and strong, all crushed into nothingness by a piece of shit that didn’t care to look back at you as he walked away. A sorry fucking bastard that purposefully towered over you just to scare you, and that yelled at you like you were a kid, and that swore at you, and that called you a fucking bitch.

It isn’t until now that the questions start to roll in. Is he always like that? Is this a common occurrence? Is it worse than what he just witnessed? Does anybody know? Has anybody else witnessed this? Has anybody helped? Has anybody said anything? How long has it been like this? You looked scared, you looked embarrassed, you looked hurt, but you didn’t look surprised. The thought makes his skin burn. Part of him wonders if Geto was right about this not being the best time to bother you, but by the time he finishes that thought he’s already knocking on your door. 

You’re just on the other side of the door when he knocks. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, it’s replaced by a type of exhaustion that runs through your veins and seeps into your bones, heavy and achy and sore. You’re tired. You’re embarrassed and ashamed. You want to go to bed. 

“It’s me. Open up,” Gojo says through the door, uncharacteristically reserved and gentle. The softness of his voice catches you off guard, juxtaposed against the venomous words spat at you ten minutes before like the merciful coolness of the night after a brutally hot day. Your throat feels tight all over again, choked up from something as simple as someone speaking to you so gently. Tears well up in your burning eyes as you stifle a sob, and you know the sharp inhale can be heard through the hardwood. It’s a nauseatingly sad sound, and Gojo frowns. “Come on.” 

It feels impossible to turn the knob, impossible to pull the door open, and impossible to stand once you’re no longer guarded by two and a half inches of mahogany. Right now, standing in front of Gojo feels worse than being naked, like you’re more exposed now than you ever have been when undressed. You want to run away from the vulnerability. You want to slam the door in his face and hide. You don’t want his pity. But you know whatever he’s here to give you is not pity. 

“Hey,” He starts, his fidgeting hand rubbing at the back of his neck where his skin meets his undercut. You recognize the action, born from the same fidgeting movement as when you really knew him, when his hair was longer, when he would twirl the hair at the base of his head around his slender finger over and over and over again. It’s not a nervous tic, though. It’s just something to do with his hands. Focusing on that is easier than focusing on the concern in his eyes. 

“Hey,” You reply in a whisper, your voice hoarse, warbled from teary eyes and a trachea that feels like it’s wrapped in barbed wire. Shame smothers your weak body like a weighted blanket, but you hang onto what’s left of your pride and force yourself to keep your chin high. 

For him, it’s easier to focus on the lock of hair left out of your haphazardly tied ponytail than the way your hand shakes against the doorframe. “I’m not here to fuck with you or anything. Suguru wanted to exchange numbers for…”

If you need them. For when you need them. For when you’re feeling unsafe. For when that sorry fucking bastard scares you again. 

For when you want to make sure it’s the last time that piece of shit scares you. 

Gojo’s steely blue eyes flick down the hallway, tracing the path to the elevator. You watch his jaw clench. 

“… Emergencies.” 

Swallowing, thick and dry like your throat is coated in a layer of cotton, you nod. If he caught you at any other time, you’d roll your eyes. You’d make a snide remark and squint up at him. You’d tell him you can handle yourself. But there’s a reason he’s caught you now. Gojo wouldn’t have done this at any other time and you want to throw yourself in a heap on the floor and cry.

Wordlessly, the two of you exchange numbers. It’s nothing more than two new contacts, yet Gojo passes your phone back and it feels two tons heavier in your exhausted, shaking hand. You mutter a “thank you” and step back into your apartment, but Gojo catches the door with his hand and makes sure to meet your weary eyes with his own. For a fleeting moment, it feels like you’re seventeen again. His five words of parting linger in the air around you for the rest of the night. 

“Just… don’t be a stranger.”

[stayevildarling]

Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Bruised Petals

A/N: I got this request a while ago but I can‘t find it in my inbox. basically reader living at the coven and going through an abusive relationship. unaware that the three woman know, as they begin trying everything to get reader out of it and make her see real love🤍

tw/tags: mention of abusive relationship, emotional, verbal and physical abuse, cursing, overprotective delia, scary mina, angst/hurt/comfort

word count: 7.8k (I apologize, I got slightly carried away while writing this)

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples, @stepintomyworld

The rain had been pouring for hours outside, hammering against the large windows of the academy. You sit curled up on one of the armchairs in the living room, book in your lap that you had been trying to read for what feels like hours but not having managed a single page yet. Wilhemina was the first to join you, having finished her evening rituals and joining you as she sits beside you with a warm smile, reaching for her knitting supplies. Moments later the medium and supreme join as they greet you with warm smiles and some gentle words. The four of you had been close for years, ever since you had joined the academy, as a student first before reaching your full potential and neither of them wanting to let you go, offering you a home and teaching classes there which you accepted of course.

The three woman felt like your family, the place you call home, despite the coven feeling like your sanctuary. Billie had been the one to undeniably make you laugh until your tummy hurt on bad days, making your days brighter with her charm and humor. Wilhemina was distant at the beginning, struggling to let people in but you quickly managed to find your way into her heart, break her walls with your true gentleness and your kind heart. And the redhead made you feel safe, when the nights were dark, when thunder rippled through the academy, her mere presence kept you steady. And Cordelia was your sun, the person who you could rely on and the other way around. She knew she could leave the academy in your hands when the council meeting’s piled up, knowing you would enter her office at lunch everyday with a bright smile and some tea or coffee, depending on the day ahead and her mood.

The four of you had become inseparable at some point, opting to spend dinner in the quiet atmosphere of each other after the witches, establishing daily routines like your evening unwinding and weekend activities. But a few months ago something had changed, a new witch joining the academy and you two growing close and despite having loved those three for several years, you never thought they could feel the same, accepting your feelings and moving on with this new person that equally made you feel seen, cherished and loved. Wilhemina had been the first one to notice how quiet you had been lately, how you barely smiled or laughed anymore and how you always seemed a million miles away. And tonight she couldn‘t keep her silent concern in any longer.

„You‘ve been quiet tonight“ she exclaims after about an hour of the four of you sitting in silence, this often happening but this wasn‘t a comfortable silence and she could tell. You are quick to force a smile, weak and unconvincing „I‘m fine Mina, just tired“ you mumble, trying to hide the trembling of your hand but she had already noticed a while ago. Her brows furrow and you see the concern in her gaze. „Don‘t lie to me“ she says, voice barely above a whisper. „I can tell when you‘re lying, you know“ she murmurs, hoping she could coax you away from this silence and make you share the way you usually had. Cordelia and Billie had heard of course, trying to give their lover the chance to make you open up but they could tell she isn‘t getting anywhere with the way her brown eyes search theirs.

„Sweetie, you know you can always talk to us, right?“ the supreme tries softly, not wanting to overwhelm you but wanting you to know. Billie ever the attentive one, reaches for your hands, noticing how uncomfortable you seem before she gasps. „Honey, you‘re trembling“ she says, voice and features filled with concern as your eyes avert theirs. „Promise I‘m fine“ you lie, knowing you aren‘t convincing but not having an ounce of strength left to pretend anymore than you are. Before either of them can speak again, the front door opens and you pull your hands away, knowing who returned. Alex, your girlfriend walks inside, halting a moment as she sees you four before giving you a sign to follow her. And so you reach for your book, mumbling a quiet „Goodnight“ before leaving and following her upstairs to your shared room.

The three of them sigh, not having a good feeling about this for weeks now but not any proof that they are remotely right. „Something isn‘t right“ Billie mumbles as she reaches for a cigarette and her two girlfriends are quick to nod in return, equally having a feeling something was going on. A few days passed and slowly the facade began crumbling as a silent thunder ripples through the academy, a storm that had been brewing for weeks but that you managed to contain and hide but today there was no hiding it anymore. „You are such a stupid bitch“ she speaks, her voice hitting you hard as you try and make up for the mistake you had done. „I‘m so sorry“ you apologize as you had been in charge of buying some things and clearly messing up.

„You can‘t do anything right can you?“ she spits and for a moment tears fill your eyes, not scared ones as fear had left you a while ago. Sad ones as you remember how she used to treat you, her bright smile when seeing you, showering you in gifts and compliments and making you feel like the most special and beautiful girl in the world but lately you couldn‘t help but feel like the biggest burden on the planet, never able to do anything right, unloveable and nothing more than a fuck up. Tears rise as you think about the times she took you on dates, silly selfies you took, holding hands, wearing matching rings, exchanging outfits and being dorks together when the world seemed okay. You remember how much she would worship you, how she would hold your hand and hold you through the night but those things stopped after a little while, the initial getting to know each other phase over and things too serious to end it.

It had been the same for weeks, silly arguments over nothing, at first trying to fight your ground but when that didn‘t work out well, you took it, apologizing and fixing the situation before it could escalate. You had become good at hiding, sometimes placing a spell on your room so no one could hear the raised voices and insults but you had been tired, unable to sleep at night, the crushing sadness keeping you away and the anxiety and fear of it all keeping you from functioning properly. „Answer me“ she demands, ripping you away from your thoughts as you try your hardest to hold it together. „You‘re such a waste of time“ she spits before reaching for her jacket and leaving, banging the door so loud that it causes you to shiver. And then you let the tears flow, sobbing in silence as you wonder where it all had gone wrong.

Unaware to you, both Wilhemina and Cordelia had been sitting in the supreme‘s office, two doors down, startled when they heard the shouting before their eyes silently communicated. „Don‘t“ the redhead had to remind Cordelia as the supreme rose „This isn‘t our business“ she reminded her but the blonde didn‘t agree, you having been her buiness and theirs for years. „But she is our business“ the supreme counters. But her girlfriend had convinced her, not wanting to overstep as they sat in silence, hearing the exchange before hearing the door bang shut. Wilhemin was equally enraged, her hand tightly gripping onto her cane as she tried to stay calm, not run in there and tell Alex all the things she had on her mind since first meeting her, wanting you happy but able to tell she couln‘t give you what you deserved.

Equal to you they were awake that night, wondering whether your silence lately had anything to do with this, despite this being the first time they actively noticed something. By the time morning came around, you woke up to an empty bed, knowing Alex probably spent it at the bar or with her friends and you managed to get yourself out of bed, wanting to make things better as you made sure to tidy the room, pick up her things that she always left everywhere so carelessly , expecting you to take care of those things. You made sure to change the sheets, clean your ensuit bathroom before leaving the academy, wanting to return some of the wrong things you had bought and making it up to her. Returning the items was easy despite it taking you several hours to get what she originally wanted. In the end you stop at one more shop, picking up her favorite chocolates and some flowers, hoping you could make it up to her.

By the time you are in the queue, your phone begins blowing up and you see several messages coming in about where you are, to answer immediately and what you are doing. You freeze as it‘s your time to pay, knowing what was going to await you at home and suddenly you lose the ability to breathe, panic settling in your chest as you stand frozen infront of the cashier. „Ma‘am are you alright?“ he asks and it takes someone‘s hand to find your shoulders, perfectly manicured nails to ground you. You immediately snap out of it as you see Billie, quick to apologise before tapping her card against the reader. „I have got it darling“ she whispers before taking the bag and softly guiding you out of the shop and to her car. „Are you okay?“ she asks, her eyebrows furrowed and laced with concern. „Yes sorry“ you quickly mumble as you force a smile. „Let me take you home love“ she offers but you shake your head, not wanting to be a burden. „I‘m not leaving you here, come on“ she urges as she takes you to her car.

As soon as you get inside, memories flood your mind of the many times Billie had taken you out, late night drives, the medium showing you the world a little before everything changed. Your trembling hands reach for your wallet as you try and find some money but she is quick to place her hand over your shaking one. „It‘s no big deal darling, I told you I have got it“ she murmurs and you remain quiet as she begins heading home. There is silence between you, a heavy one as the woman can tell you are a million miles away, having heard from her girlfriends about what happened and assuming that explaining your state today. „Are those for Alex?“ she mumbles as she guides you out of the car and hands you the bag. „They are lovely darling, I‘m sure she will appreciate it“ Billie smiles as she watches you nod and head upstairs, her features tense, seeing you so sad and quiet, never having seen you like this before.

By the time you make it to your room, you find her, sitting impatiently by the window as her eyes find yours. „Where the fuck have you been?“ she greets you and you sigh, struggling to keep yourself together at this point. „I got the things I got wrong yesterday“ you explain before quickly adding „Don‘t worry, I returned the others“. She inspects the bags before nodding and you sigh again before handing her the bag of chocolates and flowers „I got these for you, I‘m so sorry again“ you apologize, trying hard to reach her eyes and search for anything you had seen in them when you had fallen for her. „Did your whore buy them for you?“ she spits and your eyebrows furrow as you hear her talk. „What?“ you ask confused as she carries on „I saw you with that blonde, she drove you home“ she exclaims and you sigh before staying quiet, not feeling it to explain yourself. „You are such a whore for them, don‘t you see how that slut looks at you?“ she spits.

And then something within you snaps, not caring about the names she had been calling you for ages now but crossing a line when you hear either of the three women getting called any names. „Don‘t call them that“ you warn, voice filled with something that even scares you. She raises an eyebrow before chuckling lowly and before you know it, you feel the stinging of your words on your cheek, one of the rare times she had touched you. The world stays still as she storms off, tossing the flowers and chocolates in a trash can, before leaving. By the time Billie returns from the garden for her cigarette, she furrows her eyebrows as she hears the front door banging shut, seeing the things she had bought thrown away so carelessly and something within her causes her to walk up to your room, Cordelia still teaching and Wilhemina still at work.

The medium knocks softly, before stepping inside, hearing some mumbling as you expected Alex to maybe have returned. You stiffen once you realize it‘s Billie and immediately rise to your feet, forcing a smile. „Hey Billie“ you greet her and despite the image seeming so normal, she knew you better than this, knowing you are pretending with her which she hated. As she steps closer, her breath hitches as she sees your red cheek, clearly able to tell there is a hand print on it and her eyebrows furrow as she looks at you. „Y/N what is this?“ she questions, the tremble in her voice betraying her concern as you can‘t help but brush her off. „I‘m fine Billie“ you mutter but she isn‘t having it „What happened?“ she asks, taking your hand into her own as she locks eyes with you. „I fell“ you lie, too tired to think of a better excuse and she could tell you aren‘t going to open up. „We are always here, no matter what“ she whispers softly before leaving you be, able to tell this was only making you more uncomfortable.

Days pass and the three of them began growing increasingly worried, having heard from Billie what had happened. Cordelia began growing more and more overprotective, often being held back by Wilhemina who still struggled to give in and let them take care. For days they had barely seen you, only teaching your classes before disappearing again. Tonight you had retreated to the library again, your girlfriend playing games on the computer in your shared bedroom, often playing online and busy and so you opted to have some quiet time for yourself. The libary had become your sanctuary, equal to the greenhouse but more quiet as no one usually stepped inside other than a certain redhead. And by the time you hear the gentle tapping of a cane, your eyes reach the door as you see Wilhemina step inside.

„Hi little one“ she greets you gently before closing the door, feeling relieved to find you alone. „Hi Mina“ you greet her with a soft smile and she is quick to cross the room before sitting beside you. „What are you reading?“ she asks and you lift the book to show her the cover, seeing the book that she had bought for you a few months back, a soft smile spreading across her face. „How are you?“ you ask her, your usual softness back which causes the redhead‘s heart to swell for a moment, having missed this side of you terribly. „I‘m good sweetheart“ she says before tilting her head to the side a little „How are you.. really?“ she asks and you pause a moment, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable under the gentleness of her eyes and the softness in her tone. And as you meet her brown eyes you suddenly long for her, to be in her arms and be held, hoping she could fix this broken part of you that is beginning to feel more trapped by each passing day.

There is a thick heavy silence as Wilhemina watches your heart shatter in front of you, trying hard to keep your composure and not to begin crying, not wanting to worry them further as you know they have been concerned lately. „Can“ you begin but stop yourself before the words leave you, realizing you shouldn‘t. „What is it little one?“ she encourages, clearly seeing there is something on your mind. „Can I have a hug?“ it comes out broken and barely audible and her eyebrows raise in surprise, Mina definitely not one for physical touch unless she has the upmost respect, love and trust in the other person. And she doesn‘t waste a second before nodding, opening her arms as she pulls you in, watching as you hold on for dear life.

You cherish the feeling of being in her warm arms, her lavendar perfume lingering in the air as she fixes your broken pieces slowly, your heart feeling warm at the strange sensation that the person meaning to give you this had been deprieving you of those feelings for the longest time. Time passes slowly and neither of you let go as you cling on and her hands begin brushing over your back softly. When the library door opens you quickly pull away, breath hitching as you see Alex stepping inside, her expression tense as she meets the redheads eyes. Without another word you get up, watching as Alex begins leaving and you mouth a quick „Thank you“ and whisper a faint „Good night“ before leaving her and she sighs, the pieces falling together slowly as she begins understanding what is going on.

„What the hell were you two doing?“ Alex hisses and you remain quiet, mumbling something about catching up, knowing you could never tell her what happened as her jealousy would get the better off her. The two of you go to bed, and before you know it she faces away from you, the same every night as she begins being on her phone, leaving you lonely and sad but tonight Mina‘s hands keep you warm as you remember what it feels to be held, feels to be close to someone and you can‘t stop thinking about her soft smile before you fall asleep, a soft smile on your lips as for the first time in a while, your heart didn‘t feel as heavy and aching the way it had been for a long time.

„She asked you for a hug?“ Cordelia asks a bit dumfounded the next day as the redhead tells them both what happened the night prior, unaware that Alex lingered and heard every word. „I think there is something really wrong“ Billie begins, having a strange feeling for the longest time now, the unease beginning to creep into her bones. „I think it‘s time“ Wilhemina says softly as she glances at Cordelia, finally allowing and agreeing she should talk to you, knowing the supreme could coax anything out of you, the two of you always having a deeper understanding. The truth is that at one point you had loved them, deeper than you had ever loved before, loving Billie‘s charm and bravery, Wilhemina‘s calm and how collected she is and Cordelia‘s sunshine. But you didn‘t think they could love you, add another person to their relationship and when Alex showed up, showing you the world, you pushed your feelings for them aside despite them lingering.

„What the actual fuck“ Alex spits as she walks into your shared bedroom, door banging shut as it startles the three women downstairs. „You asked her for a hug? are you really that fucking desperate? don‘t I give you enough?“ she spits and you remain silent, too tired and broken to even open your mouth. Once they hear shouting, Cordelia immediately abandonds what she is doing, her two girlfriends following behind her promptly. „I told you to stay away from those three, they aren‘t good for you, fake supreme, a cripple and that old hag“ she spits and there it was again, your feelings suddenly bubbling to the surface as you abruptly stand. „Shut your fucking mouth“ you scream, the three of them startled as they reach the top of the stairs, never ever having heard you like that. „Don‘t you ever speak about them like that, you have no right“ you continiue, even Alex shocked at the sudden outburst before she steps closer, almost a faint smirk on her features.

„I know how you look at them, how they look at you“ she begins before you begin backing away a little. „You are a cheating whore, how long have you done this? or is it all in your dumb fantasy? having them love you and take care of you“ she asks, raising her hand which causes you to flinch. „You are worthless, no one could ever love you“ she spits and before anything else can be said, the door swings open as Cordelia steps inside. „Thats enough“ she warns, taking in your frame as Alex turns to face her. „This is our room“ your girlfriend exclaims which causes the supreme to step closer. „This is still my coven and if you think for one second you can treat her this way, you are mistaken“ she carries on which causes Alex to turn to you again, almost if expecting you to say something and speak up to the blonde. But you remain quiet, too overwhelmed by it all to even speak.

There is a silent conversation in their eyes as Alex and Cordelia stare at each other but eventually she falters, huffing before leaving, seeing Wilhemina and Billie by the door, rolling her eyes before leaving the academy, your girlfriend running like she usually would. „Y/N?“ Cordelia asks gently as she steps closer, noticing how you seem not really there, Billie and Wilhemina equally stepping inside. The image almost kills them as they see you so spaced out, as if you aren‘t really in the room with them anymore. „Sweetie?“ she tries again as she steps closer but before she reaches you, you flinch, your body and mind in overdrive as you struggle to understand what is real anymore. She steps back immediately and this time the three of them understand, just how deep this is running, how far this had gone, questions answered that had been on their minds. „I won‘t hurt you angel“ she coos, before gently reaching for your hand, brushing her hand over them to ground you.

And by the time you manage to snap out of it and realize she is gone, the shame, guilt and embarrassment hits you all at once, having them know, having them see and unaware how much they had heard to begin with. „I“ you try to speak but the words get stuck in your throat as your eyes dart between the three women, their faces filled with all the concern and love in this world. „It‘s okay baby, we‘re here“ Billie tries but it feels too much, everything feels too much as you take a step back, Cordelia‘s healing touch leaving you as the walls close in around you. „I- need to be alone“ you whisper, holding back the tears with ever ounce of strength you have left. The three of them glance at each other before Wilhemina steps forward „I don‘t want to leave you alone little one“ she tries softly with her word choice. „Please“ you whisper before Billie and Wilhemina glance at Cordelia, almost desperately.

„Is it okay if we come check on you a little later on?“ she asks gently before you nod, just wanting to be on your own and eventually they agree, with heavy hearts as they leave you be. And once the door closes it takes every bit within you to contain the sobs as you curl in on yourself, wanting to scream and cry at the same time. The pain comes and goes in waves as you contemplate everything, wondering how exactly you could have fallen victim for this. You had always wondered why women stayed with their abusive partners but becoming one yourself changed your entire perception. The constant gaslighting, the insults and the manipulation make you feel sick but there is still this part of you that wonders whether she could still love you truly and whether you could have the feeling back that you once had. Eventually the world turns to a blur as you fall asleep, curled up in your bed, still wearing clothes as you lay in a ball, soft whimpers escaping you as your brain tries to work through the trauma of the last few weeks and today.

Cordelia had checked on you briefly, not wanting to overwhelm you with the three of them present and found you asleep, gently putting a warm blanket around you and some dinner incase you would wake and need any. But you don‘t, sleep keeping you comfortable and safe until the afternoon of the next day before you wake up a little confused, realizing how long you had slept and finding the kindness of the three women on your nighttable as you see some flowers from Billie, some lunch from Cordelia and a new book from Wilhemina, frowning at their kindness that you didn‘t feel like you deserved. It takes you a while before getting out of bed, heading to the bathroom before walking downstairs, hoping not to find anyone, as you just wanted to sleep and disappear. But as you reach for some water, you notice the three of them talking in the living room and the guilt eats at you for how kind they had been, clearly not having noticed you as you stand by the doorframe for a moment.

You watch Cordelia and Billie on the sofa, Wilhemina on her armchair as they share quiet conversations while the fireplace crackles softly in the background and suddenly you feel incredibly cold, wishing you could join their warmth and feel it in your cold bones and tired heart. „Sweetie“ Cordelia is the first to notice you as she pats the space next to her. „Come here“ she encourages and you do, feeling a little vulnerable under their concerned gazes as you sip some of the water. „Did you sleep okay?“ Billie asks as she locks eyes with you and you nod before seeing Wilhemina give you a warm smile. „Little one we“ she begins but the sound of the front door opening and closing startles them and as you see Alex in the hallway, you immediately freeze, the water glass slipping through your grasp but Cordelia‘s supreme senses quickly pick it up before it shatters. Wilhemina‘s blood boils as she sees her standing there, a fake apologetic expression on her face and some pathetic attempt of an excuse, some flowers in her hands.

Billie has to supress a scoff, knowing those weren‘t even your favorite kind and wanting nothing more than to rip them from her hands and shower you in your favorite kind instead. Cordelia immediately stands, covering you with her presence as she glances at the black haired witch. There is silence for a while before Alex speaks but she does „Y/N darling I‘m sorry, can we talk?“ she speaks and you swallow hard before standing, not wanting them to witness this. Before you can go anywhere, Cordelia stops you, her hand keeping you there. „No“ she interjects, Alex surprisied expression meeting hers. „Delia it‘s okay“ you try but her overprotectivenenss stops her, having sworn to never let this happen again. „No“ she speaks firnly before she glances at your girlfriend again „If you have something to say do it here“ she orders and Alex sighs before stepping closer, Billie on her feet immediately as Alex carefully places the flowers on the table.

„I‘m sorry baby, I have been stressed lately but I love you“ she whispers and you glance at her, trying to find the honesty in her eyes and even though your heart longed for her words you couldn‘t belive them. „Can we talk alone please?“ she tries again but you shake your head, which causes the three of them to raise their eyebrows in suprise despite the pride feeling in their chests. „Fine“ she whispers before leaving, the door banging closed as she leaves you be. You leave just as quickly, feeling nothing but shame for the three of them having to deal with this, burdening them in such a way when they had their own life, unaware of the part you play in it and have been for years. They watch you go with a heavy sadness in their eyes, knowing you needed the space but nevertheless wishing they could fix this. „Pathetic“ Wilhemina mumbles as her eyes lock with the flowers, her features filled with hatred.

For days sleep remains your quiet comfort as you enjoyed the silence, despite the occasional dream feeling safe in the darkness but of course it didn’t go unnoticed by the two blondes and redhead who both cared and worried so deeply. Their quiet concern showed with them regularly checking on you, placing meals and little gestures on your nighttable or tugging you in when they found you curled up. But tonight Billie couldn‘t wait any longer as she gently knocked, seeing you asleep for almost the entire day by now before gently calling your name. Your eyes force open as you see the blonde medium before a smile meets you, a warm and soft one. „Hi darling, I‘m sorry to wake you“ she speaks before gesturing to the edge of the bed and you nod, watching her sit and you sit up, not wanting to be rude, despite feeling exhausted still. „Can I talk to you love?“ she asks and you mumble a quiet and sleepy „Yes“.

„I was just wondering if you wanna talk? about anything at all, I won‘t judge but I promise I‘ll listen“ she speaks softly and her warm eyes make you feel so safe that your facade almost falters. There is silence for a while before you see her hand reach out, careful and slow, her eyes asking for permission and upon you nodding, gently holding it in place. She can tell you want to open up but at the same time she can see the vulnerability in your eyes. „Can you tell me how long this has been going on?“ she asks carefully and you whisper „A few months“ which causes sadness to fill her eyes. „What happened baby, you two used to be happy“ she tries, not understanding what had gone wrong. And that was enough to get you to speak, voice shaky as that same question had been on your mind. „I don‘t know“ you sigh, beginning to shake a little as memories flood in.

„I was so happy at the beginning, she was everything to me and she made me feel loved and seen. We had so much fun together and she made me forget“ you whisper which catches Billie‘s attention. „Forget what sweetie?“ she asks with furrowed brows as your gaze averts hers. „I loved someone else“ you admit „But I didn‘t think that could work and then she came and it made me push those down“ you admit, raw and vulnerable. „And then things changed, small at first“ you whisper as you lock eyes with her again. „Like what angel?“ she asks, so proud of you for sharing with her. „She would make me do a lot, all the cleaning and tidying and chores and I didn‘t mind truly but then she became distant“ you admit which causes Billie to sigh. „I would sometimes ask for a hug or a cuddle but she always turns around at night and I feel lonely“ you admit and suddenly it makes sense to her, why you had asked Wilhemina before. „She would call me names and we would argue and then she started“ you stop yourself just in time, the words to painful to repeat but Billie knows.

„I know sweetie and I‘m so sorry, you don‘t deserve any of that“ she sighs, wishing she could fix this for you. „She said she was sorry though and she got me flowers“ you try, falling into the old spiral as you think about the good times. „Darling, you always deserve flowers and not as some cheap excuse and apology“ she says, her nails running over your hands as she can‘t contain whats on her mind. Your breath hitches at her words before you whisper a quiet „Thank you Billie“ and the woman smiles sadly „I‘m always here to listen, we all are“ she encourages and you nod before a yawn ripples through you and the medium takes that as her sign to leave, only able to imagine how much strength that must have took, despite wanting nothing more than to hold you through the night. „If you need anything, you come find us okay?“ she whispers before leaving and you nod with a weak smile before curling into yourself again.

Sleep washed over you quickly but the three women remained awake, Billie repeating what you had told her and the truth breaking them. They had no idea it had been that bad for so long, hating the fact you had been hiding it, wishing they could have seen sooner, your words repeating on Wilhemina‘s mind about pushing feelings for someone else away. She can‘t help but wonder if you meant them, the love between you four so obvious at times. It takes them a while to fall asleep but when they do you are on their minds. Around midnight, you wake up, suddenly starving as you hadn‘t really left your room or eaten much. You steal away into the kitchen, appreciating the silence of the academy before opening the fridge, finding some left overs with a sticky note and your name, recognising Cordelia‘s handwriting and the gesture causes you to smile.

As you turn around, your smile quickly vanishes though as you see the silhouette of Alex in the shadows, quickly watching her step into the kitchen and light. Your breath hitches and by her posture and expression you could tell she was drunk, her probably having spent several days there or with her friends. „Alex“ you whisper before she steps closer, swaying a little. „What were you smiling at?“ she asks and you look into her eyes , trying to read what she may do before mumbling a quiet „I don‘t know“. She steps closer, causing you to back away before she hisses „Don‘t lie to me“ and you close your eyes, just wanting it all to stop. „Tell me, have you slept with them yet?“ she asks and you sigh, her jealousy something you couldn‘t stand anymore, growing less and less scared and more annoyed by the minutes passing. „Alex- I don‘t want this anymore“ you whisper, a sudden bravery taken over you as you are surprised yourself by the words.

„You little whore, you think you can leave me?“ she chuckles lowly which causes the shaking of your hands to return, knowing whats next. And when she charges for you, you do the only thing you can think of, run. You run upstairs, seeing how she was right behind you, knowing you couldn’t make it to your room safely before desperatly knocking on the three womens bedroom door, hoping despite the middle of the night, they could hear you. But after the first knock, you feel her yanking your hair, pulling you backwards and onto the floor, causing your head to hit the marble flooring hard. „Please“ you scream before the first blow lands on your face, almost knocking the breath from your lungs. Her fists land on you hard as she crouches over your form, a rage in her eyes that you hadn‘t seen before.

And despite this taking mere seconds, it feels like an eternity before the door opens, exposing three shocked face as Cordelia immediately pulls her off you, shoving Alex down the hallway as she kneels beside you, seeing how your face is bloody, expression pale. „What the hell do you think you are doing?“ Wilhemina‘s voice ripples through the silent academy as Alex composes herself. But before she can step forward, Wilhemina abandons her cane, fist landing hard in Alex‘s face as she had been meaning to do that for a long time, the redhead usually never one for this kind of violence but not able to contain herself any longer. The punch is so hard it sends her to the floor as she collects herself but before Wilhemina can carry on, Billie pulls Wilhemina aside, eyes pleading to stop this and all that is left for Alex to do is run, steal away as she knew there was no way she could ever touch you again.

Cordelia‘s hands glow with magic as she tries stabilizing you and Billie and Wilhemina are quick to turn their attention on you as they see you so broken and beaten, wishing they saw this coming. „It‘s okay sweetie, you‘re okay“ the supreme whispers, watching your eyes fighting to stay open. Wilhemina watches you wiggle, almost fighting off the supreme‘s magic, assuming you are scared or in pain at first. „It‘s okay little one, Delia will fix this“ she coos but when the words leave you moments later, beaten and broken, their breathing hitches. „Please don‘t“ you whisper, causing Billie‘s eyebrows to furrow. „I don‘t want you to fix me, I want it to stop“ you whince through the pain. „I want it all to stop“ you repeat, causing tears to fill their vision as the words leave you. „Don‘t.. don‘t say that sweetie“ Cordelia tries through tears , her own hands shaking as she tries to make the pain stop.

And when Wilhemina‘s encouraging hands find the supreme‘s shoulder she manages to fight through this, put you to sleep with her magic before healing you. Once the blood is gone, they sigh in relief for a moment before Billie‘s sobbing echoes through the silent academy, startling the other two. „She doesn‘t deserve this“ she cries now, unable to keep her emotions at bay any longer. „We should have stopped this sooner“ she cries, causing Wilhemina‘s guilt to ripple through her chest as she had been the one stopping Cordelia to intervene from the start. Still she pushes through the pain, guiding Billie off the floor and into their room as the supreme quickly sweeps you into her arms and takes you to their sanctuary too, knowing they can keep you safe there. She lays you on the bed, wrapping you in some blankets before walking over to the medium and wrapping her in her arms, knowing Wilhemina was equally hurting and may need some space.

It takes a few hours until your body wakes again, eyes fluttering open before the pain sharply reminds you of what happened. And for a second your breath hitches, unaware of your surroundings until you realize where you are, recognizing the bed you are laying in and their room. When you force your eyes to open you see Wilhemina sitting on an armchair in the corner, Billie Dean at the end of the bed but no supreme in sight and for a moment you wish you could disappear, not wanting to deal with the shame of this and for how much you had dragged them into this already. Wilhemina is the first to notice as her eyes glance over you, finding your eyes open and she immediately rises, startling Billie as the medium glances up from her phone and her eyes meet yours. „Hi darling“ she greets you warmly before her hand finds yours, her manicured nails keeping you grounded as the anxiety ripples through your chest.

„Are you okay little one?“ the redhead asks and you simply nod, words too much yet as you try and collect yourself, not wanting to burden them anymore than you already have. Their eyes silently communicate as your silence worries them, long seconds passing before the redhead takes a seat beside you on the bed. „Are you in any pain?“ she asks gently before you shake your head and try sitting up, feeling like an intruder in their room before the pain overwhelms you. Billie instantly notices you whincing at the pain before her hand finds your shoulder, trying to reassure and steady you before you flinch, eyes forcing closed and she immediately retracts her hand, your pain reflecting in her eyes. „I‘m sorry“ she whispers before Wilhemina tilts her head, trying to think of what to do. „You‘re safe with us“ she reminds you but it‘s too much and so all you can do is shake your head and try to find balance as you attempt standing.

„What are you doing?“ Billie asks as she glances at Wilhemina panicked and the redhead immediately stands, able to tell by your pained expression, how pale you are and Cordelia‘s words about this magic not light on the body, this was a bad idea. And she was right, as soon as you stand your legs give in but the redhead is quick to catch you, guide you back on the bed as you glance at her with a scared expression. „This is because of Delia‘s healing magic darling, you‘ll be okay“ Billie coos before hot frustrated tears stream down your cheek. The embarrassment of it all causes you to wipe them away and as Billie glances at her girlfriend she can tell you feel overwhelmed. Seconds later, the supreme steps inside, seeing her lovers concerned expression before she takes a glimpse at your form. „Sweetheart, you‘re awake“ she coos before stepping closer.

You don‘t dare to look at her or any of them as you pull your knees to your chest, wanting nothing more for the earth to swallow you whole and erase your existence. By her girlfriends expressions, she can tell there was something wrong and so she kneels beside the bed, looking at you before whispering a soft „Can you look at me?“ and when you don‘t her lips twitch before she whispers „Please Y/N“ and the tone in her voice, so soft and gentle causes you to do just that. „Can you talk to us? are you in pain?“ she asks before you shrug, still not finding your voice yet. „No matter what you feel right now, you are safe“ she reminds you before Billie nods „We just want to take care of you“ she whispers before you sigh, a painful one as you try collecting yourself.

„Can you take me to my room please?“ you whisper, glancing at Cordelia‘s whos eyes find your teary ones. „Why sweetie?“ she asks, immediately concerned as she remembers your earlier words. „I don‘t want to be here“ you whisper which causes Wilhemina‘s eyebrows to furrow. „Why?“ she asks, voice raw and vulnerable and then the dam breaks, whatever you had been feeling finally spilling from your lips. „Because I‘m- a burden“ you choke out, voice barely above a whisper but before they could even say anything, the rest spills. „You have your own life and I have been dragging you down with mine for weeks. Neither of you deserve that, you should be happy and not worried about me. I‘ll be fine“ you whisper before Cordelia shakes her head. „Sweetie, you aren‘t a burden, you mean so much to us and you.. you are a part of our life“ she smiles which causes your eyes to meet hers, a flicker of hope crossing your features for a split second.

„We love you“ Billie suddenly blurts out, unable to hold it in any longer. „And I know you meant us when you told me you had feelings for someone and I‘m sorry we didn‘t see it sooner, sorry you had to find out this way but we do. Every single one of us loves you for different reasons“ her confession leaves you stunned and in tears as you lock eyes with Cordelia and Wilhemina, almost asking silently whether it‘s true. „We do little one“ the redhead admits before Cordelia speaks softly „It‘s true darling and I know you may want time or you may not want this at all and that is completely your choice but please let us take care of you, you have been through too much“ she whispers and then your hand finds hers, rushed almost as if their truth is too much to bare. She holds it immediately, not too tight but enough to make you believe she is there and wasn‘t going to let go.

There is a long silence before Billie speaks again „You deserve someone who will not turn around at night, who will hold you, who will put you first and not make you do any chores, who will never touch you without permission, who will treat you with the same kindness you treat them. You deserve your favorite kind of flowers and so much more“ she whispers, causing you to almost blush if this wasn‘t all so sad and triggering. „Thank you Billie“ you whisper, almost a little shy before she presses a kiss to your hand that she had been holding for a while now. The medium disappears for a smoke for a second, wanting to get you some water before you glance at Wilhemina, the same overwhelming feeling of wanting to be in her arms creeping up on you and she can tell. „Mina can“ you whisper before she nods immediately, moving closer as your arms wrap around her and she holds you, Cordelia watching the exchange with a bittersweet smile, knowing this was the first step in many to get you to heal.

„We would love to take care of you sweetheart, if you let us“ Cordelia tries gently as your head rests on Mina‘s shoulder, eyes finding the supreme. „Promise you aren‘t a burden“ she whispers before you nod. „Okay“ you whisper, sad, scared and broken before the supreme‘s eyes fill with tears, tears of relief and pride. Her hand finds your face, halting before you nod in permission. She is soft in the way she caresses your cheeks, whispering sweet reassurance as Wilhemina holds you closer. And the supreme made sure before that your ex girlfriend was never going to bother you again, never step foot into the coven or near you ever again. „We‘ve got you now“ she whispers softly and with the redheads arms around you, so much safer and steady, holding you as if you are the most fragile thing on the planet and the supreme‘s reassuring eyes, Billie‘s kindness, a glimpse of hope washes across you as you think that maybe, just maybe they could treat you right and heal the parts that someone else had broken and taken from you.