#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

[registeredboykisser]

I'm just thinking of Silco at like the worst lows of his late teens/early twenties. (tw for VERY unhealthy coping mechanisms, including substance usage, domestic violence, and just generally self destructive behaviors)

Drug abuse: He was probably too broke to afford most decent drugs and instead was at the mercy of whatever dealer he could find, which probably included a few tampered ones here and there. He might've neared overdose at times, where he just barely got enough medical attention to live.

Alcoholism: Would probably result in severe hangovers. Vander would try and restrict his habits (despite the irony of owning a bar), but he'd just find somewhere else to go because he was that desperate to forget and feel something other than discomfort.

Aggression: Ok yeah he probably punches enforcers any day of the week, but that's expected (and justified). But like, this man is probably a piece of SHIT to everyone else when he's upset. Verbal attacks, physical harm, anger issues in general that he'll take out on anybody regardless of relationship.

Self harm: Not the stereotypical kind, and it probably never did any serious damage, but punching walls or getting a bit too antsy with his blade when he didn't have someone else to take it out on seems likely.

My #1 headcanon for Silco is that this motherfucker is HORRIBLE with emotion, especially since we saw that scene where he just had a full blown meltdown. Probably was worse when he was younger but either way

All I can do is imagine Vander doing his best to help him because he's so stubbornly caring and he knows Silco is struggling. But most interactions during these types of episodes would either result in him being yelled at, having to carry Silco to somewhere safe if he ended up in an alleyway, seeking out medical attention for Sil, cleaning up broken glass or bodily fluids, or even getting hit or physically hurt because of him. Some, nearing the end of these phases, might end in them actually talking and Silco just breaking down in tears or passing out in his arms, but majority of them probably didn't turn out good. He knows it's unhealthy and Felicia lectured him for it all the time because she cares for both of the damn bozos, but he just ignored it because he knows Silco is different and just needs help/support before he gets himself killed or seriously hurt.

I think these kinds of weeks would be triggered by some heated politics in Piltover, where regardless of whether it was his fault or not, he was frustrated and angry and full of rage at his oppressors with no chance to do anything that would actually make an impact.

woah this was a lot more angsty than I anticipated (probably because I threw in a lot of issues but c'mon, it's completely unregulated)

[cillian-gets-me-wetter]

thinking of you - kiss it better (part 1)

summary: after the end of her tour across the united states for her second album, erika decides to stop by and visit her favorite person before she has to inevitably go back home.

warnings: smut (18+ only!), angst, mentions of drugs and drug use, emotional + verbal abuse (tw!), mention of blood (tw!), brief instance of dv (tw!), cheating, friends to lovers, blackmail, revenge porn

disclaimer: i do not own people or teams mentioned in this story besides the original character(s). this is strictly for fictional purposes only. there are mature topics discussed throughout this series so i strongly advise to please read at your own discretion.

masterlist ✨

italics - flashbacks

divider: @kodaswrld

word count: 3,702

erika entered the cvg terminal, wearily dragging her suitcase through the lively airport. the tour for her second album, short n' sweet, was a huge success, having many sold-out shows across the u.s. performing live every night and the fans' support gratified her but at the end of every show, she was alone with a gnawing emptiness inside. she couldn’t help but ache for some form of familiarity, to be somewhere that felt like home. after getting her bags from baggage claim, she ordered an uber to hotel covington. while she was waiting for her ride outside, she longed to feel joe’s body heat pressed against her, his enticing hands feeling every inch of her body.

they hadn't seen each other in months since paris fashion week. there, they snuck around whenever they could, going out to dinner by themselves or he’d end up sleeping in her hotel room. she recognized the moral dilemma in their situation. she knew cheating was wrong but joe made her feel wanted and satisfied like no man ever had. their connection made her feel alive. the car didn’t take too long to arrive, putting her belongings in the trunk, getting inside shortly afterwards. erika looked out the window at the passing city streets of cincinnati; she was stuck in her own head. she had spoken to her boyfriend, nicholas, only a couple of times since leaving to start her tour.

the couple had met at an audition one day, hitting it off pretty well. soon after, they matched on tinder and continued talking. they went on several dates before nicholas officially asked her to be his girlfriend. their relationship began with a magnetic attraction. it was rushed. they quickly found an apartment and started living together within a few months of dating. around the same time that erika started hooking up with joe, his behavior made her question everything she thought she knew about him and his character.

october 2023

erika stood in front of the mirror, taking the time to admire her outfit once more before she and nick were about to leave to go out. she wore a midi polka dot brown dress, leaving her hair down but styled it in lustrous curls. she was reapplying and touching up her lip gloss when he walked into the room, his eyes bored into her back with disdain and disgust before she turned to look at him, beaming with excitement. “hey, babe! are you ready to go?”

her smile dropped slightly when she saw the frown and disapproving look on his face. “is something wrong?” he sneered, “you’re seriously going out like this?” she blinked, taken aback by his reaction. “oh. i thought you would like this dress.” he rolled his eyes, replying in a curt tone. “well, i don’t. it’s ugly, who are you trying to impress, huh?” she tried to defend herself, not wanting him to think otherwise. “nobody, i just-” he quickly cut her before she got the chance to finish, “you know what? i don’t fucking care. go change or i’m leaving without you.”

she nodded and turned her back to him, walking back down the hall to their bedroom as tears formed in her eyes. her confidence and excitement for the night ahead squashed down like a defenseless bug.

july 2024

erika stirred in her sleep when she heard faint gasps, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, trying to register her surroundings. she turned to face nicholas when she saw blood dripping from his nostrils and the sound of him choking on it. her eyes widened in horror at the sight, unsure of what to do but shook him in hopes that he’d wake up. she whispered, her trembling hands shook his shoulders, “baby, wake up.” after a minute of trying to wake him up, he jolted awake with a gasp, startling erika and attempting to regain control of his breathing.

her hand waringly rested on his back to not startle him more but nudged her touch away with his shoulder, wiping the blood off his nostrils and face with the back of his hand. she flinched when he pushed her touch away but didn’t want to press it. “are you okay? Why is your nose bleeding?” he doesn’t look at her while he gets out of bed to clean himself up. “it’s allergies, don’t worry about it. go back to sleep.” he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. erika got out of bed, lightly knocking on the door to not aggravate him. she spoke to him through the door with the sound of the sink running. “babe? are you sure you’re okay?” she heard him let out an exasperated, annoyed sigh before speaking, “i’m fine, erika. just go back to fucking sleep.”

her heart ached at the tone of his voice. she felt like all she did was annoy him. she moved away from the door and lied back down in bed, a gnawing feeling in her gut that something wasn’t right about his so-called “allergies”. he never had that happen throughout their time dating but didn’t want to bring it up since she didn’t want to argue with him.

a couple of weeks before she left, their fights escalated. she had recurring thoughts about one night in particular that was on her mind.

september 2024

the door slammed shut after erika and nicholas got home from dinner with a few of her costars from outer banks. she thought the night was going well until the drive home from the restaurant. erika examined nicholas with care. she saw the tension in his muscles when he walked past her. he met her gaze, rolling his eyes and seething in anger, “i can’t fucking believe you.” her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his outburst. "what are you talking about?" he scoffed, her confusion only frustrating him more. “don’t play dumb, erika. why were you flirting with him?”

she shook her head. “who? drew? i wasn’t flirting with him; i thought we all had a good night, babe.” she tried to place her hand on his arm to calm him, but he jerked away from her touch with aggression. his eyes narrowed in her direction, his jaw clenched, growing angrier because of her answer. “that is such fucking bullshit. i saw the way you were eye-fucking him the whole time; do you think i’m stupid?” she tried to explain herself to him, standing a few feet away while she watched him pace the room. “nick, please, it wasn’t like that. just listen to-”

he cut her off with a sudden shout. “shut the fuck up already!” he grabbed the vase filled with wildflowers off the dining room table and threw it at her head. erika gasped and cowered instinctively, her arms moving to shield her face. the shattering glass and spilling water echoed through the room and in her ears. he stormed past her, crunching broken glass underfoot. he entered their shared bedroom and slammed the door behind him. she uncovered her face, seeing the damage this small fight caused.

dirt and water were splattered near her heels. the bouquet of flowers lay in disarray on the hardwood floor. erika looked at her forearms and saw small, bleeding cuts from the shards of glass when he threw the vase at her. while she cleaned up the mess with trembling hands, she couldn’t help but think that joe wouldn’t treat her this way. he never raised his voice or berated her; he was always patient and gentle with her. something that nicholas no longer knew how to be.

she walked on eggshells around him, a sense of dread made chills run down her spine at the idea of returning to los angeles. she was terrified he would find out the truth, that he had driven her into the arms of her best friend.

after arriving at the hotel and checking into her suite, erika went inside. she unpacked a change of clothes and decided to take a shower to freshen up and clear her head. the water cascaded down her face and body, steam fogging up the mirror. she wondered how joe would react to her unexpected arrival. she knew he was struggling this season. he was working hard to win after a recent loss to the ravens. but the media's scrutiny after each game was not helping. their focus on the team's poor record overshadowed his high stats as a quarterback.

she wanted nothing more than to be there and support him through this rough patch. but erika also knew the risks if people found out about the true nature of their relationship. not only did she have nicholas’s reaction to worry about, but the general public and the media would have a field day, already imagining the tiktok gossip videos and news articles being made and written about them. she got out of the shower, changing into shorts and an oversized lsu shirt that joe had given her. then, she plopped down onto the king-sized bed. she scrolled through her phone and landed on his contact, deciding to call and let him know she was in town.

erika clicked on the call button, hoping he would answer when she heard the dial tone. after the third ring, he picked up, “hey, bunny. what’s up?” her lips curled into a smile after he answered. god, she missed him. “nothing much, baby. i miss you.” he let out a soft chuckle, setting his bag down in the passenger seat and getting in the car. “i miss you too, princess.” she got up from the bed, walking around the room as she held the phone close to her ear. “you just got out of practice? how did it go?” he sighed and nodded with a gentle motion, even though she couldn’t see it. “yeah, i finished up a bit ago, it was okay. how was your last show?”

she ran her manicured fingers through her damp hair, exhaling a deep breath. “it was good... a lot of fun and emotional, as per usual. i’m just tired now.” a faint smile formed on his face when he heard her speak about her time on tour. he missed her so much. “i bet, baby... you need to rest. are you heading back home?” her teeth tugged at her bottom lip gently, her stomach was in knots while she thought about how to approach this conversation. what if he didn’t want to see her? "well... not exactly. i ended up taking a detour.” his eyes narrowed in confusion, wondering what she meant by “a detour.” where could she have gone? “a detour? where did you go?”

she sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “i’m in cincy, actually.” he laughed, believing that what she said was a joke. “bullshit.. no, you’re not.” when he didn’t hear her laugh along with him, his eyes widened as he processed her words and allowed them to sink in. his girl was actually here to see him. he started fiddling with his keys right away, trying to start the car so he could go see her. “what hotel?” she giggled, hearing the faint jingle of his keys in the background. "covington. room 243.” a sense of relief washed over her that he was looking forward to seeing her again, all she wanted was to be in his arms. he nodded, putting the key into the ignition and starting the car. “will be there in 10, stay put.” 

joe abruptly ended the call, tossing his phone on top of his bag in the passenger seat and started driving over to the hotel from the stadium. his heart pounded in his chest at the thought of being able to be near her and touch her again. erika set her phone down on the bed, lying down and staring up at the ceiling. she was looking forward to seeing him but the weight of her relationship troubles with nicholas was heavy on her mind, having the tendency to get anxious whenever joe was on the way to see her. she took in a deep breath and exhaled, feeling her nerves begin to settle down.

she didn’t realize how much time passed until she heard a knock on her hotel room door. she got off the bed, walking over before answering it. all her doubts and overthinking went away once she saw him, moving out of the way to let him in. as soon as he closed the door, she wrapped her arms around his neck, capturing his lips in an impassioned kiss. he deepened it, his hands wandering to the small of her back, pulling her body closer to his. he couldn’t get her out of his head for months and now that she’s finally here, he didn’t want to fathom letting go.

when they broke apart, erika looked up at him, meeting gaze, his icy sapphire orbs boring into hers. her eyes were chestnut with golden flicks. he looked at her like she hung the moon and stars. joe smiled softly, breaking their comfortable silence. “hi, bunny.” his fingers grazed her face lightly, moving her hair out of the way and tucking the strands behind her ear. she smiled back, looking at him with a depth of love and adoration that she had felt for him since they were in college. “hi, joey.” she buried her face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his cologne wafted into her nose, wrapping her arms around him, wanting to savor how close he was as much as she could. she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “god, i fucking missed you.”

joe accepted her embrace, her smaller stature fitting perfectly against his muscular and athletic frame. he nuzzled his nose in her hair, smelling the fragrance of her vanilla and toffee shampoo. “i missed you too, baby. i couldn’t get you out of my head.” she moved her face away from his neck, looking up at him once more. she leaned in, their noses touching before kissing him again. he gasped, his tongue nudging at her bottom lip as if he was asking permission to enter. she parted her lips slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue in her mouth. she moaned softly, letting him take control like she always did whenever they were together like this. her fingers landed on the hem of his shirt, helping him take it off and tossing it on the floor carelessly. he guided her back onto bed without breaking the kiss.

joe’s hands slipped underneath her shirt, caressing her body leading up to her breasts, groping and fondling the pillowy mounds. erika pulled away from his lips and let out a soft moan, her hands running over his chest, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of his touch after months of not being around him. she parted her legs invitingly for him to settle in between them more comfortably and wrapped them around his waist. she whispered to him, her nails grazing his skin lightly. “i need you so bad, baby. help me forget, please.” he nodded, helping take off her shirt and tossing it on the floor too. “i got you, bunny. always.”

the cold air from the room hit her nipples, making them perk up while joe looked down at erika in awe. he always thought she was the most beautiful girl he has ever seen in his life. but seeing her this vulnerable just for him was something he could never get over. he groaned lowly, leaning down and his tongue flicked over her left nipple, suckling it in his mouth. a breathy whine came out of her mouth at the feeling of his teeth grazing her skin. her fingers threaded in his hair, watching him through hooded eyes while his mouth worshipped her other breast. her hips diluted against his clothed groin, his hands moving down to the hem over her shorts.

he released her right nipple out of his mouth while he pulled down her shorts and panties, tossing them to the side, getting a good look of her wet arousal glistening before him. joe was beginning to kneel down to eat her out, erika stopped him, her hands on his broad shoulders. “no, wait!” joe looked up at her with concern, hoping he didn’t make her uncomfortable. “what’s wrong, baby?” she shook her head, a shy smile forming across her face. the way joe looked at her and was always considerate of her feelings made her feel desired and loved. “nothing’s wrong. i just really need you to fuck me, i can’t wait anymore.”

without another word, joe flipped her over onto her hands and knees on the bed like she weighed nothing. a delighted squeal comes from erika, bending over and arching her back, her round ass facing up obediently for him. he pulled down his sweats and boxers, kicking them off from his ankles. his throbbing, erect cock springing free for full view, slapping against his toned stomach and pre-cum leaking from the tip. he moved closer, adjusting her hips towards his groin. joe rubbed the swollen head of his cock against her slick folds, chills shuddering down their spines at the feeling. he sharply hisses while he finally slips inside her. erika’s breath hitched before exhaling a breathy moan, stretched and filled to the brim with every inch of his dick.

she rocks back, pushing her ass against him. joe’s fingers dig into the plush flesh of her hips, thrusting inside of her deeper. erika whimpered, “fuck, that feels so good..” she buried her face in the sheets to cover up her noises as joe’s cock pounds deep into her pussy. his breath shuddered, angling his thrusts deeper within. “yeah? is my dick making you feel good, baby?” the warmth of erika’s wet cunt enveloping around his girth made him grunt, his hands moving away from her hips.

she nodded and whined into the pillow, moving her hips to match his movements. his right hand wrapped through her silky, long black hair, pulling her hair so that he could hear her moans. she mewled at the slight sting of pain from him pulling her hair but it added the right amount of pleasure in that moment. erika looked up at him through hooded eyes, her hands pulling him down by the nape of his neck to face her, capturing her lips in a teeth, tongue clashing kiss. joe kissed her back, his free hand grabbing at her breasts, pinching her nipples.

erika broke away from the kiss, whispering against his lips. “i love you.” joe pecked her lips briefly, whispering back in response. “i love you too.” he let go of her hair, she laid back down on the bed, his hands gripping on her hips again as he continued fucking her. her eyes rolled back, needy and incoherent cries were muffled in the pillow, digging her nails in the sheets. the sound of skin slapping against skin, her moans and his grunts filled the room. her pussy clenched around his length, indicating to him that she was close to cumming. he pants heavily, feeling that he was close too, moving one hand off her hip and reaching down to rub her clit.

she let out a choked sob, the coil in her stomach on the brink of snapping when joe was rubbing her clit. he bent down over her body, his breath in her ear. “cum for me, baby. milk my cock dry.” his words and his teeth nibbling on her earlobe brought her over the edge, she exclaimed a high-pitched gasp, her legs quivering underneath him and cumming on his cock. the feeling of her pussy squeezing around his dick and the sounds she made and whimpers brought him to his climax, letting out a curse under his breath as he growled, cumming deep inside of her cunt. the impact of her orgasm, the weight of her emotions surrounding her relationship with joe and her problems with nick came crashing down over erika like a typhoon.

her heaving pants turned into crying, curling herself into a ball when joe slipped out from inside of her. his face dropped, concerned at the sudden change of emotion, hoping he didn’t hurt her. he stroked her hair lightly down to her back, not wanting to upset her further. joe asked her gently, “hey, what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” erika shook her head, sniffling while she tried to regain control of her breathing. he moved her damp, sweaty hair from her face, wiping her tears away with his thumbs before laying her head on his chest and wrapping his arms around her petite frame. she melted in his arms, finally feeling at peace again.

she took in a few deep breaths before moving her head off his chest to face him. “i’m sorry, joey. i didn’t mean to scare you like that.” he shrugged as if it was the most casual thing in the world. “it’s okay, baby. i was just hoping i didn’t hurt you.” she gave him a small smile, her fingers trailing down his chest. “you didn’t hurt me. i just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” he nodded, understanding that feeling. “i understand. well, if you want to talk about it, i’m here whenever you’re ready. just rest for now.” she kissed him softly, his reassuring words put her at ease. “thank you, i’m really glad i came here.” he smiled, looking down at her. “i’m glad you did too, erika.” she snuggled against him, closing her eyes before falling asleep in his arms.

while erika knew she’d have to tell joe the extent of her issues with nick eventually, she wanted to enjoy this moment with him, wanting to enjoy the feeling of being back in his arms before she had to face reality again. as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn’t live in this fairytale fantasy forever.

[spicycinnabun]

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

big alphas don't cry + tommy pov + h/c - tw for ref'd verbal and physical abuse

❤️‍🩹

Alphas don’t cry. That had been ingrained in Tommy since puphood.

A toxic rule, yet one he had never quite managed to unfollow.

Everything had to be taken on the chin. Crying had been punished with reprimands roared in the Alpha voice and, if that hadn’t worked, a swift fist to a vulnerable body part. The violence hadn’t stopped the tears from falling initially, but with repetition, it had eventually succeeded in muting him. Tommy had learned to force it all back before it spilled over and made a mess of everything.

The problem was that as he moved into adulthood and faced one painful life experience after another, it became harder to retain his emotional training. Chips evolved into cracks until it felt like he was constantly on the cusp of breaking. 

Naturally, he tried to avoid situations that would hurt him—and naturally, the universe disregarded what he wanted and threw those situations at him while he tucked tail and ran, ran, ran. It got so bad that he started flying instead of running, going up to escape it all.

Tommy had long since severed his relationship with his father, but that voice still tyrannized Tommy’s head on bad days. Telling him he needed to hide himself. He would lose all respect if anyone saw him fall apart. He would be a joke to other Alphas and repulsive to omegas. He would have no chance of having what he wanted most: a close unit of friends, a mate, a family.

So it was unfortunate that Evan, the omega Tommy adored who looked at Tommy with literal stars in his eyes sometimes, was the first person to see him cry in nearly two decades.

Not just a single, glistening tear type of cry, either. No, this was an ugly, face-crumpling cry that belonged to someone weaker. It didn’t belong to big, strong, Alpha Firefighter Pilot Kinard.

The most humiliating part? 

The only thing that had triggered it was Evan kindly asking him, “How was your day?”

He could’ve just sighed, said fucking horrible, honestly, and been done with it.

Instead? His feelings—crash!—all over the floor.

“Um,” he’d said, and that was as far as he’d gotten.

Evan looked startled, immediately grabbing Tommy’s hand and stepping forward when Tommy tried to turn away from him and shield himself. The room flooded with his sweet, concerned scent. “Oh no—honey, hey. Hey.” The endearment didn’t help stem the flow. It made it worse. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I’m leaking?” Tommy joked, mid-sob. God. He was making a scene. His chest was tight, and his breath was starting to heave ridiculously. “I don’t—know. I c-can’t—s-stop—”

He wanted to flee.

But Evan made a soft sound, framing Tommy’s face with both hands. They were warm. Smelled like cinnamon sugar. Tommy could only see a very blurry version of him. Was he revolted? “Oh,” Evan breathed. “C’mere, c’mere.”

He wrapped his arms around Tommy. When he squeezed, Tommy shook like a giant leaf. In shock. And, well, the whole crying thing was doing it. He wasn’t used to being comforted when he lost control.

“The leak?” Evan rubbed his back. “I can fix that.”

The only reason Tommy understood that reference was because of Evan. Damn millennial. It broke his tension as he laughed wetly, burying his chin in the crook of Evan’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

Tommy thought Evan would pull away after that, but he didn’t. Tommy didn’t want him to let go. The low rumble of Evan’s omega’s purr started emanating from his throat, and Tommy—big, strong, Alpha Firefighter Pilot Kinard—sank further, deeper, into his arms. 

“Don’t need good luck, Alpha.” Evan’s fingers gently scritched the nape of his neck, up and down. Soothing Tommy into the rhythm. “Just some good TLC.” 

Such a tender, loving, caring omega. How anyone had let him go, Tommy had no idea.

“Do you want to talk about it?“ Evan asked eventually. “And do I need to kill anyone? Because I will not hesitate. Just give me the hit list.”

Tommy smiled a bit. Evan sounded entirely serious. “I don’t want my omega locked away in prison. And no… don’t think so. Not yet.” He swallowed past another lump in his throat. Sniffled. “Maybe later.”

“Of course.” Evan kissed the scent gland behind his ear, whisper-soft. “Whenever you’re ready.”

❤️‍🩹

tag list: @chococara25 @lemon-drop151 @bidisasterevankinard @cannibalhellhound @theallyandhisbeast @loulou-land @harmonic-intervention @manifestingchaoticvibes @notacyborg @tedious-waffle @ginny-lala @figuringitoutaloud @monstertrucksactually @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @know1udno @styxhuntress @all-the-feels @espressopatronum454 @alejaan91 @station18908 @the-omniscient-narrator

[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!

[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.

[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?"

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

[cxndiedvi0lets]

Looking for help

TW: Verbal and Physical Abuse, Suicide, Self-Harm, Eating Disorder, Sexual Harrassment, Mental Health, Animal Abuse

For anyone who's reading this, I just want to say thank you, and even if I'm desperately seeking for help. I'm not tagging anyone. You may know me as Violet or CxndiedVi0lets on Tumblr, and I've been blogging a lot in a while.

I've had severe episodes in the past where I may have been acting too extremely or even at this rate suicide. I've already had the mindset at the age of 5, and honestly, I'm really tired of pulling this act.

I honestly just don't want to be in this household anymore.

Over the years, my mental health has become progressively worse, and I've tried to seek help from a psychiatrist and a psychologist and have been diagnosed with severe depression along with psychotic episodes which well knownly for my anxiety and impulsive nature of BPD which of course, my impulse is no excuse but I'm not saying its not hard to control.

I stopped seeing a clinic because of my brilliant and intelligent father, who simply seemed to know everything. Then, continues to mock me for my condition.

So, I stopped on medications and everything else even if I was progressively getting worse, not only mentally but as well as physically.

I begin to fail a lot of my subjects and further have been neglecting my health but, Its not what im going through details.

The part where I've really finally snapped is when he threatened to kill my cats, and I've stopped telling them everything because they always use my past against me or remind it as a "safety precaution." I was sexually assaulted at the age of 7, which lasted until I was 12 before my grandfather was kicked out. To say the least things weren't going smoothly, I thought to myself it never affected me but didn't realized it had affected me in ways of self-destruction thinking it was just a normal cycle of a hormonal teenager which I won't elaborate my acts on which you can decide on.

I've had a lot going on in school. I've been sexually assaulted by a classmate recently, but I never elaborated on it, and his acts on me because I didn't wanna make a biggee deal of what I'm going through, even if it is over. I still see his face every day in school, passing by, he was just changed courses and I tried my best to make myself unrecognisable by changing how I dress and my looks which also kind of resulted me getting bullied lol and having my name written on those ridiculous smash or pass books degrading me and objectifying me. It didn't bother me... or at least I think it didn't. I've had a lot of rumours spread around me, and I have been oversexualising myself and making up stories to sound like im a whore. Stereotypical american netflix high school stuff huh?

And yet, I go back home to be used as my father's punching bag (literally) even when it's my mom's fault. It's always the case, and he always justifies it that me being beaten up despised getting bruised was for lecturing me or whatever, lol.

I also hate the fact that they'd even keep more pets like dogs just to have as a toy then neglect them once they begin to have health conditions and continue to get more than complain about them. They don't even have any remorse if they're dying or sick.

Same way of how my father used to lock me up and forced me not to eat cause I dropped a plate accidentally once lol.

I rarely eat, especially when they're around, and they like to complain about why I don't eat with them. I just like to say im not hungry, and now I dont actually feel any hunger at all, and some point that stress led me to gaining weight and overeating which of course led into other health complications. Like bleeding. Anyways skipping on that.

I honestly don't know what to do trying to hide a façade like this anymore, I just want to die or run away im never happy with literally anything. I can't feel anything, I've gotten used to so much pain, I just don't even react to it even when they start swearing at me or calling me names or anything. I don't feel human at all.

I just wish someone could help me maybe leave me advise or maybe send me something on my paypal just so I can earn to get out of this place. I honestly don't care if they think im selfish, I've had enough of this life.

[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.”

[alliskit]

The Grand Design.

TW: 18+.THE NEXT SEVERAL CHAPTERS will include depictions of abuse and violence. It addresses sexual abuse themes and includes explicit sexual content.

CONTENT WARNING: Depictions of attempted suicide (not super detailed, just implied) Verbal Abuse (some detail) Sexual Abuse (some detail)

TLDR: Skip from ["Abigail..." he warned.] to ["New Memory."]

Song for the chapter:

On AO3.

CH. 9: Day Two.

- He was impressed - Hello Soldier (Jen POV)

I learned a few things that night.

First, the hag could hear us. 

As a joke I yelled for something to sleep on out of the gash in the wall. Moments later, several pillows, blankets, and a large cot bed appeared on the far side of the cave. Then I called out for some blood rags and something for cleaning ourselves. Two piles of towels appeared. One pile was damp, rolled up, and warmed, and enchanted to reset after each use. It was similar for the pile of clean dry rags for my period.

When those showed up, I became very cognizant of Astarion. The blood was only due to get worse over the next few days. He assured me he had kept himself from biting many a human woman on their bleedings for two hundred years. It was a fluke the night before. 

I didn't trust him, but it's not as if I could do anything about it. Only hope he would at least try this time since he couldn't drink my blood anyway.

Second, he had a massive back tattoo. When the cave light dimmed down to blue and yellow glowing mushrooms throughout the cave, I decided to it was high time to try to sleep. I took off my boots and socks, set my gun up near my head, and tried to tuck myself in on the double cot only to be assaulted with, "You're sleeping in your armor?" In which I had to remind him he ruined my only corset, so I was free balling under my leathers. He said something he thought was sexy, but was just slimy as he took a seat at the end of the 'bed'.

"Was that a joke?"

He paused. It clearly wasn't. "I'm here for your entertainment."

"If that ain't the truth."

He wanted to be irked. He really did, but he tongued the inside of his cheek as he tried not to smirk at my comment. Then, he did something I didn't expect. He, very casually, took off his outer padded doublet and pulled off his ruffled shirt, handing it over to me. 

"Sleeping in leathers is like sleeping tied up."

I just watched him for a moment, taking the shirt from him. He nodded, turned, his back now exposed to me, and began pulling off his own boots. The tattoo on his back was large, intricate, and beautiful. It looked liked like a bleeding sun, the rays some kind of text. It must have taken hours and a few sessions to complete. It was completely white scar. I couldn't help staring at it. 

He turned and caught me. A small scowl greeted me. "Like what you see?"

My brows knit, "Am I not supposed to like it?"

He huffed through his nose as he glanced at the moss floor. Then, he looked back up at me, his face a little more congenial. "Out with it."

"What?"

"Any time someone sees it they have some kind of comment, so" he waved his hand, "Please get on with it."

I looked him up, "It's pretty? It looks like it hurt like a bitch, but it's really interesting and a cool concept."

He looked confused for a moment. "I'm not sure what you meant by the temperate context, but I assume it is a good thing." He looked back down at his boots. "And, I guess, thank you?" But, he didn't seem thankful.

I crumbled his shirt in my hands. "Alright, that response to your tattoo was super confusing. Most people get really excited to talk about the art they put on their bodies, but you seem... Not so." 

He turned his head toward me, but didn't look at me. "It's not a tattoo. It's..." He reached up over a shoulder and brushed a corner of it with his finger tips. "Scars. They're scars from something my... Cazador put on my back. I've... never even seen it."

I didn't respond.

He turned a little to look back at me. A small, pitiful grin meeting me. "He did it in a night. And I guess it's somewhat a solace that it's beautiful." He faced the knotted door, hands clenched together as he leaned on his knees. "I wouldn't expect anything less of him."

An awkwardness laid between us after that and even more so when I changed into his shirt. I expected it to smell like nothing since he is technically dead, so he probably wouldn't have body odor. Though, he could have smelled like death. But, instead, it smelled musky, nice, as if he wore cologne even while lost in the woods. I didn't ask. Even if I could conjure up some kind of tease, he might realize I actually liked it. And I didn't need him to realize anything as he laid down beside me. 

Lastly, the bastard barely sleeps. He wakes to do stuff to pass the time, too loud to let me sleep in peace. 

I laid there watching the light leak into the cave as he stalked around the fairy circle, again. 

"You'd better have found a way to send me back to Earth with all fucking noise you made."

He snorted, "I've been waiting for you to finally speak up. You've been stewing for hours."

I turned to face him on the cot.

His facial expression mocked me. "Don't you have children? How can you not sleep through noise?"

"Do people here in Faerun live in one room houses? Did your parents sleep through your antics?"

He rolled his eyes. "Some can only afford homes with one room."

"You don't cross me as poor. You probably sucked silver spoons."

He eyed me, "You know nothing about me."

"Ditto."

He raised a brow, "What?"

I blinked at him. "It means 'same'."

He made a face and went back to examining the fairy circle. After a moment, he spoke again, "Are you thirsty?"

I rolled onto my back again. "If you've found an alternate water source, please don't hold back."

He tipped his head to me, "No. Your only options to throw yourself from a cliff or drink what's on the tray."

”Why did you want to know then?”

He hummed, “To get a better picture of how long we have before making some difficult decisions.”

I sat up, the shirt falling a little with the loosened laces. He scanned my exposed collarbone impassively, then looked away. He was in his doublet, the front open exposing his wiry, but cut frame. He was still barefoot, like me. It wasn't as if we needed our boots in here. I tightened the laces a little, pulling up the shirt over my shoulder, then walked over to grab a rag and head to the gash in the wall.

He watched me the whole way. 

"Turn around," I said, pointing.

His eyebrow ticked up as he smirked, "No."

"Excuse me?" This little menace.

"I said no."

"I need to take a piss. Turn around," I demanded.

He leaned in. "No," he drawled.

My cheeks heated. Was this guy serious? The fear of him killing me to drink my blood took a swift left turn. What if this wasn't him teasing? What if he was a creep? From what I knew of vampire lore from my planet, they were dangerous for more than simply hunting people. He had said if he could, he wouldn't let another person touch him for eternity. He, also, said a well fed spawn could dominate people. Was my fear of him killing me short sighted? Death wasn't the worst thing that could happen to someone. 

He made a face, "Fine, I'll turn around. Stop getting so worked up."

I hadn't said a thing, just stood there watching him for a few moments. The stretch below my ribs had started to pull tight, but I wasn't in full panic yet. Could he hear my heart beat? He could smell my bleeding. 

I looked down at the rag in my hand. I didn't have to piss anymore. I was too 'worked up' now, but I still needed to check for blood stains.

He turned away, crossing his arms.

I pulled my pants down, keeping my sights on him for as long as I could. I peeked down. 

"Shit."

"You're heavy today," he called, facing away from across the room.

"I really hate you can do that."

He giggled. I shook my head. Stupid vampire elf. 

I definitely needed to wash my underwear. Also, I would have to pull off my pants to put water to them and try to get the blood out of my leathers. 

"You know, we're going to have to see one another one of these days. You have until tomorrow before needing water. I will bet you will not even make it the rest of the day."

I huffed through my nose. He wasn't wrong about the probability of seeing one another naked, but I wasn't ready. I didn't want any of this. If he believed that my consumption of the laced food was his permission to take what he wanted, I was in a lot of danger. I wasn't about to encourage that behavior before I had to address it. 

"You can wait until I tell you to turn around. I need to pee and I need to clean up. If you can smell it, you know it's bad. I can't sit around in this and I need to clean the inside of this leather before it bleeds through."

He turned his head, but not enough to see me, "Fine. I was only teasing. Take as long as you need."

And I did. After I cleaned my underwear and pants, which was abysmal, I finally peed over the lip of the cave, hoping I wasn't peeing on top of the body. I didn't even try to look. A passing thought of what it would be like to defecate in front of him threw heat into my neck and face. 

"What could that be for?" He asked facing away from across the room.

"How do you do that?" I called back.

"I can hear your heartbeat and smell when your scent changes. You smelled like embarrassment. It's a little like fear, but not as heady."

I opened my mouth, "When we get to that bridge, I will bring it back up."

"Can I look now?" he asked.

"Sure."

He spun around, returning to face me. I made my way over, finishing the final ties on the sides of my pants. 

"Think we can try to get this thing tested today or are your nails still too short?" I asked as I stood next to him. 

He examined his nails, they were normal. "It won't be today unless we can procure a sharp rock or shiv a spoon."

"Glad you know what a shiv is."

His brow rose, "Why wouldn't I? I lived as a slave for two hundred years. I was a prisoner. I wasn't allowed to bite anyone, I had to be able to defend myself. Only trusted spawn were granted use of weapons."

I ground my jaw. What could I even say to that? "Well, if you show me how, we can shiv the spoons."

He watched me a few seconds, then grinned, "It would be my pleasure to show you how to properly shiv a spoon."

I licked my teeth, holding my laughter. Maybe, being trapped together wasn't going to be as bad as I feared. "So, what do we do now?" 

We just watched each other in silence. His red eyes soft and concerned as he realized at the same time I did that we were going to need real entertainment, especially if we were going to try to avoid food and water over the next day.

"I'm not sure," he finally responded. 

"You spent two hundred years trapped and you can't come up with something for us to do in a cave?" I teased.

His face turned to irritation. I smirked. He rolled his eyes, then smirked too. He was a better sport than I originally gave him credit for. 

His face turned smarmy, "I can think of one thing we could do to pass the time."

My humor died. "To be honest, I don't really think that's all that funny. I don't want to be drugged into having sex with someone I don't know. Someone who actively tried to kill me only a day ago, who I don't really trust, who doesn't know anything about me, and has no reason to care about me."

"Ditto," he mocked.

We just stared seriously at one another for a beat.

He made a face. "You can't do casual sex?" He spat.

"Odd offer coming from the one who was pretty insistent about not wanting anyone to touch them ever again for all eternity."

His face went blank. "I'm not the one the hag wants pregnant. If I'm lucky I do what I have to, then I'm freed." 

"To leave me stuck behind. How on brand," I shook my head. "Unbelievable."

He huffed, twisting his jaw. "I'm as trapped as you are. When you eventually have to eat or drink, you will be overcome and I will have to... help you. Better get comfortable now when we're not drugged, I think."

"I don't see it that way. There's got to be loopholes, like sipping. There's no way I'm 'overcome with lust' like you say if I sip it or spoon it over hours at a time. It will be uncomfortable and I imagine I'll still be horny and really hungry, but at least it can be managed."

He snorted, "You have never been under the influence of succubi spit. It's magical. They charm with a single kiss. You can't just sip it. As soon as it hits your lips, you will be under the spell."

"Well, shit when you put it that way..." I rolled my eyes. "Fine, I'll just fill up on the dream shrooms. One at a time, right?"

He just watched me seriously. "It's no joking matter."

I leaned toward him, my eyes passing between both of his. "I'm scared, too."

He softened and sighed a little. "Then it looks like your options are magic mushrooms for now. This will be a good time to practice your strength of mind and will, darling."

I felt my hand in his cool palm as my mind pulled and tunneled as it had yesterday. 

"You need to think of something emotive," he had said before passing me a small pink mushroom. "I will warn you, if you are prone to falling into thought spirals, you will lose control. When it happens, I will do my best to break it."

"Like I broke yours?"

He nodded.

"What is your favorite memory?"

I stared at him blankly. "How am I supposed to come up with that on the spot?"

"Most people have one." He eyed me oddly.

"Do you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. We'll start with thinking of a single good memory. Think of it and focus on it."

With that, we had laid down and gotten started.

I felt my inner world wrap around me, late evening spreading across my mind's sky. Older homes lining the lamp post lit street along a two way road. Overhead outdoor lighting drew my shadow along the sidewalk. Cars were parked bumper to bumper along street's edge. Music filtered out of the small brick building behind me. A neon sign lit the side of Astarion's face in bright colored light. 

"Where are we?" Confusion and wonder poured out of his whole being. "What are those?" He pointed to the cars.

My smile spread wide, "Horseless carriages."

His eyes grew wider.

"They are called 'cars' but really it's an automobile. Automatic mobile vehicle."

He pointed past the street to the lit up homes. "And those are homes, dwellings?"

I nodded. "Those are considered old, in my country. Many built almost a hundred years ago." He gave me a surprised face. "Yeah, my planet has been here a while, but my country has only been around for just over two hundred." I peeked behind me, "And despite what this little tavern looks like behind us, this is a wealthier side of town."

He just raised a brow, examining the small brick building lit up with beer signs and one that said 'Cavalier' under arched lights.

"How..."

I followed his eyes. "Are you asking about the lights?"

He nodded.

"It's called electricity. We figured out how to harness water, heat, and lightning to power..." I shrugged, "Well, everything."

His mouth went slack. "How..."

"No idea. That's way over my head. Consider it our 'magic'. We have advanced technology because we don't have to rely on real magic." I walked over to the door, pulling it partway open. "Ready?"

He nodded again, still in amazement. 

We walked into the quaint restaurant. It wasn't so much different than a tavern on Toril, not that I would have known at the time.

There was a wooden bar on one end with a barkeep serving drinks in front of a large mirror. In the main space, there was a spread of wooden booths for seating. The kitchen spread out behind them and in front was a game table for billiards. The one signature difference between his world and mine was something Astarion was staring at in disbelief. 

"I don't know how television's work either. It's essentially moving pictures. Cameras record images in succession, then speed them up together to create videos." He just stood watching one with his arms crossed, his brow creased. "And I'm not sure how my mind remembers it so vividly, but that's an athletic event here on Earth, specifically my country, America, called football. It's two school teams, rivals." (Michigan State versus University of Michigan! Not that any of that matters or is relevant to anyone here...)

He clenched his jaw, face stern, "Our minds are capable of remembering or forgetting in ways we don't understand."

"I know. I don't know how many of these 'good' memories will be entirely accurate considering my mind doesn't quite know how to get out of 'survival mode'."

He just watched me, waiting for more.

"Survival mode is where the brain shuts out certain 'unnecessary' bodily and mental functions to focus on ones that will keep you alive. One of those is memory recording and storage. It needs to focus on keeping you from having a mental breakdown and surviving your environment. Your brain chemicals are pouring in during stress which causes your brain to fail to record memories properly, but then it tries to fill them in on the back end. It usually just makes shit up for you, sometimes even rewriting or erasing old memories to make space for the imaginary. Sadly, it's not very good at it or just good enough to trick itself into believing they're real until they're challenged by someone's better depiction of reality. But, it makes you question everything you remember and makes you really easy to manipulate."

His jaw ticked again as he looked around the room. Then, "Does this seem real?"

I looked around at the dingy, but warm scene. "I... It's real. This memory isn't like the best ever, but it was a light in the dark. A moment of peace that I actually noticed for once." I turned and walked us to the back corner booth where a younger me was carving into the wood siding, surrounded by four friends and a pile of potato wedges. "We were drinking ciders waiting on our burgers."

"Are you carving your name on the wall?" His tone was judgy, but his mouth ticked up into a proud smirk.

"Oh, yeah. As you can see I wasn't the first and definitely not the last. That wood was... so old. Hopefully, my mark is still there for someone else to brush their fingers over." I smiled softly, then turned to Astarion. "Want to try a potato wedge? The best I've ever had." I walked over and picked one and stuffed it in my mouth. I half expected it to taste like nothing, but it was just as warm and seasoned as the day I bought it. 

He sauntered over, picked one up gingerly, then tossed it back in two bites. "Oh, dear," he hummed through a full mouth. He swallowed, eyes wide, smiling, "That was delightful."

"Try it with this." I reached across the table and grabbed one of the sauce cups. "We call this ranch. It's a creamy herbal garlic sauce. The Cav's was the best."

He dipped another wedge in the sauce, tossing the whole wedge back in one bite. His eyes flew open as he chewed and swallowed. "This had better be as good as your memory serves. If this is your mind misremembering, I don't want to know what it's truly like."

I smiled softly, "If we can figure out how to get me back, maybe you can come with me and I'll take you some time."

He watched me the same way he had that first night with Durge. A vulnerability peeking through the mask.

I shrugged, "Their burgers are meh, though."

He cocked his head.

"Do you guys have burgers?" As if on cue from my memory, the waiter came around us and set the plates in front of each of my friends and me. I turned to Astarion, "It's a sandwich with a ground beef patty. I prefer mine with a cheese slice, tomato slices, pieces of lettuce, pickled cucumbers, and some different sauces."

He grinned as he watched my friends and I stuff our faces, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. "How old are you here?"

"I'm probably twenty-two."

He hummed, smirking a little. "Quite a young beauty." 

My brows knit, teasing, "How old are you again?"

He threw his head back, smiling wistfully at me, a hand lifting to his chest, "Eternally thirty and nine, darling."

I grinned back. "I'm thirty and five."

He looked me up, then over at my memory, and back again. "Not too far off. A few more lines."

"Ha!" I gave him an amused look, "Cute, but untrue." I looked back at myself. A moment of silence settling between us as we watched past me eat and chat. "I didn't even realize how hurt I was or how much I had been hurt, or how much I would be."

The room spun around us automatically. We were now standing on the front walkway of an older house, lined in blooming irises, still late evening. I sighed, staring at the front door that was always unlocked, a warm light leaking out of the large windows next to it. "The Lansing House," I said quietly.

I turned to see Astarion watching me. "Remember, if you drop too fast, you will lose control. Negative memories are the hardest to stop."

I nodded, "This is a mixed bag. Some of my best memories and worst all happened in this house." I glanced around the small street of homes. "This town was where I went to university. I spent my school years and several after here."

He just stood listening.

I turned back to the house. "This house is where I met some of my best friends. It's where I found myself as a person. It's where..." I paused. So many emotions called out for attention inside of me, but I needed to maintain control like he said. "I don't know if I can go inside. Even if I wanted to."

He nodded, "Then don't. Next one."

I stared at him a moment, "Where do I even go?"

He grinned softly, "What is your favorite place on Earth?"

The world spun around us, immediately, without any conscious decision to change it. The place just came to mind and we were there, on top of the mountain I loved most: the Knob. 

But, this time I wasn't standing. I was sitting, Sylas in my lap. I had been observing as a third person, but now I was facing the large moon rising in the east, a small warm body in my arms. 

The night of the Nautiloid. 

My heart dropped, my breathing a little shallower. My head flipped to the west, where the ship had come in from. Astarion stood behind me watching, warily. Then, as if manifested, the ship appeared streaming through the sky like a comet.

"Abigail..." he warned.

My stomach dropped. The world flipped again.

We were in the kitchen of an old apartment. I was standing in a puddle of juice and broken glass. Brian stood before me. I didn't even have time to feel grief. Just an invisible belt around my ribcage cinching tight as I remembered.

He was screaming profanities at my face. His face was bright red, reminding me what a careless and stupid bitch I was. I felt the tears fall without blinking. Shock and fear pulling down like rocks in my lungs.

Not again.

The world spins. A different night, same apartment. It's more furnished. Brian is, now, throwing a mixing bowl onto our tile floor. The 'shatterproof' bowl breaks on impact as he screams at me for being a cunt. My chest throbs, my heartbeat skipping as a knot builds under my ribs.

Another spin. I'm getting dizzy. Our new house, the house I miss so dearly. The house I may never see again. I didn't even get time to reminisce. Brian and I are in our bedroom. Brian's dead pan face stares down at me as he tells me he wishes he wouldn't have to deal with me ever again.

A flash and I'm in my kitchen, a large knife is in my hand as I stare down at my pale wrist.

Another twist of my surroundings. Now, I'm standing in front of a large mirror in a small bathroom: the house I grew up in. The face that looks back at me is so young, too young to feel this level of desperation and emptiness. I see the pill bottle in the sink, then turn to see a toilet full of vomit because I couldn't even do that right.

The face in the mirror changes as the bathroom becomes a dark living room. I look up into a face I never wanted to see again, a name I never utter, a friend, a lover, someone I trusted with my whole heart. He hangs above me, breathing into my face.

I asked him to stop, stop, stop.

I wasn't expecting to get sick when I came over to try to make amends for our friend group. We were the ones who held it together. This was house I loved so much. The Lansing House. The house with the wooden back porch and cascading garden. The house where I did my homework and painted. The house where I made dinners and hand late night drinks. The house I snuggled up in when I needed to work down the street the next day.

I didn't want to disappoint him. I wanted to be friends again. I missed him. I missed him so much. But, not this much.

This was the living room I sat in with my feet up against the fireplace after sledding with my friends, socks soaked. The living room we all hung out in to sing along to Radical Face with acoustic guitars. The living room floor for board games and dance parties. The living room with the comfiest seats to read in. 

I had just wanted to talk. We sat in his finished basement as we talked and laughed again, but my stomach couldn't hold the wine. I threw up my dinner and drink. He walked me to the living room couch. He gave me water. He covered me in a blanket. He sat next to me and we talked some more.

We were going to be best friends again. We were going to sit on this couch and laugh far into night surrounded by all the ones we loved. We were going to sing and dance right here as we had many times before.

There were going to be no more fights.

He kissed me. I didn't ask him to do that.

He kept kissing, even when I tried to push him off.

I was so tired. I was so weak. I asked nicely.

His hand pulled down my clothes. His legs held mine from escaping. His arms pinned me to the couch. His body crushing me into the crux of it so I couldn't wiggle out from beneath. 

My head was spinning. The world no longer changed. I was stuck here. Stuck here to relive his advances over and over for eternity. 

I would feel his body inside of mine forever. Never escaping. Always stuck on this couch, drunk, sick, and

"Abigail."

I turned from the hot breath. A new face. A face I knew. A pale chest behind an embroidered jacket. A crown of curled silver hair. Red eyes that looked like wine. Delicately pointed ears that seemed to stick out. A look of sadness and anger. The face of the one who had both saved my life and tried to take it. The one who bore the scars of a slave. The one who said he would catch me if I fell. He was here to break the curse of my ugliest memories.

"New memory," the face demanded.

I looked back into the hot face of the one I hated the most. 

The world spun again, finally. Astarion looked around at the woods, confused. I watched him look down in horror and surprise at the large round hole in the ground, the mangled body of the one I hated at the bottom among the roots, soil, and leaves.

"What is this?" he asked.

A soft, but wicked smile filled my face. "It was a dream I will never forget. It was the night I realized I had the strength to overcome him. The night I realized I truly hated him." I looked over at Astarion. "The night I realized I could kill someone and feel no remorse."

"Did you kill him?"

I looked back down at the mangled body, all awkward long limbs and dark hair. "Unfortunately, no. America's not Faerun. I can't kill someone and stuff a body into a giant hole, left to be eaten by random monsters, no one the wiser." I turned to Astarion, "Most people are actually looked for and missed, where I'm from."

He watched me a moment, "Lucky you."

I glanced back down the hole, "Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it."

His eyes met mine again, "Lucky for him, then."

The world morphed once more. This time into the living room at the my house back on Earth. Late morning light filtered through the windows. 

Astarion glanced around, "Where are we now?"

"This is my house, come on in."

"Thanks," He sassed, then took a slow full turn, taking it in. "It's... comforting. I can see you very at home here."

"What happens if you get into a house you weren't invited into?" I asked.

His brow knit, "I don't."

I tipped my head, "What if this wasn't in my head and I portalled us here?"

His mouth opened and shut as he considered, "I don't actually know the answer to that. But, it sounds like it would result in something painful..." A corner of his mouth ticked up, "Oh, to see Cazador portalled somewhere he was uninvited."

I watched him picture it, wishing I could too. Cazador seemed like a little bitch. Small taps sounded around the corner and a small brown dog tottered up to us, interrupting.

"Your mutt I take it?" Astarion said, pointing down at the animal.

"She's a purebred. Show her some respect."

He huffed, but smirked, "She is quite cute. The large ears and stubby tail are surprisingly aesthetic. I'm not usually one to pet dogs, but she might be the exception."

"She's always the exception," I teased as I watched him lean down and scratch between my dog's ears, her small tailless body wiggling with joy.

I sat down on the large green couch that faced the brick fireplace, my dog hopping up next to me. She was just a conjured memory, but I pulled her into a cuddle either way. I missed her so dearly. I looked up at Astarion who was now taking a seat on the opposite end. 

"This is quite comfortable as well. You have good taste," he said, casually drawing his fingers on the couch arm.

Another green couch, squished against the back pillows, couldn't escape...

All of a sudden, he leaned toward me. "Don't," he commanded harshly, eyes watching me carefully. 

I pulled back, "What?"

"You started to think of something. I could feel it."

I watched him as he watched me. "How can I go from thinking of the absolute worst things that happened to me to this?" I waved to the room around us with my hand, "And how do some of my memories show up as something to watch, but others I experience all over again?" I watched the memory echo of my dog hop off the couch, disappearing.

He crossed an ankle over his knee, placing his spare hand on his lifted one as he stared down at the coffee table, "The ones that you can see and interact with are ones you aren't afraid of. The others are like nightmares. You can't direct where they go because they are controlled by fear and instinct." He looked to me, "Though, I've never experienced one's dreams as memories. That was... different." He sighed as he looked around the room, "I may have underestimated you." He glanced to me, "The fact that my own memories and thoughts haven't overpowered yours..." He signaled to the room, "That we are sitting in your living room at all instead of some kind of neutral place or even the palace..." He pursed his lips, then looked to me again, something lighting behind his eyes. "I have a confession."

My brows pinched as I watched him.

He sucked in a deep breath, "I have..." He tipped his head, looking up at the ceiling, smiling bashfully to himself. "Goodness, how do I even admit this." He swiveled a little in his seat to face me. He cleared his throat. "Since we are likely to be stuck together for the foreseeable future, whether days or months, I will let you in on a little secret."

I smirked, "This should be good."

He mocked an irritated look, "Keep that up and I will rescind this confession."

I held up my hands, smirking, "Sorry, please, continue. I promise to listen."

He coughed a little again, "I practice lines before I use them on..." He paused, the humor dropping from his face. "I used them on victims." He sighed, "Actually, that's not as funny as I thought it would be."

I folded my hands tightly. "The ones for Cazador."

He nodded. The room morphed a little. I focused harder. It fixed. "Gosh you are hard to keep out. I felt that."

He laughed, pitifully. "Sorry, I was attempting to be as factual as possible. If we pop into the palace, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, "You saw some of the worst nights of my life. You get a pass."

"Thank you."

I grinned. "Why don't you try again?"

He smiled softly, looking down at his own hands, then back to me, his features growing in confidence. "I practice the lines I use before I use them. We all did. The other spawn and I. We tested them out on each other, gave one another tips. One of my favorites was a hollow one, and I will admit to having already used it on Durge."

I perked a brow.

"It didn't work. If that's what you're wondering."

I smirked a little.

"Very rarely do I ever find reason to use said lines in earnest, but I will make an exception now. I truly do mean this when I say I'm not easily impressed by people, but you're stronger than I gave you credit for."

We both just sat and stared at each other for a minute letting his confession and compliments marinate.

I smiled. “Ditto."

[Astarion Note: I do very much wish you had let me hunt him down, darling. He would have made such a beautiful corpse in a hole, here in Faerun. His blood probably wouldn't have tasted very good, but it would be deserved after what he took from you.]

Jenevelle POV:

Gale and Lae’zel were bickering again. Gale wanted to avoid Moonhaven, Lae’zel wanted to use it. She was thoroughly confident in her abilities to take out a village full of goblins. Since the rest of us were not, we went around trying to retrace our steps. Lae’zel wanted to cross the bridge, but Gale insisted we retrace our steps exactly, forgoing the bridge as we headed back toward the Owlbear cave and where we had found the dog whom had yet to show up despite my encouragements.

Though, as night fell and my conjured fire the only torch between us, Scratch, the dog, did show up. With an arm of a gnoll in his maw.

He dropped it at our feet and barked, trotting off, expecting us to follow. Despite Lae'zel's objections, we followed him. He led us through the darkness to a light on a hill: a toll house. Bodies of gnolls and people lined the pathway and bridge that led up to it. It didn't look promising.

Inside, we found four paladins in a state of disarray. They were beaten badly and one seemed to be near death with a huge gash to his abdomen. 

"Who... Who goes there?" One asked as we entered.

Durge stepped forward, hands in surrender. "We're just looking for a place to rest. We're trying to get back to the grove nearby."

The man nodded, "Then feel free to rest your heads. There are some supplies in the basement below. I will warn you we found one of the toll men below. He's..." The man's face went distant.

Durge nodded, "I understand."

I stepped from around him toward the injured resting on a bedroll. "Is there any way we can help? I'm a cleric, I could take a look at your friend."

A small light rose behind his eyes, "Oh, that would be most kind. I'm Anders, by the way. Please, we were attacked by a fiend. A one-horned tiefling named Karlach. She's... She's going to tear apart the Sword Coast." 

"Karlach?" Wyll interjected.

The man nodded. 

It was as if Wyll had been woken from a haze, "Where is she? Where has she gone?"

Anders tipped his head curiously. "She ran down toward the water the last we saw before the sun fell behind the cliffs. She's unlikely to have gotten far, since she was injured."

Wyll whipped to us, "She was the one I was pursuing before the Nautiloid, the fiend I was sent to kill. I need to find her, now."

Gale sighed, "Can't we continue this in the morning? It's doubtful she will get far, and there's no telling if she's even still alive. She may have succumbed to her injuries."

"Unlikely," Anders added. "She's Zariel's sword hand. Fiends like that don't go down easy."

Wyll held out his arm, making his point. "We need to act now. If you wish to stay, be my guest, but I need to finish what I started." He marched to the doorway.

I called to him. "Hold on, Wyll. We don't know what we are up against. Let me see to their injured, then we can go find this Karlach."

He huffed and crossed his arms, visibly impatient, but nodded anyway.

After a few minutes of examining the man and assessing the supplies the paladins had on hand for healing, I came to the grim conclusion that he was not long for this world. All I could do was make him comfortable. I let his companions know and they moved him into a separate room to convalesce for his final hours. 

I wiped my bloody hands on a rag as I made my way to the front doors where everyone else was waiting. They all asked the question with their eyes, I shook my head in return, and we stepped out with a few new torches and weapons in hand.

It was very easy to find Karlach. She was a living campfire posted to the side of the stream, attempting to cool herself off. 

"That's Karlach?" Gale asked.

Wyll was in a different state as he watched her. A righteous bloodlust burned in him as he marched across the fallen log to meet his intended foe. 

The heat pouring off of her was like standing before a raging furnace. Wyll was already sweating in the cool night. The drips on his face illuminated by his torch and Karlach's glow. "Karlach, Advocatis diaboli."

She let out a raspy chuckle, "The Blade of Frontiers. I thought I'd shaken you for good." She hissed and the flames around her burst and crackled.

As if excited by all the activity, our tadpoles connected once again. A throb pounded behind my eyes as a vision took form. It was Karlach as she fought through the front lines of the Blood War. It was as horrific and bloody as all the stories depicted. The vision disappeared as quickly as it came.

"What was that?!" she exclaimed, getting her balance. I watched her stand on long red legs, leaning on the hilt of a large axe. She was a sight to behold. Black and red hair wild with beading. Tattoos and heat holes littered along her mottled red skin. Her bright orange glowing eyes begged us to help her.

"Proof that you're just another gladiator in Zariel's army!" Wyll exclaimed. 

Fear raged behind her fire orange eyes as she took in Wyll's fighting stance. "If you could just hear me out..."

Another pang of pain stabbed through my head as an image of Karlach escaping and slicing through Zariel's servants filled it. The echoes of pain cleared as the images did. I was so tired of the weird mind connections. Though short-lived, they were nearly as painful as my hand wound.

"She's just another victim of the Blood War," Gale said from behind Wyll, as he watched Karlach with empathy. Her flames were starting to die down a little.

Wyll snapped around to him, "Don't believe her lies."

Karlach took a step toward us, hands high, begging. "You saw the truth. I was enlisted against my will. Forced to fight, and I did. When I saw my opportunity to run, I took it. And I'm finally home."

The desperation and fear made me want to throw Wyll into the stream and pull Karlach into a hug. To be forced to fight in the Blood Wars was a nightmare, yet she stood here having gotten out. I watched her hiss as she gripped her left side, probably the injury. Her heart glowed with inner fire as the heat picked up again.

"You served. That's enough to damn you," Wyll hissed.

I watched a large white hand reach past me as Durge placed it on Wyll's shoulder. "Be practical, Wyll. She's infected, same as us. We could use her as an ally."

"She is a warrior who would wink at her foes as she slays them. You would be best not to refuse her," Lae'zel added from the back.

Gale leaned in, "She might be a little rough around the edges, but I can be smooth enough for two."

I reached out and pushed Gale off of the log, a splash following his, "Hey!" when he hit the water. 

Wyll flashed around at us, "You're asking me to trust a devil."

"Gods, you're so stubborn," I started.

"And young," added Gale from his spot in the stream.

"Karlach is no devil and you know this," Lae'zel argued.

Karlach cleared her throat and Wyll turned to face her again. "You know monsters," Her glowing eyes flashed between his. "Look into my eyes. I'm not what you think."

"Shit," Wyll spat, rubbing his palms over his face. "I've... I've been deceived."

All of us gave audible sighs. 

"Thank the gods, I thought I was going to have to take your head," Karlach laughed.

Wyll sighed through his nose, but grinned softly back at Karlach, "You would have died in the attempt."

Our new fiery companion laughed in earnest.

Wyll shook his head. "Don't laugh too soon. A reckoning is coming and I'll be the one to pay up."

"Warlocks," Gale whispered a little too loudly. Wyll shot him a look to the back of his head as Gale pulled himself out of the stream, trying to wring out his robes.

We led Karlach across, but stopped short, realizing the group back at the toll house was waiting to kill her.

"Uhm," Karlach said, breaking the silence, "So, now that we're all pals, how about helping me smite some evil bastards?"

Durge chuckled. 

Wyll shook his head, "Let me guess, the paladins up at the toll house? Karlach, you just swore to us you were not a danger."

She sighed, "But, they're not really paladins of Tyr. They're goons sent by Zariel to take me back."

Wyll ground his jaw, "I'm choosing to trust you despite what I'm going to have to pay for it. Don't make me regret it."

Karlach watched him for a moment. "I won't," she said quietly. Then she smiled viciously, "Let's go kill some slimy bastards."

I stepped in front of her, hands out. She stopped short and looked me up, "Yes?"

"I need to heal you, then we can take on the bastards, as you say," I smiled teasingly. She smiled back, a gorgeous feature. She held her hands over her head and I cast a minor healing spell. The blue of my magic glittered against her glowing red skin. 

"Gods, that felt amazing. Stick by me, please." She winked, I fawned. I knew in that moment, I'd follow her into any battle.

We marched back into the toll house's entry where Anders and another paladin were waiting. 

"Karlach?" He looked shocked, but not afraid. It was odd considering how terrified he had seemed earlier. 

"Hello, motherfucker. Ready to die?" she sang. 

I automatically rubbed my legs together as a tight feeling shot between them. I noticed Lae'zel smiling broadly in my peripheral. I heard Durge hum deeply. Looks like we weren't so much a group apart. 

A nasty grin grew up Anders face. The jig was up. "Even if I have to ship you back in pieces, Zariel will always get what she wants. Her mutt back on its leash."

I was standing several feet back and felt the room heat as if someone had opened an oven door part way through a bake. 

"Well, that is just too bad because I'm free now." She pulled up her axe, gripping it tightly, ready to strike. "And I'm never going back."

Needless to say, we laid the other 'paladins' to rest alongside their companion. 

[Gale note: Though this is an articulate rendition of events, I would surmise that my excerpt would have been a far better choice. No matter, Shadowheart Jenevelle had a distinctly unique experience as she pushed me into the water. Good thing standing next to Karlach, at the time, made for swift drying. I sent you a detailed copy of the completed journey and would appreciate an insert. I hope you are simply holding out for some of my own particular perspectives to be used for certain singular circumstances. If you want a list of suggestions, just let me know.]

To Gale: This story was four chapters long in your third book. Find me some briefer examples and I will consider your request. - Abbi

[Wyll note: I would have loved to write meeting Karlach. We are just so busy here in Avernus. Thank you for writing down all of our adventures.]

IRL Author's Note: This was supposed to be a funny chapter. Instead, it was healing. The next will be as well. Sometimes we can't always control where our stories go, and that is what makes them so important. Please note that these are in fact my own memories (with some narrative adjustments). I'm still here and you should be too. What happened doesn't define who you are, but it does shape you. You aren't broken, you are in transition. You are being remade. You are loved. You are seen. You are so enough. For all those who need it, there is no shame in finding help. Speaking it makes it real. Sexual Abuse Hotline (US): 800.656.4673 National Domestic Abuse Hotline (US): 800.799.7233 Suicide Hotline (US): 988 (text or call) Also, the Cavalier is real and is in Lynchburg, VA. It has the very best potato wedges and ranch. No, you can't change my mind.

[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.