#I can tell I have over 6 cavities
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Damn I really need to see a dentist
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Tomura Shigaraki 's abuse and neglect under All for One
I've decided to make this post due to the fact AFO's abuse towards Tomura is often ignored and even denied, so I'll be bringing a collection of scenes that prove he was being severally neglected during the 15 years he lived with AFO
1- Malnourishment and Underweight
At the beginning of the story Tomura used to be very skinny, his spine visible, very accentuated collar bones.
We can't see if his ribcages are exposed too since he's always dressed, but we can tell he is abnormally skinny and thin.
Some theorize AFO's purposefully keeps him in this state so he's more weak and frail similar to Yoichi. Or so it adds to his tiredness and numbness.
He's also been shown randomly struggling before (it could've been the aftershock of Stain attack, i don't know)
2- Lack of hygiene
He literally lives in pure filth, trash bags, old soda cans, paper, boxes, packages of food that seems ordered other than homemade, it lingers all over his floor, he is clearly a hoarder
It's completely different of the kept and clean bar, and now before you say "That's Tomura's responsibility, he's an adult he should clean it himself!" just think for a minute, if you had a son, that you see as your heir, and bets on their future so much,If you truly cared about them and saw they felt into a hoarder mindset, wouldn't you at least help?
Why not even Kurogiri cleans if Tomura was being cared by him? This clearly is intentional neglect, specially to keep his mood constantly down.
3 - His teeth
Tomura canonically has crooked teeth (compare his teeth to the other's in the jump festa art), cavities or at least what looks like plaques or dirt all over his teeth.
For someone raised by someone as filthy rich as AFO, he should've had access to dental care
4- Shaggy hair
His hair looks un-brushed, shaggy and dirty, which had no reason for before MVA when he became homeless, so why even at the start? How long has he taken a bath or a shower?
Look at the blatant difference in this scene after he showered at the PLF mansion
5- Unkept, ragged and broken nails
despite his hands also being very skinny, his nails are also all rough and broken Now, I know Tomura isn't a kid to have someone cut his nails for him, but this implies he was never teached how to take care for himself.
Besides of course his clear symptoms of depression and suicidal idealism, which, are very obvious, All for One IS neglecting Tomura by keeping him in that state /knowing/ he isn't being capable of taking care of himself.
6- His bedroom
First of all: No windows
Second, notice how empty it used to be, he had nothing but a bed and a desk, but right as he committed his first murder he started to receive toys, AFO is lovebombing and manipulating him to kill more
7- The obvious neglect to his pain
Notice how every time Tomura panics or is even wounded, he is just ignored and left on the floor bleeding out, puking or writhing.
Which uh- it isn't normal to watch your kid writhe in the floor while smiling and monologuing
8- 24/7 Surveillance and lack of privacy
There are cameras everywhere, AFO spends most of the time watching Tomura, even in his own bedroom, and even talks to him, Tomura probably hasn't had any privacy ever since he was 5
Which is a sign of abuse and control
His entire childhood from 5 to 20 is often relatable for people who grew in cult like environments, and homeschooled children who grew under controlling parents, despite the abuse not being as "obvious" since AFO never directly physically hurt him, the neglect and psychological torture is still there, that and more all the manipulation, gaslighting and grooming (think of Mother Gothel from Tangled as an example of this type of abuser)
By the way, talking about it
9- Gaslighting
"but wasn't /you/ who desired my power?"
The entire body possession plot is a clear evidence AFO never saw Tomura as anything other than a toy to play with, the same way he saw Yoichi, but so many people say the possession was a retcon because "early afo cleared saw him as his heir, he even said it's all for him!"
Well, argue with the literal "he's the next me", while he is.... weirdly caressing the screen while he watches his kid with no privacy- 100% creep behavior
10- AFO's bizzare behavior towards Tomura
The way All for One's hands are often shown caressing him or encasing him somehow, which yeah, it's part of the symbology of Tomura's character (hands that can both hurt and save)
But knowing AFO represents /hurt/ and, you know, i'ts kinda weird to caress the kid you kidnaped off the streets like that-
Cuz yes! Picking kids from the street even if they are orphan is illegal!! You should take them to a police station instead :D
Tomura was KIDNAPED by AFO, not saved.
11- Proof Tomura doesn't /feel/ saved
During his fight against Bakugou, when he sees him being helped, besides being "broken" he starts to spiral on "why no one saved me even before i was broken?"
The visual including the granny that ignored him on the streets
AFO broke him.
He recurrently thinks back to when he was on the streets, even though he was already traumatized, and had already killed his family, he still had /hope/ he ADMITS he believes he could've been different if it wasn't for AFO
If AFO had truly saved him,he wouldn't think like this
12- AFO gifting Tomura the corpses of his family to intentionally keep him nauseated, uncomfortable and traumatized, so he never heals
Besides their weird placements- On a kid. the gangster's hands being in his chest...
13-AFO's intentional desire for Tomura's discomfort
If this entire thread didn't make it obvious already, All for One benefits of Tomura's tiredness, ill feelings, nausea, depression and suicidal mindset, and over all physical and psychological discomfort
This ensures he's submissive to his manipulations and orders, keep him feeling hatred and anger due to constant overwhelming feelings and makes it harder for him to think of why AFO does all of it at all.
I could go even deeper than this about it, but i've reached thread limit and am lazy, so I hope you enjoyed this thread!
Thank you for reading
#shigaraki tomura#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#tomura shigaraki#shigaraki#deku#izuku midoriya#all for one#afo#mha manga
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I'd Give All Have, Honey If You Could Stay Like That, Oh, Darling Don't You Ever Grow Up
pairing [s] : bob floyd x reader
warning [s] : call your dentist as soon as possible! the sweet fluff is giving you cavities!
a/n [s] : requests are open! the pictures do not show what your daughters might look like.
Robert was a girl dad. If anyone has dared to try and make fun of him for being head over heels for his daughters and wife, call the ambulance. Jake pushed his buttons by calling him Baby on Board, but Hangman knew to never make fun of him about his daughters. You loved the way he could never say no to his daughters flapping eyelashes and pretty eyes blinking at him. It was sometimes annoying for how much candy your babies could assume if their daddy was taking care of them for a day.
Currently, Bob was holding his daughter Tessa in his arms, slowly running his hands down her hair. She was almost asleep, eyes attempting to stay open. Tessa was slumped against your husband's chest, drool slowly falling out of her mouth when she finally sleeps. Eventually Sophia, Tessa’s sister, clomps over to Bob, hands going up to try and grab her Daddy.
“Hey babygirl.. did you have fun with Uncle Mickey?” Bob's voice is calm and soft as he picks his daughter up in his other arm and pulls her up. Sophia wraps around her dad's arms, laying on his shoulder. You're sipping a soda while you scroll on your phone. “Mm.. daddy wanna go home. Sleepy.” It's only 6:30 but he swears his girls got your sleeping gene. You're almost asleep too as you lay against his shoulder. He's surprised you're even getting sleepy whenever Jake goes to turn another song on the jukebox.
“Hey, babe, Soph’ is getting sleepy and Tess is asleep. You think it's time to head out?” Bob says to you while he attempts to not wake up Tessa. “Yeah I think so. The girls have been up since six-thirty. And Mama needs her husband alone tonight.” He laughs gently as you pick up your bag and stand up. Your hand runs against Tessa’s soft curls and you kiss Bob softly. His cheeks turn a dusty pink. Even after fourteen years of marriage, he still gets flustered by you. You smile at him and pick up Sophia. She lets out a small whine before she relaxes in your arms.
The team gives you all hugs as you say goodbye to everyone. Sophia waves tiredly at Fanboy and Phoenix. You walk out the door and Bob follows behind you, holding the door open for you. You're walking to your car before Bob runs in front of you and opens the door for you, hand touching your lower back. “I’ll put the girls in their seats, love.” You kiss his lips and he smirks at you. He hands you the keys and you start the car with them.
You can hear him in the backseat buckling in Tessa and she starts to almost cry before he kisses her softly. Bob had a hidden voice he would never share, the soft voice from his choir days in highschool. You hear the relaxing Taylor Swift song that Bob held you to during the Speak Now tour in 2011. You remember telling him after the concert that you would dream about your kids with him during that song.
Now, your dream came true. Bob had kept his promise and whenever Tessa was born, he held her in his arms and sang just that song. It became tradition in your daughters’ lives to hear that song from their dad. It felt like you were in college again, in the back of Bobby’s best up Chevy staring at the stars talking about your future. The only thing you were sure of was Bobby would always be written in your stars.
Bob jumped into the truck, putting the windows down to let in the warm summer night. He flips the radio on, a random country station playing soft music. His hand falls to your thigh, thumb going under the rips in your jeans. “Y'know,” Bob begins, his head turns, looking at you and back at the road. “Jake said he could take the girls this weekend. His nieces are coming over. I thought we could go to the city for the weekend. Drink and go crazy, like we did before the girls.”
You laugh gently and nod at him. “Yeah sure. I missed those times if I had to be honest. I miss the mullet you had in highschool, and I missed when you held me in your arms that summer night when Daniel Carrigan said you sucked at football and you almost cried.” He pinches your thigh and laughs. “I still can't believe he said that.”
“Tess has gotten so big recently. I was scrolling through the pictures on my phone and I saw her when she was a little baby on her first day of school.” You show him the picture and you see the way he is for a moment. “I wish I could keep her like that forever. She was such a little baby.” Bob tells you and smiles at the photos of her dancing around in her little dresses.
He taps your thigh with his hand and grips the wheel. You know he's sensitive about his girls growing up and it's something so bittersweet; growing up. You've grown up with Bob, and you watch him watch his girls grow up. You remember telling him one day about how you were scared about growing up and what the future held. He only told you one thing,
“Whatever the future might hold, you can remember I'll always be there.”
That's whenever you knew you would be with him forever. The funky glasses he wore and his long hairstyle. He was stuck with you and you were stuck with him.
#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob top gun#bob x reader#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#robert floyd x y/n#robert bob floyd x reader#top gun maverick#top gun fluff#bob floyd fluff#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x y/n#dad!bob floyd
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Dropping some silly Shuggy content bc it's how I cope-
Shanks was found as a baby in a treasure chest. Buggy was semi-force-adopted off the streets at about 6/7. Roger really just went "Anyone gonna parent these kids" and was already signing pretend adoption papers furiously before anyone could so much as breathe.
The Roger crew tried to teach the boys school-like things, but Shanks HATED it while Buggy was just gobbling itt up like a dehydrated horse in a desert oasis.
Buggy LOVED reading (and still does in the present), but he has a soft spot for fantasy stories and fiction. He worries the others would make fun of him for it, but Shanks is Not Having That. He offers to be the one to ask for those books on the condition that Buggy read to him before bed. He acts put out and huffy about it, but Shanks can see him blushing every time he snuggles closer or asks a question.
Roger knows damn well about the truth bc he too sometimes joined story time. Buggy has that Performer Energy down to a SCIENCE.
It gets out eventually, and the crew tries to tease Buggy for it ((even though they didn't tease Shanks, and the redhead Will Remember That)). The guys ask if Buggy likes them bc he wants to be a princess, to which Shanks goes surprisingly nuclear, going on about how if Buggy was ANYONE'S princess, he'd be HIS because the princesses are smart, brave, strong and beautiful, and their knights need someone to be the brains and drive. Buggy is the brains and Shanks is his knight. Pirate princess and pirate knight!!
A few hours later, once he has successfully calmed Buggy down and Captain has punished everyone for bullying his kids, Shanks has the BRILLIANT idea of getting "married".
"Princesses can be flashy, but the warrior queen from the last book was SO COOL and I think you'd make a better queen than a princess because queens are SUPER SMART and lovely and strong and just like you!"
"You think so...?"
"Mmhm! So we just gotta make you a queen! How do princesses become queens?"
"Don't they get married?"
"Oh yeah! Then let's be married! That way you can be MY queen and I'll be YOUR king!"
They sneak into the treasury, looking for rings. There are none - at least, none that would fit. ((Shanks stole one for Buggy when they get bigger)). So they decide to do the next best thing!
They drag Roger onto the next island, make rings out of dandelions, have him officiate, and marry each other with flower rings so they're king and queen now. Then they make a wish on the dandelions.
They consider it their Real Marriage. It was officiated and everything, and they still refer to each other as Husbands ((or Wife when Buggy's feeling more femme)), and everyone is absolutely flabbergasted when it comes up in conversation.
Shanks lost his band when he gave his arm up for Luffy, but Buggy sent an 'anonymous' gift with a replacement. He wears it on a necklace now.
Buggy wears his ring on a necklace as well, or sewn into the inside of his hat or in a jewelry box he keeps under lock and key, depending on the day.
The breakup they had post-execution was smoothed over, they have an open marriage, and they still love one another in the sweetest, most cavity inducing way imaginable.
((PS, Luffy, once crowned King, mentions to Shanks that he was the closest he had to a dad. While Shanks I'd emotional, Luffy grins at Buggy and goes "so should I call you mom or dad?"))
Shooting me would've been less painful than reading this because now I am sobbing crying and shaking on the floor and I will never forget this. The whole concept about Buggy loving to read and Shanks doing it for him always makes me go insane, but the crew making fun of Buggy and Shanks protecting him without hesitating? Not even once? And telling him that they should get married? Okay. Wow. Okay. I need a second. Because this is just,,, So sweet. And Roger and Rayleigh would literally die when they told them about the idea. Like they would probably have a tiny heart attack from how cute these kids are. Rayleigh would probably go "Isn't it a bit too soon? Think about it first you idiots-" but Roger is already planning everything because his impulsive romantic ass can't wait for his kids to get married lmfao. Also, non-binary/genderfluid Buggy my beloved because me too, Buggy, me too.
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okay im doing a gojo version to this ask i got this morning bc my darling @satocidal wanted a gojo ver too so im making it happen <333
okay so i will project on this a lot bc he is an entp and im an entp and my bae @satocidal is also an entp so ik how we are so this is like Christmas LMFAO okay lets GAURRRRR
this man will deffo become even crazier when you come in his life bc you are just like him and it encourages his behavior by a LOT!!! you guys wreck havoc on school grounds its such a headache for yaga and omg dont even ask utahime abt her blood pressure levels
i feel like utahime first tried to warn you abt gojo when u came to the school (she was in the tokyo school for those every 6 months meeting she has) and she had been there with yaga while you gave ur interview and you looked so calm and serene and she fell for the facade u had created and when she had told u abt gojo it made u excited instead of deterring you
and yeah when she came back again she was in for a shock seeing you and gojo bond together bc "WAS ONE GOJO NOT ENOUGH??? NOW THERE ARE TWO OH GOD WHY U TEST ME" shoko has to come sweep her to her clinic to get her blood pressure pills
okay this dynamic is like big brother. like with nanami it was like dad daughter this ones big brother and younger sister dynamic
i can imagine this man will deffo listen to hit kpop songs with you which you introduced to him!!! his favourites would be boy groups!! like skz and nct and exo for sure
(am i projecting my kpop addiction on him? yes yes i am) he will deffo be delulu with u when u tell him abt ur bias or when u send him compilations of ur fav group being funny he will deffo watch it with u and like this may reach to a point that he will send you a link to the newest variety show of ur fav group before u can get to it
i have a sweet tooth so like imagine his delight when he finds that out IWNDKDKDK he will make u try all of his favorite sweet treats <333 i feel like he will buy like an expensive chocolate to try for shits and giggles to share with u and it ends up being so delicious that now u both are stuck buying it over and over and yeah....one of you is bound to have a cavity or two
he tried to pull pranks on u like he did with yuji but its like karma has come to bite him in the ass for all the times he roped poor yuji into his pranks at his expense bc u dont fall for him bc u are smarter than him in this department (dont tell gojo u said that he will deffo pout)
u often bond with toge over plans on how to prank gojo and u even get nanami's help in these bc he will take any chance he can get to get back at that paint brush looking —
even doe sometimes its hard to tell who is the adult of this dynamic since he gets even crazier with u under his wing bc u get him but this does not mean he neglects his teacher duties
he will deffo come to save ur ass when u are dangling by ur foot by a giant curse bc u allowed it a break of a few seconds but that doesnt mean he will shut up abt it. if u climb on him and flick on his forehead he will be shocked bc w-what???? he thought he was ur fav???? how could you? but he deserves it sometimes and he knows that and he lets you
u are megumi's fav doe bc u put gojo in his place when he teases the boy too much. yeah its like you have two brothers <333
i can imagine him getting you and him kicked out bc he was making funny faces behind yaga during the meeting he dragged u along with him with the higher ups bc he gets bored and his way of beating that boredom is to make faces at u which always without a fail makes you laugh and before u can stop it u have all the eyes on you and ur beetroot face in return rips out a laughter from him and yeah <3 this happens often <3 its a strategy he secretly applies to avoid these meetings bc he hates them
OH im indulging in these so hard but like when he sees u with different types of braids u do on urself when u come to training he's always so fascinated with them and he insists that you braid his hair too and if u complain abt his hair being too short to grip he will threaten to cut off ur monthly supply of chocolates that u love oh so much and yeah it does the trick lmfao this may be a lil sad but its bc it reminds him of the times geto used to braid his hair for him and he never got to experience that again bc he had to do it for tsumiki and well tsumiki couldnt do her own how would she do it for gojo yk?
he will proudly flaunt the braids whenever u do them for him!! its always a hassle for u doe bc his hair is so damn silky but u keep ur mouth shut bc he may stop his money flow for ur chocolate and u dont wanna take no chances
oh also omg imagine introducing tiktoks to this manchild?????? yeahhh its hell on earth if u do esp for nanami omggg he is gonna eat his brain by constantly asking nanami to make tiktoks with him KSKDKDKDK yuji would indulge him doe lmfao and megumi oh he's making a run for it he heard the rumors he's not gonna risk it lol this is reminding of those fortnite dances that were all over tiktok when gojo and yuji skins were introduced LOL
a/n: this thing is such an indulgent piece of shit but i love it so whatever <3
#jjk#satoru fluff#jjk yuji itadori#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader#kento nanami fluff#yuji itadori fluff#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk utahime#shoko ieiri#utahime iori
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"An Odd Little Thing" (Pt. 6)
Masterpost:
She had expected resistance. A twitch, a flinch, the pre-recorded “Don’t!” Or “P-p-please…”. She had even prepared herself to hear the static start up again, for its robotic sobs to once again fill the workshop.
What she hadn’t been expecting was for the android to start shrieking like a banshee
She almost dropped the screwdriver in shock. “What? What is it?”
It screamed with enough force to peak its voice box: “HURTS!”
“Hurts?” A chill ran down her spine. “What do you mean, hurts?”
“Pain.” The robot repeated. “Please, please… hurts.”
“They programmed you to feel pain?”
“...Hurts…”
She picked up the ad and began to scan it intently. Sure enough there it was, advertised like a desirable feature. “Simulated pain responses will alert you of system malfunction!”
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…” She turned to face the robot. “OK. So do you want to stay powered on or not?”
“Stay…” was the replying whimper. “As long as possible…p-p-please…”
…Fine. She crossed the room and stuffed in her ear protectors. “I’ll try to be careful.”
She kept a hand down on its chest as she unscrewed the stomach cavity open. Not that it was necessary, the robot was hardly in any shape to run away with its rusted joints. “Alright, if you can tell me where the pain is, I can..”
The words were lost in her mouth as the final screw loosed and the innards were revealed.
How…
How on earth was anything about him working properly?!
It wasn’t just that the gears weren’t meshing right, or that a few wires were loose. Everything was out of place, pushed to the side, warped out of place, or just straight up gone, missing, tossed aside for…
She readied her tweezers and began to extract the most notable outliers. Marbles, bits of paper, medicine pills, hair bands, candy. She tugged at a plastic necklace caught on a gear and accidentally snapped it, resulting in her having to fish for every subsequent bead that spilled. All the while, the robot sobbed, in a quiet yet steady stream of static.
She paused every so often to ask:
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.”
“Do you want to be turned off?”
“Don’t!”
“What happened to you?”
Silence.
Fine with her. If the android didn’t want to talk, she could guess for herself. It was pretty obvious anyways; some snot-nosed brat had clearly gotten into the mechanisms and had never been told “no.” She shouldn’t even be surprised. It made perfect sense that whoever could afford this model was also rich enough to not bother taking care of it.
“Hurts…” The robot whimpered as she struggled to pull out a wadded-up sock.
“I know.” She paused to give him a break. “Does it hurt more or less now, at least?”
“...L-less…”
Good. So she’d done something right. Once she’d cleared out all the junk she could see, she could move on to diagnostics. The optics and the voice box would have to be replaced, that was for certain, but as for anything else…
She used the magazine scrap for reference. It was tedious work, categorizing every single part, judging its quality, then either scrounging for replacements, or conceding to search for it on a later scavenging trip. Hours ticked on by, as her neck began to ache, and sweat began to drip down her face. If there was nothing to gain from it, she probably would have given up. In fact, she was about to, but then…
…Her eyes caught onto a glint of something shining.
Her tweezers were in her hand in a flash, and before she knew it, she had pulled out a dirty, greasy, but still perfectly solid coin. Solid gold, too. Her fist clenched around it. This was worth three days’ of work, just like that. Three days… and it had been used for nothing more than to cause a small robot pain.
“Hey.” She mentioned, trying to sound casual. “Where’s the hurt coming from?”
“All…all over.”
“OK… so just choose a specific spot.”
The robot paused, its servos whirring. She could only hope that she hadn’t accidentally asked anything too complicated.
“D-down left…”
And from then on, she followed his prompting. Down left, right, near his voice box, by his arms. Sometimes it was trash, or useless trinkets, or some other garbage, (the worst part came when she was forced to individually clean every gear from the handful of sand thrown in carelessly who knew how long ago.). But others, and far less rarely than she’d believed, there was treasure. A pair of jeweled earrings she could trade at a pawnshop. A silver ring worth more than everything in her toolbox combined. And coins… so many coins, lodged into every single nook and cranny they could possibly fit. Copper and silver, as well as gold. But what did it matter? By the end of it all, she had enough to fill her hand. It was more than she’d ever held in her life… and all of it was in thanks to the little robot squirming on her table. The one who still flinched whenever she drew near, and squeaked in abject terror whenever she picked up a tool that looked slightly sharp. It had given her so much…
And she could hardly spare a proper blanket.
****************
“Does it hurt anymore?”
“No.”
He could hardly believe it, even as his voice box scraped out the word. No. No. Nothing hurt. His systems weren’t constantly reporting malfunctions. No alerts. No notifications. No mechanisms awkwardly scraping or desperately trying to stay in place against all the medicine that was supposed to help.
“No.” He repeated, this time as a cheer. A celebration. There was no hurt. No hurt. No hurt.
“Great. Looks like I’m done then.”
Done?
It couldn’t be. It had to be a lie. But no, he could feel his plating getting screwed back in. Just like that.
“Wait!”
The screwdriver paused. “What is it?
Why am I not getting scrapped? Why is there no new medicine?
“...That’s it?”
The monster sighed. “For now, yeah. I need to clean the rust, replace certain components… but I’ve got other work to do. Consider this a break.”
Does not compute.
Does not compute.
…
“...Can’t you scrap me now?”
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A3! Troupe Event: MY WORST WEDDING | Event Story Translation (8/11)
Neither Japanese nor English is my first language so please forgive me if I made mistake. However, feel free to point me out, I’d love to hear your feedbacks on the translation ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
Translation under the cut
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Sakyo’s mother: ––Oh my, so this is what the bride’s makeup room looks like. It’s princess-like.
Azami: I’m sorry for being selfish. The one who stirred Sakyo up is me.
Sakyo’s mother: It’s alright. Because there is no doubt that you guys will never be able to persuade me unless doing this way, Sakyo said this just then, right.
Sakyo is also a stubborn child, isn’t he? He really inherited my personality traits well.
…I’m sorry. Now that you guys have had things done for me, maybe I should just honestly and happily receive it…
Azami: I know. Look at this first.
Sakyo’s mother: ––
Azami: This dress was made by Yuki-san, our theater troupe’s costume designer after asking Sakyo’s younger sister to check your size.
Sakyo’s mother: Eh, you guys went out of your way just to do this for me…?
Azami: When I asked, he was excited to prepare the dress.
Sakyo is always stingy to pay for the fabric for our theater troupe’s costume, but when he asked Yuki-san to make the dress with the highest quality clothing materials, Yuki-san was pumped up.
Sakyo was the one who paid for all the materials to make the dress. He also said that he’d pay for the designing and tailoring cost too, but Yuki-san told him he enjoyed making the dress, and it was for Sakyo’s mother so he’s gonna make it for free.
Sakyo’s mother: So that’s it… This dress is so beautiful.
Azami: Sakyo also said “If she doesn’t want to wear it, then that’s fine. It’s just the same as the hair tie I gave her back then.”
Sakyo’s mother: That child… He still remembers that story.
Azami: This is the dress that Yuki-san made only for you, so it’ll definitely look good on you. And I’ll make sure that you can wear it with confidence after I do the makeup and style your hair.
So why don't you give it a try and then decide what to do? Please, I beg you.
Sakyo’s mother: …If you insist, then I guess I can’t say no anymore. I’m counting on you.
But why does Azami-kun have to go this far?
Azami: It’s gonna be a quite long story, so I’ll tell you ‘bout it while putting on the makeup.
*Short timeskip*
Azami: I grew interested in makeup when helping my sick mother with her makeup.
Sakyo’s mother: Your mother is…
Azami: She passed away when I was still a kid.
Sakyo’s mother: I see…
Azami: After my mother passed away, Sakyo came to my house. My dad was busy, so Sakyo has been taking care of me for a long time…
*Flashback*
Dad brought Sakyo to my house when I was 6 years old.
“Sakyo?”
“Right. From now on, this guy will take care of you.”
Ever since I was a baby, there were lots of young folks (*) coming in and out of my house frequently, so it’s not strange to see newcomers in my house, but among them, Sakyo was very young.
Until then, it was the young folks taking turns to pick me up and drop me off at the nursery school. But since that day, Sakyo has been in charge of all those duties.
“Oi, Sakyo. I’m thirsty."
“What did you just call me… Here, drink some water.”
“I want orange juice.”
“If you only drink sweet things, you’ll get cavities in your teeth.”
“Orange juice!”
“You can drink it only when you eat snacks.”
“Then, I’ll have some snacks.”
“Only after you’re done learning how to use the abacus.”
“Annoying.”
“It’s gonna be useful if you can memorize it.”
“No one does that.”
“Then what are your pals doing?"
“Don’t know. I’ve never hung out with them.”
“...Do you want to play with bubble wrap.”
“That’s boring!”
He’s naggy, and looked like a cold person at first, but he kept following me because it was his responsibility to watch over me.
I even spent more time together with him than with my dad, we started to open up with each other gradually, and it slowly became more fun playing with him.
When my mom passed away, I pretended to look fine in front of my dad, but deep down in my heart, that was a huge shock to me.
It was undoubtedly thanks to Sakyo that I was able to truly get over my mom’s death at that time.
*Back to present*
Azami: Our relationship is different now, but we used to be close in the past. Thanks to Sakyo, I was able to pull myself together and regain my energy, even when I was in elementary school––.
That’s right. Actually I wanted to say thanks to you for this when we met last time.
Sakyo’s mother: These cards are…
Azami: When my dad banned me from playing the popular card game when I was in elementary school, Sakyo made these cards for me and played with me.
You’re the one who originally created this right?
Sakyo’s mother: That’s right… So that’s it… Sakyo gave them to you…
Fufu. How nostalgic.
When I was making these cards while waiting for Sakyo to return home, I was disappointed with myself that I couldn’t buy him a popular toy.
But that child looked really happy playing my handmade cards, and I was saved by that. It was hard to make a living back then, but thanks to his presence, I was able to overcome many hardships.
He has grown up now, but he’s still a little shy and cute, isn’t he.
Fufu. This is nostalgic. I wish I could hug that small child again… There’s no way he will let me hug him now.
Azami: Speaking of hugs… People seem to do wedding hugs these days.
The thing you do after taking the oath, t-that’s too shameless but… it’s okay if it’s just a hug right?
Sakyo’s mother: That’s right… Then maybe I wouldn’t feel embarrassed even in front of my children.
…But that child and Azami-kun are pretty similar. His father also passed away because of illness when he was little…
Azami: Perhaps Sakyo is doing his best to support my dad because he can’t show filial piety to his father anymore.
I’m also the same. I want to do something for you, and for the part I couldn’t do for my mom. It’s completely my own self-satisfaction though…
Here, it’s done.
Sakyo’s mother: It’s not your self-satisfaction. I’m pleased, too.
…I don’t look like myself. It’s like Cinderella’s magic, isn’t it.
It would be a waste if I don’t take photos when putting on this wonderful makeup and wearing this special dress that you guys prepared for me.
If I don’t keep this as a commemoration, I may regret it for the rest of my life.
Azami: That means––.
Sakyo’s mother: I wonder if I can fit into this dress though.
Azami: It seems that it was made to be easy to adjust the waist and so on.
Sakyo’s mother: As expected of costume designer-san.
Azami: I’ll call someone to help you change costumes.
Sakyo’s mother: Ah, wait a minute––
Azami-kun, thank you for always taking care of that child.
Azami: ––No, as I told you earlier, it was me who has been taken care of for a long time…
Sakyo’s mother: Even this time too, I now understand Sakyo’s recent place to belong is–– I realize how important and precious the theater troupe and your house are to Sakyo.
He sometimes told me that he was looking after you when you were a kid… That child, he seemed to be having a lot of fun while complaining all the time, didn’t he.
Ever since he became your caretaker, the atmosphere around Sakyo has changed, he even became softer.
He worried about you so much that he couldn’t put his mind at ease as if he had a child of his own.
…That’s why you are like a grandchild to me.
From now on, please continue taking care of that child.
Azami: …Yeah.
Translator’s note:
(*) He was using the word “若い連中” here, which literally means young folks, and as far as I understand, this also refers to the young people who don’t have a certain rank in a yakuza group.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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#a3! translation#autumn troupe#akigumi#autumn troupe’s 10th play#my worst wedding#my worst wedding translation#act addict actors
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a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 9: secret
pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127
tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content
summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself
but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out
ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting
now, you must make them choose you
[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [0: prologue] [1: escape, again] [2: lost and found] [3: returned] [4: bound] [5: home] [6: gift] [7: reunion] [8: security]
wc: 4.2k
chapter warnings: [redacted] is a menace
"Send me back to the Dome," you say, trying to sound authoritative rather than a beggar. "I need cryotherapy."
Taeil pauses in the middle of checking his screens, face limned in a gradient of green to red.
"You'll just wake up in heat, again." He says, not looking at you fully. "Like I said, it's a stopgap. Not a full stop."
"There has to be some way." You try not to sob, wiping snot away from your face with a microscope lens cleaning tissue. "They can isolate me better there."
"Taeyong risked exposure bringing you here." The doctor sounds more terse than usual, raised light pen highlighting specific data points on the glass screen. "If you go back they'll know you aren't being mated."
"I'm not!" You can't help the pitch change, voice cracking as you cycle through the latest round of humiliation. "He doesn't really want me, none of you want me. I'm just an inconvenience and a joke to you."
"No," he says, shoulders slumping. "You're not. Not a joke, at least. Inconvenience, maybe."
"But you just made a joke." The wetness flooding your nasal cavity makes you splutter rather than laugh.
"I wasn't trying to."
You fall apart at that, actually laughing. It devolves into hiccups as you lie down on the cracked couch next to his station. The stained vinyl sticks to your cheek, blessedly cool.
"Can at least one of you have a normal response to this?"
That earns you a sidelong glance. "I'm not sure we're clear on what a normal response to this situation is supposed to look like."
"A hug would be nice," you say, meekly.
"Not exactly standard Imperial protocol." He adjusts his glasses, mouth opening and closing before he decides whatever he's going to say next isn't worth the effort. "We're looking out for your safety."
"I don't care."
"You will when this is over."
"I said, I don't care." You roll over, circled to protect your vulnerable belly but also to indicate your displeasure. Your tail flops against your leg.
"Did you eat?"
"Yes."
"Did you get enough sleep?"
"I dreamt about him." Bitterness drips from every word. "I always dream about him."
You have the impression from Taeil's sigh that he might tell you that he's not that kind of doctor. Maybe, like Yuta, he'll ask you to pay by the hour. You'd had your share of what the Imperial college considered psychiatric treatment, parts interrogation and parts reconditioning–you don't want it from him. You fold closer to the seatback, sniffling.
"I was there, you know." He says, instead.
Your entire body goes rigid, shivers racing up your spine. "I don't remember."
"I was younger than you are now. We all were." He pauses, sucking in a breath. "Just kids."
You don't turn over but your jaw follows the direction of your ears, looking back at him. You know how old they were all too well–the same cohort as Johnny. Old enough to vote and die in a war, not at the age where they still slept with the dolls they'd been given for their last birthday celebration.
"And I was thirteen," you say. "Why does he treat it like it's my fault? Why is he angry at me?"
"He's not angry at you."
Your hackles rise at his words, fingers digging into a hole in the upholstery.
"I feel hate," you say. "I feel resentment."
"We all feel it. You just feel it the most." Taeil's hand ghosts over your head. "Do you understand what a pack bond is like?"
You shake your head, letting his fingertips graze your scalp. After a moment he indulges you, blunt nails scratching the place where your ear's fur blends into more human hair. He stops when you begin to lean into it.
"It's like what you can do through your own bond, in a way. Takes more time and exposure but once you fall into a routine your needs and the pack's start to blend together. Some of us chose Johnny, some of us chose Taeyong. Once they established a bondmark it didn't make a difference."
You sit up, swaying a bit with how dizzy you feel. The sedatives you’d swallowed were wearing off already, heat metabolism burning through everything.
"Who did you choose?"
"Does it matter?' He refuses to answer, going back to his work, but your stare remains fixed on the side of his face. Puzzling out what had bothered you about him for the past few days hadn't been easy but one thing is right there for you, now: the scars.
"Did he mark you, too?"
You watch him freeze, face grim. "No."
"But wouldn't something like that cause–"
"I said, no." Taeil's usual air of disinterest breaks, his voice raised. "It doesn't work that way."
It doesn't matter to you. You reach out to touch his face, nails trailing down his jaw. He needs a shave, skin dry but much more warm than you expected. Taeil is out of reach a few seconds later, chair rolling away now that he's stood out of it.
"What are you doing?" There's a bit of menace in his tone. "Stop it."
You expect the order, shifting back on your knees. The room is suffusing with a clean, sweet flavor as you breath through your mouth–like pear or another white fruit with a hint of burnt sugar from his anxiety.
It doesn't matter if it's coming from you, or him. The effects are transparent in the way he's mirroring you, breaths coming more rapidly as his pupils dilate. He removes his glasses, wiping the instant sheen of sweat from his face.
"You're all cowards," you say earnestly. You flex your muscles, unable to spring up but stuck in place. For now.
He frowns but doesn't speak, reaching for something on the desk as you twitch and test the limits of his order's hold.
"Hiding behind your prime like none of you can make a decision for yourselves," you continue, making it off the couch. You sink to the floor for a moment before you find strength in your screaming leg muscles. Taeil is busy rotating a glass ampoule into his syringe gun, but he has enough sense to try again.
"Be still," he says.
You stand up only to lurch forward, hands colliding with the tiled floor.
"If you stick that needle in me again, you'll regret it," you pant. You let your body lose tension, your tail the only thing rigid as it extends behind you.
"This isn't for you," he says. You look up, confusion fleeting as you watch the device disappear into the crook of his arm under a rolled-up sleeve. "At least one of us has to be in control."
You cackle, hiccuping again. "Oh now that's funny."
Jungwoo is the one to collect you, your body still trembling with a mixture of hysterics and blinding-hot rage–mostly at the fact that you continue to submit after the third and fourth command.
"You alright, Doc?" he asks, cheerily poking you with his nightstick.
"Nothing I can't sleep off," Taeil answers from the other side of the room. "I recommend she get some rest, too."
"Oh that should be easy enough." You flinch when he pulls you up, the floor much more appealing to your animal brain after the continuous reminder to stay down.
"Come on," he says, holding you by the neck when you can finally stand on your own. Under any other circumstances you'd balk at being led this way but the alternative of the weapon in his other hand has you compliant. Some instinct tells you he wouldn't hesitate to use force, however nice he might seem.
You swivel your head when you pass by the commons, catching Mark sitting at a table eating something from a bowl. He doesn't acknowledge you, nodding to Jungwoo instead.
"Y'all good?"
Jungwoo's thumb strokes your spine, making your tail bat against his leg.
"Passed her checkup with flying colors," he says. "No Containment, yet."
"Good," Mark says, going back to the faraway look that indicates he's reading again through his AR. "Switch off at three."
"Yuta's still dealing with the situation downstairs. I'll have him get the next meal."
"I thought Taeil was cooking?"
"Old man needs a nap," Jungwoo says. "Make sure to feed the freak."
You stay wordless through the exchange, skin prickling at the constant pressure beneath your hair.
"Such a good little pet," he says quietly once he's back to leading you upstairs, hand splaying over your back. You can't help but feel a little warmed by the expression, even as fear has your pulse racing.
"Why did you lie?" you ask.
"I'll be honest with you if you indulge me in something," he says.
You have no reason to trust him but the possibility of not having to return to your cell is too delectable to pass up, soothed by his easy manner. You give him a careful nod.
"Good, let's take a little detour."
Your legs are burning by the time you make it to the fourth level, surprised by the shift in layout even past the second. Here the open space is widened, walls no longer gray industrial synthetics but a rich dark wood slotted together modularly, doors spaced apart and lined by glass and soft lighting. The plants here are mostly fake, you notice–tasteful reconstructions mixed with statuary, the occasional nook between rooms exposing the glass edge of the building.
"Are these all your rooms?"
"Doyoung and Taeyong live up in the presidential suite," he points. "This floor is for the high-ranking Felids. They're territorial like us, of course."
You follow him to the far end, a strangely open door beckoning. At a closer range you see the thick slider has been forced open, bent so far outward it's cracked on the curve.
"Is that . . .?"
He brushes your ear with his nose, scenting you from behind. "Don't you want to see?"
"No," you murmur. You feel weak, trying to fight the contradictory emotions of fear and curiosity that have you pushing back against his willowy frame.
"Silly." He nudges you forward. "What are you afraid of?"
"Is this some kind of test?" You panic, looking back at him. Jungwoo has the nightstick raised like a conductor's baton, tapping it thoughtlessly against his shoulder.
"Maybe," he says, walking past you towards the door. "Maybe I just want to help you."
"Why?" you ask, with no answer. You're drawn to follow, finding his green scent a welcome thread in a tapestry of the rich leather and wood smells that have settled over the area, most of them emanating from the open door.
Just this once, you think. He won't know.
You slip into the residence behind him, avoiding the jagged edges of the broken door. The lights are dim and the glass filtered to maximum opacity, which makes the apartment seem smaller than what the space belies. It takes up an entire corner of the building, two floors opening up once you're in, drifting past the scattered wreckage of broken furniture and glass partitions to a common room centered around a circular biome aquarium that's blessedly still intact.
"A bit of a mess, isn't it," Jungwoo says, turning off a floor autocleaner thudding useless between a wall and what looks to be a broken bar cart. The contents of the kitchen counters are cleared, dry goods exploded over the marble and walls like manic art. You smell coffee and flour and fried electronics, but most of all the citrusy scent of a distressed feline.
"Was this all because of me?" you ask.
"Of course," Jungwoo says, already halfway up the floating staircase leading to the loft.
There's a more lived-in quality to this space, minimal as it is, the low bed flanked by an out-of-place VR station and industrial cabinetry. Your chest tightens seeing the human traces in the unmade bed sheets, the towel abandoned on the floor leading to the modular bathroom.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Everything here is yours," Jungwoo says, sitting down at the VR station, legs stretched out. "Take what you want. You'll need your mate's scent to get through your heat comfortably."
Your nails dig into your palms, a violent buzzing in your head. The circular mirror over the bed reflects a much smaller, meeker person than you imagined yourself to be, hunched down and ears pinned.
"I can't. I don't belong here."
"Come here." Jungwoo beckons.
You approach a little more quickly than you would under normal circumstances. Compulsion isn't necessary when your fox needs to be soothed, discomfort electrifying you from head to toe. The Canid recognizes it immediately, stroking your head and neck until you're more calm.
"You have nothing to be afraid of," he murmurs. "I'm going to show you something I found when I did a little digging."
He hands you the wired headset from the desk. You find it difficult to put on, allowing him to bring it over your ears gently and tighten the straps to keep it from wobbling.
"They don't let us use these in the Dome," you say aloud, feeling vulnerable with the sudden blindfolding effect as he lowers the visor for you, soft lights blinking on your peripheral vision.
"Don't worry, I'll guide you," Jungwoo says, powering it on. You turn this way and that when the virtual console appears, displaying a minimalistic view of the surrounding room. A red warning flashes to indicate you're an unauthorized user, quickly blinking away.
You're not sure how he's controlling the deck remotely, but then he lifts your hand to bring one of several access points to the forefront. The file markers and previews indicate reconstructed scenarios, something you knew from crime melos as detailed analysis tools. It was the norm to record certain events such as meetings or ceremonies. What you'd seen was more sinister: surveillance and evidence capture.
"Don't be scared," Jungwoo whispers, noting the way your body goes rigid at the thought of being exposed to something overwhelming. "These are very boring immersions."
He helps you move through a series of environmental reconstructions before finding a nondescript file without a preview, last access timestamp a week ago. An encryption key table appears as soon as he taps it with your finger and he chuckles, vibrating you both.
"What is it?" you ask, jerking at the sudden sound.
Jungwoo guides your finger to trace characters and numbers, each highlighted entry bringing you to a clearer understanding.
"How do you know my real birthdate?" you ask. It wasn't recorded, wasn't ever shared with anyone. The registered, publicized version had been chosen for astronomical significance, just a number to you.
"The other half of the encryption are the geo coordinates of what I suspect might be your birth location," he says. "Are you ready?"
"No." You squirm. "I don't understand."
"If I just told you about this you'd never believe me."
Jungwoo pulls you down onto his knees, pinning you by a hand around your waist. You're forced to finalize the entry, green pulse indicating the key is correct.
The environment builds in layers, schematics to colors to overlay textures, finally resolving with light when the time-matching settles on the right point in the recording. You didn't need the additional details–recognition in a sketch of a place so familiar to you that tears are springing to your eyes seeing it again.
"I don't understand," you repeat, much more sadly.
"It's more common than you think. One of your staff sets a few microcameras, collects them the next shift. Usually smuggle them out by swallowing them. No transmission, so the censors can't catch them. Temporary enough to miss their sweeps."
You're standing in your Palace residence again, your garden beckoning through the sheer curtains, moved by a manufactured breeze. The bridge to your isle in the canal system leads to a much less resolved external view of the rebuilt Imperial city, the accuracy blurring a landscape you know like the veins in the back of your hand.
"There's an incredible market for this stuff," Jungwoo says, showing you how to navigate without moving, spreading your fingers. "Some of your kin cut out the middlemen and release their own immersions. Fully staged and edited of course."
You squeak at the strange sight of a figure moving past you, unresolved with details outside of a basic skin. The person looks monstrous with flattened features and jerky movements.
"This is raw–not a lot of scrubbing. Whoever finalized the recording had a clear target."
You're turned to face yourself–not a reflection, but a fully rendered simulacra. You're curled into your favorite armchair, a daily scroll of events and schedules abandoned in your lap as you talk to someone ignored by the reconstruction.
You can't hear anything but you can read your lips–this conversation had taken place only a season ago, confirmed when you move closer to parse the pixelated images on the scroll–each colorful invitation burnt into memory with the detailed preparations in costuming and social ceremony.
"How did you find out about this," you ask. The sensation of viewing yourself in this way is akin to hundreds of insects crawling over your skin, your heart thudding in your chest.
"Oh he's careful. Just not careful enough at home." Jungwoo rests his chin on your shoulder. "Don't worry, this is a private collection."
He scrubs through the immersion, prompting a jump to another–this one a few years ago by the drastic change in decor and your own styling. The flash forward makes you dizzy, watching the ghost of yourself move around your home-turned-panopticon, reading a dog-eared 21st century romance book.
You spread your palm to freeze the experience after the Dome's sun sets to be replaced by a now doubly artificial moon.
"Do you want to know the most watched parts of these recordings?"
You can't stop him from following you into your bedroom. Even going back in time there's nothing obscene here; the recording area didn't appear to include your bathing chamber, in a different building entirely. No, here you merely sleep–curled into thick pillows without a whim as to the eyes drinking every detail in.
"You're cute when you're chasing something in your dreams," Jungwoo observes.
"They're nightmares." You pull free of his grasp, fighting the headset. You've seen enough. Once you're out you find a ghostly version of the feed projected across the surfaces around you, including his amused features.
"Why show me this?" You twist to snarl at him. "It means nothing."
You're met with self-satisfaction. Jungwoo's tongue darts over his bottom lip, distracted by your face inches from his. His hands raise in a gesture of surrender.
"I'm on your side," he says. "Even if Johnny doesn't want to admit it, you're our pack's omega already. You should know it."
"Ours?" You feel a twinge in your chest. Still wary, you test his conviction by adjusting on his lap, nose brushing against his. He isn't caught off guard in the slightest, slender hands engulfing your cheeks.
"You should be taken care of. Treasured." He says, searching your face.
You enjoy the sound of that more than you expect, unable to keep yourself from purring in agreement. You're wary of his motives but you need the touch more than oxygen.
"And you'll be the one to do it?" your voice goes husky. "Won't you get in trouble with the others?"
His scent response is sharp. The crushed hemp odor is a relief from Johnny's all-pervasive presence, making you feel lighter.
"You're not the only one they underestimate." He grins wickedly. "Do you think you can trust me?"
"No," you say, remembering Yuta's admonishment. "I don't trust you."
He pouts a little, brushing your lips with his thumb and making you shudder in pleasure. "You're such a funny little thing. Why deny yourself what you want?"
There's an irony in his words, seeing lust reflected in his eyes under the fall of his thick lashes. He's a very beautiful creature; it would be simple for your fox to roll into this seduction and take what you want. Perhaps you'd even enjoy it, losing yourself in his soft voice and his crooked smile.
But you recognize a fellow mesopredator, and unlike Taeyong or Haechan he's more of a threat to you and your long-term survival.
"What do you want to do to me?" you ask, slipping out of his hold to lean back against the desk, gripping the edge until your nails hurt. "Do you think you can claim me?"
"Claim isn't the word I'd use. Maybe instead . . . please you?"
He bumps your chest with his head, scenting you. Whether it's the surroundings or the warm bloom of arousal in your stomach you let him explore you through the fabric, teeth catching on your undergarment as he nips at your breast. Your breath hitches, back arching to bring yourself closer as warmth spreads through your core.
"Does that feel good?" he asks.
"Yes . . ." you whine.
It's a dangerous game but you're wound tight, hoping to get a little relief before you're forced back to your cell.
Jungwoo follows the lead, head dipping into the unmarked side of your neck, tongue slipping over your sensitive skin. Your knees threaten to give out as he presses his lips to your gland between gentle licks, touch wandering lower to sneak under the edge of your shirt.
His hands are cool against your flushed skin, and the shock breaks the spell.
"Not here. I don't want to do this here," you say. You're surprised it works—he pauses to breathe hot against your collarbone.
"Why not?"
"It's my first time," you say. Your face is burning, heartbeat loud in your ears.
"Again, why not?" He peers up at you charmingly.
"I'm scared," you say. You mean it, even if it's making your fox all the more intrigued.
"How about just a taste instead," he says, hands digging into your hips. In an instant you're pushed further on the desk, toes slipping off the floor as he forces your legs apart, burying his head between your thighs. You cry out, somewhere between protest and pleasure at finding his face against you through the thin material.
Icy fear melts into something dangerous as his tongue flattens against the moisture already there, more springing up in response as pleasure courses through you. You don't have the sense to stop him, fingers disappearing into his fluffy hair as he traces the shape of you through your clothes.
"So sweet," he says, muffled. "It's too bad you're not ready."
He breaks free with a final, long swipe ending in a tug of his teeth that makes you curl around him, legs twitching.
"Don't stop–"
"No." The word has a little more edge to it as his hand closes over yours. It's then you realize that you've grabbed the nightstick abandoned on the desk. "Let go."
"I wasn't–" you begin to say, the weapon wrested from your limp grasp.
"You don't have to lie to me," he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your body tells the truth."
He kisses the edge of your frown, pulling aside when you try to follow with your lips. His forehead bumps against yours, hunched over to circle his hips into your groin so you can feel the hard, long line of his arousal. If you'd been fearful of the toy he'd brought you, you're terrified now.
"You're not ready," he repeats, arched nose pushing against your cheek. You can smell yourself on his breath as he huffs, slightly bitter. "You’ll know when you’re begging for it."
The contact is too much of a relief for you to cringe away, your legs wrapping around his hips to try and bring him against you again. Despite everything screaming at you to stop, the pressure is incredible, your sex throbbing with each roll against him.
"Please, you said you'd help me," you blurt out.
Jungwoo has the nerve to laugh at your attempt, extricating himself and turning to look at something over your head.
"You called?"
Yuta's voice is a shock. You'd half-expected it to emerge from your agent, the emergency call you'd snuck through still pulsing red with no response. Instead you find him leaning casually over the railing from the stairs, gaze narrowed and assessing.
From his bored posture, he's been watching awhile.
"I didn't want to be alone with him," you say. "He can't control himself."
"Looks to be the other way around from here," he drawls.
Whatever hope you'd had that he'd be upset at the situation disappears in an instant. You slide down with your legs firmly pressed together, feeling exposed.
"She called you? Smart." Jungwoo sniffs, only a little displeased.
"Not really." Yuta says. "What's the story, then?"
"Well, she slipped out. Couldn't help herself but run here," Jungwoo says, tapping away at his hand with the rod. "When I came to get her she tried to get into my good graces, as you can see."
"But you brought me here to show me . . ." you don't continue, watching Yuta nod towards the other man with no acknowledgement of your rebuttal. Your heart sinks in your chest.
"Might want to add some flavor. A little realism."
"Sure thing, boss." Jungwoo jabs the nightstick into your hip, hesitating only a second to let you understand what's about to happen. You freeze, trapped against the desk, adrenaline slowing time down to a horrible crawl.
"Sorry we couldn't play more," Jungwoo says.
Then he activates the power switch, obliterating any thoughts or words you might have in an explosion of pure pain.
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#agtbtb#nct x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 omegaverse#nct 127 cyberpunk au#nct fic#nct 127 fic#nct imagines#nct 127 imagines
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The baby again pt2
Soo, I'm back hi.
Kinda been avoiding my summer hw and so after cleaning the house to its limit including the pool and getting a job, this is the last thing I can do to avoid my hw. And also I'm avoiding my own emotions and responsibilities <3333 Also it's super short I'm sorry I had literally no idea on what to write, I have a major case of writer block.
this is for the 6 people who follow this blog congrats guy you did it!!
with that out of the way.. pt one
So after their interaction with Sun, the pair of siblings are met with the one and only Freddy Fazbear. He met up with the two while standing next to a charging station. "Hey, Superstars!" Freddy said waving at the siblings. As usual, Y/n is hiding behind their brother. What else does one do when a robot more giant than anyone you've seen before stares down at you? "Y/n you can't hide behind me forever you know?" Gregory said with a chuckle, their sibling became more embarrassed Gregory having enough of it grabbed them and pushed them towards Freddy. Freddy proceeded to try to get to their height as best he could, "I'm Freddy Fazbear, and you and your friend are?" He asked pointing at their stuffed animal. "I'm Y/n, and this is (stuffed animal name)." They said petting the fluffy creature and avoiding eye contact with Freddy Fazbear. "Nice to meet you Y/n," he said tipping his hat to them. When their little bright eyes caught onto the hat in arms reach, they just snatched it, Freddy let them do as they pleased and put it on their head. (insert acapella of Freddy's ar..ar ar ar ) The hat flopped over their eyes and head and consumed them. Tho they are afraid of the dark this hat being over their eyes was fine. They even began to laugh and imitate Freddy. This made Gregory laugh super hard, and Freddy withheld his laughter but it was quite hard to do so. Freddy then took his hat back and neatly placed it on his head, "I'll get you a copy sweetheart." They didn't notice the nickname as they kept laughing because Gregory kept giggling about the situation.
while Gregory and Freddy were busy discussing something Y/n was just looking around. Then they saw something peculiar, a white rabbit with big ruby eyes. The rabbit just stared at them, then began making motions to try and get the child to come to them. Y/n swears they hear her say "Hey over here". Y/n was just confused because animals don't speak, animals like rabbits don't usually go on two feet for extended amounts of time. Their head tilted in confusion before Gregory called out their name.
"Y/n you coming?" he said while holding his hand out for them to grab. Y/n then caught back up with the robot bear and their brother. They held one hand from each of them and skipped along still slightly confused about the rabbit.
When the trio reached the atrium Gregory let out the girliest scream he's ever let out. The only reason Y/n didn't scream was their brother's scream scared them to silence, as they hid behind Freddy.
Gregory took the map the bot held and put his tsundere attitude back in place with a ruffle of his hair "It wasn't THAT scary. Man, you're such a baby Y/n"
"Don't call me a baby, just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I'm a baby" They said stepping out from behind Freddy.
"Let's keep going superstars, no reason to make a big fuzz about something like this" Freddy said slightly nervous because he could tell this whole thing was going to go downhill if he said nothing. Gregory just sighs and goes on with Freddy and Y/n behind him.
As the trio was walking back to rockstar row Freddy was holding Y/n hand as they held their stuffed animal. They were horrified by the dark so they clung to Freddy since he was so big he'll scare off anything in the dark they thought. Gregory was walking ahead of them and calmed down Y/n when they had to hide in a dark place. Eventually, Freddy had them stay in his chest cavity so they would be safe and wouldn't be afraid of the dark. Gregory was against the idea but before he could protest they were already inside speaking through him. "This is so cool!" they said with a giggle and a bright smile "It's so roomy too." Gregory just sighed and continued on.
#fnaf glamrock freddy#fnaf x reader#fnaf x y/n#fanafiction#reader x glamrock freddy#gregory x sibling#fnaf x child reader#gender nuetral reader#freddy x reader
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Ran the first proper Field of White Flowers playtest the other day.
I stuck them in the Kill Six Billion Demons universe, because i love that setting and its general aesthetics and power level are perfect matches for FoWF (tbh K6BD was a significant inspiration for FoWF)
They were mercenaries hired by the Repossessions Guild to break into the house of a mob boss who’d gone missing and take everything that wasn’t nailed down.
TLDR: it was fun
in depth breakdown of what happened below the cut because i don't wanna nuke everyone's dash <3
For those with no context: Field of White Flowers is a high fantasy high power tabletop roleplaying game system geared towards huge dramatic anime fight scenes, wuxia bullshit, and feats of tremendous heroism and villainy. It draws inspiration from the webcomic Kill Six Billion Demons, fighting games, a vast slew of other roleplaying game systems, and the time-honored video gaming tradition of having a climactic duel in a field of white flowers.
The big thing I was worried about going into the playtest was just that it wouldn’t be fun. I’d had a lot of fun designing it and talking about it, but until you play the game properly it’s impossible to tell whether the game is actually fun.
Like, take Lancer. I love Lancer, I love the design philosophy behind it, I love theorycrafting builds for Lancer. Actually playing through a Lancer combat is like getting a cavity filled without anesthetic. How do 4 rounds with 4 players and no roleplay take 6 hours? We will never know
Our cast, in order of introduction:
Abzu, Newborn God: a young ocean god seeking to prove himself to his brethren. flavorwise he was a waterbender, mechanically he was a fairly supportive debuff engine focusing on lowering enemies’ stats with Chill. Attempts to get Abzu's player to join tumblr have been unsuccessful thus far.
Alizoba, King of Miscellany: sapient pile of trash looking for more stuff to add to themself. had a build based around Baiting enemies into bad moves and following up with huge combos. Alizoba was played by @cyrus-swag.
Ophidia, Serpent Queen of Lead: cowgirl and gun witch, mostly just here to kill people and get money. build revolved (haha gun pun) around throwing flashbangs, vanishing, and reappearing somewhere else with a huge gun. Ophidia was played by @fearlesscomfort.
Sixgill Griseus, The Bartender No One Fucks With: shark man who is a bartender/bouncer/chef/waiter/etc at his bar. magically-enhanced death glare can intimidate inanimate objects and shut down people's nervous systems. Sixgill was played by @historically-innaccurate-dialga.
The events of the session:
Abzu immediately murders someone for polluting a canal
gradually all met up and made their way to the house they were going to rob
encountered two devils, the tiny chainsaw-wielding Ozzy and the colossal Scunge who wielded a machete and a harmonica, guarding the house
Scunge was tackled clean through the door of the house and pinned down by Sixgill until he simply keeled over dead from the force of the bartender's stare
Ozzy mauled Abzu and Ophidia, and was about to coup de grace the latter when Alizoba summoned a building on top of him
Ozzy and Scunge served as a test of the Power Couple mechanic, in which two combatants are represented by a single statblock, one of which dies and changes the statblock when they collectively reach half HP
Inside the house, they encountered a vast horde of living dead who had been employed as meth cooks and house guards. They fought them off for a while before Ophidia finished off the last forty or so by briefly stopping time and lining up a headshot on each one
The zombies were an example of the horde mechanic for representing a TON of enemies with one statblock and a few minions. They worked great
Next was a hall of huge swinging blades, because i wanted to include a few simple skill challenges.
Sixgill just used his enhanced senses to walk through the hall, only getting barely clipped by the last one.
Abzu attempted to freeze the mechanisms, but they exerted too much force and shattered the ice.
Ophidia solved the "there are several thousand pounds of high velocity metal in front of us" with her own several hundred pounds of high velocity metal (she shot the blades with her minigun until they broke)
The next room was a treasure room, with tons of weapons in glass cases. Sixgill broke one of the cases to get a harpoon, causing the rest of the weapons to drop through the floor and poison gas to pour into the room
Abzu waited out the poison in a bubble, while Alizoba summoned a fridge to hide in. Sixgill stared the fucking poison down and the very air said "you know what fuck that I'm not getting paid enough." Ophidia tried to fire off enough guns to replace the air near her with gunsmoke, which went badly
the final thing we had time for in this session (we're going to finish it another day) was a room with an enchanted idol in the middle, which compelled everyone who saw it to want it.
Ophidia burned a fifth of her HP to teleport over to it instantly and take it before anyone else could, and we ended the session as they walked into the next room, which contained a devil named BIG BOY (all caps)
The good stuff:
combat flows quickly from player to player, turns are short but impactful. it's not a tactical wargame, there's no grid or elaborate line of sight rules, but decisions about when to bring up damaged allies and whether or not to take short term disadvantages for long term benefit mattered
even though the system has a lot of room for optimization and certain characters were definitely stronger than others, no one felt useless even with bad rolls
the general Math of the system worked out pretty well. people were critting about as often as I wanted them to be, the HP amount for the players felt right
people had fun (the most important thing)
other important thing: it filled a niche that no other system i've played has filled, and did it well. the experience might have been different if we'd used another system, but it would not have been enriched by the change. Field of White Flowers just. fundamentally. works.
The stuff that needs improvement:
in retrospect it should have been obvious that, given that at its core the game is designed to be roughly balanced (especially at lower levels), making enemies that are on even footing with the players would make the combat REALLY fucking difficult. That was a silly on my part <3 the first encounter was not meant to be that hard. I halved the HP of the second encounter and it was much more reasonable
the mental overhead of certain builds is a little too high. the character sheet handles a lot of things for the players, but some builds have numbers that fluctuate frequently in combat
debuffs didn't quite feel impactful enough on enemies. main issue is that many of the durations are too short, leading to a lot of debuffs just sort of feeling bad when you use your whole turn to apply them, while other debuffs are just VERY VERY VERY good (looking at you Shock)
current out of combat resolution system is very bare-bones (skill checks are roll a few dice against a DC), and either a sliding scale of success or a push mechanic would likely augment it
nerfed Knife Juggler because holy fuck it was so OP for how easy it is to obtain
The nice thing about game design is you can make a system you want to play. Field of White Flowers ticks soooo many of my boxes, and it proved to be pretty easy to pick up, fun to play, and with enough depth of content to keep people talking about it for a good while after the session.
thanks for reading, and always remember: Pariah Stance allows you to tick down the countdown on Forbidden Technique faster
#field of white flowers#that last statement is an inside joke about the fact that Pariah Stance has no actual upsides#rpg design
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He CANNOT keep getting away with this.
Finally got around to groovying Trey’s Dorm SSR and please tell me why his voice line kinda—
Like I’m not insane, right? Right? Right???? Please tell me I’m not the only one that looked at this, heard this, and keeled over. Please this isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. This had me up at 2 am staring at my ceiling as I felt the hours slipping by me wondering who the fuck decided it’d be a good idea to make that his groovy voice line. I’m losing my sanity. I cannot sit here and exist a minute without thinking about this line and his magic three voice lines before becoming overcome with desire.
Trey Clover had me at his laugh. He has the cutest laugh ever, he just gets all wheezy in the middle of it and he giggles and there's something so endearing about this 6 foot baker man with forearms sculpted by the gods with a laugh that sounds like pure sunshine. I want to eat his laugh. I want to bottle it up. When he laughs it's like my stress just melts away. It's free therapy. It's depression curing. I want him to have the best life ever so he can keep laughing at silly little things like oyster sauce. Like okay, there's the chuckles he makes when he's amused by something but then there's his pure laughter and that's what I'm talking about here because his chuckles are hot but his laugh, his giggles are the sweetest things in the world, sweeter than the cakes he makes and I would get cavities just listening to it.
BUT NOW HES GOT ME WITH EVERYTHING ELSE. HE BREATHES AND I SIT HERE GOING DELUSIONAL OVER IT, HANDS SHAKING HEART FALLING APART GODS I WISH MEN WERE REAL.
Can we talk about how he slays the green under eye tho? Pop off king, slay, it brings out the gold in your eyes.
#i’m fine i promise#expect me in 2 business days the moment sebeks broomquet comes out#I will be going off about presenter trey#No but someone’s gotta be with me on this right?#I like men with cute laughs so the moment he started laughing at his oyster sauce joke I was like#Oh him!#And then he proceeds to defy my expectations in every way#I adore how he pretends to be normal but he just isn’t#That’s a whole other rant I can make happen#Someday I’ll address the hate towards him instead of my carnal lust#Like you haven’t seen the last of me#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#trey clover#twst trey#I once saw art of him making a sword with paint the roses out of paint#It was so sexy#Like imagine making paint have the texture and sting of metal#I think about that art like twice daily#Also he doesn’t like mustard which shows good genes#Yes this man will survive natural selection
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Always take your dog to the vet after a bite
Ok, but why?
Warning: discussion of animal injury, veterinary surgical procedure, and images of a bite wound below the cut.
This is not a substitution for veterinary or medical care, if you or a pet has been bitten, seek professional help immediately.
Bite wounds are very deceptive. Injuries may not be visible. Broken bones and pneumothorax don't require a puncture through the skin to wreak havoc on the body. Dog bites exert a lot of crushing and shearing force on tissues below the skin.
When you see a puncture wound from a bite, it will likely look small and it may not bleed much. As a result, it is easy to assume the injury will heal well on its own, without veterinary intervention. Do not be fooled. The danger is not in the small visible portion of the wound, but in what lies beneath.
I'm talking about dead space. During a bite, tissues can be ripped from their attachments and die, resulting in a cavity beneath the surface of a wound. This cavity is dark and moist, airflow is limited, and it fills with blood and other fluids. Bacteria love the dark and wet, so wounds with dead space can easily become abscessed.
Whim's visible puncture is less than half a centimeter in diameter. Not very concerning on its own.
When it was lavaged the vet discovered over an inch of dead space.
Without veterinary intervention, the small outer surface of the wound could close, leaving infection to fester in the area beneath the skin, with no visual indicator of what is going on until an abscess forms.
So how is healing promoted? In Whim's case, the best option was to sedate her and install a Penrose drain.
Whim's initial puncture is at the top of her back, with the drain passing through the dead space and exiting lower down. This allows gravity (and capillary action) to do most of the work to drain the wound of excess fluid. The dead space will heal and shrink around the the drain over time, decreasing the likelihood of infection in the wound once the drain is removed. They are ideal for small pockets of dead space and can be removed a few days after placement. Other drains exist and may be more appropriate depending on the injury.
Whim had 6 visible puncture wounds, all of them looked similar from the outside, but only one of them had a large pocket of dead space. You cannot tell the severity of a bite wound from looking at it, you must have your animal assessed by a licensed DVM.
I hope this has been informative to those of you interested in veterinary medicine. Do not treat this as any kind of instruction manual for caring for your animal at home. My only instruction is talk to your veterinarian.
P.S. some dogs like to try and eat their drains (hello lab owners). Depending on the location of the drain, a surgical shirt or an elizabethan collar may be appropriate to prevent this.
#am i coping with how upset i am about this by blogging about vet med? maybe#did i write this essay instead of the one i have for homework? maybe#images are my own. you do not have my permission to share them anywhere.#feel free to reblog the post though.#vetmed#veterinary medicine#whim health#wound care#animal injury cw#gore cw#images have been described with alt text
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Helii post night fury headcannons. Do this do this do this
ok ok ok ok ok so ok so. this is long im sorry
lets get basics out of the way b4 i move onto stupid brainchild stuff. night furies are highly adapted to be nocturnal and thus are very vulnerable during the day considering their lack of heavy plated scales and their dark coloration. annd we know they at least live north enough for berk (which is apparently somewhere in the norwegian sea) . so my brain tells me in order to be Least vulnerable, night furies are native to the arctic circle (or antarctic if ur a light fury) where day/night cycles are in periods of 6-ish months.
theyre kinda a mix of snow leopards and peregrine falcons in my head and eat the same stuff (wild goats or sheep, reindeer, birds, rodents) and ofc fish But are capable of being omnivorous and arent at all picky. theyre highly solitary; each one has a huge territory they use as "home base" and occasionally fly out of to hunt (sometimes flocks of night furies will gather in one location to follow migrating prey species but this usually leads to conflict). theyll generally live in and defend the boundaries of their territory for their entire life once its chosen, especially once the 6-month daytime rolls around and they need a secure area.
BUT. juveniles, bc theyre not strong/experienced enough to defend or contest territories, tend to be annually migratory and move south once the sun rises in march. night fury kit markings are super bright and once theyve faded into a dark grey color (~10 human years) theyre generally old enough to go back and contest for a territory then defend it well (toothless got caught by the red death doing this)
bc i consider most of the dragon species in httyd sapient i like to explain this instinctual behavior by giving night furies their own sort of mythology which is a Whole thing so like buckle in (its under the cut)
night furies dont have a Religion but they have myths based on figures. they have 2 main ones—the Great Mother and the Blue Queen, which respectively represent nighttime and daytime as concepts
the story is basically: night furies used to be able to call down skyfire (or lightning). the Blue Queen, jealous because she had no fire, began to use her authority to demand all the night furies hand over their skyfire, and consumed it for herself. the Great Mother was the only night fury which was brave enough to disobey and discovered a way to hide the skyfire within their bodies so they could pretend to not have any. when the Blue Queen found out about her trick, they started an endless battle. this ofc is the day/night cycle, where the occasionally red coloration of dawn/dusk is their blood. the idea is that the Great Mother shelters all of the night furies with her giant wings to hide them from the Blue Queens eye (the sun). the stars are holes in her wings that came from subsequent battles and are heavily used to navigate like humans do. northern night furies call polaris the Pierced Point and its considered the first star, where the Blue Queen drew first blood by striking the Great Mother in her fire cavity, which is why its the brightest star. a bunch of different stars and constellations have their own stories (the names are usually unified, though sometimes the content of the stories differ based on region. they all convey some type of lesson or explanation for an instinct)
night fury parents often explain to their kits, once they leave the nest, that they have to migrate because the Blue Queen will stop them from growing their fire if they stay up north, and by following the Great Mother south where their fight is more tumultuous (bc the day/night cycle is more regular), theyre helping her by learning to fend for themselves without a territory so she can focus on the battle with the Blue Queen. its like telling your kid santa is real, its a kinder way to get them to gtfo so they wont die trying to fuck with older night furies. some kits grow out of this belief entirely and others consider it kind of a pilgrimage. depends on the family
this is why night furies are so resistant to reliance and hierarchy: the antagonistic figure in their myths is a Queen who abuses her power and the right way to honor their protective figure is by learning to be independent. culturally night furies kind of have this complex abt them where vulnerability of any kind is Really emotionally intimate (which is why i hc that meeting and choosing mates can take for-fucking-ever. night furies prefer monogamy bc its less people to be vulnerable with, but theyre also picky because this is a huuuge thing for them).
u can kinda imagine how weird toothless is by general night fury standards then bc he willingly flies during the sun and chooses to be interdependent with hiccup. he had a whole crisis abt it in the first movie and before he really accepted loving hiccup he rationalized the position he was in by saying that the Great Mother was putting him on trial for hurting her somehow. obv by the end of the movie he doesnt think that anymore but for a little bit there he was like "oh god im the main character in a constellation story"
anyway yeah these r all my thoughts ^-^ hi oracle ily
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All the even number character asks for Varis? You can skip any that don’t apply
Varis, my little sweet thieving boy.
2. what ice cream flavor would they be? Varis is a strong contender for birthday cake ice cream, full of celebration and intensely sweet, cavity-inducing.
6. their most frequently told lie? “I didn’t take it.” usually said while said item is in his hands.
8. their most controversial belief? His father is the best person in the world.
12. how far away do they see themselves from their end goal? Varis’ end goal is getting into Gromph’s study, he’s about one lifted key away at all times. Gromph knows this, because he’s the one the key keeps getting lifted from.
14. what would their starbucks order be? Strawberry creme frap, with whipped cream, grande.
16. most irrational fear? Varis once burst into tears because of a centipede. He’s afraid of them.
18. what would they drive in a modern day setting? Razor scooter, the kind that could KO you if it hits your ankle.
20. the worst thing they've ever wished for? One time during a tantrum he wished Gromph would turn into a toad. Gromph wasn’t letting Varis into his study. Varis definitely meant it.
22. do they think they have more or less friends than they actually have? Look, Varis is ten, he thinks everyone in the Bregan D’aerthe is his friend even though at least half the members either don’t know he exists or think he’s an annoying ten-year-old.
24. how long can they go without a nap? Varis can’t even go a full day without a nap.
26. a reason why they would be kicked out of a store? Shoplifting, from other people’s carts.
28. which bird do they most resemble? An adolescent chicken.
30. do they like bug hunting/bird watching/plant picking? Varis loves bug and frog hunting, provided there are no centipedes. He’ll also catch lizards, snakes, crawdads, and small crabs.
38. how do they think they'll die? Quicksand, he’s 10.
40. flannel, polo shirts, or button downs? Flannel if he has to pick.
42. any accidental nicknames that stuck? Jarlaxle said Noachi once and it was over, Varis wasn’t getting another nickname from his dad.
46. their idea of a vacation? Varis considers any trip that involves leaving Luskan is a vacation, even if his dad is on a work trip and just brought him that time.
48. something they wish they knew more about? Varis would like to know more about Artemis and Jarlaxle’s adventures. He knows they’re leaving stuff out and he wants to know what but they won’t tell him (it’s all inappropriate for children stuff and Varis is never going to hear it from them).
50. a moment that keeps them up at night? I mean does it count that sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night terrified that everyone left him and didn’t say goodbye? Yeah Ilnezhara leaving Varis with Jarlaxle when he was three didn’t really do the harm mitigation Ilnezhara hoped it had.
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I hope you’re doing okay
It comes and goes but I'm still extremely miserable and I don't even know how to treat my mom anymore because it sort of feels like a lost cause and she isn't even. Cognizant of the way she treats me. Like she literally doesn't recognize anything she's done and blames it all on "me over exaggerating and misinterpreting things" basically trying to gaslight me into never believing in myself
She finally had her teeth surgery where she had to get 7 pulled because of how horrible they've gotten over the years and she's like "hey look, I asked to take a picture to show my kids the dangers of not brushing my teeth a day they let me actually take them! Look how gross they were"
And I just. Kind of blink at her and say, again
"I don't even think I was 10 years old when you and that dentist lied to me. You literally told me I had 6 cavities and I was already a mentally ill kid with depression and when you told me I had cavities, as a lie, I thought everything was already over and done with and THAT was what made me stop trying to ever brush my teeth. I was already having problems with keeping any routines but when you lied to me and told me there was permanant damage, I thought it was already all hopeless and there wasn't any point, and that I would be dead before they got worse"
And without flinching she's just like "no that's not what happened"
And of course that makes me upset. "What do you mean 'no'? Dana I am literally telling you how I felt. I am telling you the lie you told me as a child made me feel like I had permanant damage. I am telling you MY FEELINGS. This isn't something you can argue over. You can't say 'no' to how I'm telling you how I felt. This isn't even a debate. You LIED to me, A LITTLE KID, and didn't tell me the truth until literally just within the last few years now that I'm in my mid 20s"
And without flinching "well if that's how you took it than that was your misunderstanding. Me and the dentist tried to explain--"
"I was literally a young child, do you think I heard or could even understand anything after 'you have permanant damage to your teeth'. You guys didn't even tell me that cavities could remineralize and be repaired and be as good as new, you just said 'whoops you have SIX CAVITIES, brush your teeth so you don't get more' and I gave up because you told A SMALL CHILD they had MULTIPLE CAVITIES"
And she just. Doubles down. She doesn't apologize, she doesn't acknowledge what she does, she just acts like I'm being a bitch and walks away "you weren't brushing your teeth and I didn't know what to do and it was the dentists idea"
"So you deciding to team up with a complete stranger to lie to your small child? Thanks for being such a spineless fucking mother"
I'll never get any closure with her. She doesn't even know how to apologize genuinely. You know there was an incident with my sideblog a while back where I got contacted by a stranger and they were trying to I think romance scam me but, because I had trauma about displeasing people, I was, I don't even know, legitimately just chatting with him even as it scared me, even as it literally made my skin crawl, he was coming on to me but i didnt, idk, feel safe ending the conversation, and afterwards I needed support because i felt gross and weak and "oh my god why did i do that to myself, why did i keep talking to someone clearly dangerous just because i felt like i could make him mad or hurt his feelings or get myself in trouble, what if i really let someone hurt me someday because of something like this", and I posted on my blog "I bet if I told my mom about this the first thing she would do is blame me and I don't even feel like I could confide in her" and. That's exactly what happened. Literally the first thing out of her mouth was to blame it on me having these blogs where I talk to people. Literally, the first thing out of her mouth
You know. It's funny. I can recognize my behavior towards her is escalating. I don't like how the aggression is getting worse. I want to be better. I don't want to be a hateful person. I'm aware of what's happening to me.
But I'm also not self loathing enough to not be able to identify --and my research on personality disorders and how they interact with toxic family members only confirms-- that her direct treatment of me for all this years has only exacerbated whatever mental illneses I had and made so many things worse. I can literally pinpoint reasons for my behaviors. For example the other day I fished some slightly wrinkly shorts out of my laundry to wear to work. Our apartment shares only one washer dryer for 8 units of people and it's either never available or we can never have quarters so i reuse laundry a lot. Which is another of her excuses actually, becuase now that she's home literally 24/7 she's still not getting quarters from the bank when her previous excuse was how she was working and they're not open on weekends and closed by the time she gets off work.
But anyways my mother, unprompted "do you want these khakis I have in my room"
Strike one. I didn't ask for your help and there's nothing wrong with what im wearing and I also don't want anything from you. She is always giving me unwanted advice in my appearance and I have had many conversations with her before how I find that she comments on things that are completely unnecessary, like telling me as a little girl "oh put your ponytail higher, don't wear it lower LIKE A MAN" what????
"No I'm good I'll just wear these"
"Are you sure?"
Strike two. I just told you no. You know, that thing I have to do constantly.
"They're clean? Are you sure?"
Strike three. I raise my voice at her from the other room "oh my GOD I ALREADY TOLD YOU NO, RESPECT OTHER PEOPLE"
And that's me overreacting right? That's me being a bitch right? Except no, that's a direct result of me constantly having to assert myself over and over and her NEVER listening. Me having to say no I don't want highlights or dye in my hair for literally my entire life and her STILL saying it to this day. Her constantly telling me when I was in elementary school that I should be a doctor when I said over and over I didn't want to. She would literally badger me and my sister INTO PLUCKING HER CHIN HAIRS no I'm serious, she would badger her children to do a personal hygiene grooming task for her and then when I put my foot down and refused to do it, she lashes out and treated me like I was being a brat. I'm being a brat because I eventually didn't like having to spend like significant amounts of time doing something like that for her for a task she should be and could easily be doing herself?
That's the problem with my mom. She feels entitled to favors and help. Oh what's that's, you're behind on payments? Well they should try and work with her because she's struggling and if they don't it's their fault for being heartless and not her fault for not being able to pay. The amount of times she has outright asked companies to break their own policies and do her a favor by letting things slide is literal delusion. Oh sure, she'll ask "can you do me a favor" but you don't actually have an option because if you don't say yes, then it's "why not, it's just something small, come on, maybe I'm not feeling well, you should help your mom" and doing that for every. Single. Fucking. Thing.
I literally had my childhood stolen from me. It was TAKEM from me. I was physically abused by a man she married after knowing for only two months, and I had to be the one to tell her he was hitting me and my big sister because she didn't even know how bad it was. I would be screaming and crying and not wanting to go to his home for shared custody and she'd simply make excuses for why I couldn't go and then my sister developed a complex thinking I was moms favorite because mom never shielded her that same way (which I was becuase I was more subservient to her whereas my sister was more independent, therefore my mom subconsciously favored me as her little maid). My mom constantly lost or quit jobs and we had to move sometimes twice in the same year and I could never stay at the same school or have the same friends, which severely affected my social development and extremely hindered my education because all schools teach different curriculum.
And then it just became "oh Miranda is just a shitty moody teenager, oh Miranda just complains too much" and now that I'm an adult, the actual reality is "oh Miranda had a significant physical disability that she was born with" :"oh, Miranda had a personality disorder that literally takes specific targeted treatment to fix"
But my mom wants to look at me and tell me how I'm almost 27 and I need to grow up and "you've always been a bitter and hateful child"?
Yeah, because you made me that way. Yeah, because every single time I've tried to heal or gain closure or meet you in the middle on something bad that happened, she finds herself completely BLAMELESS. Yeah, because you spent so much time running to doctors for yourself that things that were significantly wrong with me got completely missed and ignored.
Yeah, I should not be outright cruel to my mother, but she doesn't deserve my respect anymore. I need to try and treat her in a calmer more neutral manner, but the days of being the daughter that rushes to do her favors to earn her love is over. Even me providing food and paying for the roof over our heads isn't even enough for her anymore because I'll be at work and I'll come home and it turned out she's just been binging on exclusively toast until an entire loaf that was supposed to be for sandiwches is gone because, why? She didn't feel like cooking the other things in the fridge and freezer, which includes leftovers of things shes made that she keepa forgetting about, and the second I, after working manual labor 40 hours a week, am finally standing at the stove where I almost NEVER cook bc I'm depressed and tired, standing there cooking cheap pasta, suddenly she's slithering into the kitchen "can you make me some too 🥺 I've barely eaten all day"
And I looked right at her and said
"We have food though? You can cook some for yourself."
I know this is a long post but there's also a new fear I've unlocked recently so I'll say this and then end things for now. My mom has always had a really shitty memory. You can literally bingewatch hours and hours of a show with her and then maybe not watch anything for a week and you come back and she needs reminders on everything that happened, main character's names, etc, and has been like this all her life. I was watching a video recently where they were talking about, the older a memory is, the more inaccurate its going to be because when you think on a memory, you remember less and less of it and your brain can fill in the gaps with false facts, UNLESS it wS a significant event and there were certain emotional associations with the memory
So...you can barely remember TV shoes or even conversations we have in the same week but you're absolutely positive over events that happened for you and me over 10, 15 years ago? You constantly whine about how your age makes you so feeble and forgetful, but when I bring up something that I have remembered and carried with me literally my entire life, suddenly no SHE is the only one who remembers "the truth" and her version of events leaves her oh so conveniently blameless?
I think... I think my mom is literally creating false memories as some sort of trauma coping mechanism or personality disorder and this has actually happened before? There was a time when she claimed a therapist of mine had been disrespectful in front of her or that my mom was present for specific conversations I had with this therapist and I was just AGAPE "M-mom you were never there? You were never there for the sessions I had with this therapist?"
But she was convinced. This was HER memory of feeling victimized and acting upon it. She was convinced and positive as if it was as simple as black and white. For something that definitely never happened. And she used that false memory as an excuse to not let me see that therapist anymore.
I just. I know I'm unhealthy and I have so many fucked up things in my head but maybe I can still fix myself and be normal? But my heart is breaking because I'm realizing, my mom will never apologize or give me closure for any, ANY of the things she's done for me, and I guess I realized this many years ago and was just living I'm denial that, maybe if I acted or did something different, it would "make things click" and she would magically understand how I felt
But it will never happen. So now I should try and focus on myself and take care of ONLY myself and the things I want to because, I already lost so many years being Mommy's Supportive Little Rock and mentally exhausting myself for her.
Long post is long but, I'm just, extremely depressed because my entire childhood and young adulthood is now gone and all it gave me was irreparable trauma and a terrible family that I love and hate with all of my heart and I am just constantly overcome with the overwhelmingly urge to just run away and disappear and never be heard from again
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I'm about to tmi complain so if that's not your vibe, advert your eyes.
I can't catch a break. It's little things in the grand scheme of it all, but let me have my lil mental break down. First not little thing-- I get blood clots in my lungs from my birth control pills at 30 years old. I am on blood thinners for a year, and I can no longer take said birth control pills so I decide to get an IUD because I don't want to risk pregnancy. I rate the insertion pain 6/10 only because after sitting around with blood clots in my lungs for 6 days, that was the worst pain I have yet to experience in my life. With the IUD, I literally have cramps every day for 6 months straight (the suggested "acclimation" period), live with a heating pad attached to me. Not only that, but I develop cystic acne. A big hit to my self-esteem; I feel 15 all over again desperate for reprive when I was first prescribed the pill to treat my resistant acne. Tell my partner I don't know if I can do this if it all doesn't get better. IUD cramps begin to improve with time, and I'm prescribed a diuretic for the acne. Acne improves, too. Now my stomach hates the diuretic and today, I learn I have two cavities, likely from dry mouth via diuretic (I am a teeth freak, brush twice a day and water floss, every single day). Like when does it stop???
#how i love being a woman#iud experience#womens healthcare#just girly thoughts#just girlboss things#i feel like an elderly young person
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