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mageofseven · 1 year

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MC Talking about Trauma they Experienced (Luce, Dia, Satan, Beel & Belphie)

Edit: this has been in my drafts for a while now. I started this one day when my depression was really bad and this was actually very therapeutic to write.

However, I got super emotionally exhausted from it and sort of abandoned it and since then, I've been debating whether to finish it, delete it, or post it as is.

After some thinking, I decided to add another character or so to the post and then post it.

Please, please check the trigger warnings below and do not read anything you can't handle.

Please protect yourself and always check for trigger warnings.

Now everything below this message is what I wrote originally that night.

Stay safe and if you do still read this, thank you for your time!~

~~~~~~~~~~

I wanted to write this because it's been on my mind; I'm autistic so I tend to have zero filter and over share things, but often in a nonchalant way, like I'm telling you about a cat I saw outside and not about things I talk to my therapist about on a weekly basis.

Basically, this is a post where MC shares bad memories (whether in an upset or nonchalant way) and we see how the Boys react.

So like, angst ahead, but the kind that might hit too close to home for some people.

I'll keep it all below the cut so you don't have to read anything potentially triggering for you if don't want to.

TW: physical abuse, emotional manipulation, child abuse, alcoholism, parents with anger issues

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer:

"MC, we're not having that for dinner for the 4th night this week."

"But...what will I eat then?"

The man sighed.

"I don't know. I'll have to figure something out." He told them. "Honestly, meal planning would be a lot easier without your food sensitivities."

The human stared into space, mind seemingly far away.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow before stepping closer.

"MC? Is something wrong, Love?"

"I'm remembering the time my mom slapped me on the face at a community barbeque in front of everyone there because she wasted money on buying me a ticket for an event without any food I could eat; I ran away and hid so I could cry and hyperventilate without people judging me."

His eyes widened.

"When did this happen?"

The human shrugged.

"I dunno. A few years back." They guessed. "I didn't get to have any food at all that day because my mom was so mad at me."

Lucifer took their hand and squeezed it.

"Well, you aren't with your mother anymore." The man smiled bitterly before adding. "I suppose we could just order pizza for tomorrow's dinner."

"No peppers? No olives?" The human asked, surprised.

"No peppers, no olives." He nodded.

"No iguana eyes? No anglerfish lantern?"

"None." He promised, despite knowing Beel's disappointment at the last two toppings not being on the pizza.

MC smiled and squeeze their boyfriend's hand back.

"Thank ya, Luce~"

The man's smile became softer.

He made a mental note to ask for Barbatos' help with finding more foods his Love can eat, but for now, the demon just didn't want MC thinking back on such horrible memories.

Like always, Luce just wanted to treat his Love how they deserved and not how they've always been treated.

Diavolo:

The two were discussing the prince's relationship with his currently deep-slumbering father.

It wasn't a topic Dia liked to speak about, but as his relationship with MC deepened, he found himself confiding in her with things he used to avoid discussing.

"...so in fairness, maybe we were never going to be close, considering the circumstances."

MC looked away, tears in their eyes.

"My Queen..." Diavolo brought his hand to their cheek. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to upset you with this."

MC shook their head.

"No, its not you." They told their boyfriend. "I just...I kinda relate in a a way..."

The prince brought the human into arms before kisskng their forehead.

"I can tell you have something in mind to share; you can share it with me."

MC was quiet for a moment before nodding.

"Once when I was a kid, we had a speaker come to class to teach us about child abuse. They handed out these pamphlets and explained to us that if our parents do any of the stuff that we talked about that day then we could call a number in the pamphlet..."

The demon tightened his embrace around them, not liking where this story was headed.

"I...I remember learning that a lot of stuff my parents did to me and my siblings was bad," They continued. "So I went home and told my parents that a speaker came to school and he told me that if they keep doing bad things and mistreat me that I could call the number on the paper..."

The human's tears fell down their cheeks, followed by Dia kissing them away.

"My Queen..."

"Ya know what they said to me?" They asked rhetorically. "They said 'Do it. I dare you'. Told me those people would take me and my siblings away, put us in foster care and split us up. That I would never see them or my brother or sister or my grandparents or anyone that I loved ever again...and told me they wouldn't even care, that they could just 'make another just like me' and that I would be responsible for my siblings' and my own suffering while my parents would just be happy to get rid of me."

The prince pulled MC into a tighter embrace as they cried.

"I wanted a good relationship with my parents so badly, but how do you become close with people who tell you at such a young age that you are replaceable and a burden they didn't even want?"

"You don't." He said softly in their ear as he stroked their hair. "Your parents were miserable people who never deserved having you as their child; they made sure of that."

The man leaned back to look them in the eyes.

"My Queen...I'm sorry you went through that. Please remember that you didn't deserve it though."

MC nodded.

"I...I know. Logically anyway...but it doesn't feel true, ya know?"

"Oh MC..."

Diavolo took the rest of the day off work, regardless of any urges or reminders from Barbatos.

This man wanted so desperately to comfort his beloved and heal the hole in her heart.

Still, the man knew there was not much he could do for the latter; this was just something his Queen had to work through on their own.

That wasn't going to stop this man from showering them love and reminding them just how perfect and sweet they are to him.

Satan:

Satan had gotten into an argument with Lucifer, resulting in one of his fits of rage.

They were so rare now of days; this was essentially the oldest bringing up the wrong thing at the wrong time and pushed it too far

Causing Satan to destroy half of the living room and the two 'brothers' screaming at one another.

This went on for a while till the two men noticed the human in the corner hyperventilating.

That knocked the blonde out of his anger real quick as he raced to their side.

Lucifer allowed the argument to pause for now, considering the human's condition, and so left them be.

Eventually, MC calmed down enough and launched themself into their boyfriend's arms.

"I'm sorry..." He spoke softly into their ear. "I shouldn't have lost control like that...especially in front of you."

MC shook their head within his arms before sniffling.

"It's not you..." They mumbled. "When the crashing started...I-I just...I didn't see you...I didn't see House of Lamentation..."

"What do you mean, Kitten?" He stroked their hair before pulling back to meet their eyes.

"I...I was in my head." They explained. "It reminded me of a time when I was a kid...my dad was drunk and got angry at my little brother. I...didn't see what happened, but I heard curses and crashes and my brother begging him to stop...and I didn't save him. I didn't save him. I hid in the kitchen and sobbed with my arms over my head, begging for him to stop in my mind but not being able move or even speak..."

"Kitten..." Satan hugged them tightly to his chest again. "You're not there; you're here with me and you're safe."

"But my brother--"

"You would have just gotten hurt too." He told them. "You were a child just trying to to survive. It's not your fault."

"But--"

"It's not your fault." He repeated.

This time, the human just closed their eyes and hung their head.

Satan picked them up and carried the human to their room; the...scare, I guess you could call it, had really tired his partner out.

He laid his Kitten on their bed and kissed their forehead.

Satan vowed to never himself lose control in front of them ever again.

Even if this time it had less to do with what he did and more about something they experienced long ago, the wrath demon needed to keep himself in check so he never brought such bad memories to his Kitten's head again.

Beel & Belphie:

The human went on a walk with the twins and, as per usual, Beel made a stop at Madam Screams to get a few dozen pastries.

Beel carried all of the bags of sweets himself and, no matter how often MC saw him carry so much food and never drop any of it, it still amazed the human.

"Dang, that's even more than yesterday..." Belphie commented. "Did you already spend all of your grimm this month?"

"Almost." The gluttony shrugged, still not dropping a single bag.

Suddenly, MC's steps slowed till they were frozen in place.

"-C? MC?" Belphie called to them.

The human slowly raised their gaze up at the men.

"You okay, Muffin?" Beel asked, concern evident on his face.

MC nodded.

"I was remembering one of the fights my parents had when I was a little kid." They explained calmly. "My dad spent over a $1,000 at the bar in a week 'cause he kept buying his friends drinks. Mama told him that he can't keep doing that because they were barely able to put food on the table as things were; Dad yelled at her for telling him what to do and Mom yelled back that she hopes he ends up dead in a ditch somewhere--what?"

The human was genuinely confused by the two demons, who stared at her with a mix of shock and pity.

Belphie shook his head.

"Let's just get home, butthead."

And with that, both twins wrapped an arm around them protectively

Causing Beel to drop two of his bags.

Still, the tallest demon never looked back as he and his brother took their human home, a place where hopefully better memories will come to their mind.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #TRIGGER WARNING #pleass be careful #⚠️

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system-of-a-feather · 10 months

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DISCLAIMER SECTION

I'm gonna ramble about race / cultural experiences and trauma (probably) and this time it really isn't a line of thought ignited by syscourse or anything - but I'll tag it's tw anyways cause I'd rather people be able to filter it out than get it out there, but anyways

(for the note this was actually spurred on from a number of conversations I was having with a few parts today at work, one of which being that post about "diagnosed early vs diagnosed late" trauma; none of these points necessarily reply to that but for transparency and context)

For all of this, if any points or topics relate or resonate with you, feel free to comment, reblog, discuss, whatever on this post. Theres a lot of trauma talk on this and some level of details (CW will be provided before each section along with CW: clears), but none of this is really intended as a vent or trauma dump as much as... ya know, just talking about it as it is.

--------

As we've gotten further and further along with our healing, we've come to be a lot more open and comfortable talking about topics specifically relating to our trauma - at least in a C-PTSD / paranoid about giving out things that can be used to hurt us sense - and that is honestly really great and I'm really happy and proud for that

The thing is though, even though we've mostly declawed how easily our main triggers can be poked at and thus enabled us to feel more confident and ok talking about it, we honestly still are hesitant to do so for two main reasons.

One, being a simple lack of motivation to do so as it doesn't really come up and we don't really think about it more than we have to and often when we have to its usually not a place of mind we have the spoons to talk about it - ya know, normal healthy things.

The second though is because we've really come to learn that a lot of people in online trauma and dissociative communities really don't understand a lot of the largest and foundational themes of the trauma we went through and in my experience in the community, more often than not the response I've gotten from sharing that sort of things have always been more uncomfortable at best than helpful or positive.

And I think there are like... maybe three main things about our childhood core trauma that just make it hard to talk about with the tone of the community + the general heavily white area. This isn't meant to be like "oh you are bad if you fall into this" or anything, I don't have any ill intent or "call out" to really anyone even those who might heavily contribute to this cause its not that much talked on afaik. Mostly talking about this in a sort of, I guess commentary? I dunno, food for thought I guess.

But the first area...

as you might expect from this post and some previous ones, is that due to the fact that the community is heavily white-person run and driven and filled with many white peers, a lot of the talk and understanding of "trauma" and what kind of "chronic childhood trauma" typically looks like to form DID is informed by a white and western standard of trauma. And that isn't to say it is WRONG or BAD, but it makes it so that there is an inherent understanding that anything that differs from that is typically "better" rather than looking at the differences in a large scale cultural-context lens. And this sort of stuff has on MULTIPLE occasions had people respond to me venting or sighing about trauma-related stuff and stating that they wish they had that growing up - which I absolutely understand but it is OBVIOUSLY intensely insensitive and lacking in insight. I don't think any of those people who made those comments MEANT bad, but the nature of the discussion of trauma in these spaces being so heavily white centric and run has made it so that people forget to take culture into account and over simplify trauma into this "A is bad and B is - even when bad as well - inherently better". There is probably a level of classism / assumptions based on class as well somewhere in there, but thats a line of thought I hadn't thought much on past just a "yeah that probably plays a role".

(CW: RAMCOA related topics, CSA, etc)

The second...

is that our relationship with our sister falls awkwardly into the "not programming" in the sense of it's scale and intensity, but it would also be incredibly understated to just call it "conditioning" either and this might just be a "my feelings" on the matter than an actual reflection of the community, but I do often feel as though the nature of it not being either would result in it either being minimized OR people assuming I am trying to claim that I have the same thing as those that experienced programming and its just a really awkward place to be in. There is a lot of black and white talk regarding psychological abuse perpetuated by a person in power who has knowledge of DID and toyed with you as an experiment and project by intentionally learning to manipulate the parts. It wasn't at all the same level of proper RAMCOA, but it also was not just "conditioned learning" as our dissociation was actively targeted as a mechanism to create an unquestioning pet - that of which ended off getting pettled off to the a pedophile.

The complexity and nuances of the trauma and relationship we had with our sister like that combined with the very black and white language regarding trauma talk of that kind has made it just really awkward to try to explain to people because its really not either but as far as I know there isn't a term for whatever it was either. While chatting with a part (forgot which honestly whoops) we were thinking of officially just making our own term of like "trained" but idk, we aren't the coining type of folk so *shrugs*

(CW: CLEARED)

The third area...

Is just how messy and black and white the talk around autism. To those that haven't followed this blog from the earliest of early days, it might seem as though we were recently diagnosed with autism (technically true) and thats it and all, but autism has been a HUGELY prevalent part of our childhood and trauma history and honestly none of it really fits into the common narratives in PTSD / CDD spaces.

Firstly, we were neither really "early diagnosed" OR "late diagnosed" as our parents and my oldest sister (who was early diagnosed) noticed it EARLY on and immediately shaped my entire life around my "Aspergers" diagnosis that I was told I had when I actually never saw a professional for. Regardless, to my knowledge, I was diagnosed with aspergers from age 4 until they changed it to ASD and I asked my mom about it again at 15 or 16 when I started seeing a therapist and found out she never actually had me formally diagnosed. I then became "undiagnosable" due to the disorders that they COULD confirm, plus the weird relationship with my sister, and that I was raised in a "heavily autistic environment" where it was very plausible that I simply learned autistic behaviors as - at the time, thank you DID - I was too high functioning / masking and didn't appear to have significant impairment in any other areas other than being "a bit weird" in terms of how I view society and behavior again, both of which could be accounted for by environment + C-PTSD. It wasn't until well after I cleared stabilization for DID and undid a lot of the intense training our sister put us through, did our masking drastically decrease and it became apparent that yeah, we actually are largely impacted by ASD which ended up with us in the last few months being diagnosed. We were diagnosed early, undiagnosed, labeled "can not confirm nor deny if this is ASD", then diagnosed late, all simultaneously and so we don't really know where our word would fall in the general pecking order of "which group does your experiences fall into".

The OTHER thing is that our two primary abusers were autistic and their autism WAS inherently a part of the trauma that we went through and a lot of the talk of autism on the internet is so 'low supports needs' centric and sugar coated that it is very hard to feel comfortable commenting on how actually ugly and harmful autism can be to the individual AND those around them. This isn't to say its Autistic Abuse or any of that garbage, but my abusers autism is not a negligible or coincidental aspect of their abuse. It didn't make them an abuser, but it was still a large part of it.

(CW: Physical abuse and neglect)

My dad is confusing for 5000 reasons and anyone whose had DMs with me for over a year will know I sometimes share some of the REALLY confusing things about my dad (pretty sure he has DID as well but thats a conspiracy theory), but between his cultural trauma, coming from a """third world""" country, and having missed out on certain learning targets growing up due to the aforementioned first two - he has never been given the information, coping skills, treatment, or context to handle his symptoms in anything close to a healthy way. Its only now that hes (I think) in his 60s that my mom got a better understanding of everything that he's gotten any support, but with the sheer lack of assistance in his childhood, teenage years, and adulthood, its both a large task and honestly arguably not fair on him to try to get him to understand it beyond what is necessary to give him a life worth living.

But again, he had no ability and no tools to navigate his symptoms due to his complex and unfortunate situation and he absolutely did the best he could with what he had. Some parts in the system don't forgive him, but almost all of them understand and respect the intent at least. For example, we were poorly fed (and when we were it was usually garbage; think KFC 5/7 days a week for dinner) until we were 16 and able to drag the family into actually cooking because my dad would get into violent and aggressive meltdowns over ANY food smells, ANY mess, and ANY warmth. Cooking was basically forbidden until then because everyone was too afraid to risk it. Like there is a lot more to that, but its not something I'm given as clear access to and I aint gonna pry, but most of the most abusive behavior from him could very much be stemmed down to a sensory or communication issue regarding his untreated autism and a lack of ability to cope with it resulting in violent meltdowns.

(CW: CLEARED)

(CW: ABA)

Likewise, my sister who had been given ABA, from a young age taught me "how to survive in the world as an autistic person" and directly passed on HER version of ABA and HER understanding of autism onto me, which was just a garbage, intentional or not, way to excuse making me into her pet project rather than actually coping with her own trauma. (Plus 95% of the "information" she "taught" me was garbage including the infamous "having multiple consciousnesses in your head is a normal autism thing as long as there are less than 5" that I clown on every other day)

(CW: CLEARED)

I dunno really how to wrap this up, its like a conglomeration of thoughts we had today so its not really well organized but like... I guess AHEM *puts on my highschool english essay hat*

And so I conclude my essay on *checks notes* reasons I feel weird talking about trauma in online spaces? I think thats the point of this post? Idk I'm just rambling XD

#alter: riku #riku rambles #long post #trauma talk #syscourse tw #aba tw #physical abuse tw #neglect tw #ramcoa cw #cw ramcoa #psychological abuse tw #csa tw

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alba17 · 1 year

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John and Borderline Personality Disorder: My Pet Theory

This quote fits my pet theory that John had Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). I know some people don't like this sort of psychoanalyzing or diagnosing famous people. In John's case, I think it helps explain a lot of his irrational behavior.

To simplify, people with BPD usually have a "favorite person," whom they latch onto to create a sense of self because they feel empty inside and have no innate sense of identity. They look to others to provide it. Paul was John's favorite person until he switched to Yoko. (The million dollar question is why he did that. #something happened in India.)

People with BPD need constant attention and validation, specifically from their favorite person. They have intense emotions that are difficult to manage unless they learn specific coping skills in therapy (e.g. DBT, dialectical behavior therapy, which was developed in the 80's). They are highly sensitive to feelings of rejection. They take everything personally and interpret behavior as rejection when healthy people would not. These feelings of rejection can be overwhelming and obsessive.

TW: Suicide for discussion under cut.

Like John, a large proportion of people with BPD experienced childhood trauma. Like John, they often try to manage their overwhelming emotions with substance abuse (and/or self-harm). Suicidal ideation and attempts are also common. Based on his songs, it's likely that John felt suicidal at times.

The quote above demonstrates John's need for validation from the other Beatles, mostly from Paul. He wants Paul to come to him and ask him to write songs, to show John that Paul needs him. Think about that for a moment. It's ridiculous, right? John's job is to write and perform songs. Why does he need The Beatles Paul to ask him to do that? It doesn't make any sense to a mentally healthy person. But for a person with BPD, it makes total sense. The favorite person has to constantly demonstrate their love or else it doesn't exist. He's basically blackmailing Paul by withholding his songwriting efforts until Paul gives him the attention and love he seeks. John sees Paul's failure to ask as rejection. He's constantly on guard and looking for signs of rejection.

"Write some more 'cause we like your work." WHAT? in 1969, he needs the other Beatles Paul to tell John he likes his work? After 10 plus years of songwriting together and as one of the most successful groups in the history of pop music? That's mind-blowing. That makes no sense and sounds crazy. But it shows how little sense of self and self-worth John has. In DBT lingo, he needs to "check the facts" to get some perspective and reduce the intensity of his feelings of worthlessness and rejection.

John has an internal story about himself through which he filters and tries to make sense of the world: "I'm worthless and I don't even truly exist unless my favorite person constantly validates me." Probably Paul's abundant creativity at this time and the competitive aspect of their relationship increased John's need for validation. Perhaps he ultimately had to wrench himself away from Paul as his favorite person because the dissonance became too great between Paul as his competitor against whom he couldn't win in the songwriting contest (as drugs took over his life), and Paul as his favorite person from whom he needed constant attention and validation.

Obviously you can see how John and Yoko's relationship fulfilled his BPD needs given their total enmeshment. It wasn't healthy and it probably would've been better for him to be with someone who could hold boundaries. But that's another topic.

I guess I have to put a caveat that I'm not trying to put him down. Mental illness is an illness just like cancer or a virus. You have no control over it. It's just striking how well BPD fits John and I think it helps in understanding his weird behavior and patterns. And ultimately, even why The Beatles broke up. BPD is a horrible condition and very difficult to live with, both for the sufferer and their loved ones. The suicide rate is actually pretty high. I speak from personal experience. I wish he'd been able to get the help he needed. DBT is the major therapeutic method for helping people with BPD and it wasn't developed until the 80's.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#John Lennon #the Beatles #Beatles analysis #Paul mccartney #armchair psychology #borderline personality disorder #diagnosing John Lennon

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 1 year

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TW for brief mention of gaslighting and demonization

I just realized something about my OCD and I'd like to know if this is common for those who have it :0

So basically I noticed that because of my trauma, I'm very detached from my emotions and I'm also lacking empathy most of the time. I'm very used to emotions that feel like colors behind a sort of grey filter.

My OCD symptoms include awful intrusive thougts about my character, fear that I am actually horrible, an abuser, a predator ect.

And I've noticed that the intrusive thougts seem to "fill" the space where I'm supposed to have "more" emotions. I have a lot of trauma where I was demonized, gaslit about my own feelings & intentions, ect. I'm also autistic, so that got me misunderstood a lot.

So if I don't feel a lot, I guess it would make sense that I'd start to wonder if there is another hidden feeling that makes me a monster or something.

I hope this makes sense, I'm still not great at understanding a lot of ways in which my trauma manifests itself :v

Hi anon,

It sounds like being autistic, having OCD, and enduring trauma that involved feeling like it was wrong to express your emotions, all influence why you may have trouble being in touch with your emotions. Please know you're not alone, I'm also autistic, have OCD, and trauma involving gaslighting and demonizing of emotions, and I consider myself emotionally amnesic (I'm thankfully reaching a point where I'm allowing myself to feel).

I would personally recommend looking into a therapist if that is an option for you. You deserve the care and feedback from a professional who can help you with your OCD symptoms, trauma, and potential emotional amnesia. Please know that you're not a monster for dealing with these things. You're a survivor and you're dealing with multiple things that could potentially be affecting your emotions.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw abuse #tw emotional abuse

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jannelbabblessims · 2 years

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Poppy Diaries: Part 11 (Season Finale) – The Last Straw

TW: Lots of swearing

~*~*~*~*~~*~*~

—-Poppy—-

My head was throbbing. I awoke to the sharp throbbing pain and could no longer stay laying down. The nausea hitting me so hard I could barely move at all. Everything felt like it was on fire. My head especially…

What happened? Everything feels so out of place, unfamiliar. The bed I am on is definitely not my own…The air smelt so stale in here as well…Everything was just off…

I opened my tired eyes and was surprised to find I was for sure not in my own room, this place was much smaller and the bed I was one was tiny and lumpy. How did I get here?

I remembered faintly of being walked out of my greenhouse after I was attacked by that beastly bitch. Why was she there in the first place….Because of Lou? Whatever the case, I needed to get answers from him.

“You’re finally awake,” a soft voice called out from in front of me, “That’s really good to see.”

Confusion washed over me like a bucket of cold water, who was this person? She sounded familiar…

“Gia,” she responded, as if reading my confusion, “Me and Jacob were the ones to bring you two here.”

Immediately panic slammed into my body, Jasper.. How could I be so stupid to not be up and immediately rushing to find him. Ever since that attack everything had been super blurry and painful, not once have I seen his sweet face since..

I quickly push myself up to a seated position. nausea continued to push itself up my stomach. Black spots started to form in my eyes as pain surfaced around my entire head, filtering down my neck.

“Don’t be too crazy about moving,” Gia hissed through her teeth, empathy shining brightly in her eyes, “ You have been out for days, you need to give your body time to adjust to your movements. It shouldn’t take that much longer to heal now that you’re awake.”

I tried to move again, ignoring her warning. I moved to push myself from the bed, just to be taken down by the pain once more. I pushed my fingers to my temple, trying to ease the pain.

“ A stubborn one you are,” she laughed out quickly, “ Well that’s good, cuz you’re gonna need it. But for now please just take it easy.”

“My son,” I croaked out, my voice hoarse as I tried to speak again, “ Where did you take my son?!”

The girl, Gia, took a step closer, cautious in her movements. Clearly she didn’t want to upset me even more.

“ Easy Poppy, He’s safe, with the rest of the pack right now even. Playing and bossing them around. He’s quite a delight if you ask me. We all enjoy his presence here.” She smiled, crossing her hands across her chest, “ He’s really making a good impact on all of us.”

A small smile escaped me, even after all the trauma that is slowly slinking it’s way back into my mind, I couldn’t help but smile at that, leave it to Jasper to win the hearts of strangers.

I heaved a big shaky sigh, tears threatening to spill. My emotions felt so out of control, everything did. Everything felt amplified and brighter. Sounds seemed louder, I could even hear the distinct sound of Jasper’s laughing in the distance. This was all so strange, the world felt so different.

I lowered my head, pushing my hands to my temples in a massaging manner. The pain, like everything else, felt ten times worse.

“Don’t worry,” Gia reassured, “There’s no need to rush, we got time, you need to take it slow . Soon you can meet the rest of the pack and settle in better.”

Pack? Wait, does that mean what I think it does?

“I’m a monster,” I shakily whispered, “ A fucking beast.”

“It may feel like that at first,” Gia dropped her gaze to her hands, “But in time, with us, you’ll feel so much better about everything. If it wasn’t for Kristopher, I don’t know where I would be.”

I looked to her with sympathy. This poor girl was just doing her best to help me. While her heart broke speaking about her own experience, guessing it wasn’t exactly a fairy tale.

The thing I couldn’t understand was why me? Was it because of Lou? The girl who attacked me seemed to know him.. Was he behind this?

Now I was a werewolf. Something I only ever heard of in movies or books. A werewolf. Will I turn into a dog? Will I eat dead things? Will I shed?

“Why me..” I stammered, confusion causing the words to tumble out, “Why did this happen to me?”

“Well for most, it’s the case of wrong place wrong time… but for you.. it’s a little bit different. It seems the Wildfangs have an agenda of some sort.”

I looked at Gia, frowning at her words.

“Kristopher should be present before I explain, and the other pack members. Why don’t we take you to the main house and see Jasper if you’re feeling up to move now?”

I shifted slightly and stretched out my limbs. After a little adjustment, I was feeling much better to stand up and move. The fire in my muscles lessened and I could easily move without extreme pain. That’ll do. Time to see my baby.

“Ok I think I am ready.”

Gia nodded as I moved for the door.

“The main house is to the right here, we wanted to make sure you had the privacy and space in case anything happened.”

I nodded my thanks as we entered through the side door of the main house.

Once inside we stepped through the kitchen and into the living room. Jasper was playing with a tall man with long dreadlocks. The man laughed as Jasper reached his hands up screaming at him. Toys were sprawled everywhere as well as some new stuff I haven’t seen before, Stuffed animals, a toy box, and a stack of books littered the room. Boy was he taken care of.

“Again! Again! Please Jac please! I wanna play airplane!”

Jacob smiled down at Jasper, amusement splattered all across his face. He looked up, seeing me and smiling bigger.

“I will do it again, but only if you turn around.”

Immediately Jasper clumsily spun around. Surprise enveloped his face, turning his cheeks bright red as he saw me and he barreled to my legs, Squeezing tightly.

“Mama!” He screamed, tears pouring down his face, I bent down to catch him in a big hug, “ you’re awake!”

“I am my love,” I croaked out, my throat thick with emotion. I missed him so much.

“Jac said you’re a Disney princess, the one who needed to sleep, but when I asked if I could give you kisses to wake you up, he said it won’t work cuz mommy needed her beauty sleep to be big and strong to plane the airplane game with me too!”

I smiled at this, Jasper was talking so fast and in more sentences, how many days has gone by?

I lifted Jasper into my arms, hugging him close, “ Jacob is very right, I needed lots and lots of sleep, but now that I am awake I could use all of my little prince’s kisses!”

Jasper laughed and placed a big sloppy kiss on my cheek.

“Now we need to tell Jac thank you for letting him be bossed around by you.” Jasper giggled and smiled a big toothy grin.

“Thankkkkkkksssssss you Jac!” He screamed. Causing laughs to erupt from Gia and Jacob.

I nodded my head lightly to Jacob, “Thank you so much for taking care of him, and for saving us.”

Jacob stepped over to us, offering a big welcoming smile. “He’s been a joy to spend time with here, I hope you will start to feel as welcomed as he does now.”

I returned his smile with my own. A few minutes in this home and already I was feeling a bit calmer than I have in awhile. This whole ordeal has been a huge mess and for once it was nice to have a bit of comfort.

A man with long hair entered the room, The air in the room suddenly felt thicker, for some reason I felt a sense of authority rushing from him, immediately making me step back.

I looked closer to see he had a very strong build, a nicely chiseled face and deep dark brown eyes, a scar running down the right side of his face. While some may find this man intimidating, I was slightly drawn to him. He smiled warmly at me.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he greeted, “ You’re safe here and welcomed.”

He stepped closer and smiled to us. “My son has done well in entertaining your son while Gia has spent nights taking care of you. I’m glad to see it has all paid off and you’re looking well.

Was that a compliment? I wasn’t sure..

“However, I have to bring some important news to your attention, it seems your boyfriend is in search of you and is threatening force to get to you both. He is outside right now.”

My heart dropped at the thought of Lou being just outside. Was I even ready to talk to him? What would I even say….

“ I can send him away,” he offered, “ He is technically breaking our sacred rule of neutrality of the packs by trespassing but because of his tie to you, I wanted to be courteous and ask.”

I nodded at his polite offer, everyone here was being so careful and kind to me and now he was here to disrupt it. I wanted to send him away so badly for disturbing my peace before I was ready, but it needed to be done.

“ I will take care of it, I just need to change.”

“I have some extra clothes for you,” Gia stood up from her chair to lead me out of the room, “ let me show you where you can clean up.

———————-

Outside

As soon as I opened the door I was immediately pulled into a hug by a pair of strong tanned arms, Lou. His face was drenched in sweat from being in the hot sun, he face marred with worry lines. He looked frantic as he pulled me back and looked me up and down.

“Pops I have been looking for you for days now, are you ok?” Concern laced his voice as he checked me over. Patting my arms and legs, tugging on parts of my clothes. When he reached my injured shoulder, I yelped.

“Ow, please dont.” I swatted his hands away. Not only from the pain but the need for space to be able to talk.

Things didn’t feel right and I really didn’t know how to even start this.

Lou sighed and stepped back. Feeling the tension he lowered his head and messed with his wrist.

“She did turn you…” He whispered, voice thick from regret,” I thought she was bluffing, but I can smell the change….”

“So you knew her after all? Who the fuck is she Lou? Why the fuck did she do this to me?”

He looked away, avoiding my gaze, “To hurt me….She’s apart of my pack and I think she wanted to prove a point to my mistakes.”

After hearing that, we stood in silence…I couldn’t say a word…Frozen by what he was saying. This girl from his pack intentionally attacked me to prove a point to him?

“There’s a lot I intended to tell you,” he started, voice trailing as he thought out what to say, “I just didn’t know how to break this to you..”

“The fact you’re a beast of some sort?” I bit out in anger, “ Or that you have people who are out to get me? To turn me into something like you? These weren’t important things to bring up in the midst of our playing house?That you’re a fucking animal?!”

I grabbed my arm unconsciously, the arm that now carried the scars from the attack. It burned slightly still but a constant reminder of everything, my new life now..

“Your pack didn’t tell you about me being attacked in my own yard? Some girl came looking for you and the next minute turned into this big ass humanoid dog and fucking bit me!”

“ I had no fucking idea they would go this far…Terra isn’t the type to take such risks.”

“STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT HER SO CASUALLY, SHE RUINED MY LIFE! YOU RUINED MY LIFE!”

Suddenly the air felt different. I don’t know if it was me or him or even both of us but there was some sort of build-up that was happening that I couldn’t explain. This was being to heighten my senses. I could almost smell the anger swirling around us in some invisible battle.

“Pops we both need to try and talk through this calmly,” Lou ground out, “ You’re too new to this, you need to not lose control.”

Anger swelled within me, “What the fuck is that suppose to mean Lou? What the fuck does this all mean now? You left me in the dark with the whole other world you live in, and now I’m involved and Jasper… what about him! Is he gonna be one too?”

Lou looked down in what I assumed was guilt, his hands balled at his sides, containing the anger building in him.

My heart broke. My poor sweet baby, how was this going to work for him?

“I have been watching him…And can confirm that he has the werewolf gene,” Lou sighed deeply, “Luckily for him he’s born with it which will make the transformation much more natural for him when the time comes.”

What. The. Fuck.

He’s talking like all of this is fucking okay?!

“I can’t fucking believe you. Putting us at risk like this, now a group of aggressive werewolves are after us? This very same group you run with?”

He ducked his head further down, “Yes… but I had this all figured out, I was going to get the cure for him before they decided to exile us. Things would go back to normal..”

“Exile us!” Panic mixed with my already brewing anger, “ They we’re going to get rid of us? If you didn’t provide this mysterious cure?”

“ I was taking care of everything! I wanted to protect my family..”

” Pfft, family my ass,” I sputtered and shook my head angrily, “Some fucking help that was.”

The mysterious build-up felt increasingly charged between us. Something within me was close to the surface, a feeling of such anger that needed to be let loose, but the fear within me was keeping it at bay.. for now.

“You act like I knew this was all going to happen,” He growled out “And If your easy ass didn’t come and jump me that night then none of this would’ve happened in the first place!”

My heart wrenched at his hurtful words. After everything and bringing Jasper into this world, I at least believed he was content with where things were going. Now with knowing the fact he was hiding all this since day one and thinking to blame me for everything, where did he think he was going with this? Did he really think he was saving us?

” Are you fucking kidding me?” I sneered in disgust, ” Calling me easy is one thing, you hid an entire mythical life from me! And now because of this, you’re putting Jasper and my life on the line, just so you could what? Pretend to be a boring mysterious human? To think I was falling for you!”

He froze, completely silent. Guess he didn’t know how I felt after all..

Tears started to well in my eyes, this was beginning to be too much for me.” I can’t do this Lou, I really can’t. You need to go, Jasper and I will figure life out without you. This pack here, they actually want to help us and are not trying to exile us.”

I opened the front door and closed it quickly, blocking any time for continuing the conversation or looking at his face. Leaning against the door I finally let my tears fall, letting everything loose. I needed to gather my thoughts and stay away from him.

“This isn’t over Pops, You can’t do this without me!” He screamed, violently pounding on the door and shouting more and more. His anger fueled with each punch. Desperation filled his voice as he continued to call for me

My heart clenched, part of me wanted to open the door back up and try to talk again, but I just couldn’t move.

“You will not take my life from me dammit!” He screamed from outside the door, followed by silence….

Minutes continued on before he attempted to speak again.

“I will make things right Pops, I swear it…” Finally, after no attempts on opening the door were made, Lou stormed off.

I closed my eyes and let out shaky sobs. Everything felt like it was hurting again, the hold had on myself was slowly dwindling, I felt myself losing control. something building within me…

“Take some deep breaths Poppy,” A soothing deep voice cooed, instantly calming me, “Don’t let your fury consume you.”

“My what?” I looked up to see Kristopher, looking down at me with his arms crossed. Again his aura bringing a rush of relaxation my way, I could feel everything start to loosen in my body.

“Your fury, every werewolf has it, and when we reach a certain point we lose control and rampage, destroying everything in our paths,” He pointed his deep brown eyes at me, hypnotizingly, “We can’t have you lose control while untrained, it could hurt Jasper.”

Immediately my heart tugged at the thought of Jasper. I could never do that.

“Please help me..” I begged, tears streaming rapidly down my face, “I have no one to help me with this, I don’t know what to do.”

Kristopher knelt down slowly, putting a gentle hand to my knee, a soft rumble in his chest could be heard, causing soothing tingles to rush through my body and instantly calm me once again. Weird but at this moment very reassuring. How can he be doing this?

“You’re safe with us here, It may not seem obvious yet but we have all decided as a pack to offer you both a place within our pack, and with that, you’ll be protected by us and anything that may become a threat to you.”

I nodded my head to him, taking a deep breath and trying to center myself. For once in my life, I felt safe.

“We will give you time to recover from everything, but in a few days time we will need to discuss things and get you ready for training to be able to handle your fury.”

Answers, I would finally have answers to this whole new world I was in…

~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~

Back at the Moonwood mill Bar: Thirsty Nick’s

—Lou—-

She fucking shut me out. She shut me out, took my child and now I couldn’t even face the pack now, I wasn’t ready to be exiled from this fucking mess. The pack wasn’t even worth trusting at this point anyways, I needed to lie low.

Let’s be real though, I truly fucked up… When I should’ve been trying to reason with her, I lost my temper and went off on her, now she wont even speak to me.

How did the pack come to this? Something I would’ve fought anything for was now something I needed to hide from…Pathetic…

Who the fuck am I anymore?

I trudged my way into the bar, the very same bar I just ventured into the other day. And like that day, Selene was there cleaning up the bar, just like last time. A twinge of relief swelled in my chest, somewhere I could collect my thoughts and maybe talk to someone about all this.

“Back so soon eh?” She called out, a smile toying on her lips as she cleaned the bar counter with a dusty rag. As I approached her smile dropped into a frown, “What happened?”

“Terra fucking happened,” I spat, dropping into a bar stool, “That bitch ruined my life before I had the chance to speak to Poppy…..”

“She tattle?” Selene questioned, “That’s gotta be a bit traumatizing for that poor girl, how did she take it?”

“Worse,” I groaned, “She turned her.”

“Shit…Well then,” Selene reached for a liquor bottle and a glass, “You’re gonna need a drink, on the house.”

As she continued making my drink I thought about the pack again, how fucked up everything has been with them. I couldn’t even step foot back on their territory right now.. This sounded like a weak move but I needed to buy some time. I needed to figure out their motives as well, Who exactly was behind the attack. Terra was not motivated enough to plan that on her own.

“Speaking of on the house, Care for a roommate?”

[Season Finale!]

A/N: So much to unpack!!! What do you think is going to happen?

A Huge thank you to everyone who has been following along through this series, I do plan to continue the series but do need a brief break but have so much to plan out for this series Don’t worry! It will continue!! I love it too much to stop!

#sims #sims 4 legacy #sims story #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 stories #sims 4 storyline #sims 4 werewolves #sims 4 screenshots

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sambunnysgrave · 6 months

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i. Introduction

Hello all, my name is Sam. I’m an 18 year old trans guy living in the southern United States as a 2nd generation immigrant. English is my 2nd language. I’m gay, jewish, and disabled mentally as well as physically.

I am a survivor of csa and ramcoa. The specificities of my trauma aren’t something I feel any obligation to explain, nor are the exact details of my health. Block me if you have a problem with that.

I don’t intend to get into identity politics on here, just sharing what I feel is important context about myself.

ii. Thesis

This account is just a journal, more or less.

I’ve always loved to read peoples public journals, especially people dealing with marginalization or trauma that I can relate to. These people experience life through the same lenses I do. Unlike the accepted definition of humanity in this day, these people are still fighting to survive.

It’s beautiful in a morbid way, I think, to watch people survive. It’s fascinating. It unearths a primal feeling.

If you’re reading this, then consider this a log of the most impressive thing Man has ever done: survive.

iii. Tags

Here’s a list of the tags I plan to use frequently on this account. This list is subject to change.

🐇::꒰ ❛Sam’s Grave❜ ꒱

general tag for when I have anything to say

🕊️::꒰ ❛Dead Dove❜ ꒱

catchall tw tag

🖤::꒰ ❛Long Post❜ ꒱

for my long posts

🫀::꒰ ❛Yearning❜ ꒱

loveposting tag that may get nsfw (please block if under 18 or uncomfortable)

🪓::꒰ ❛Lyrics❜ ꒱

lyric spam tag for your spam-filtering convenience

🩸::꒰ ❛Vent❜ ꒱

venting tag (for heavy venting; again, please block if you’re uncomfortable)

🦷::꒰ ❛Brainweird❜ ꒱

mental illness/mental health content

🍷::꒰ ❛Art❜ ꒱

for my art, probably doodles or poetry

🥩::꒰ ❛Silly❜ ꒱

lighthearted/silly content

iv. Content Warnings

I am psychotic and often unable to tw for unreality or delusions.

I use slurs to refer to myself. I will not tw for my identity.

I do not tw “creepy” or “unsettling” content. If there is a specific thing to warn for, I will. Otherwise, expect this whole blog to be a bit weird.

I love blocking people, and you should too. If you don’t want to see my content, you don’t need to tell me that. You can just block. It’s okay, I promise.

v. DNI

Because every blog needs a DNI, right?

Honestly, just DNI if you don’t want to interact with me. That’s about it. Other than that, here are some general guidelines, I guess.

I am a proshipper, I believe that people should be allowed to post whatever gross shit they want on the internet if they tag it right. Doesn’t mean I enjoy consuming most “proship” content, I just don’t think it’s my business what other people do. If you disagree with that, we probably won’t get along.

I support informed self diagnosis.

I support non-traumagenic systems (coming from a traumagenic system).

9 times out of 10, I don’t want to hear about drama. If you post about drama untagged, we probably won’t get along.

Interpret that as you will. I don’t really have a hard DNI.

vi. Closing Statement

If you’ve read this and still want to look at my content, then please, feel free to browse. Follow if you like what you see. Talk to me if you think we’d get along. I love meeting people :]

If you do plan to stick around, then hi. Glad you decided to stop by.

#🐇::꒰ ❛Sam’s Grave❜ ꒱#🖤::꒰ ❛Long Post❜ ꒱

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the-resurrection-3d · 2 years

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Fic writer questions: 2, 4 (you choose fic), 9, 41, 48, 49

Sorry this took so long! TW: rape mentions.

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

Post-Canon (16/81 Fics), Fluff (13/81), Hurt/Comfort (10/81), Aged-Up Character(s) (7/81), and Angst (6/81).

I think this is more indicative of me under-tagging certain things. Like, "you're a crisis of my faith" isn't tagged for angst despite being a fic entirely about rape trauma. With Fluff, though, it's just... harder to think of tags that fit. Do I really need to tag hugging and cuddling and pet names? Arguably yes, but you can also file all of that under "fluff" and everyone still knows what you mean.

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

Speaking of YACOMF, I really like the opening lines,

And here is where it ends: face down on a grave while Belos fucks her like a dog. The words and the pain and the weak little Palisman squeaks are all distant, but the smell of hairspray and glue is louder than God.

I wanted to emphasize how Luz is trying to distance herself from what's happening, hence also lines like "Her body only her hands in the dirt and her face in the wig her mother had bought for her off the internet." I really wanted to have some kind of focus on the mundane externalities and not so much on the actual physical feeling of what's happening to her, mostly because I'm honestly very, very tired of fics that try to present rape for horror yet write it in the exact same way someone would write it for smut, with the same blow-by-blow voyeurism. I'm not upset at anyone who does this, and I understand the larger reasons why it happens, but if I can be completely honest, it's fucking boring to me at this point. As soon as the scene starts I know literally everything that is going to happen, right down to the word choices. Why is this scene 5,000 words again? They got raped and got a bit of a boner and now they're sad and confused. Let's move on.

Arguably, I didn't do enough, and I'm not trying to act like I'm some masterful writer breaking new ground, but I do think having more particular, mundane details adds more to the horror than the blood and guts. A lot of my horror writing is informed by this idea of "going cold," which Dylan Landis did a great write-up on for Brevity. (Tw: csa, rape, suicide.)

9. How do you find new fic to read?

Y'all can read?

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Several fics have been pretty influential on my writing style: the biggest ones I keep consciously returning to are "could not erase it" by Kali Cephirot, which I've used as inspiration for both el dickchompo three and a published essay of mine, and Eden by obsessmuch, which I constantly plagari--- I MEAN, embed references to in my works. The "louder than God" phrase in "you're a crisis of my faith"? You guessed it.

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

According to my ao3 history, basically all the fics I've read this last six months are trash-tier porn fics that I don't even actually "read," but pick apart and use as a base for me to then paint over with the characters I'm actually interested in. "Textual poaching" at its most literal. There's no point linking any because they're all bad and I'm only """"""reading""""" them because my growing taste for extreme kinks means the amount of good fic available to me is constantly shrinking. Most people can't even get gangbangs right! I live in Hell.

That being said, Rodion @lukebeartoe is writing a [REDACTED] for the tennis team AU and every time he shares a snippet it makes me want to bite things. He writes good stuff! Sometimes without even mentioning Nick!

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Well, last night I wrote some Nickberto, but that's for a personal AU and thus will make literally no sense to all but a select few of you. since we've talked about "crisis" so much, I might as well share what I have written of Part 2:

Flapjack gives himself for Hunter’s chance at a better ending. That part always stays the same. What’s different now are the eyes staring back at her, one brown and one hollowed out. What’s different now is the twist of guilt in her chest like a knife—no, a sword—no, a black hole that will make the sun rising tomorrow feel obscene. What’s different now is that her mother and her girlfriend and her friends all arrive and can see that she’s forgotten to tuck Hunter’s cock back into his pants.

Ask me questions about my fics!

#2d nonsense #2d asks

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areuserious · 2 years

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(i don't ship period for exactly these bullshit arguments) did u know that like. people can be friends with people for a lot of reasons. i have friends who ship stuff i'm uncomfortable with (incl. batcest) we just like, don't talk about it. that's it. it's easy. and they ARE survivors (yes i have multiple friends like this IRL) like, maybe you need to go touch grass. my IRL friends got sent r@pe threats for writing things to cope with their trauma and they DID cw/tw for it so like. it's just exhausting to see this argument, i had to distance myself from my IRL friends in the online sphere because they lumped me in with "proshippers" nonsense. it's so dumb. i don't care, no one who's actually an adult gives a fuck. does it skeeve me out? yeah. but like people have... more than one interest and more than one reason that others enjoy hanging out with them. but then u get online and it all gets boiled down to "shipping" and it's like. exhausting. people just don't know how to interact online i s2g. get over urself. just hit the back or block button it's no that hard? same as i'm doing to u because i'm tired of seeing these fights on my dash, they bring up bad memories. like, ur responsible for what you consume online. ur a fucking adult. if u don't like something just like. ignore it. idfk. it's just pixels on a screen it's not that deep. art has always had upsetting content and it's ur job to consume or not consume it, same as like, idfk horror or whatever. i don't talk about grindhouse w my friends and they don't talk about batcest with me and it's golden, we are still friends. it doesn't fuckin matter once you log off. we still order pizza together and find movies we can agree on and do tarot readings like Who The Fuck Cares, only you actually.

i am not going to send r-pe threats to anyone actually fun fact? its not my fault that some weird puritanical antis sent u death threats so idk why youre framing it like its my fault when im not an anti, i just stated that i find it weird

ok so ur an adult and you said most adults dont care but why send a paragraph to a teenager on tumblr.com explaining how ur ok with being friends with proshippers (nothing wrong with that, i just dont personally want to be friends with proshippers for personal reasons) you clearly care

'it's just pixels on a screen' okay then surely than its ok for people to be sent r@pe threats because it's just pixels on a screen??? this argument is dumb and if it was just pixels on a screen than you wouldnt be so pissed i was stating my opinion :P

not an adult but i can use search functions thats not exclusive to people over the age of 18! but its still weird to me? like even if i filter it on ao3 its still weird to me that people enjoy seeing siblings kiss

ok good for you that ur eating pizza with proshippers i guess! but thats your opinion and i have mine! go off weird internet adult and do what ever the FUCK you want i dont care but why are you turning on anon to annoy me on this bright summer day

yeah idk man. just because you have an opinion does not mean that everyone else shares that opinion and if you went outside and said to like 10 people that you enjoy reading about siblings dating than im pretty sure at least 1 person would be weirded out but maybe thats just me

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nuvemturquesa · 2 years

Text

In The Darkness

Summary: Mina’s life has never been easy. Growing up at Falcone Home and School for Orphans in Gotham it’s a hassle in itself but at sixteen, Mina lost her vision after falling severely ill from a fever. Now in her twenties, after deciding to run away from the Orphanage, Mina makes her way of living pick-pocketing distracted people on the streets of Gotham, trying to hide in the shadows, not knowing what lurks in the darkness.

tw: implied non-con, kidnapping, dark bruce wayne, blind main character, trauma.

Also on my ao3

PART 1

With quick steps, the small brunette made her way through the crowds of people; little ants going and coming back from work, too busy with their own lives to notice the girl with cloudy gray eyes passing by them. An outsider could never have guessed that Mina was incapable of seeing her surroundings as she avoided bumping into people with ease.

Mina Jabocs never bumped into anyone on accident.

By the heavy sounds of the traffic and people around her, combined with flashes of sources of light Mina could still distinguish, she knew she was at the central street of Gotham, probably close to the Wayne Tower.

Shoving her bony hands on the pockets of her dirty yellow hoodie, her fingertips touched what she guessed could be at least $100 in small bills, a watch, one wallet, and a pack of gum.

Mina stopped by a bus stop to shield herself from the rain and decided to pick one last target to call a day.

Sharpening her ears, trying to filter the noise of the heavy traffic to her left and the sea of ordinary people, Mina was searching for keys shackling, people on their phones, or an old man. In the area she found herself, in the center of Gotham, it wouldn't be hard to find a rich old man with a loaded wallet.

Maybe today was her lucky day.

Behind her, a pair of hasty footsteps stood out and a chill ran over her spine. Following her instincts, Mina left the shelter of the bus stop and followed the owner of the footsteps. This person was in a hurry, Mina was almost running trying to follow their pace, but when Mina’s nose could pick up the cologne of the individual, she knew it would be worth it.

It smelled like expensive masculine cologne.

Closing the distance between them was difficult; by the time she got closer to attempt to delicately sway her skinny fingers on the pocket of his coat, the noise from the city was almost gone. Mina figured she must have followed him for a while and they must be far from the movement of central street.

Bad sign.

Calming her breath, Mina put an innocent and confused look on her face and hurried to the stranger. Her fingertips brushed on the wool of his coat but before she could touch anything he was guarding there, a big hand closed around her wrist and yanked the brunette far from it. Losing balance from the surprise of being caught red-handed, the man pulled her arm closer to him, holding Mina by her biceps and pressing the terrified girl to a wall.

“What do you think you are doing?” the masculine voice was deep and raspy, terrifying. He was speaking close to her face, Mina could smell the mint on his breath. She also noticed how strong he was: the grip on her was painful. The only thing she could hear was her own heart pounding in her ears and his angry breathing. Feeling helpless, Mina kept her mouth shut. Keeping her head down, Mina tried her best to hide her face from him. There was no source of light around them, which helped her case.

When the girl gave him silence, he slammed her small body against the wall one more time as a warning. He wanted her to answer his question.

“I-I-I tripped! I was just t-trying to hold onto something!"

“You were trying to shove your hand on my pocket, you little thief!”

That stung her pride, even though it was true.

“I’m blind you idiot, how could you accuse me of being a thief!?”

Mina lifted her head in the direction of where she assumed his face was, letting him take a good look at her cloudy eyes, even an ignorant person could tell she was visually impaired. This trick was the last resource on her sleeve. Mina never liked to victimize herself because of her blindness; for more than three years she was able to fend for herself on the streets of Gotham, but when she was caught on the act like that, it was a good thing to throw into someone's face. Some people took pity on her.

Other people had no problem beating up a blind girl.

The silence between them was tense; his grip was still strong.

Mina felt like the stranger was staring at her face, almost like he was studying her features, his gaze burned her skin. Lowering her head out of fear, Mina finally came back to her senses, feeling her body shiver from the cold and fear.

"P-please don't take me to the station. I will get out of your site and you'll never see me again." Mina pleaded weakly. If she gets arrested one more time, they will probably lock her up for good this time.

The man loosens his grip on her biceps, letting the brunette fall on her butt, right in front of him, at his feet. She could sense him looking at her from above. There was an aura of superiority to him.

He was looking at her like she was a little street rat.

Curling her knees into her chest, Mina closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.

She was sure he was taking her to the station.

Mina's ears picked up hurried steps coming in their direction, then a shaky breath, like this person just came running.

"... I was looking for you everywhere! When you passed the Tower's entrance..."

It was hard to understand what this other man was saying. He had a thick British accent. The voice became louder as the man approached, the footsteps coming to a halt a few feet away from where Mina was sitting.

"Who is this Mr. Wayne?"

Mina's insides went cold.

Wayne.

As in Bruce Wayne.

Before any of the men could do or say anything, the young girl took off running for her life.

The stern look on the heir of Wayne's fortune face was dark, but Alfred has known this boy since childhood; there was a fiery glint on his usually dark and cold eyes.

"I need my suit."

PART TWO

#dark bruce wayne #dark fic #original main character #battison #batman 2022 #robert pattinson #TRIGGER WARNINGS #part one

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justplainwhump · 2 years

Text

Safe.

This is a story about B, more than it's about Dany, because I love him and I love them together.

Highly inspired by and dedicated to @hackles-up and her amazing characters, who live rent free in my heart. B and Ridley are hers and used with permission.

Also, shout out to the wonderful @for-the-love-of-nsfwhump who helped me edit this piece!

[Dany Masterpost]

Tw for pet whump, collars (!), conditioning, trauma response (i guess?), intimate whumper, referenced noncon, multiple whumpees, whumpee as caretaker.

Ridley has me backed up against the bedroom door, his hand in the back of my neck almost intimately, fingers playing with my collar. Outside, the morning sun has risen and is filtering through the bedroom's huge windows behind him, making his tousled auburn hair light up like a halo. That's not the reason I can't look at him, though. It's what he did, what he made me watch, watch and listen to.

B is hurt, his body wrecked from fighting, from doing Ridley's bidding, and still Ridley wanted him this morning. He was brutal, worse than he is most other mornings, and he just did not stop. Not when B shivered and winced in pain, not when I screamed and begged, not even when B collapsed on the bed.

B hasn't moved since. I can see him behind Ridley's shoulder, spread over the bed, his naked skin covered in dark bruises.

"Look. At. Me." Ridley's hand grabs the collar, twists it roughly, and suddenly I can't breathe.

"A good pet takes their punishment without objections, Princess. My good Bee Bee is just happy, taking what his master gives him. We'll get you there, too." His lips are on me, peppering my neck with kisses, right above the collar. His teeth graze my skin, my throat, while I struggle for air. My hands fly up to my throat, to push him away, but his other arm pins me to the door effortlessly.

"You've come far, though. That pathetic begging for me to take you instead? Very good. Tipped me over the edge, actually. We'll have to follow up on this later."

He shoves me back against the door and I sink to my knees, hands on my collar, wheezing. He pulls his phone out of the pocket, checks it once more with a frown and tucks it away. "Huh. Cuddle time with my lovely pets is over now. I've got real work to do. Clean up the dog, Princess. When I return, I want you on the bed, legs spread and ready for me."

A hoarse cough shakes me, but it seems that suffices as an answer. Ridley nudges me aside with his foot, and I numbly follow his unspoken command, crawl over to make way for him to open the door and leave with a happy spring to his steps. The door falls shut behind him, followed by the soft click of the lock.

I stay down for another moment, back leaning to the wall, waiting for the black spots in my vision to settle, for my labored breathing to return to normal. My hands fumble with the collar, finger hooked in it to keep its permanent pressure away from my throat, and to allow myself deep breaths.

Pet.

His pets.

Good pet.

Lovely pet.

Pet.

No.

My hands wander to the back of my neck. No.

I don't even realize what I'm doing, until I look down and see the white leather collar rest in my hands. My collar. Because I'm his pet. Good pet. Good girl.

I crumple it into a ball, the leather soft and worn in my hands.

"I'm not your fucking pet, Ridley Lordin", I whisper. "I'm not a pet."

I toss the collar away in disgust, watch it vanish in the shadows under the bed. Out of my sight. Out of -

A soft whine sounds from the bed, and I look up to meet B's gaze. His eyes are wide, glazed over with pain and fear. Fuck. I need to help him. "I'm so sorry, B", I mumble, staggering to my feet and hurrying over to him. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, I tried. He's too-"

"Dany", B winces. "Please."

Gently, I reach out for him. "I'm here, alright? I'll help-"

He flinches back from my touch. There's panic in his gaze, as he stares at me. Not my eyes. Not my face. My neck. "You can't take it off", he presses. "It's not safe."

"I couldn't breathe", I say. "It's fine. You're injured B, let me check on you, please?"

"No." He shakes his head frantically, tries to push himself up. His muscles are trembling with exhaustion. "Collar is safe. You must be safe."

"You must be safe, B, fuck, he shouldn't even have touched you. Don't move, please, you'll make it worse."

Sweat is glistening on his skin, making his large bruises shine oddly in the morning sun. I don't know what Leo and Ridley did with him the other night, what exactly these fights are they're taking him to, but I know they'll kill him one day, and I don't know what I'll do then. I can't be without B.

I put a hand on B's chest to guide him back to the cushions. It's chilling how much stronger I am than him, right now. I shouldn't be able to hold him up like this. He shouldn't be so weak. Ridley shouldn't even have touched him. Instead he - I feel sick even thinking about it.

B keeps struggling against me, though, despite it all. "Safe", he mumbles. "Owner is safe. Collar is safe. Discipline helps pets..."

"Shhh", I hiss. "Listen, B, you are safe, you've been good for your fucking asshole of an owner, super good, so much better than he deserves, and now we just have to keep you-"

I don't know what it is he does, or how he gathered his strength so quickly, but he's sitting upright, his hands like vices around my wrists. He's staring at me intently, feverishly, and then he shoves me back, and crawls to the side of the bed. I'm not fast enough to reach out for him, as he rolls over the edge and crashes down on the carpet with a soft thud.

"B!" I'm by his side in an instant, wrap my arms around him. His heart is racing in his chest. He has lifted an arm, points at the white leather under the far end of the bed. "The... collar..." He's wheezing, breathing heavily. His voice is fleeting, but he's fighting, desperate. Pleading. "... guarantees the... the pet's safety. Dany."

I can't breathe.

There's no air around me, I'm locked in a vacuum, I'm drowning under the sea, buried in quicksand. Something is pressing on my chest, hard and relentless.

I'm not a pet, something screams inside me, but the voice is muffled. Suffocated.

It doesn't matter what it said. I'm a pet. I'm Ridley's pet, just like B is. I have a collar, just like him.

He is still babbling next to me, weakly, broken, like a mantra, wide green eyes flicking restlessly between my bare neck and the flash of white underneath the bed. His hand is clenched around mine. "Discipline... helps pets... be the best they can be." There's a plea in his voice, interlaced with the panic.

I sob and press his hand firmly.

"I'm sorry", I whisper. Tears are streaming down my face. I don't try to fight them. Instead I get down on my stomach and crawl under the bed.

Behind me, B exhales in relief. My fingers find the collar, the dreaded soft, white leather band, marking me as property. With trembling hands I put it around my neck and fasten it.

"Safe", I hear him mutter. "We're safe."

It doesn't feel like safety. It feels like defeat. And it's not even Ridley himself, who defeats me. It's what he has done, what he paid to have done, to the man that B once was.

When I back out from under the bed, B has already passed out.

#whump #lady whump #pet whump #bbu #collars #noncon reference cw #intimate whumper #ridley lordin #dany #b the guard dog #bany #conditioning

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oc-culture · 2 years

Note

is it cool if I follow you if I’m anti-ship? you don’t have anything romanticizing pedophilia on your blog so I’m fine with it but I wanted to know if you’re ok with it

This is obviously a bait, but I'm biting this one time, want you all to read it and be done with it.

(Tw: Pedophilia, Suicide, Bullying, and Grooming ment.)

I am a non shipper actually and a victim of grooming and pedophilia if you need to know.

So, no. I am not for romanticising pedophilia. I am just for using the block and filter function as it is intentioned.

As long as people don't actually harm children there is no need to call them out. If I don't want to see their stuff, I simply block them and filter their tags.

As a non shipper I do it a lot, also I'm sick of these teenie shipping wars. All the time people get attacked for ships, but more often if the other fraction ships something else (the Avatar shipping wars... Oh dear.), but they are often fine with abuse and toxicity (Cassandra Claire, Twilight, 50 Shades...).

I had and still have friends who were really into shipping back then, and that included all sorts of manga fandom and interestingly enough nobody ever went after the mangaka who made very questionable Shonen-Ai ships canon.

I couldn't bare to see 'pedophilia' and abuse romanticised and distanced myself from all the shipping m

So it has been a while ago that I decided to kinda just ignore all ships, it's like smashing two Barbie dolls together.

And guess what? The friends I still have grew up. They recognise the toxic and 'pedo' ships as what they were, but whether they ship it or nor, found it never okay in real life.

Of course as s survivor there are age gap ships that sometimes make me uncomfortable (I think most of the times that happens if I feel like grooming really was part of the ship), but overall I can very well seperate fiction from reality and are simply anti harassment, as a victim of years of bullying - online and offline.

Good friends of me were suicide baited and bullied for liking fictional characters, just because they were morally grey or evil, when all they did was enjoying the way they were written, not agreeing with their actions.

There is a whole community here just focusing on hurting their OCs (thanks @whump-culture for making me aware), but as long as they don't hurt people emotionally or physically in real life or online, I don't think there is anything wrong with that.

Maybe the ones even recognising the ships as toxic or having a too large age gap: How would you know they aren't coping with their own trauma? Maybe they actually were groomed and trying to rationalise what happened to them. If anything they would need kind words, not a person asking them to kill themselves.

My sister is one of them unfortunately.... Enjoying relationships full of abuse, actually thinking them romantic and therefore romanticising what happened to her to rationalise it and deal with her trauma.

But I don't think... hope that's true with many. I think most just enjoy two fictional characters being together.

On the other hand I could at least name of dozes of people who are molester (both of minors and adults), bullies, ableist and queerphobic in real life, but the content they enjoy and share here, wouldn’t give them away.

What did I do after one of them molested me in real life? I didn’t invade their askbox, because they would even refuse to listen in DMs and face to face conversations: I blocked him and tried to heal by myself and still am trying.

So that is all I'm asking from my followers:

Don't hurt real people, don't suicide bait, don't bully, don't groom, don't stalk, don't harass.

You never know what a person is going through and what their motivations are.

Your 'kill yourself' anon might be what pushes them over the edge.

As for the example of harming fictional characters: That is not always true, but many people use it to deal with their own trauma, but of course they get attacked because they are terrible people for hurting fictional characters.

Until this day I have no proof that those age gap ships normalise pedophilia. None of the people I knew shipping those as teenagers turned out pedo and nobody ever went after the mangaka who created those ships despite the greater audience.

But then people are still fine reading Kenshin, despite the mangaka actually enjoying child porn? (I wouldn't give this man my money... Because, yes, I actually am anti pedos.)

That being said to a degree I understand you. You are uncomfortable and are maybe afraid that it will be normalised in real life, or the people might have such tendencies. And that is okay. These are your feelings and I can't nor won't take them away. Maybe you will grow up and learn like me that fiction and reality are not the same thing, or those things still will make you uncomfortable.

And both is okay.

Just please don't harm people about whose life you know nothing about.

Just block them, don't check out their tags and filter them. It's not good for your own health either if you start to hunt them down.

You can be anti all you want, that's your right, but don't be a bully.

The online definition Tumblr had for me for Pro-ship was something akin to : Just let people ship whatever and don't attack them for it.

I saw enough shipping wars in all fandoms so I agree there and nobody of them said: Pedophilia is okay in real life. If they would, I promise you I would block them on the spot.

#Mun speaking #Please don't make these assumptions #They are actually hurt- and harmful #Kenshin #discourse

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years

Note

uhm can we get a hotch x reader with prompts 1 and 5 from the dialogue prompts list? whatever you want, gender neutral🥺 ily and your writings, if you're not ok with this request it's ok :)

aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader.

word count: 2019

rating: teen, for someone you love meaning more than anything else in the world, in moments just like these (tw: hospital scenes, car crashes, canon-typical violence. hurt/comfort).

Aaron finds himself pushing through glass double doors, rushing to the desk of the emergency room. It’s his nightmare come to life, his job as unit chief colliding with personal circumstances. It’s a horror and a nightmare, and when he makes it to the nurse who’s working, he speeds through his credentials to get him through the door.

But they don’t get him through the door. Nothing gets him through the door, and when JJ and Dave come in behind him, it’s to see his face crumple.

He should’ve been there, he should’ve seen it coming. The stop sign the two of you blew, chasing a suspect, the collision with a car who didn’t hear the sirens. He should’ve known, should’ve come sooner so he could be there for the both of you. But instead, what he got was a firm no from the nurse.

“You’re not next of kin. Until I get clearance, I can’t let anyone back there who is not directly related.”

Never mind that the team is your family. Never mind that you’ve been in Aaron’s life for what should be lifetimes. Never mind that the last time he saw you, it was to kiss your cheek, tell you goodbye, only for the chase to start…

“Those are two of my agents back there,” he bites out, and the words are a little strangled, even as he tries to keep his composure. “Those are two – two of my agents, and I need to see them. Please.”

A lesser person would be terrified by the fire in Aaron’s eyes. But the nurse does not back down. The sympathy in her gaze is clear, but she simply lifts her chin, meets those eyes with ease. “I’m sorry, sir. Someone will be out to discuss the situation shortly, and talk about procedure. Until then, if or when I get the word that visitors can come in, I’ll let you know.”

Emily and Reid come through a few minutes later, and Aaron looks up to watch them push to the same front desk. Their shoulders drop, just like his did, and when they turn it’s to see Dave and JJ beside their unit chief, the three of them… waiting.

“Anything?” Emily asks, and Aaron shakes his head, dropping his chin, elbows on his knees. All of the possible outcomes are filtering through his mind, from worst-case to best, and then back down to worst. Best, unscathed. Unharmed. Worst, unspeakable. Unnamed. Because he knows the truth can only fall somewhere in the middle, he forces the extremes through his head, if only to have something to occupy his thoughts.

“You’re driving yourself crazy, Aaron,” Dave whispers to him, when the others move to get food. It’s been two hours since the crash, two hours without a peep of news. “You have to focus on the positive. The first responders got there, to the both of them. They’re here, and they’re getting treated by capable hands.”

“Two hours, Dave,” Aaron returns, not meeting his friend’s eyes, blinking up at the sight of another set of double doors barring the path to you and Morgan. “We both know that it’s not that simple.”

Soon, the team returns, and the waiting seems to start all over again. Pacing takes up the time between no news and any information they can gather, listening, watching, and needling for anything about their loved ones. And each time those double doors swing open, a beep signaling the passage of someone who could give them answers, another name is called, another family pulled in to discuss the future of those they care about.

Aaron and his team have to wait.

Make calls to Jack and Jess.

And wait.

Calls to the precinct, to the sheriff, to the Bureau, to Strauss.

And wait.

It hits five hours when their messenger comes through. A world-weary physician, who blinks down at the chart and calls out your last name. Aaron stands, suddenly, and the movement makes him dizzy, but he ignores his body just to stride forward with the rest of his team, who gather around the doctor with the same pleading eyes, begging for good news.

“For Morgan, too?” he asks, and Aaron sees Dave nod beside him, sees JJ’s hands clasp together in front of her. “All right. My name is Dr. Roberts, I’ve been in to see both of them. We ran some cursory tests – CT scans, a couple of x-rays, and a full physical exam.”

“And what’d you find?” Emily pushes, and Aaron glances to her to see her thumb held up to her mouth, biting at her nails lightly.

“Well, they got lucky. The hit came to the back half of the SUV, which means that Morgan sustained minimal injuries and abrasions. A concussion, due to the impact, but that’s to be expected.”

There’s a sigh of relief from the team, but the waiting isn’t done yet. Need another cursory glance over the chart, the man before the team hums, and Aaron finds his patience wearing thin. “Doctor,” he urges, and when their eyes meet the battle of wills commences again. “The… the other agent. Please.”

This time Aaron wins out.

“Broken leg,” Dr. Roberts responds, sighing. “Sedation has been helping with the pain, but it’s fractured enough that we’ll need to put in some pins. As soon as the on-call trauma surgeon gets here, we’ll be in the operating room.”

“Can we see them?” Reid asks. “Both of them?” His voice is hopeful, and Aaron can’t help the way his hand lifts to rest on the younger agent’s shoulder when the doctor says yes. He can feel the tension leave him at the affirmation that they’ll be able to finally get back there, find you and Morgan, take care of you.

Together the BAU gathers their things to make their way through. When they make it to the door, ready to get led back, Dr. Roberts holds up a hand to stop them.

“A couple at a time. We’ll be going into surgery in around 45 minutes to an hour,” the doctor informs you. He looks at the group expectantly, numbered five. “Can’t have all of you in a room at once. Let’s say half in each room at a time.”

The team looks around at each other. In that moment, being the unit chief doesn’t matter nearly as much as being a part of the BAU, being folded into the tight-knit group, the unbreakable family ties. Aaron thinks about you, alone, and finds his jaw clenching.

“We’ll switch off,” he tells the group. “And when they take… when the surgery starts… we’ll take turns with Morgan until he gets discharged.”

Dave’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. The tension leaks from him, and he sighs.

“We’re still on a case. Those of us who aren’t waiting once the surgery starts need to keep on it.”

“Hotch –” Emily tries to argue, but with a firm look she nods.

“We can’t drop the ball on this. Morgan’ll tell us as much when we get in there,” JJ agrees, and Aaron looks to her with a tight smile.

“Dave, Emily, and JJ will go to Morgan.” That’s his final call. Their eyes fall on him, and he looks to Reid, who nods at the implication. “I need to make a call to Strauss, and then I’ll be in there to join you.”

When Aaron settles into the space next to your bed, he reaches for your hand immediately. Grimaces at how cold it feels, and finds himself holding it in both of his palms, just rubbing to bring blood, life, feeling back into it. Your eyes stay stubbornly closed, and though he knows the surgery went successfully, there’s a stillness that leaves him feeling… unnerved. You’re not meant to be still. You’re meant to be tapping your fingers against the sheets, pushing your hand through your hair, leaning close to him.

All he can see now is the rise and fall of your chest. The stiffness of your left leg, wrapped up and casted.

He squeezes your fingers again.

He doesn’t know what urges him to start speaking. But he does. Starts talking, and can’t find himself stopping. Reid isn’t there, the rest of the team is with Morgan settling your discharge information as well as his own. It’s just you and Aaron, and he sighs with his thumb pressed between the furrow of his brows.

He kisses your knuckles, and murmurs against them. It’s in time with the rhythm of your heartbeat, some sentences. Like your breathing is the bassline to his life. Maybe it is. And if it isn’t, maybe it should be.

“All this tells me is that I should marry you,” he says. “Not letting me in on a – on a technicality.” You don’t answer, you’re still asleep, but he can see you chuckle with it. “And you see, this is the part where you tell me you’re proud of me. I didn’t lash out at the nurse, or Dave, I just. Waited. Trusted in you to be there for me.”

The beeping continues. Steady. Strong.

“Morgan is okay. Don’t worry. Just a couple of cuts, some bruises. A concussion.”

He shakes his head. “He blames himself. He was driving after all. But I told him, I had to tell him, that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t believe me, or anyone else, but. We’ll work on it. And once you’re awake, you can tell him, too.”

Your eyes blink open, but Aaron doesn’t notice at first. His eyes are still focused on your fingertips.

“It scares me, knowing that this is our life. That this will always be our life. But I wouldn’t trade it, for anything.”

“Neither would I,” you hum out.

When he glances up to see you awake, it’s with a smile on your face.

“Hey, handsome,” you murmur. Your voice is weak, but light, gentle, and he can’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting you when I woke up, too.”

“What do you mean?”

But you’re already drifting again, your thoughts running through your head and coming to the surface without much push. It’s the anesthesia, of course. You start shaking your head when you realize that one of your legs is stationary. Unmoving. “What happened?”

“Car accident. Your leg broke,” he tells you, and your frown is deep, lines around it emphasizing your displeasure.

“Well. I guess I’m on… bedrest, then. That’s… shitty.”

He laughs, despite himself, despite how much it aches to know that this happened at all, because of you. He smiles, and kisses your knuckles again, and leans close to kiss your forehead, because of all that he feels for you.

“Yes, my love. I would say so.”

“If I fell asleep again… would you be shirtless again?”

He blinks, shaking his head. Your filter is truly gone as you continue to rouse, and he smirks as you hum and do your best to move.

“Shirtless?” he dares to ask, and you nod.

“In my dream.” There’s a pleasant smile on your face, like you’re remembering something good. Something great. He laughs again. “We were in the office, and everyone forgot their shirts, and… and I asked you… ‘what – what are you doing with your shirt off?’”

Aaron can’t help his snort, shaking his head and bringing your hand up to his lips. You’re starting to doze off again, and so he pushes a little more, to let you go over the edge into dreamworld again.

“And?”

“And you told me that it was to impress me… and… convince me to stay in the BAU.”

Your words are starting to slur again, and he lets your hand rest against your body, still holding it, loose in his grip.

“Did it work?”

You hum, and your eyes flutter closed. “Honey… I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Your breathing starts to even out again, but that smile remains, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Rest well, my love. I’ll be here.”

“Shirt on?”

“Unfortunately. Now, rest.”

#prompt fill #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort #tw hospital #tw car crash #criminal minds #my fic

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thebigqueer · 3 years

Text

Solangelo - "Edging Closer and Closer to Doom" - One-Shot

Summary: Nico and Will visit Percy and Annabeth to get advice before they leave for Tartarus.

Word Count: 4843

SPOILERS: Tower of Nero; TW: brief mention of guns (no actual violence though); trauma

Read on AO3

“Nico, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

“Is it somewhere romantic?”

Nico turns to Will, stopping both the boys in their tracks. A small smile twists over his mouth. “Well, we can go somewhere afterwards.”

It’s a warm day in August, and Will wants nothing more than to stay here at camp and enjoy the sun with his boyfriend. The month is coming to a close, along with their freedom, and Will thinks it’s important to enjoy the time they have left together.

Since the clash with Nero, Nico’s dreams have been getting worse. He’s been sleeping in later and later, trying to get snippets of the voice, to analyze where and who it’s coming from. Will has been getting worried about him; after some time at camp, Nico’s body seemed to fill into itself and an olive sheen returned to his skin, but only in the past few weeks all that work to improve himself appeared to be for nothing. His dark circles inked into his eyelids and the tan of his skin leached away as his fears took control of him again. His muscles turned to bones, hardening and poking against his skin. He isn’t even able to eat properly.

How are either of them supposed to survive Tartarus when they’re both getting robbed of their health?

“If we’re not going on a romantic date,” Will says, placing his hand over Nico’s wrist, “then I don’t want it.”

Nico raises an eyebrow and pulls closer, leaning his head back to properly look at Will. “It’s to prepare us for Tartarus. We need it.”

A block of ice settles in Will’s chest, freezing him down to his core. All the giddiness that he felt just moments ago melts away. He frowns. “Oh. Okay. Are we leaving for Tartarus right now?”

“Not for Tartarus.” A small smile balances across Nico’s face. “We’re just going to a place.”

“What is this place?” Will asks, seriousness slipping into his voice. “Are we going to Paris?”

Nico shakes his head. “No, we’re not going for the prophecy yet. Just… I need to show you something before we leave for real.”

Will sighs. “Okay. Are we going right now?”

Nico nods. “I’m going to shadow-travel us. You have Kit-Kats in your bag?”

“I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t. It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Nico rolls his eyes and pulls Will along, leading the two of them to the shadow of a nearby tree. “Let’s hope I don’t bring us to Venezuela again.”

Will laughs softly, the sound of it evaporating in the August heat. “Well, I didn’t mind being covered in cheese.”

“Yeah, well, at least it matched with your aesthetic. Cheese Head.”

About five minutes later, Nico and Will find themselves in a much different setting than the camp. The air here is much warmer than Long Island - it pours over both the boys’ skin and immediately coats them in sweat.

Looking around, Will realizes there are buildings surrounding them. Some people mill about, mostly teenagers and young adults with books in their hand and backpacks slung over their shoulder. College age. An aura of maturity lingers in the warm air, and suddenly Will feels too young to be here. Too inexperienced.

Nico leads the two out of the shadows and into the bright sun, and Will wants nothing more than to crawl right back into the darkness. Anything is better than this heat.

As the two stumble around, looking out of place in such a grown-up world, Will asks, “Where are we?”

Nico leads them towards a large building, where some young adults stand around and talk to each other. Some of them turn to look at Will and Nico, but for the most part none of them seem to mind. Dark circles linger under each of their eyes.

“We’re in New Rome,” Nico responds just as they enter the building. A cool wave washes over Will and he sighs outwardly in relief. The heat outside was almost unbearable.

But then Nico’s words settle into his mind, and he stops in his tracks. “New Rome?” he squeaks. “Why?”

“We’re going to meet someone.” Nico’s voice tightens with reluctance, as if he doesn’t want to give too much away, but Will already understands who they’re going to meet.

The son of Hades takes hold of Will’s wrist again and leads them up a set of stairs, despite the blond’s attempts at slowing them down. It appears that despite Nico’s lack of nutrition, he’s still able to drag Will along if he’s really into it.

“We’re meeting Percy and Annabeth?” Will asks, astonished. He almost trips over the next step as Nico’s pace quickens at the mention of their names.

When he doesn’t answer, Will knows he’s right. “Why them? I mean, I know they’ve been to Tartarus, but, like… so have you. What else do they need to tell you?”

“Well…,” Nico says, pulling them along to a flat floor. A corridor stares back at them, with doors standing on each side of the hallway. Harsh gray light flickers over the ceiling. He finally turns to Will. “It’s more like what they need to tell you.”

Nico releases his hold on his boyfriend’s wrist and walks forward, his feet pattering lightly against the floor. Will’s heart beats quickly in his chest, anxiety thrumming through his system. What are we here for? he wonders.

A little bit down the hallway, Nico stops and stares at a door. Under the gray lighting, his skin looks ashen and pale. Taking a deep breath, Nico raises a fist to the door and knocks.

Time stills as the boys wait for an answer. Nico slips his hand into Will’s and squeezes, then releases again. His skin feels feverishly warm against Will’s, bursting with anxiety. The blond frowns but says nothing.

After a moment, a click echoes in the hallway and the door swings open, throwing air around the boys. A tall figure looks down at them, his body slouching against the door tiredly, and Will is suddenly overcome with how much more different Percy looks.

His green eyes sparkle as mischievously as ever, churning with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. A large purple sweatshirt dangles over his body, the letters “SPQR” flashing across his chest in gold. His hair stands on end, frazzled and messy as if he’s just woken from a nap. In the lighting, his tan skin looks just as gray as Nico’s. A bored expression lingers over his face.

When he realizes it’s Will and Nico, he stands up straight. “Nico!” he exclaims. “Wow, I thought I’d be expecting you later.”

“Maybe you just slept in too much. You look exhausted.”

A tired smile sweeps over Percy’s mouth. “School hasn’t even started and I’m already missing out on sleep. Can’t wait for my classes to begin for real.” His eyes flit across Will. He tips his head in acknowledgement and moves away from the door. “You guys should come in.”

The air inside the room is a little cooler, fresh compared to the outside. Nico goes in first and Will follows, closing the door behind him.

For the most part, the room looks fairly neat. The blinds are drawn at the far side of the dorm room, only letting a little bit of light filter through. One bed stands against the far wall while another protrudes from a corner in the right. To the left of Will, a plain desk gleams; another one stands to the corner in the back. A bathroom and closet reside to the left, and a miniature kitchen protrudes from their right. Articles of clothing are piled up over the bed, which Will guesses are Percy’s.

“Nice place you’ve got,” Nico says carefully. Tension strangles the air, pulling the three together in an uncomfortable embrace. Will knows that, for the most part, Nico and Percy have improved their relationship. But looking at them now, with both their eyes trained on each other in an awkward stare, there’s still the rope of discomfort around them. They’re not completely sure how to act with each other.

A small part of Will relishes that discomfort. He knows Nico and Percy never really had a chance, but even then, he likes that he knows Nico better than the son of Poseidon. Maybe Percy is a huge, well-known hero who Will could probably never compare to, but at least there’s one thing Will can be better at than him, and that thing is being a better friend.

Almost as if he can sense Will’s thoughts, Percy smiles at Will. “Wow,” he says with astonishment. “Man, I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. You look… tired. Everything okay with you guys?”

Well, Will thinks with annoyance, what a wonderful way to start a conversation.

Nico nods. “Is Annabeth coming?”

Just then, a knock echoes behind them. Percy grins. “That should be her.”

Annabeth peeps into the room, her blond curls flying as she pushes her head in. At the sight of Will and Nico, a nervous smile flickers over her features. She pushes through the door and steps over nervously. Tense silence wraps around the four demigods as they wait for everyone to get their places, prepared to act in this play of politeness.

“So,” Percy says, throwing an arm around Annabeth, “what is it that you guys are here for?”

Will snaps his eyes to Nico. He says nothing, but the message is clear: You haven’t told him?

Nico stares at him for only a second before he turns back to Percy. In a calm voice, he says, “It’s a matter of Tartarus.”

At the mention of the deathly place, both Percy and Annabeth flinch. The tan of their skin seeps out, spilling over the pale floor, and their eyes cloud over with fear. They’re looking past the boys, past the walls, traveling down into the fears, into the trauma.

“Tartarus?” Percy whispers, his voice threaded with fear and astonishment. “Why? Are you having dreams or something, Nico?”

Nico crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground, the gears in his head turning as he considers what to say next. “Yes,” he answers simply.

“Are you… looking for advice?” Annabeth inquires, edging a little closer to Nico. “Is everything alright? We thought you were going to Dionysus.”

Nico steps back from their gazes, his heart thrumming in his chest. He knew he’d have to tell them about his trip one day or another, and he supposes that now is the best time. Especially with how intense his dreams have become…

“I don’t need advice,” he promises, fixing Percy and Annabeth with what he hopes is a comforting look. Taking a deep breath, he admits, “Actually, I have to go down there again.”

For a moment, nothing happens. Time itself stills, pausing around all four demigods, tightening around them like coil. Percy and Annabeth stare at Nico as if they’ve never seen him before.

“Again?” Percy gasps. “What do you possibly need to do down there?”

Nico’s fingers clasp together in an attempt to ground himself. “Well, I’ve been having dreams. Someone keeps… calling my name. I think it may be Bob, but I can’t be sure. Whoever it is needs my help. I need to go down there again.”

Annabeth blinks. “You? Why you specifically? How come me and Percy haven’t been getting those voices?”

Nico shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. But I know that I need to go down there. Someone keeps calling it, and I would love to ignore it, but… they’re insistent. They want to get out. And I wouldn’t be a hero if I didn’t help them escape their torture.”

A feral look flashes in Percy’s eyes. His jaw clenches and he removes his arm from Annabeth. Stepping closer to Nico, he mutters, “You can’t. Do you know how dangerous that is, Nico? You went there alone and barely made it out alive. Me and Annabeth went there together and we barely made it out alive. How the fuck do you think you’re going to get in there and come back out alive for a second time?” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Dude, you cannot go down there again. No doubt you’ve suffered through enough trauma; you don’t think it’s going to mess up your mind even more? Annabeth and I had nightmares and flashbacks for months. We hadn’t been able to eat properly, or sleep, or just function.” He looks up and down at Nico. “And it seems like you haven’t either. You’re worse than I saw you before I left for New Rome. It’s not a good idea to go down there.”

As each of Percy’s words sink into Nico, irritation builds up in his skin. His nerves curl up and burst open again in rage. His jaw clenches. What right does Percy have to tell him how to act?

“I’m afraid it’s not your say in what I do or don’t,” Nico hisses. “Someone needs me, and I’m going to save them.” Unlike some people.

Annabeth steps forward, fear flashing in her eyes. “Then let us come with you! You can’t go down there on your own.” Then she blinks and snaps her head to Will. Her eyes widen. “No…,” she murmurs. “You’re going to take Will with you? Are you crazy?”

“He’s not taking me with him,” Will mutters defensively. “I’m choosing to go with him.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” says Nico matter-of-factly. “I need your help to convince him not to come.”

At his words, Will’s chest constricts with annoyance and betrayal. He thought they established that Nico isn’t going alone. But apparently this entire trip was just to try to convince him not to accompany him.

Will twists to his boyfriend. “What? After all we talked about, you’re still trying to get me to not come?”

A guilty look flashes in Nico’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Will, but I can’t risk it. You’re too important to me. I’m sorry I tricked you, but it’s not worth it for you to risk your life like this. The camp needs you.”

“And what? The camp doesn’t need you?” Will hisses. “You’re just as important. Gods, I just… I wish you would stop acting like you aren’t important. Like… like it doesn’t matter what happens to you.” He leans closer, his face bursting with red. “Because you know what, Nico? It does matter what happens to you. There are people who care about you. I care about you. You’re not going alone.”

“Actually,” chimes Percy, “neither of you are going. At least not without us.”

Nico turns on Percy, his fists shivering at his sides. “Don’t you act like you’re some savior, Percy. You may be older, but that gives you no right to act like you’re something to control our actions, like you’re supposed to protect us like we’re some kind of children. All I’m asking of you guys is to explain to Will that he shouldn’t come.”

“Why don’t I get a say if I get to come or not?” asks Will. “I’m my own person.”

Percy groans. “Why would we only say that to Will when you shouldn’t go either? Neither of you should be going!”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” growls Nico. “I asked for help.” Looking from Annabeth to Percy, he asks, “Will you help or not?”

Annabeth says, “Our only way of helping is by going with you.”

Nico groans. “You guys aren’t going. I’m not risking your lives either. Just… Can you explain to Will why he shouldn’t come?”

Will frowns. “Why can’t I? Why are you always insisting on doing something by yourself? You aren’t alone anymore, and you’re going to push me away?”

“Can you just… not? I’m trying to save your life and it’s getting really hard when you’re insisting to come with me.”

A wave of anger crashes into Will’s stomach and climbs all the way to the cliffs of his chest. His vision turns red. “Oh, I’m sorry, Nico, am I annoying you by saying I just want you to take care of yourself? Because if I am, just say so.”

An angry scowl curving over Nico’s features. “Yeah, you kind of are. How many times am I going to say it? I’m trying to protect you from certain death.”

“Why? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to go with you? That maybe I’m not as strong as any of the Big Three?”

Nico throws his head back as a harsh laugh escapes his throat. “Here we are again. Will, that’s exactly why I don’t want you to go - you’re insecure. Tartarus is going to use that against you. I don’t think you’re weak, and I never even said that. Your insecurities are the problem. Not to mention that it doesn’t matter if it’s your own choice to come with me; I’m still going to feel guilty if you die.” He scrubs a frustrated hand over his face and when he removes it, Will sees the pain in his eyes, the jab of guilt that’s been pressing against his conscience for days. “I don’t want you to die.”

“And that’s what I don’t want from you either!” cries Will. “Maybe I’m insecure, but I won’t be able to fix it any time soon. And you’re not okay either. But, Nico” - Will tangles his fingers with his boyfriend’s, spilling his warmth and kindness and heartache all into Nico’s bare palms - “we’re not going to be okay. No one is ever perfectly okay at any time. So don’t you think it’s even more important that someone go with you? Going together means that we’ll be there for each other; we’ll watch out for each other. Without you, I’m going to be worried sick; without me, you’re not going to have someone at your back. We ride or die together, just like we did with Nero. I don’t want to let you go on your own. You don’t need to.”

Nico’s chin quivers as he looks at Will, fighting hard to push back his tornado of emotions from destroying the room. “Will,” he whispers, but doesn’t say more.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Don’t say that. You’re making me feel worse.”

“I’m still not leaving you.”

“Neither of you are leaving,” Percy interrupts. Will turns to him, only to find that in place of calming sea-green eyes, he’s met with emerald daggers. A scowl bends over Percy’s face. “Nico, you know how dangerous that is. You can’t leave without me and Annabeth.”

The softness that came over Nico just seconds ago vanishes away as he turns to Percy. He lets go of Will’s hands and steps towards the son of Poseidon. “Stop acting like that!” he exclaims. “You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you? Why can’t you understand this is important? I thought you were smarter than this, Percy. Aren’t you the kind to save friends from peril?”

“Yes,” Percy says, gritting his teeth. “That’s exactly it. If I let you go, I’m not saving you.”

“Well, you’re not saving Bob either.”

“He’s a Titan. He can handle himself.”

“He saved your lives!”

“And I’m grateful for that,” assures Percy. “Every day. But he’s still a Titan; he’s able to last down there longer than we can. Wait for me and Annabeth, and we’ll go with you. It’s like Will said - you aren’t alone anymore.”

Hot, acidic silence lingers over the air, tightening its hold over the four demigods. Nico and Percy stare each other down, and it’s almost like Annabeth and Will don’t even exist anymore; it’s only them, trying to win their own battles.

“No,” Nico says simply. “The more people, the more danger. Two people is enough.”

At his words, Will’s chest billows with relief. “Two? You mean I’m coming?”

Nico turns his head to Will and looks at him with reluctance. He says nothing of affirmation, but that’s all Will needs to know. He’s going, and this time Nico won’t stop him.

“No!” exclaims Percy. He steps closer to Nico, his body towering over the son of Hades like an indestructible wall. For a second, Will’s nervous that he’s going to hit Nico, but he stops just short of bumping chests. Anger burns bright in Nico’s eyes, but he doesn’t step back.

“No what?”

Nico’s looking up at Percy, staring him down despite the fact that he’s a few inches shorter. Tension sparks between them, bursting over everyone’s bare skin, and a sudden nervousness burns in Will’s core. The room is covered in gasoline, and with one spark of fire, Percy and Nico will blow up.

At first, Will thinks maybe it’s his own anxiety that makes the room feel like it’s shaking - but then Annabeth’s eyebrows jump in surprise and she takes Will’s wrist, edging the two of them to the door slowly. Realizing that it isn’t just him who can feel the quaking, Will wraps an arm around Annabeth’s shoulder in the hopes that it will keep them safe from whatever bomb detonates between the other two demigods.

“Guys,” Annabeth mutters. “Calm yourselves. You are both children of the Big Three - remember how much power both of you have.”

The room continues shaking; neither boy looks at Annabeth. Percy’s eyes swirl with spark with angry energy. Nico’s hands raise at his side while he pulls himself into a fighting stance. Percy’s hands linger at his thigh, fingering a pocket.

Behind Will, a gurgling sound thrums in the walls, and in the kitchen a tap turns on. Annabeth’s gray eyes flash with fear and Will pulls closer to her, anxiety stabbing him in the chest.

“Guys,” Annabeth insists, “stop it.”

Will has never seen Nico look so enraged. His entire face turns fiery red and his paled hands shake at his side. The ground continues shaking, grumbling more persistently under his feet, and he knows that if neither him or Annabeth stop this, there will be serious consequences.

“We need to pull them apart,” whispers Will, staring at the demigods nervously. “Break them out of whatever trance they’re in. Otherwise you’re gonna have to pay for damage if Nico starts bringing skeletons in here.”

Annabeth offers a firm nod. The blonds edge close to the walls as they tiptoe towards the two, their balance tested by the quaking in the room. Will reaches out and touches Nico’s inner wrist, rubbing his skin softly in an attempt to bring Nico back, to make him stop drowning in his irritation. His hands feel cold and angry; only power buzzes underneath his skin, and it vibrates down Will’s own body. He almost pulls away in fear that Nico will turn on him instead.

Nico blinks and shifts to look at Will. The rage that took over him just seconds ago melts away and gives way to daze; his dark eyes cloud over with emotion. Will pulls him back from Percy just as Annabeth places a hand over her own boyfriend’s shoulder.

For a moment, all is silent. The quaking simmers down and soon the water in the kitchen slows to a trickle. Percy and Nico continue glaring at each other, but at least they aren’t going after one another.

Percy’s face only betrays anger, resentment, but there’s something else behind his eyes: guilt. Despite how enraged he looks, a frustrated tear blooms across his eye and slips down the side of his face. Almost immediately all his frustration spills out of him and forms a puddle on the floor, leaving him only deflated and exhausted.

“Nico,” he says, his voice strangled with emotions, “you’re like a brother to me. I- I know we haven’t had the best relationship in the past, and neither of us treated each other well. Me especially. But… We’ve had time to fix it. Our relationship isn’t perfect, and it probably needs more time.

“But, please,” Percy continues, desperation trickling into his voice, “don’t do this. I… I can’t imagine losing you. Not after all that happened. Not after everything that you had to go through.”

Nico watches him speak, letting the words from his mouth seep into his ears and harden around his brain. A wave of emotions crashes into his chest and he has to squeeze Will’s hand just to make sure he’s still standing.

Silence lingers in the air again, making itself comfy in the gaps between all the demigods. It doesn’t move for a long while.

Nico’s eyes brim with tears, which flash in the dim lighting of the dorm room. Will takes his other hand and balances it behind Nico’s back in an attempt to comfort him. Two tears roll down Nico’s cheeks as he says, “I’m sorry, Percy, but I have to. I’m glad we got to be friends again, but you know I have to do this. You know more than anyone how important it is to be there for your friends.” He lets go of Will’s hand and steps forward. “I’m going to save my friend Bob. And you know what, Percy? You’re helping me as your friend. If you let me go, you’re helping me make the world better for someone.”

Percy shakes his head. “For one person, Nico? A person who is literally strong enough to survive hell? You’re going to risk your life for that?”

“I- I can’t explain it,” Nico mutters. “I just know he needs my help. If he’s not getting in your dreams, then it must be me.” Nico sighs shakily and another tear falls. “I just… need to do this. So let me do it. I’m no longer that helpless eleven-year-old boy you knew, Percy; I’m old enough to take care of myself. I have been for a long time.”

Percy and Annabeth turn to each other, both their eyes glazed over with pity and guilt. Their eyebrows jump and narrow at each other as if having a silent conversation. Then Annabeth turns to Nico and says, “Then be safe, Nico. And it’s not too late to take us with you. Give us the word, and we’ll come.”

Nico shakes his head. “I’m not risking more lives. And you guys deserve to have this break and enjoy your education.”

“But you deserve a calm year, too,” Annabeth says. “We can give this up if you need us to.”

Nico shakes his head again. “I’ve had time to heal. I’m not completely mended yet, but I’ve grown. You guys had to go right back into your real life and become one with reality again. You deserve just a chance to relax with each other. I’m going.”

Nico turns to Will and leans against his side. A burst of joy erupts in Will’s chest and he melts into his boyfriend, basking in his warmth. “Besides,” Nico says, offering a small smile to Will, “I’m going to have Will with me. He can shoot a mean gun. I think we’ll be alright.”

A doubtful expression flashes against Percy’s face. “You’re sure?”

Nico’s hand squeezes Will’s fingers, and for the first time in a while, confidence rises in Will’s heart. He feels seen knowing that Nico’s finally accepted he’s coming; he’s ensured that Nico doesn’t see him as just a healer, but also as someone who he can count on to come down with him to the depths of the Underworld.

Nico trusts him. He trusts him with his life and safety. There is nothing more honorable than knowing that, after years of losing people (whether by death or by distance), there is someone in his life who truly believes in Will. His face heats at the realization that Nico’s ready to let him watch his back.

Will hopes he doesn’t fail Nico.

Percy smiles hesitantly. “Alright. But, again, if you need anything before you go… Please, for the love of god, tell us. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to go down there for a second time.” He frowns. “When are you leaving anyway?”

“Probably in a few days,” Nico says. “Just need to get some supplies, then we’re going to meet Rachel in Paris and get a prophecy.”

Pery nods. “Okay.” His green eyes swim between Nico and Will, concern pooling in them. “Just… watch out for each other, okay? If either of you die, I’m killing you.”

Nico cracks a smile, the first one in a while. “We’ll try not to die.” Then he nods his head to Annabeth. “Thank you both for the help.”

Annabeth snorts. “What help? All we did was argue.”

“Well, it helped. Just accept the grace.”

Nico and Will step back to the door. The blond turns back to look at Percy and Annabeth, who are both watching the boys with politely concerned eyes.

He smiles. “We’ll see you later. Hopefully.”

And with that, Nico and Will leave the door and walk away, edging closer and closer to whatever doom lies in their future.

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square-blunt · 3 years

Text

It's honor among theives, it's all that we've got.

Just a silly little c!karlnapity fic I've been working on. It's a little out dated but yknow, it is what it is.

Tw- Major ptsd, trauma/abuse flashback, panic/anxiety attack, it's lovely for Q Wc: 1624 AO3:link

It’s early in the morning, light filtering in through the blinds, dust suspended in the air. Quackity turns over, trying desperately to hold onto the remnants of sleep. The birds grow louder, as does the soft drone of life outside the walls, and he realizes his attempt to slip back into unconsciousness will be unsuccessful. He lets sleep slide from his grasp. Q sits up, and the room is a lot colder than he’d hoped. He bends sideways, feeling around for a hoodie he might have thrown on the floor last night, finds one, and tugs it over his head. There’s a knock at the far door, and he smiles as his partners walk in, padding across to him with a tray of food, very loudly- and badly- singing happy birthday. Q’s grin grows wider as he notices that he’s not wearing his own hoodie, but one that belongs to one of his boyfriends- the one who’s putting the tray down on his lap- and his other slides into bed next to him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, Q!!” Karl grins, handing him a napkin.

“Happy, happy,” Sapnap says, immediately cutting off a piece of pancake and shoving it in Quackity’s mouth. Q groans and playfully smacks Sapnap’s hand, and the fork, away.

“Thank you, I’m gonna be honest I was not expecting you guys to do this- I forgot about today completely, anyways.” Q, mumbling around the bite of a rather dry pancake, takes the fork and knife back from Sapnap.

“Of course we would, we fucking love you, dude.” Sapnap adjusts his position to lean back against the bed frame, steading the tray with one hand.

“I know that, dumbass, but I didn’t even ask you to do this- like I said, I forgot that today was my birthday at all.” Q fidgets with the fork.

“Well, we didn’t- Sapnap didn’t at least,” Karl says, giggling- Q loved that little laugh he does.

“You didn’t have to ask us- don’t tell me you’ve never had breakfast in bed before,” Sapnap says.

“I- no, I guess I haven’t-” Q begins.

“In all your years no one’s ever brought you breakfast in bed?” Karl asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I mean, yeah, once, but I kinda spilled it everywhere.” Quackity tries to put a lightness in his voice, but Quackity couldn’t really manage it. He did have breakfast in bed once. The reason he got it was because he couldn’t get out of bed in the first place, the night before that had been absolutely awful. Maybe the worst of his life-

“Was that when you were a kid? You got someone to do it again?” Sapnap reaches over and sneaks a piece of bacon and stuffs it in his mouth, snapping Quackity back to reality.

“Not exactly. I- I didn’t know that was something you could do when I was a kid, and, uh, y’know, there’ve been only a few people willing to do… this… for me at all anyways,” Q mumbles, passing the fork through his fingers. He hopes they don’t press any further.

“Well, had it or not, you have hardly eaten anything so hush and let me feed you.” Karl seems to have completely missed what Quackity just said, and he was relieved.

“Wait- no- Karl I wanna do that.” Sapnap grabs the fork out of Quackity’s hand again, making the coffee mug teeter. Quackity shoots out a hand to steady it.

“Hey that’s not fair you get to sit next to him I wanna do it.” Karl crawls over Quackity’s legs and reaches out for Sapnap-

“Hey- guys-” the plate is sliding around on the tray, and Quackity would very much like to not stain the sheets. Not more than they already were, at least-

“You got to bring the tray to him I wanna do it-” Sapnap rotates away, hiding the fork- and his knee pops up, flipping the tray over. Quackity holds onto the steaming hot coffee mug, so at least that didn’t burn him, but the pancakes, bacon, and eggs fly everywhere. The plate bounces off the bed and shatters on the floor, leaving a sticky circle in its wake. The three of them are silent- but Quackity’s head rings with the sound of the plate breaking. It sounds so much like glass. It sounds like glass breaking. It sounds like a bottle being thrown and hitting a wall, missing your head by inches. It sounds like him. The tray clatters to the floor, but Quackity pays it no mind. The sound of shattering glass, porcelain, is drowning out the sound of his breathing, of the blood rushing through his skull. He doesn’t know if Karl and Sapnap are talking to him and quite frankly he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know where he’s looking, the image doesn’t make it to his brain. Another image, a memory, takes its place. He can’t feel the mug in his hands, but he knows it’s there, because every one of his muscles are tensed. He is completely still. He was never able to hurt him if he stood still. The ‘seeing-double’ myth was true and it always worked. If he got drunk, he got drunk enough to see quintuple. He never knew which Quackity to hit. All but once. The morning after, Quackity had leftover steak and potatoes, and a whisky stained kiss, for breakfast.

Quackity jumps as a hand cradles his face, some of the coffee spilling out- he braces himself. The coffee burns his hand. His mind spirals down and crashes back to reality.

“-you ok? Q?” An image of Karl, brushing his hair out of his face, and Sapnap, bent down cleaning up the plate off the floor, attacks his mind. The clinking shards, Karls light breathing and even lighter questions bombard his ears. His eyes sting. He pushes the mug into Karls hand and rushes out of the room, running down the hall and out to the balcony. It’s way too loud out here, too. Birds, cows, sheep, the distant sound of gleeful squeals and song. It’s too bright. There are too many colors. There’s too much going on. He just wants to hide.

“Quackity?” Sapnap calls from down the hall. Quackity loves him but he can’t do this right now. He digs through his pockets, and somehow, he has a three minute invis pot. That’s more than enough. He unstops the bottle, and downs it, the light liquid making his skin feel funny. He’s used to the feeling. He pockets the bottle, and turns down the hallway, Karl has joined Sapnap, the mug still in his hands. They both look really worried. He would be worried, too.

‘They wouldn’t hurt you and you know that. They’d rather die than hurt you. You know that. They’re not like him.’ Q tells himself. Karl and Sapnap pass by him, the breeze they produce ruffles his hair. Q hopes they- wait. He should be hoping they worry. Why is he hiding? He should talk to them about this. He’s running away from it, from them, again. But it's all he knows. Running from people who were supposed to protect him, when they didnt- when they hurt him- they left him- stood by and watched. No one protected him. No one ever cared enough to protect him-

"Sapnap-" Karl is stood in the middle of the hallway, he had come back up after checking for Quackity downstairs. Karl in front of Quackity, and Sapnap responds from a hallway out of Q's sight.

"Sapnap the balcony is open-" Karl says, worry tinting his voice.

"Yeah? Is he on the balcony?" Sapnap jogs back into view.

"Sapnap the front doors are still locked. He'd have left the front doors unlocked if he left through there." After a beat, both Karl and Sapnap break into a sprint down the stairs.

'What are they doing?' Quackity thinks, confused. 'What did it matter if the balcony- was the only way he could have gotten down- oh god-' Quackity runs after them, stopping to grab a bucket, he might be able to find a cow. Out on the patio, Q frantically looks around, trying to find any sign of movement, when a message pings on his wristband.

[S a p N a p]: H a s a n y o n e s e e n Q ?

Does he answer? Does he want- yes. Yes he wants them to find him. Q wants them to know he's safe. He's spent so long hiding from him, he needs to be found now.

/ m s g [S a p N a p]: I ' m s t i l l a t t h e h o u s e

He hears a semi-distant noise, the sound of running, as Karl and Sapnap round a tree and come barreling up the path. Q doesn't trust himself to speak. He reaches out and his hand brushes Karl's arm, and Karl stops.

"Karl?" Sapnap catches himself on the doorframe, and Karl looks down to where Q's hand rests on his arm.

"Quackity?" Karl asks, looking about three inches left to where Q actually is. Q squeezes Karl's arm. "You're invisible, honey." He covers Q's hand with his own, a twinkle in his eye.

"Is he here?" Sapnap walks up to them, and Q cups Sapnap's face with his other hand. Sapnap jumps, obviously, but still swoops in for a hug, getting Karl, but completely missing Q.

Quackity laughs. He joins the hug for himself, sandwiched in between Karl and Sapnap, and very faintly, "Thank you for not being like him."

The invis wears off.

Quackity doesn't need to hide.

He's been found.

#tw trauma #tw abuse #tw ptsd #tw panic attack #tw anxiety attack #karlnapity #c!karlnapity #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp writing #c!sapnap #c!karl #c!quackity #sapnap #karl jacobs #quackity #i miss them :pensive:#gremtalks

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trash0receptacle · 3 years

Text

Headcannon

Before that however: I’m sorry for not being active lately I’ve been very, stressed, busy, and tired. Since school started back my mood definitely declined a shit ton. With that being said writing is a way of coping for me so this is really just gonna be what I need today. If it helps you then that’s wonderful too.

Tw: Deppresion, Anxiety, and Anorexia

Paring: Lucifer x f/Mc

Also the way I right Luke is supposed to be taken platonically.

(Mc’s Pov)

Life had been shitty lately a lot more shitty than usual. I suppose it started when I heard some of the other succubi talking about me in on the way to class.

“She’s so lucky!”

“I know why does that bitch get to live with the brothers?”

“What do they even see in her?”

Sure I shouldn’t have taken the comments so personally but hell I take everything personally. So thats when my self doubt started forming roots in my mind again.

Before devildom I already had a lot of unresolved trauma and pain but the brothers really helped me. They were there for me when I needed them and made me feel wanted however after Belphie escaped the attic things went downhill for me mentally. The situation caused me a massive relapse and I began my destructive habits again. It went unnoticed for the most part mainly because they didn’t know the full scale of my past. All they knew is that I struggled and was medicated but nothing else. Perhaps Barbatos knew but he never said anything and I don’t believe he truly knew what went on inside my head either.

Now in the present moment I am contemplating what the succubi were saying about me. They’re right, “what did they see in me?” Surely it wasn’t my looks. I’m decently smart but I have no work ethic. The only thing I know I’m good at is being kind yet I’m a bitch half the time. So that’s when it came back to my body. The thing I’ve always hated about myself because I was never skinny enough, tall enough, pretty enough, curvy enough. I was never enough for someone to care about me.

I started skipping meals here and there. I still ate 2 out of three meals but I figured losing weight couldn’t hurt but then before I knew it I was lucky to even eat once a day. I was always good at making myself lose weight but not so drastically that you could tell I starved myself. For the most part I seemed healthy. However since I was going unchecked it kept getting worse. First my curves disappeared, then it was my hips sticking out, after that my cheeks began to sink, and finally my hair began coming out when I brushed it. I knew what I’d done but I couldn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to hurt them and in the past asking for help only got me ridiculed or hurt.

“No one wants to here about your problems mc it makes us sad.”

“You wonder why I don’t like you!”

“You always beg for compliments!”

“Your fat anyway.”

Those words just kept circulating inside my mind and wouldn’t stop. I wanted to get better I really did but it was hard to force myself to eat. However I couldn’t rely on anyone else for fear of hurting them or them hurting me so I stayed silent. That was until my ddd pinged and I received a text from Lucifer.

Lucifer: Please come to my study mc.

Mc: Uh sure... is everything alright?

No response.

This is unlike Lucifer whats wrong? Is he mad at me? I guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting otherwise he will get mad. I got up and walked to his study inside the library. On the way I noticed the house of Lamenation was eerily quiet. There was no noise besides the sound of my feet walking through the hallways. When I arrived at the door to the study I was surprised to not only see Lucifer but everyone else?

Simeon resembled a worried parent, Luke seemed confused and angry, Diavolo was most serious I’d ever seen him, Barbatos stared at me with what I assume was pity, Solomon looked at me like I was a ghost. However the brothers appeared in worst shape. Mammon seemed on the verge of crying, Levi had guilt written over his face, Satan like Luke was angry angry, Amso was for once frowning, and Belphie and Beel looked disappointed. However I couldn’t read Lucifer’s expression but I could tell something was definitely off.

“Uh hey guys... what’s wrong you look like someone died or something?” I tried to laugh off the uneasy mood in the room but it was to no avail.

“Mc if you could sit down we have some things we must discuss with you.” Lucifer spoke solemnly

They had to have figured it out. Of course I knew this would come out eventually but it still felt like a stab to the heart none the less. I sat down not even listening to the others words. All my energy was focused into not breaking down in front of them but I’d stayed “strong” for too long and tears began to silently fall down my face. The talking stopped and I felt them all look at me which just made the tears fall harder. I felt my wall crumbling down as the final straw on the camels back was placed. I just cried for what felt like hours. Once I began to calm down I finally spoke in between sobs and breaths

“I-.... I’m so-...sorry.”

The room became silent once more. No of them knew how to respond to the broken girl infront of them

“I just didn’t want to burden you guys.... you have your own problems and don’t need to put up with mine” “nor would you want to” I mumbled the last part but I didn’t go unheard.

Luke got up and ran over to me enveloping me in a hug. He just stood there hugging me as if he didn’t I would fade away. I just hugged him back feeling slightly better by the angel’s hug.

Simeon was the first to speak

“Mc we aren’t angry at you. I think I speak for everyone when I say we are worried.”

A silent agreement was exchanged throughout the room.

Diavolo spoke next

“While Barbatos wouldn’t divulge all of what he knew for the sake of your privacy he warned me that you needed an intervention.”

I chuckled halfheartedly knowing my hypothesis was indeed correct.

“Well I figured it would come to this eventually.”

*time skip*

“Can I go back to my room now?” I whisper

I wasn’t really asking rather I just said it and got up to leave. The others stayed still likely digesting the information I’d given them. I felt ashamed and exposed. I hated seeing how much my words affected them and I really needed to be alone at the moment. Eventually I made it to my room. Walking in I closed the door and just cried.

(Lucifer’s Pov)

No one bothered to utter a word after Mc left and no one went after her either. Eventually my brothers excused themselves to go where, I’m not sure. I couldn’t tell if it was minutes or hours that passed but Solomon, Simeon, and Luke left saying they should head back to purgatory hall. Which left Barbatos, Diavolo, and I alone in the study. For the first time since I’d known the prince I couldn’t tell what was going through his head. Barbatos eventually composed himself however and turned to me.

“I believe My lord and I should make our way back to the palace..”

I just nodded in agreement as the pair left me alone with my own thoughts. I’d never seen that side of Mc before. Of course I knew somewhat of Mc’s history either from her file or her own account but clearly things had been left out.

I eventually got up and left to go to my room knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus on my work even if I wanted to. On the way there I passed by Mc’s room and noticed the light was on. I debated knocking or leaving her alone when a voice called out.

“If your gonna stand at my door like a creep you might as well come in.”

And so I did.

“Hey Lucifer...”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Foot steps. I can tell who’s in the hallway by how they walk.”

“I see then.”

The room’s atmosphere felt awkward as neither one of us bother or start conversation. So I simply sat down on the floor across from Mc, who had her head in her knees. (The fetal position) Eventually she brought her head up to wipe tears from her eyes and said with a broken laugh.

“I’m sorry you had to seem me like this. I look pathetic right now..”

“Mc why do you say these things about yourself?”

“Why not it’s how I view my self Lucifer. I’ve heard it from your mouth before”

“I’m just a mere human.”

I cringed at the memory knowing she were right of course.

“Mc I-“

“You don’t need to apologize or explain I understand I pissed you off then. It was just an example”

Wanting to change the topic of discussion I asked her a question.

“Why didn’t you come to any of us?”

“Denial...”

“Denial of what?”

“That it got out of control.”

“Is that all?”

“Not exactly...”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“I- just please don’t get angry...”

I silently nodded my head as a watched Mc loosen up a bit.

“I think it might be my lack of trust towards really anyone.”

Mc started looking into space as she continued.

“I’m terrified of needing people or letting people help me. Part of it is when I have in the past I ended up hurt and alone. So I stopped I started being the one to help others.... then I needed help and I was cast out like a piece of trash. According to them I was selfish for needing affirmation and love. So that was when I decided I didn’t need that again.”

I sat silently contemplating her words.

“I’m truly sorry mc.”

“I would say it’s fine but it’s not. It hurts like hell but that’s life isn’t it? You learn to love and trust then you get your heart stomped out like a burning ember. The people you love leave you or die and you can’t do shit about it.”

“Wait what do you mean by die?”

“You know this sounds awful but you should be thankful Lilith didn’t suffer... sure it hurts that she’s gone but you are able to remember her before then since her “death” was quick. Painless.”

“I’ve had to watch the people who were my Lilith for lack of better terms die and suffer for months or years. I watched their bodies grow weak and feeble. However I was a child then and couldn’t do anything.”

I didn’t know how to respond so we sat in silence until

“Why’d you tell me this Mc?”

“Honestly I don’t know. Likely it’s because my body is physically exhausted and my filter was turned off.”

I noticed the tiredness Mc was trying to hide for the first time.

“You should sleep mc.”

“That’s ironic coming from you Lucifer.”

“I’m being serious mc.”

“What are you going to do? Mak-“

She didn’t get to finish her thought as I picked her up and carried her to my room. I knew she shouldn’t be left alone and I wanted to make sure she would be alright.

We arrived at my room and I deposited her on my bed. I sat in on of the chairs by the fire figuring she’d want the bed.

“Ok but why is your bed more comfortable than mine? Like sis you don’t sleep wtf!”

I just sighed knowing she was probably out of it but she was kinda of adorable when pouty.

Eventually she quieted down and her breathing became slower.

Mc’s POV:

“Mc you need to wake up”

“Five more minutes”

“Mc wake up!”

I felt the covers being ripped off. A dick move really.

“Ahh I’m up I’m up asshole!”

Wait why is Lucifer looking down at me? Why am I in his room? Shit I cussed him out. Well death never seemed that terrible

“Well if you’re awake now you need to come downstairs to eat breakfast. No, you can not object to this either.”

With that he left probably to go make sure the house isn’t on fire. I walked over to his bathroom and splashed water in my face to wake me up and noticed how emaciated I appeared.

Where my cheeks always so pronounced? Or when did my eyes start looking glassy and dark? I brushed it off not wanting to delve deeper into my insecurities. So I made my way to the dinning room. When I got there all conversation stopped and 7 pairs of eyes shot in my direction. I awkwardly made my way to the table and sat down.

I tried eating breakfast but it’s always been something I’ve never been able to stomach. I honestly never feel hungry when I wake up and it’s not like devildom food is exactly tasty. I was about to get up to leave when

“Mc you need to eat more.”

“Lucifer is right mc.”

“Ok...”

I sat back down and tried to eat what was on my plate but couldn’t so I sat there looking at it. I looked over to mammon’s plate and noticed how much food his had compared to mine and figured at least one of them knew it was a process to get me to eat again.

“I really can’t eat anymore otherwise I might be sick.” With no objections I got up and took my plate to the kitchen.

As I was washing it in the sink slowly some of the brothers came in aswell. First Asmo offered to take me shopping but I didn’t feel up to it. Then Satan asked if I wanted to go to the library again I didn’t exactly want people to see me like this so I declined. So levi offered we could play video games or something and I took him up on his offer.

He made sure I ate lunch that day which I honestly forget about sometimes. By the end of the day the other brothers excluding Amso, Satan, and Lucifer were all piled in Levi’s room.

Belphie was passed out in the bathtub of all places. Mammon was trying to impress me with his video game skills and Beel was munching on snacks behind us. It felt normal.

Eventually I got tired of it and decided to have some alone time. I was on my bed watching tik toks. (But fr tho I do have a problem with tik tok) Laughing at some etc when a knock was at my door.

“Come in”

I said this without looking up figuring it was beel looking for snacks or even Satan wanting to come in here and read. When I didn’t hear anything I looked back up from my phone surprised to see Lucifer standing there.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. I just heard laughing and was wondering is you were alright.”

“Oh yeah sorry about that I’m just watching stuff in my phone.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He smirked

Damn not that smirk. Stop blushing Mc you got this. It’s just Lucifer.

“Uh... sure...”

Damn that wasn’t smooth.

End. (Unless I am asked to make a part two)

So I’ve been working on this for a while because I’ve wanted to make something actually decent. I wanted to do a happy ending and remind you guys that you’re amazing. And no matter who you are you’re loved and remember that.

- Caroline

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