#tw implied disassociation

[the-tyler-as-in-skyler]

20......

hello tumblr user dxzyslive :33

20. found you / cannot trust you

this was super fun to write i hope you enjoy :33

prompt lisst

Finding Grian had never really been an issue, not for Doc at least. Especially since the pesky bird tended to be intent on annoying him in some way or another. However, Grian had asked for his help with farm efficiency so Doc was at the avian’s rock. He had been expecting Grian to be waiting for him on the bridge, or maybe down by his chest and shulker monster, but the pesky bird wasn’t anywhere he could easily see.

The next place that Doc checked was the cave with the Rift, but the Content Generator and Grumbot’ were the only things there. When he asked the robot where Grian was the robot told him “Father 1 is Not starting A Resistance”, whatever that meant. It didn’t help Doc find Grian, so he ignored it.

Then he looked inside of the largest rock, but other than yet another chest monster (Doc knows that his is just as bad but at least he’s only got one!) it was empty. The rock with Grian’s farms in it also yielded no pesky bird, which meant that the skulk infested rock was the only place left in Grian’s area. Doc supposed that if Grian wasn’t there he’d probably be re-stocking The Entity.

Finding the entrance was a bit difficult, a small one block hole in the top of the rock that led down into the dimly-lit hollow interior. The inside probably looked darker than it actually was, with most of the walls coated in a layer of skulk. On one wall in large, bold letters were the letters N.A.R., Doc’s mind went back to Grumbot’’s message “Farther 1 is Not starting A Resistance”. He’d barely noticed the strange capitalization but…

Doc enabled the infrared on his cybernetic eye and scanned the room, and finally landed on a small blip of warmth curled in the corner. He quickly flicked the infrared off, carefully stepping closer.

“...Grian?” Doc was not often hesitant, but he didn’t want to startle Grian, especially not like this. There were threads of skulk creeping up his wings and legs where they came into contact with it, it almost reminded him of the Mycelium from Season 7, but more… malicious somehow. Grian’s wings twitched and he buried his head a bit further into his knees, and Doc furrowed his brow “Are you alright?”

Grian made no move to respond, aside from his wings wrapping tighter around himself. Doc carefully knelt next to Grian, gently tugging at the avian’s shoulder. When he finally looked up, Doc smiled. “There you are,” Grian’s face seemed to crumple a little, the blank expression there fading.

“Doc? What- why are you here?” the creeper hybrid sighed, helping Grian out of the curled up position he’d been in for who knows how long, making a sympathetic face when the avian winced as he stretched out his legs.

“I couldn’t find you, you wanted my help with farms today, remember?” Doc asked patiently, watching as Grian’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I- I said tomorrow, that was- it can’t have been that long, right?” The creeper hybrid grabbed one of the avian’s shaky hand in his own organic one, running gentle, soothing circles into his knuckles.

“Hey, it’s alright. I found you, didn’t I?” Grian took in a shuddery breath, wings curling around his back again.

“But what if-“

“None of that,” Doc was quick to cut him off, “I found you, other than some skulk nothing happened. We all space out from time to time, it’s nothing new.” His smile was reassuring, and Doc carefully didn’t mention the bad vibes that the skulk was giving him. A conversation for later, certainly, but calming Grian down was more important right now. Doc’s concern could wait until he was sure that Grian could hear him out without having a panic attack.

The avian pulled in a deep breath before practically launching himself at Doc, arms wrapping around his ribs, face pressed into his chest. Doc froze for a moment before reciprocating, trying to rebalance himself so they didn’t tip over entirely. “Thank you,” Grian mumbled against Doc, just loud enough to be heard. Doc ran gentle hand through the avian’s hair, pulling him closer.

“Not a problem, Pesky Bird.”

#hermitcraft season 9 #hermitcraft #grian #docm77 #hermitcraft fanfic #gridoc #<- kinda but gonna tag it bc i love them #hermitshipping #<- again kinda #it is late goodnight #tw implied disassociation

[echovale052]

History Repeats Itself

A small excerpt of a Corollary Angst Fic, I probably won’t finish. @frenchiefitzhere

Tw: Implied Disassociation (I used what I go through for reference for definition of it, so I apologize if it doesn’t fit textbook definition)

A heart raced in a quiet room, the distinct sound of water dripping on the sleek kitchen tile. Over and over and over and…. Conservator. Their new title poured onto their tongue like oil. It felt wrong, wrong from their coworkers, wrong from their boss’s boss. Especially coming from her. The sound of those heels clicking would be haunting their dreams. The thought alone was enough to make them want to bolt for the exit, and their heart race.

They had a mediocre position they didn’t enjoy at a job they couldn’t complain about. Physically, couldn’t complain about. A few people could relate, at least in the office they could. But a certain commandant whose stature left her close enough to the ground so she didn’t need to bother putting her ear there… would probably have words for their latest slip. Maybe they should just call in sick?

Staring into their black coffee brought back swirling memories… only shaking echoes and blurry figures, occasionally there’s something vivid but it’s nothing important; Electricity, clacking, loud angry shouts and flowing water. Sometimes there was a kind smile, accompanied by deep puppy-like eyes and hair, nothing that mattered. The dream played on repeat, all too familiar. Most of the voices were implacable, but they knew their own was among them.

“You of all people should know the rules, no one leaves.”

…Definitely calling in sick.

#corollary series #corollary carol #corollary randi #tw implied disassociation #Did I make fun of Carol again? No… not at all. #corollary conservator

[scouts-thingsandrps]

I was replaceable

Those words echo through Atalanata’s mind as they held a hand over their mouth, trying to keep themselves quiet.

Trying not to panic or cry.

After all, they didn’t want to wake their brother.

The former golden guard made sure to be as quiet as they left her sleeping brother to walk, though they didn’t have a destination.

She just needed to avoid any windows…just in case.

Atalanta felt like her bones were aching as soon as she entered the bathroom, staring at their unkempt appearance.

Between the messy braid, their unkempt clothes that were ripped, and glossy eyes, anyone could tell they were having a rough week.

They put their head on the mirror, feeling their face get somewhat wet as they closed their eyes.

Once again their uncle’s…no, he’s not their uncle anymore.

Once again, they heard the emperor’s words echo through their minds.

Maybe if they were better, somehow, they would still be by his side..?

Atalanta heard a familiar chittering, looking down at their pale blue companion.

‘You’ll be okay.’ The palisman chittered out, trying to reassure their owner.

Though before Atalanta could respond with anything, they heard a door close.

The triclops and bard just locked eyes with the former golden guard, now aware of each other’s presence.

Atalanta couldn’t help but try and give a reassuring smile, something she must’ve done a million times with Hunter.

It was instinct at this point.

“Sorry, I’m not usually like this.” Despite the outburst of emotions, Skara stepped a bit closer to wash her hands as she gave the golden guard a puzzled look.

“So, is there some golden guard mission thing that requires you to stay inside of an empty school?” Boscha playfully teased, clearly she had heard about the incident with Atalanta’s brother and the flyer derby team.

Normally Atalanta would’ve snapped back with something, though the mention of their former title made her heart sink a little bit as they just stared ahead at the mirror as everything began to feel distant.

The only thing that seemed to have the former golden guard’s focus was the intense pressure that felt like it was trapped within their nerves but was trying to burst free.

She always assumed that her brother had the same feeling, since he would always rub his hands in the same way that she was doing now.

“Hey, are you alright?” Boscha’s soft voice cut through all of her thoughts, and in that moment, Atalanta noticed that Skara was a bit closer as well.

A part of Atalanta just wanted to scream at them to go away, or just to leave herself. After all, they would just use this weakness against her like almost everyone else in her life.

However, there was another part of her that felt like she could trust the other two girls with this.

That they wouldn’t betray her in some way.

That was the part of them that they listened to.

“There’s just some pressure there, I’ve always had it.” Atalanta continued the motion.

By this point, they were partially regretting their betrayal since Belos always knew what to do with it, even his way was always painful. The former golden guard bit at their wrists, much to the dismay of their palisman as the creature loudly chittered as to alert everyone of its presence.

“No, no, no. Hey, I’ve got a better idea.” Boscha reassured Atalanta as the triclops gently grabbed at her wrists while Skara gently hummed a soft tune to the palisman.

The triclops straightened the other girl’s arm out, guiding her fingers to make sure her index finger was pointing outwards.

“Alright, now close your eyes and envision something.” Atalanta followed the instructions, one of the first couple of things that popped into her mind was Terra.

While she always feared the coven head, some of the memories were of her having to stop her body from shaking in the coven head’s presence, the one thing she always adored was the plants.

Atalanta loved how the vines seemed to tangle with everything in their path, how Terra always made succulents and flowers grow despite the conditions they were in.

‘Open your eyes! Look!’ The former golden guard peaked as they heard Sami chitter.

Their eyes widened as they looked over at the small vines that began to form.

Atalanta smiled at the magic that they were able to form as a sense of pride washed over them.

After all, it was something that Belos didn’t give them.

It was a sign that they were something different.

#the owl house #au: golden duo #atalanta ‘attie’ wolfsbane #hunter wittebane deamonne #boscha moore #skara parrish #tw implied emotional abuse #tw negative self talk #tw implied disassociation #tw self injury

[storytellersumayyah]

a look into tristan nightingale's search history after the fire

tw: referenced child abuse, implied disassociation, suicidal ideation

is my mother abusive? how do i know if i'm a bad son? am i allowed to hate and love someone at the same time? college scholarships how to design a ticket for an event therapists near me how to hide therapy from your parents blue fountain pen cambridge decision release date this year how do you go low contact with your parents capitulate meaning grounding techniques eros academy fire inquiry outcome books for pre-law majors photo printing suicidal ideation will my concealer shade change in summer nail polish tutorial journals camilla viron

#the heartbreaker's handbook #sumayyah creates #tw referenced child abuse #tw implied disassociation #tw suicidal ideation

[cryptidwithaninternetconnection]

Hhhhmmmmmmg, these feel like pointed shorts, I’ve told my mom about my depression and she said “I have noticed that whenever your in a slump, it’s always with a smile on your face, you never realy let people know how badly your hurting until it bubbles up, then you sweep it off”

This realy helps me self-diagnose myself, I’m aware that I have depression, I’ve had it for about 2-3 years at this point, I started developing these symptoms around the time when the first Covid shut-down happened that was supposed to last 2 weeks, then it progressively got worse and worse until it developed into this monster that hung on my shoulders like a giant block and weighed me down like a blanket, it still does I just don’t think about it as much.

I also have extremely severe anxiety, it reguraly invades my life and bombards me like a hurricane, spinning my thoughts and turning myself against me, it regularly makes me question if my friends and family are just hurting me, it makes me sit out on activities I know I would enjoy in fear of.. something, I don’t know what yet

Sorry that this is a bit of a downer post, I usually do the sillies but I feel like this was Important for me to share to help you guys see more of myself, I trust you guys to not use this information against me :)

#tw depressing stuff #tw depressing thoughts #tw depression #depression talk #tw vent #tw vent talk #vent cw #depression cw #tw anxiety #tw Implied panic attacks #I will say that my panic attacks range from your standered one filled with hyperventilating and tornado-like thoughts #to nothing. a blank disassociation in pure terror and fear #that one is more common

[fatefought]

where: outside peeta's medical room

when: night sixty-seven

who: katniss & annie (@incaensio)

it's not often annie cresta separates from her fiancé and their little guppy nowadays. recently, she had overheard someone sweetly put that finnick odair and annie cresta never let go of each other's hands. it glosses over the intense, separation anxiety that the little family from district four has ; something annie also does in the situation. there's that worry that lingers hushed in a pit of her stomach, that all this happiness is a dream. she'll wake up on that nightmare inducing cot in a cell ; or more likely, her place in panem is one in a purgatory plane, where neither heaven nor hell will take her. but for now, that needs to be pushed down. because for at least now, she has her family - her everything, regardless.

she feels drawn to peeta mellark though. trauma bonds. it almost feels like he's a brother to her and they're a pair of ghosts. peeta's spirit seems trapped in one spot, while she is free to roam. it's heartbreaking. that's why she's outside his room, like an obnoxious, guardian angel. her man and their boy sleep soundly and safely. she can't. and in these moments of being alone, thoughts plague her the worst. so she must check on the young man from twelve, make sure he's okay ... as okay as he can be. he's sleeping - sedated maybe ? annie isn't sure, but nobody seems to be forcing her to leave. so she doesn't. and for hour of night alone, she doesn't expect to see katniss everdeen here too. " i'm sorry i didn't come to visit after everything. " she should have tracked peeta's wife down, given her a warning. she could have told katniss about the state of her husband. she was his neighbor ; annie knew it more soundly than most.

#eventideevent05 #implied violence tw #anxiety tw #disassociation tw #drugging tw #incaensio #* closed / annie .

[jessekestrel]

Breathing

WIP snippet of an one-shot I am working on documenting the tragic effects of scientific experimentation on Caroline for the GLaDOS project and her subsequent death. 

This is incomplete, and may be changed or revised at any time.

Major TWs for violence, death, human experimentation, and blood/gore. Rated Mature. 

Can also be read on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41510211

Caroline let out a horrific scream that felt as if it was ripping and tearing its way out of her bone-dry throat. Her throbbing head slammed onto the growing puddle of her blood in the ground. It was everywhere: on her chest, dripping down her forehead, and in her mouth; the awfully metallic tang of the liquid clinging to her tongue. She croaked out a groan that sounded like the pathetic, dying strains of a cane toad. Not a word could be formed in her throat, for it was hollowed out and strained to its extremity. She knew she was dying. The Aperture torturers discussed test subject deaths as if they were mere flies swatted with a zapper. "Another one gone, huh?" they'd say. "Unfortunately, there isn't much of the body left for science." They chuckled. The images of a young man's gruesome death in the facility forced their way into her mind's eye. His guts splayed out over the floor. The indifference of the researchers when they discovered what remained of him. The unadulterated terror in his eyes as he realized what was happening to him... Caroline forced a hand to her mouth to keep herself from vomiting. She didn't have the energy to retch again. Not even at the abomination of her husband's betrayal. Cave, the wretched bastard. The same man who had been her closest friend and confidante for twenty years had decided to sell his wife out to 'revolutionary' human experimentation efforts for the Devil knows what. What kind of scum-eating, wife-abusing, Hell-dwelling reptile would do such a thing? She clenched her fists so hard she drew blood. Caroline did not care if it was the moon rocks making him insane. Nothing could justify this. Not even if he needed to torture her to stop Shanghai, New York, or London from being nuked to glass. He had given her Hell. Caroline could only hope as she lay writhing in her own blood that her husband was experiencing the real deal. She thought of it and smiled through gritted teeth. If there were a Higher Being, He would avenge Caroline. He would toss Cave into the deepest pits of Dante's Inferno and leave him to rot for eternity. It was only fitting after what that monster did to her, after all. Divine justice must do its job.

A Note on the Title 

The title is inspired by the Kate Bush song of the same time. It is a Kafkaesque, extraordinary, terrifying magnum opus of Kate's phenomenal career that I fail to ascribe the right words to. (Seriously, if you can handle it, go give it a listen.) It is written from the point of view of a spirit being anticipating its death through nuclear annihilation. In its last moments, the being contemplates the horror of its reality, utterly helpless to stop the existential threat. Mortality and the fear of what is called the abyss, the Void, or nothingness are themes integral to both Kate's Breathing and this story.

If you enjoyed this snippet, please let me what I can improve on!  

Syntax, vocabulary, punctuation, grammar, tension, etc. This is my first fanfic work in the Portal fandom, and I have been writing for a short time (5 years) Therefore, this may be of poor quality. I need to be informed on what should be changed.

#tw gore #tw implied domestic violence #tw torture #tw human experimentation #tw death #tw disassociation #portal #I'm so sorry Caroline #you didn't deserve this #portal 2 #portal fanfic #portal fanfiction #glados #portal caroline #cave johnson #wip #one shot #existential dread #caroline #dubious science #aperture laboratories #angst #sad #mortality #tragedy #existential horror #existential fear

[kismetkween]

Where to begin 

I need to learn to balance and maintain the things I love and enjoy before I love something into the ground 

This is strange for me. I chose this blog and name and site, all of it 2 years ago. 1 year and 10 months to be exact. When I thought I was well and ready and going to write and ...... I was in another fit of Mania. I remember reserving all matching domain names on all socials and creating a little design and putting it all on a creator cards. I ordered 1000 and had them in a box. I showed my friends the design at my birthday party and never really touched on it again. I have never had a birthday party so successful. I invited about 40 people thinking maybe one third would come but they all came.  

You see, I had locked myself in my house for about 2.5 years. First with a family situation then the pandemic, then mental health issues and this was my coming out, my reintroduction to society. I was my fattest, at a few lbs shy of 400 and I needed something to show for what I had been doing with all that time locked away. (That was not eating and crying. ) Another issue being the first time seeing most of my friends since developing mild cognitive impairment and there was a pretty credible rumor going around that I had attempted suicide. This mostly came from the 3 months I disappeared at work and my sister being harassed with questions.  

I am riddled with duality, and I want to believe I would not love my friends dearly if they were not sweet and genuinely cared about my wellbeing.... but a magical-friendship-me and realistic-practical-me vary on whether this swell in attendance was morbid curiosity or genuine compassion. Now I know it could be somewhere in the middle. Whereas they maybe simply missed me and were not compelled to feel strongly about it either way. But what is important to remember is that, I acknowledge they did not have to come, especially after 2 years of silence from me. I am very grateful for all the people in my life. I needed them. 

I wanted to show them I was fine, and things were good, but somewhere along the line I thought I had to convince myself of these things first. The issue is though, it was not a facade. I genuinely thought this was my new life, and I was good and okay. I thought I was going to be better. In actuality, it would be another year and a half, the worst years and a complete gutting of life as I know it (and myself ... literally), before I was okay.  

I was writing and that was what was helping, and I ran with it. 

I do this a lot. I will find the one thing that is different, whatever is helping or making a small difference and I will obsess over it. I will try to perfect it and I will make so many rules for it. Over the past few years, I have determined I am not going to "fix myself" but I can try to breathe balance into more aspects of my life.  

"I need to learn to balance and maintain the things I love and enjoy before I love something into the ground." 

I did, I burnt out on writing and as much as it was helping me, it was causing me to face real, challenging, and traumatic issues on a regular basis on a recreational level. This was a very confusing time for me and when I read back it was madness. 

I have always been full of art and constantly attribute it to saving my life, but I have never been one to create anything. I really didn't know where to start and I still don't.  

At this time, I was manic and alive, and for the 1st time in a long time, I didn't want to die.  

Next post I will post a run down a timeline of physical and mental contributions to my wellbeing and my decent into madness. (link coming) 

I am also attaching a writing from my journal in 2022 addressing a strong realization that art was why I was here. 

https://kismetkweenx.wordpress.com/about

#im disassociating #disassociation #personal diary #dear diary #diary entry #diaryposting #diary #digital diary #my diary #online diary #tumblr diary #art journal #journal #journaling #my writing #poetry #spilled poetry #actually mentally ill #mental health #tw sui implied #tw sui ideation #tw sucidal ideation #cognitive decline #cognitive health #mci #spilled writing #spilled words #spilled thoughts

[livingfictionsystem]

[DARK csa gallows humour but the hardest I've laughed in a while]

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

In the inworld, someone put a bomb in the Harvey's house and I'm helping them look for it with wire cutters.

Sparrow legit was like "This is the darkest game of Hide-and-Go-Seek I've played since my step-dad lived with us."

I was like 😱😱😱😬😑🤔🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

We did find it, by the way. I had to have Jack cut the wire because I was practically hyperventilating.

-Xanthe 🪶

#disassociative identity disorder #inworld #xanthe #sparrow #tw csa implied

[strawberry-barista]

⚅— @rubiesintherough asked: —⚅

⚅— "You were pretty out of it." ( page ) —⚅

You Were Unconscious Memes

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

"Yeah...?"

He still felt a little out of it. Relapses were exceptionally rare these days, and anxiety attacks even rarer, but that didn't mean it didn't still occasionally happen. This time, he barely had any memory of what he'd gotten himself into. Travel was good but he'd found a casino and that was all she wrote. He had very few memories of it. He'd known better than to step into that place, but after a moment it was as if he wasn't even in his body. Just watching things happen like an audience on the other side of a screen.

He'd played games until he was dizzy, pushed a stranger away from kissing him, got in a fight. Got in a big fight. No wonder he was so sore. Left without any cash.

Or something like that.

And now he was waking up (waking up? Or "waking up" from his stupor?) On the street with a young lady in front of him. Vibrating through the soul. Surely someone with a powerful sixth sense. She was pretty and kind enough to help a stranger, so there was that. Or did she sense he was dead already? He didn't really see how that was any safer, but here they were...

What a terrible first impression...

"I still feel outta it, a little," his eyes trail down to bloody knuckles. Had he really hit someone that hard? He hoped they were okay... "Shit... I think I fucked up..."

#busy dizzy and lazy ⤙ic⤚⚄ #you still lack in experience ⤙answer⤚⚄ #is this a place to shine? ⤙post neo⤚⚄ #rubiesintherough #implied violence tw #gore tw #relapse tw #disassociation tw #dereality tw #gambling tw #addiction tw #ask to tag

[vent-my-woes]

Fake cal

Not real

Go away fake cal

No one likes you

Fake

Not real

Should die

#tw vent #tw sui ideation #tw sui implied #tw depersonalization #tw derealization #tw disassociation

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Nurture.

Paring: Yan!Geto Suguru x Reader x Yan!Gojo Satoru (JJK).

A Continuation Of Nursle.

Word Count: 11.0k.

TW: Dub/Con, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Imprisonment, Mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Semi-Public Sex, Forced Marriage, Panic Attacks/Disassociation, Mentions of Stalking, and Nonchronological Timelines. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You were never supposed to meet Geto Suguru.

It’d been a misstep in the never-ending trudge that was the cosmic timeline; a mistake on behalf of the universe that left you on the doorstep of his temple, glancing between the rustic entryway and the scrap of paper one of your student’s mothers had slipped into your hand a few weeks prior. “They should be able to help with your little problem,” she’d explained with a wink, a knowing glance towards your stiff shoulders, the dark bags under your eyes. “One visit, and you’ll feel like a teenager again.”

You’d smiled politely and told her that you’d give it a try and shoved her note into a drawer below your desk to be swiftly forgotten. You went to a doctor, then a chiropractor, then a psychologist, then briefly considered making an appointment with a fortune teller before finally relenting and deciding that you were, in fact, desperate enough for a miracle healer. It took three trains, two taxis, and more than a handful of helpful strangers, but you’d arrived at the messily scrawled address in one piece. You could still turn around, try your luck with another specialist, another bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills – sane solutions that sane people fell back on when they encountered problems that sane people had. You could go back to your flat, your ever-growing pile of ungraded tests, and pretend you’d never been here at all. You could do the thing that crazy, desperate people didn’t do, and you could leave.

You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and crossed into the entryway.

An attendant caught you as soon as you’d stepped inside. He was male, middle-aged, wearing the most strained, plastered-on smile you’d ever seen as he bowed his head to you. After a moment of nervous delay, you returned the gesture. “I—Uh, a friend of mine pointed me in your direction,” you stuttered out, doing your best to speak through your anxiety. “She said your head priest could…”

You trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Thankfully, the attendant cut in before you could make yourself look like a complete moron. “Geto-sama?” Impossibly, his smile widened even further. “You’ve come to the right place - he’s a truly miraculous healer. He’s seeing another poor, suffering soul at the moment, but you’re free to wait outside of his sanctuary.”

With a quick nod and a few words of thanks, you were swiftly taken to and abandoned in a small sitting room that, you could only guess, led into the innermost shrine. You sunk into a remarkably uncomfortable wooden chair and managed to sit still for all of three seconds before looking for your next distraction. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find.

Two girls sat on the other side of the room; sisters, you guessed, if not twins. One (Mimiko – it’d still be a few days before you learned her name) was perched on the edge of a chair identical to your own while the other (Nanako) sat cross-legged on the floor between her legs, fiddling with a hand-held console as her sister tried and failed to braid her hair. You couldn’t help yourself – a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watched Mimiko clumsily fumble with the messily divided strands of hair, her frustration written clearly across her expression. You’d always been comfortable around kids, as much as you never wanted to have your own. You didn’t know much about healing priests or mystic illnesses, but you knew how to handle a struggling seven-year-old.

When she looked away from her work, seeming to notice you for the first time, you offered her a bright smile, a quick wave. “Having a hard time?” you asked, gesturing towards her messy handiwork. “I can show you a few tricks, if you’d like.”

There was a long moment of hesitation, a quick look shared with her sister. “I understand if you don’t trust my credentials, but…” You fished out a few spare hair-ties out of your pocket: bright pink and adorned with equally garish bows, the color and design enough to make Nanako’s eyes light up. One of your more absent-minded students tended to forget hers, and you’d gotten into the habit of carrying a healthy stockpile on her behalf. “I did bring my own supplies.”

A few minutes later, you found yourself dutifully combing out Mimiko’s hair while Nanako admired her new pigtails. They seemed reluctant to talk to you, but you did your best to make polite conversation – well, as much as you could with two stand-offish grade schoolers. “Are you two waiting for someone?”

Mimiko pursed her lips, but Nanako wasn’t so shy. “Our dad,” she filled in, the kind of pride only an idealistic child could have for a parent heavy in her voice. “He hates monkeys.”

“Oh.” You did your best to sound surprised, rather than confused. “Does he work for the temple?”

“Mhm – he’s really strong, and super important.” She waited for you to num in acknowledgement, then went on. “You’re here to see him, right? He can definitely help you, if you are.”

Your hands faltered, a lock of Mimiko’s hair slipping out of your loose hold. “Your father’s… the head priest?”

Nanako nodded enthusiastically, and for the first time, Mimiko chimed in, “He’ll probably get rid of your creepy friend.”

This time, you stopped moving entirely. “I’m sorry, my friend?”

Mimiko glanced over her shoulder, moved to speak, but the screen door leading into the shrine slid open before she could answer you. It wasn’t an attendant, this time, but a man in monk’s garb with hair that reached past his shoulders and a grin less strained but just as artificial as that of his attendants. Geto Suguru, although it’d still be some time before you knew to call him that.

His dark eyes found you first, before moving to his daughters. “Girls,” he started, tone more playful than chiding. “Are you bothering my guests?”

The twins exchanged a long, weighty look before Nanako pushed herself to her feet and hurried to her father’s side. With a sigh of mock exasperation, he leaned down, letting her whisper something into his ear as you rushed to finish Mimiko’s braid. You couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it was enough to earn a pair of pursed lips from Suguru, a languid shake of his head. Without responding to her, he straightened his back, already ushering you inside. You took a deep breath, then followed him into the shrine.

He made no attempt to put on a show of false hospitality. Wordlessly, he left you loitering in the center of the very empty, very large room while he stepped onto a raised platform and collapsed onto his side, propping his elbow on a cushioned, stand-alone armrest. This time, when he sighed, it seemed to be out of a more genuine exhaustion, his eyes falling shut briefly as he propped his chin on his fist and brought his free hand to his temples. “I have to apologize for my daughters. If I could watch them constantly, it still wouldn’t be enough.” He opened his eyes, and instantly, you felt the full weight of his stare. If it hadn’t been a feeling you were so used to, it might’ve been enough to send a chill down your spine. “Now, how can I be of service to you?”

You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to fidget. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, lately. There’s been this weight on my back, like—”

“Like you’re being watched?”

He spoke confidently, as if answering a question he’d written himself. With your hands clenched into fists at your sides, you nodded. Suguru’s head lulled to the side, his smile taking on a satisfied lilt. “I thought so. Tell me – have you had any scorned lovers in the past? Boyfriends, fiancés, that type of thing?”

“A stalker,” you admitted. “But, he passed a few months ago. There was an accident, and—”

This time, he cut you off with a snap of his fingers. It was brief, barely a flash of movement, but you caught something in the corner of your eye – an amorphous shape perched above your right shoulder, a thousand eyes spotted across its baggy skin and a hundred curling tentacles wrapped around your arms, your chest, your stomach. You shut your eyes, winced, and when you opened them again, the creature was gone and Suguru held a small, pitch-black marble between his thumb and forefinger. He took a second to evaluate it before letting out an approving hum and bringing the marble to his lips, swallowing it whole. In your shock, it didn’t even occur to you to look away.

“These things tend to linger.” It was a meager explanation, but you accepted it whole-heartedly. For the first time in months, you were able to straighten your back, to drop your shoulders, to stand up without a single part of you crying out in protest. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so relieved.

“Thank you,” you nearly gasped, bowing at the waist. “Oh my god, I— I don’t have much money, but—”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask for compensation. Consider this—” A click of his tongue, a roll of his wrist. “—a favor between friends. The most I could ask for is a little of your time, in return.”

You would’ve given him your first-born child, if he’d asked for it. “Of course, anything. I really can’t thank you enough, sir.”

“It’s just— I’ve been trying to find a tutor for my daughters for the longest time, and they already seem fond of you.” For the first time since you’d stepped into his shrine, he sat up, facing you directly. “I understand that you’re a teacher?”

You left the temple a few minutes later, a new number programmed into your phone and a smile brighter than anything you’d worn in years painted across your lips.

~

You moved in with Satoru the same day he met Himari – as much being told to shove everything you couldn’t live without in a bag because you wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment could be called moving. You would’ve fought it more, but he’d been holding your daughter, and you couldn’t take that kind of risk with her. Not again.

Time seemed to pass in slow, thick clumps. Hours would pass in the blink of an eye and seconds would drag on and on and on until you couldn’t stand the idea of pretending you cared, anymore. A nursery was thrown together in one of Satoru’s guestrooms. When you mentioned that you’d never slept so far from her, Satoru cooed and kissed your cheek.

“It’ll be alright, baby. I’ve got enough monitors to last ‘till she’s eighteen. And, no offense, they’re a little more reliable than what you’ve been using.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll want her sharing a room with us.”

Something pricked at the back of your throat. “I could sleep in here, with—”

“Nope.” He was kind enough to shut you down before you could so much as start to get your hopes up. “Honestly, she should count herself lucky I’m willing to share at all.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Instead, you closed your eyes, and when you found the strength to open them again, the world was dark and your body was cold.

~

Once the novelty wore off, you fell into a steady routine. Once or twice a week, you’d make the trip to Suguru’s temple and do your best to drill seven years’ worth of public education into Mimiko and Nanako while their father saw his unfortunate visitors. They were smart girls, even if they were more interested in your love life than multiplication tables, and when you thought about Suguru had done for you, you couldn’t say you minded spending a few hours of your weekend in a scenic, rural temple surrounded by Suguru’s (sometimes off-putting, but never unpleasant) congregation.

It took two months before you saw Suguru’s composure slip. It’d been a mistake – an accident on your part as much as it was on his – but you hadn’t thought of it in such fatalistic terms in the moment.

You kept your hands in your pockets as you wandered through the temple’s courtyard, stretching your legs while the girls finished a worksheet on long division (chosen by Nanako over English contractions, much to Mimiko’s protest). Idly, eager to give them as much time as you could, you made your way around the inner sanctum’s perimeter, rounding a sharp corner before abruptly coming to a stop.

Geto sat on the edge of the raised porch, eyes closed and his shoulder braced against the side of a support beam. You moved to flee, to apologize for interrupting his meditation, but you noticed his hunched posture, his slightly parted lips, and let out a breath of a laugh, your panic fading into pity.

Ah, the poor thing.

He was so tired, he’d fallen asleep sitting up.

As little as you’d expected to see a grown man sleeping in public, you weren’t surprised. Suguru was always running himself ragged; either hosting guests or holding sermons or running errands on the temple’s behalf, always coming back with a certain weight to his steps and an off-kilter quirk to his smile. With a sigh, you kneeled next to him and after a moment of hesitation, shrugged off your coat, taking care not to wake him as you draped it over his shoulders. Immediately, he relaxed – an ounce of the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he slumped into himself. You’d considered waking him up, but decided against it. Your own months of sleepless nights and never-ending days were still fresh in your memory. You didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on a few precious minutes of much-needed rest.

You heard a screen door slide open, a high-pitched voice call your name from the other side of the temple. You pushed yourself to your feet, but paused, spared another glance toward Suguru. It was a stupid, spontaneous thing to do, you didn’t give yourself time to think better of it before brushing his bangs away from his face and pressing a kiss into his forehead – the kind of kiss you’d give to one of your students in the wake of scraped knees and playground arguments. When he failed to stir, you pulled back and crossed your arms over your chest, doing your best to keep yourself warm as you started back to where his girls were waiting for you.

~

Satoru was at your door as soon as the bell rang.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you must’ve known he wouldn’t give up old patterns so easily. He loitered in the hallway while your hyper-active students filtered out, slipped inside as the last of the stranglers did their best not to gawk at the inhumanely tall stranger with unnaturally white hair. By the time he crossed the threshold, you and Megumi were the only ones left, the latter dutifully waiting for his daily busy work at the corner of your desk.

Satoru acknowledged him with a click of his tongue, a quick ruffle to Megumi’s hair before he moved onto you. “There’s my pretty girl,” he half-said, half-sung as he slung an arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest. “Had you on my mind all day. Couldn’t stop wishin’ I had your pretty ti—”

You cleared your throat into your hand, nodding pointedly towards Megumi. Satoru’s grin faltered, then collapsed into a pursed-lipped frown. He didn’t say anything, but his thumb dug into your shoulder, his cruel eyes flickering to you over the dark lenses of his glasses. You didn’t need any further instruction. If Suguru taught you anything, it’d been how to get rid of unwanted company.

“Megumi.” You waved him toward you, and despite the mix of distrust and exasperation written clearly across his expression, he stepped forward. Still, you braced yourself before going on. As little as you wanted to associate him with Satoru, to blame him for what Satoru did to you, you hadn’t been able to meet his eyes all day. Whenever you looked at him, you couldn’t help but think about Himari, and whenever you thought about Himari—

“You usually walk home with Tsumiki today, right?” He didn’t, but you couldn’t think of a better excuse. Lately, it was all you could do to put one word in front of another, let alone actually manage to clear away enough of the thick, buzzing static clouding your mind to form an intelligent thought. “You should really get going, before she starts to think you left without her.”

His gaze dropped to the ground. He mumbled something just a breath below audible, and you forced yourself to smile. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with him.” His tone was clipped, his eyes narrowed. “He’s… He’s gross, and weird, and you shouldn’t talk to him.”

If he’d been any other kid, if Satoru had been any other adult, you might’ve laughed, chided him for speaking so rudely about his elders. Instead, you only sighed, your smile faltering as you brought a hand to his shoulder. “We’re just going to have a little chat, that’s all. I promise, I’ll be just fine when we see each other tomorrow.” You paused, lowered your voice into something playfully conspiratorial. “Between you and me, I think he’s pretty weird too. Thanks for looking out for me.”

His scowl deepened, but he didn’t protest. After tossing one more glare in Satoru’s direction, he trudged out of your classroom, letting the door slam behind him. You didn’t have time to feel relief or dread or much of anything before Satoru was on top of you – his knee planted between your thighs, one of his hands groping at your waist while the other caught your chin, holding you in place while his lips crashed into yours, the kiss mess and open-mouthed and desperate. “The brat’s annoying,” he muttered, as he pulled away. “But I can’t say I don’t see where he’s coming from. If you’d been my teacher, I don’t think I would’ve been able to stop myself from bending you over your desk ‘n earning a little extra credit.”

A wave of nausea washed over you. You couldn’t stop yourself from buckling forward, but Satoru had already moved on, found his way to the side of your neck. “Please, don’t talk about my students like—”

Your voice gave out as he bit down – burying his teeth in your throat in less of a love-bite and more of an effort to eat you alive. You barely managed to stop yourself from crying out, but panic quickly swallowed whatever pain you might’ve felt. It’d leave a mark, one you wouldn’t be able to hide, not completely. Against your will, your mind flashed to Megumi and, if you’d been just a little weaker, you might’ve collapsed, passed out while Satoru lapped the blood now trickling down your throat. If you’d been just a little luckier, you might’ve fallen apart entirely.

Your hands shot to his hair, and Satoru let out a throaty groan. His hands fell to your thighs, and before you could so much as think to struggle, you were laid across your desk, folders and worksheets pushed aside in favor of trapping your body underneath his. “Always wanted to do this,” he muttered into your shoulder, already pulling your skirt to your waist. “Might have to go into teaching, too – just so you can return the favor.”

He might’ve gone on, but you were done listening.

You would have to request a change of classroom, tomorrow morning.

~

Nanako returned your coat to you a week later, rolling on the balls of her feet and grinning from ear to ear.

You saw Suguru more often, after that.

Granted, not too often, and never for very long. He was still a busy man, and most of your interactions were limited to minute-long conversations as you found each other heading in the same direction, a few niceties exchanged as you dropped Nanako and Mimiko off at the door of his shrine. He never struck you as overly guarded, but you could count the number of times you’d heard him speak about himself on a single hand. If it hadn’t been for his girls, you probably would never have learned his given name.

Winter had begun its swift and relentless approach, and you found yourself standing outside of the temple’s gates, watching the sun slip below the horizon and debating if it would be worth it to cough up the cash for a taxi, rather than dragging yourself through the labyrinth that was public transportation in the dark. As you checked your phone for the dozenth time, you caught a flash of movement in your peripheral and glanced up only to find Suguru – changed out of his monk’s garb and into a plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants that made him look more like an exhausted college student than the head of his own temple. He nodded to you by way of greeting, and you flashed him a smile. “Waiting for someone?”

“Something like that.” You looked back to your phone and sighed. “I might have to make our next session a little earlier. I forgot how dark it could get and, well, you know what it’s like in the city.”

You withered, but Suguru only brightened. “Let me give you a ride.”

“Are you sure? I’d hate to—”

“Please, (Y/n).” You could see why he had such a dedicated congregation. When he spoke, it was impossible not to listen. “Just think of it as a favor between friends.”

You wanted to refuse, to tell him not to waste his time, but a streetlamp buzzed to life somewhere above you and the last trace of your resolve crumbled. A few minutes later, you were in the back of a sleek, black car – Suguru sitting next to you and his driver hidden behind a tinted partition. More time than you would’ve liked passed in tense silence before you, more motivated by discomfort than gratitude, broke the quiet. “I was surprised when I found out Nanako and Mimiko were homeschooled.” Before he could respond, you realized how it must’ve sounded and tried to backtrack. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! It’s just—you’re always so busy, and they’re such bright girls. I’m sure that, if you ever did want to get them enrolled, they’d do very well. It’d free up a lot of your time, too.”

You thought you saw him wince, but it could’ve just been a trick of the light. By the time you turned to face him properly, his expression was unreadable – his lips pulled into a thin line and his dark eyes focused on some unseen point in the distance. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this,” he admitted, before letting an airy sigh. “But… I made a lot of bad choices, when I first took them in. The were a bad situation, and I was young and stupid, and I— I think I might’ve fucked things up. For them, at least. I probably would’ve ended up in the same place eventually.” Another sigh, a lengthy pause. When he went on, his tone was heavier, his usual confidence greatly diminished, if not absent entirely. “…you don’t think I made a mistake, do you?”

You took a second to think, letting your eyes fall to your lap. “I don’t,” you said, finally. “The girls seem happy, and you’re providing for them. They won’t have normal lives, but—” You hummed, shrugged. “Who does?”

He seemed to relax, the harsh edges of his expression dulling. His eyes shifted to you. “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate at all, shaking your head with a slight smile. “Consider it,” You let your tone dip into something teasing and secretive, raising your chin the way he tended to when talking to guests and members of his congregation. “a favor between friends.”

Your showmanship earned a dry chuckle, a softened gaze. After a long beat, he asked, “Would you mind if I, uh…” He trailed off, tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Would you mind if I tried something?”

Now, it was your turn to laugh. You’d assumed he was in his mid-twenties, but he must’ve been younger – he was acting like a teenager. “Go ahead, Suguru.”

Despite your reassurance, he stalled for a few seconds before, more than a little stiltedly, bending at his waist and resting his head gingerly on your lap. It was an awkward position, the back of the car too cramped for him to lay down properly, but his eyes fell shut and after the initial shock faded, you could only smile, raising a hand and combing your fingers idly through his hair. When you pulled the elastic band holding his half-bun together out of place, letting his hair fall loose over your thighs, he didn’t protest, only going that much more limp on top of you.

You two stayed that way for the rest of the trip; his head in your lap, your finger carding through his hair, the only noise that of traffic and the occasional muted hum when your attention started to drift. It was only when his driver pulled onto the curb in front of your complex that Suguru raised his head, blinking himself back into consciousness. You turned to let yourself out, only to feel him take up one of your hands – his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You didn’t have time to ask him what he was doing before you felt him cup your cheek, before you felt his mouth against yours.

The kiss was gentle but warm, shallow but lingering. He held you there, his lips barely yours, for a second, then another, before you snapped out of it and pulled away – your disgust as immediate as it was it was self-concentrated. If Suguru felt the same way, he hid it well. You could only make out the slightest trace of hurt in the down-turned corners of his parted lips.

He started to say something, but you were already rushing to apologize. “I’m sorry, Suguru. You’re a sweet kid, but I’m—” You forced yourself to laugh, the noise jolting and strained. “I’m nearly twice your age.”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t care how old you are.”

“Exactly.” You shook your head, dragging a hand over your face. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been more clear about, I don’t know,” You gestured vaguely. “—everything. And I should really—”

Again, you moved to leave, and again, he stopped you. This time, he caught you by the wrist. “I’m not a kid.” You tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened. You felt something in your forearm begin to ache. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you how serious I am.”

“Absolutely not.” You pried the door open and jerked away from him just in time to stumble out of his car and onto the pavement. You saw his posture straighten, his body tense as if he was going to try to lunge at you, but mercifully, he must’ve thought better of it. His anger was, instead, focused entirely into his unblinking stare, and you did your best to speak in spite of the way his eyes burnt into your chest. “I… I think it would be for the best if we didn’t see each other, for a while. Tell the girls I’m out of town, and—” You swallowed, dryly. “—I think you should get some rest, Suguru. You need it.”

As awful as it made you feel, you slammed the door shut before he could respond. He didn’t try to chase you, but his car hadn’t moved by the time you made it to your flat. With your doors locked and your blinds pulled shut, you watched it until, hours after midnight, you nodded off.

He was gone when you woke up, and you could only hope he’d be mature enough to mind his distance.

~

Satoru’s face was buried between your thighs when you heard his phone ring, his hands curled around your thighs and your body perched on the edge of one of his rarely used marble counters. You would’ve missed it entirely if you’d been a little closer to the edge, if he’d been just a little nosier as he moaned and grunted into your cunt, but you weren’t, and he wasn’t, and the sound of that melodic dial-tone cut through the haze like a knife through fog (relatively ineffective, but still violent enough to draw attention). You straightened as much as you could, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, gently. “Satoru, I think—”

“It’s not important,” he muttered against your thigh, drawing back just far enough to be audible. “’s probably just the kids. They said they were coming over, but—” He flashed you a smile, bright eyes catching the light. “They can wait ‘till we’re done. I can’t just leave my pretty girl unsatisfied.”

Immediately, the haze stiffened and shattered into a panic-inducing, heart-racing clarity. You straightened, cursed under your breath, but Satoru tongue was already lapping over your soaked slit, the bridge of his nose grinding against your clit as he all-but worshipped your pussy. This time, you didn’t tug, but pulled – doing what little you could to pry him off of you, but all you earned was a throaty whine, his fingertips dug that much deeper into the plush of your ass. His tongue bullied its way past your clenching entrance, curling and thrusting, and it took everything you had not to snap your thighs shut around his head, not to give him what he wanted. “Satoru,” you spat, using the same tone you’d put on for a misbehaving student. “S-stop.”

It was more of an instinct than a decision, more of a reflex than a choice, but either way, it didn’t seem to make a difference. With his eyes blearily focused on your expression, his mouth latched onto your pussy like it was the last thing he’d ever taste, he fucked you open with his tongue until your toes were curling, your legs twitching, your vision burning pure white in a way that made you wish you could give up on sight altogether. He nursed you through your climax until the last of your energy was spent before pushing himself to his feet and slamming his mouth into yours – his teeth cutting into your lips and your taste heavy on his tongue. By the time he pulled away, you were panting and he was wearing that awful, careless grin. You never thought you’d miss Suguru’s calculated smile, and yet.

And yet.

You didn’t have time to be angry. The kids came first – a thought that, if you’d given yourself a chance to linger on it, would’ve been more of a cause for concern. “Go clean yourself up, I’ll take care of the kitchen. Call them back as soon as you’re finished.”

“I love it when you get bossy,” he said, with a dreamy sigh. “It’s hot in a, like, ‘put me over your knee and spank me’ way, y’know?”

Your only response was a quick shake of your head, a repulsed curl of your lips. Satoru only laughed, pecking your cheek and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “They’ll love you. Megumi likes to act shy, but he can’t shut up about you. Tsumiki’ll just be ecstatic to have a baby sister,” he mumbled into your throat. “You wouldn’t break their hearts, would you?”

It might’ve hurt less, if there hadn’t already been two little girls somewhere in Japan who knew that you absolutely would.

~

You called Suguru from the curb in front of your flat, your head in your hands and tears streaming openly down your cheeks. He let it ring once, twice, before answering. You could practically hear the smile in his voice, practically feel the smugness in his tone. “I thought we weren’t talking, dear?”

You swallowed back another ragged sob. “It’s back.”

He was there within the hour – alone, this time, no girls and no driver. You stayed where you were as he let himself into your flat, returning only a few minutes later with a thoughtful hum and a thin frown playing on his lips. “It’s rare, but it does happen,” he started, as he sat down next to you. He was dressed in street clothes, rather than his monk’s garb. Somehow, that only made it more difficult to look at him. “Particularly restless spirits can lie dormant before reappearing stronger and more attached to their living host. A standard exorcism might no longer be enough to banish it.”

You felt something heavy and pointed drop into the pit of your stomach. Calling it 'stronger' was an understatement – you couldn’t believe something so massive, something so awful had ever been attached to you. When you let your mind wander, you could still see its dripping, pitch-black arms writhing over the walls and ceiling of your bedroom, still feel its countless eyes burning into you – a hundred, no, a thousand times worse than it’d been when Suguru had first sent it away. You buckled at the waist, burying your face in your knees, and Suguru rested a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles into your shoulder. You were thankful for the comfort, even if it would’ve taken you another few weeks to completely forget the feeling of his hand around your wrist. “Can you…” You cringed, shrunk into yourself. “Can you help?”

“Oh, absolutely.” If he’d been just a little more cocky, he would’ve been purring. “But I’m afraid it’ll cost you more than a favor, this time.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“I know.” His hand went still, settling on your shoulder. “But I need you to give me something, this time.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Anything,” you repeated, with all the desperation of a sinner laid bare before the altar. “Please, Suguru. Anything.”

“I need an heir.”

You could practically feel your heart split open and shatter inside of you. “…an heir?”

“For the sake of my congregation,” he said, like that explained anything. “We’ll have to get married first, of course. You’ll be taken care of until the child’s born, and then, you’ll be free to go.” His hand fell to your own, squeezing gently. “Or to stay with us, if that’s what you prefer.”

Any other time, the idea alone would’ve been enough to make you sick. Any other day, you would’ve told him that he could have anything, anything but that.

But, in the moment, all you could seem to think about was your flat and the monster inside of it. You felt yourself nod and, before you could take it back, heard Suguru laugh, felt his lips against your temple. “You’re making the right choice,” he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. “I love you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it back.

~

Tsumiki and Megumi were asleep in the guest room turned makeshift nursery. Megumi had been slow to warm, quick to hear Satoru introduce you as his ‘one and only’ and assume the worst (which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly wrong), but Tsumiki hadn’t been so stand-offish, and ultimately, whatever concerns an eight year old could have for your safety crumbled under his sister’s desire to fawn over your newborn. You were glad. You didn’t want him to worry about you. That was a mistake you’d made with Nanako and Mimiko. You’d let Suguru give them a reason to care if you left, and then, you’d left.

Your gaze drifted to Himari. She’d always loved attention (a trait you could only assume she’d inherited from her father), and she’d spent most of the afternoon and the entire evening basking in Tsumiki and Megumi’s adoration. Currently, she was sitting in your lap, giggling and clapping her hands together as you idly bounced her on your knee. The sight alone was enough to make your heart soar – any thoughts of Satoru and his wards fading into the background as you leaned forward and peppered her tiny face with kisses. It was a miracle that you loved her at all, let alone as much as you did. Pregnancy hadn’t been kind to you, and it wasn’t until the moment she was born that you could stand to think of yourself as a mother of a child, rather than just the incubator to a cultist’s pipedream. You’d never wanted children, but now that you had one, you couldn’t imagine letting anything in the world take her away from you.

Maybe, if he’d been a little kinder to her, if he hadn’t already had two daughters to spoil and adore, you might’ve been able to justify loving Himari less than you did, might’ve been able to leave her in his care when you pried a window open and fled in the middle of the night. He’d never been cruel to her, but no part of you believed that he wouldn’t have been if she’d failed to do what she’d been made for – if your love for her hadn’t been enough to keep you by his side. Even if you hadn’t loved her at all, you still would’ve taken her with you. No child deserved to be left in the care of a monster like Suguru.

You choose, deliberately, to only think about Himari, to tell yourself that you only ever had to think about Himari. You couldn’t afford to break your own heart a second time.

Choosing not to think about Megumi and Tsumiki proved more difficult.

~

It was a courthouse wedding, the ceremony little more than a few signatures and a hesitant ‘congratulations’ from the officiant. Suguru’s assistant – a blonde woman who looked at you with equal parts sympathy and disgust – acted as the witness. Suguru explained that, after your first child was born, there would be a more elaborate ceremony, something with rings and dresses and flowers that the girls could participate in. You were too dissociated to point out that there wasn’t supposed to be anything after the child was born, let alone something that would leave you that much more bound to him.

You expected him to take you back to your flat, or the villa on the outskirts of the city you’d visited a handful of times when he couldn’t meet you at his temple, but instead, you found yourself standing in front of one of the tallest, brightest hotels you’d ever seen. “It is a special occasion,” he said, as you stared blankly at the entrance. “I wouldn’t be a good husband if I didn’t spoil my wife now and then, right?”

“Please,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say, my love.” His smile was giddier than you’d ever seen it, amusement heavy in his voice. “Let me give you a hand.”

The interior was no less agonizing than the exterior. You could feel a hundred pairs of eyes burning into you as you hung off Surugu’s arm, your own legs too weak to be trusted to support you. Rather than relief, dread coiled in the pit of your stomach as he led you to your room – a suite on the highest floor. You considered, briefly, trying to tell him that you were afraid of heights, but decided against it. Even in your own head, it sounded too childish to be believable, and you couldn’t imagine dragging this out for a second longer than it absolutely had to be.

You stepped into the room and were immediately reminded that Suguru had been the one to make the arrangements. A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice on a velvet-cushioned ottoman. Bouquets of roses and their disembodied petals had been carefully spread across every possible surface – painting the room with misshapen splotches of bright red. A colorless atrocity of white silk and lace had been laid across the king-sized bed. You got close enough to recognize it for what it was (bridal lingerie, veil and all) before turning away and collapsing onto the foot of the bed, your vision blurry and your heart racing.

You felt your mouth go dry, your throat tighten, but you forced yourself to speak. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the silence. “Am I—” A pause, a distraught glance towards the monstrosity. “Am I supposed to wear that?”

“I might’ve been a little overzealous,” he admitted, stepping in front of you. Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee, taking your hands in his. “I’ll be gentle, if that’s what you’re worried about. The only thing I want you to feel is pleasure.” He brought the underside of your wrist to his lips. “I love you.”

You couldn’t be sure what it was. How sincere he sounded, maybe, or how young he looked kneeling in front of you, away from his temple and out of his costume. He kissed the back of your hand, and a ragged sob tore past your lips, all the tears you hadn’t been able to shed during the ceremony suddenly beading in the corners of your eyes. As you tried to keep them at bay with your free hand, Suguru’s smile wavered, and for the first time that you’d seen, fell away completely.

He posed the question softly, carefully. You wished he would’ve been just a little more eager to break you. At least, then, you could’ve hated him for it. “…you really don’t want to do this, do you?”

There was no point trying to lie. You shook your head and watched as Suguru deflated. His eyes had always been dark, but in that moment, you could’ve sworn they’d never seen any light at all.

Before you could brace yourself, his mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise. You tasted blood, felt his tongue rake over yours; whatever gentleness he’d promised to show you little more than a distant fantasy. As his mouth moved against yours, his hand slipped under your dress – two fingers dragging over your slit through your panties before his thumb found your clit through the thin material and he pushed a rough, impulsive pattern into the sensitive bud. You shrunk into yourself, your hands finding their way to his chest before you could stop yourself from trying to push him away, but Suguru didn’t seem to care, to notice. Your panties were torn away entirely, and like a man possessed, he fell back to his knees between your open legs and started to devour you whole.

Your thighs were pulled onto his shoulders, his hands curled around your hips as the flat of his tongue laved over your slit, teasing the entrance of your pussy and flicking over your clit. He alternated between tracing vague figure-eights into your cunt and lapping up the slick starting to drip from your poor, confused pussy – your exhausted body eager to accept any affection Suguru had to show you, if you could even call what he was forcing onto your affection. You tried to reach for him, to pull him away from, but you failed to so much as make contact before he let out a near-violent snarl, calloused fingertips burrowing into vulnerable flesh as he pulled you that much closer, hauling your ass off the bed and leaving you on your back, your arms crossed over your face and your ankles crossed over his back. You sobbed openly, now, but your disparate cries were interrupted by cracked whimpers and half-swallowed mewls – little, pathetic sounds you didn’t have the strength to suppress. Suguru didn’t stop. Honestly, you would’ve been surprised if he could hear you at all over the sound of his own heady panting, of his tongue fucking into your now-soaked cunt.

You almost regretted not taking him back to your flat that first night – when he kissed you like you were the most delicate thing in the world. If you’d given in right away, he might’ve had the self-restraint to hold back. Or, to try to, at least.

One of his hands left your waist, falling low enough for the pad of his thumb to press into your clit. Messily, roughly, he toyed with the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue thrust shallowly into your cunt, curling and splitting apart the hot, clenching walls of your pussy. You felt a deep, full-chested moan reverberate up the length of your spine, and that was enough to leave you tumbling over the edge, to leave your thighs clenching around his head as you came undone on his tongue. He ate you out through the aftershocks, but didn’t stop - fucking you open with his tongue until you’d stumbled through another climax, then another, a mix of slick and saliva soon coating his chin and staining the sheets below you. By the time he pulled away, you were crying not from despair, but overstimulation; pangs of pure heat searing your nerves and leaving your cunt aching for reprieve. You were only vaguely aware of the mattress dipping beside you, of his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you for what felt like the hundredth time. As his lips pressed into yours, you decided that, if tonight was the last time you ever had to kiss someone, it wouldn’t be so bad. Not when compared to the alternative.

“I love you,” he mumbled, and then again as he pulled away, “I love you.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your voice felt like something you were no longer entitled to use; a vague concept that’d been placed at an inconceivable distance by some cruel deity. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Suguru bare his teeth in frustration. Your dress wasn’t so much removed as it was torn away from you, and you couldn’t help but wither without it. Modesty could only count so much when you could still see your arousal coating his lips, but still, it hurt.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulled you into the center of the bed and haphazardly dragged his shirt over his head. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d seen his bare arms plenty of times, watched him lift Nanako and Mimiko clean off the ground without so much as a trace of strain, and yet, something inside of you still curled up and died as your eyes raked over his sculpted chest, the corded muscle that seemed to cover every inch of him. More out of shock than anything, you moved to sit up, to put some distance between yourself and a man who looked like he could’ve torn your head off your shoulders on a whim, but he was quick to stop you, to press a palm into your chest and force you back onto the bed. With his other hand, he dragged his pants down just far enough to free his cock and, instantly, whatever desolation you might’ve felt at the sight of his bare chest was multiplied ten-fold.

You didn’t realize you were shaking your head until you moved to speak, your voice shaking and small. “That’s not going to—”

“It will.” That authority – that tone of absolute control – was back in full force. Still, you couldn’t seem to make yourself believe him. “I won’t stop until it does.”

Your heart fell into your stomach as he dragged his swollen, leaking tip over your pussy – the flushed head catching on your abused clit and drawing an airy whimper past your lips. He was, by far, the biggest man you’d ever seen, let alone slept with. As if that wasn’t enough, he was already harder than you knew someone could be – thick, pearly beads dripping from his tip and down his shaft, his more prominent veins almost pulsing as he aligned with your entrance. Even his balls were fucking huge.

Fit for a breeder, something vicious and awful whispered into the back of your mind. You tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t disagree.

Your eyes darted to his expression and met his, already blearily focused on you. You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was stolen away from you as his hips bucked forward and he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

You’d been right, when you’d tried to stop him.

He was going to kill you.

Already, he was too much. A fresh wave of tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his cock threatened to tear you apart. Suguru let out a raspy groan, his head falling forward and he drew back, pulling out of you until only his head remained in your pussy only to snap his hip and bury himself that much deeper, only to stretch you that much further. “See?” One his hands fell to your lower stomach, the heel of his palm pressing into the soft flesh like he could feel the outline of his cock. He might’ve been able to. You were too scared to check. “You’re a perfect fit.”

There was another grunt, another breathy groan as he fell into an unsteady pace – every thrust brutal and back-breaking. His hands found their way to the headboard, curling around its upper edge as he fucked into you. He didn’t so much find the right spot as find a way to hit every spot constantly, his cock filling your pussy to the brim, leaving you desperately trying to clench down around him to no avail. A high-pitched whine – fractured and pathetic – tore past your lips, and Suguru let out an airy chuckle. “Not gonna be able to get enough of this.” His pubic bone scraped against your clit and you threw your head back, your back arching off of the mattress. Your sensitivity was rewarded with another laugh, a hand brought down just to grope idly at your chest. “I can’t let you out of my sight, from now own. I think I’ll lose my mind if I have to go a day without feeling this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

It was hard to think, let alone piece two words together. Still, you managed to spit something out, fighting to speak above the sound of skin against skin, hips against hips. “B-but, you said— the baby—”

“Fuck the baby. This—” He slapped your clit, his touch harsh enough to make you cry out. “—is all mine.”

A hand around your throat, a new brutality to his thrusts. His grip wasn’t tight, he wasn’t choking you, and yet, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything other than his cock and the feeling of your cunt being split open around it. “You’re mine.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded relieved. “And you always will be.”

Meeting Suguru had been a mistake. Asking for his help had been a mistake. Agreeing to this terrible deal had been a mistake.

But, cumming around his cock as that final possessive sentiment trickled past his lips was the biggest mistake you’d ever made or ever would make, again.

Your cunt clamped down around him – a vice around his cock. With your fists balled around satin sheets and your legs wrapped around his waist, your body convulsed underneath his, your pussy doing everything in its limited power to milk him dry. You heard Suguru curse under his breath, his hips pushing flush against yours as something thick and searing flooded into your cunt. What little managed to leak out around the base of his cock was caught with two fingers and forced back in; no drop wasted.

With a heavy exhale, Suguru dipped lower, his lips grazing over your cheek, then the curve of your neck. You shut your eyes, letting yourself deflate. It was over. No matter how you might’ve felt, no matter how much you might’ve wanted to crawl out of your skin, it was ov—

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulled out of you, only to push back in; his rough, punishing pace only made slightly more bearably by the weight of his orgasm.

The next morning, you’d wake up to Suguru’s arm around your waist and a pregnancy test on the bedside table. It’d be too early to tell, but you wouldn’t bother to so much as open the box. Nothing could’ve kept Suguru from trying again, and again, and again in the days to follow.

Come to think of it, you couldn’t be sure if he ever stopped.

~

“How long is this supposed to last?”

Megumi and Tsumiki were walking a few yards ahead of you, stopping to stare into every other shop window before running ahead, and Himari was currently tucked against Satoru’s chest, occupying herself with a thorough (albeit, mostly oral) investigation of the collar of his shirt. You couldn’t cook and Satoru refused to do much of anything before noon, so the only choice left was to chase after promises of crepe trucks and cafes. Your question earned a hum, a glance toward you, but not much more. As little as you liked about Satoru, you were thankful he had such an even temper. Suguru was never so slow to react.

“Forever, preferably,” he answered, with a slight shrug. “Or until I die, at least – sorcerers have a pretty high mortality rate. I’m the best at what I do, but even the strongest ant gets crushed eventually.” He paused, pressed a quick kiss into the top of Himari’s head. “I’ll make sure to leave a big trust fund, though. You’re gonna be living off your daddy for a long, long time.”

You let your eyes fall to the sidewalk. “You don’t have to pretend you care about her. I know you’re only doing this because of him.”

If he’d denied it immediately, you wouldn’t have believed him. If he’d sworn that Suguru had nothing to do with it, if he’d dropped to his knees in front of you, if he’d told you that he loved you, you wouldn’t have believed him. But, in the end, he only pursed his lips, his head lulling to the side as he considered it. “At first, yeah,” he admitted, tracing patterns into Himari’s back. “I heard that he’d gotten with someone and… I got curious. I guess I was a little jealous.” He paused, his tone abrupt going light and sheepish. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, in retrospect – making the brats go to your school and following you around and all. I just wanted to see what kind of person could make Suguru go soft, but then I saw how you were with the little princess—” He lifted Himari above his head, grinning up at her while she spouted happy gibberish. “—and fell for you, head over heels. All I could think about was gathering you both up in my arms and takin’ you home.”

“You make us sound like stray animals.”

“I mean, you kind of are, right?” You jutted your elbow into his side, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Okay, okay, you’re runaways. I didn’t know you were so pedantic, (Y/n).”

 He slotted Himari against his hip, his attention momentarily falling away from her as he shot a quick, teasing smile in your direction. “I like you.” His voice was soft, dull – like he was saying something you didn’t already know. Like he was giving something away. “And I want you to stick around.”

“I’m sure Suguru would’ve said the same thing.”

“I’m not like Suguru.” He found your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. “I wouldn’t let you go so easily.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. Ahead of you, Tsumiki turned on her heel and waved excitedly. She’d picked a café (presumably with minimal input from Megumi); a picturesque little spot with a sun-speckled patio and overgrown garden boxes. Satoru’s hand tightened around yours, tugging you forward, and just this time, you didn’t bother trying to pull away.

~

The man on his knees in front of you was older – his hair receding and dotted with grey. A salaryman, you guessed, judging by his wrinkled suit, the ink stains on his sleeves. You couldn’t see his expression, not with his forehead pressed against the floor of Suguru’s sanctuary, but you could hear the pain in his voice as he pled for Suguru’s help, see the slight tremble in his shoulders. You didn’t have to assume the cause of his distress.

You couldn’t be sure when you started to see the spirits – or, the curses, you mean. It must’ve been around the end of the first trimester; your little glimpses at crooked monsters and mangled beasts solidifying into full, unrelenting exposure. Suguru suggested (after he’d finished celebrating what he would, later on, refer to as the best day of his life) that it might be a symptom of the pregnancy, that carrying a sorcerer’s child may’ve triggered some pocket of laden cursed energy buried inside of you, but you couldn’t help but think of it as some kind of cosmic punishment, even if you couldn’t begin to guess what you were being punished for.

It had to be a punishment, though. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be watching a small swarm of winged, imp-like creatures bite and scratch at the cowering salaryman, each swipe of their claws and nip of their pointed teeth enough to leave ragged, bloody stripes in his arms, his back. You felt bile rise into the back of your throat, but forced yourself not to shut your eyes, to keep your expression one of unbothered neutrality. Suguru would help him, just like he helped you.

As if by way of encouragement, you let your nails scrape over his scalp. After you started showing, the only job Suguru deemed you capable of was that of his new headrest. He took care of everything else – petitioning for maternity leave, moving you out of your flat and into the villa he shared with his girls, rewriting every little aspect of your life to better the role you’d inhabit for the next nine months: his pregnant wife. Currently, he was on his side, on leg bent at the knee and his head propped on your thighs, your fingers threaded through his hair. You’d cringed at the idea, at first, but Suguru insisted that it wouldn’t be an issue. The perks of leading your own cult, you guessed. No one could challenge his authority when he was the only authority they could possibly look to.

After a moment longer than you would’ve liked, Suguru cut off the salaryman’s incoherent rambling with a slight hum. Immediately, the salaryman fell silent, and Suguru let his head lull to the side, leaning into your palm. “Manami,” he started, addressing his assistant. She’d been called in shortly after the salaryman made his entrance. “How long has it been since our honored sponsor’s last donation?”

She glanced toward her tablet. “It’ll be five months this week.”

The salaryman scrambled to apologize. “I—I’m sorry, my store went out of business, and I—”

The corner of Suguru’s lips quirked downward. The entirety of the swarm descended onto the salaryman before you could so much as flinch away.

To say they tore him apart would be an understatement. One second, he was there, bowing in front of you, and the next, little more scraps of fabric and disembodied viscera decorated the floor of the sanctuary. Suguru snapped his fingers and, in an instant, the creatures vanished – leaving behind only gore and the thick stench of copper hanging in the stagnant air. Your hand stilled in Suguru’s hair. You might’ve passed out, if you’d been able to process what you’d just watched.

Suguru took notice of your distress quickly. That, or he just wanted to bask in his kill more privately. “If I could be alone with my wife for a moment, Manami.”

Her eyes flickered to you, lingering for a moment before she bowed her head. “Of course, Geto-sama. I’ll fetch someone to clean up this mess.”

Once she was gone, Suguru rolled onto his back, letting his eyes fall shut. “These fucking monkeys,” he sighed, with a shake of his head. “I swear, they’ll be the death of me. They can’t even seem to die without causing more trouble than they’re worth.”

“You can control them?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, dear.”

“The spirits.” And then again, with more urgency, “You can control them?”

His exasperation was swiftly replaced with self-satisfaction so potent, you could nearly taste it. “Would you expect anything less from me? Only a handful are strong enough to be helpful, but even pests can be put to good use.”

You felt like an idiot for asking. You felt like an idiot for having to ask, but you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “My spirit. The one I came to you for.” It felt like your tongue was coated in salt and ask. “Was he one of the stronger spirits?”

A beat lapsed in silence, then another.

Finally, Suguru let out a long, raspy exhale and brought a hand to your stomach. “I hope it’s a girl,” he muttered, almost absent-mindedly. “I hope she looks just like you.”

You took a single, stilted breath.

When you met your daughter a few months later, impossibly tiny and infinitely lovable and so agonizingly helpless, it would almost be a relief to see Suguru’s face staring back at you.

~

“She has your eyes.”

You heard his voice before you saw his face, but you would’ve known Suguru from aura alone. You froze in the doorway of the unlit nursery, searching for him in the darkness, but Suguru didn’t make himself hard to find.

“Not the color, but the shape.” He was standing next to the cradle, a soft smile painted across his lips and your daughter in his arms. She was sleeping, and you were thankful for it. You’d kept Himari away from him as much as you’d been able to in the weeks leading up to your escape, but even their minimal exposure had seemed crushing, at the time. Above all else, you never wanted your daughter to be able to recognize her father’s face. “Oh, but she must have my temperament. I’ve heard she rarely cries, even with nuisances like Satoru around.”

You’d left your phone in the living room. Satoru wasn’t home and he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning, but maybe, if you screamed, someone would hear you. Maybe, you’d be able to run while Suguru tore them apart, limb by limb.

In the end, it was all you could do to make yourself speak – your voice thin and prone to catching in your throat. “Get out of my apartment.”

“But this isn’t your apartment, is it?” With a quiet, hushing sound, he lowered Himari back into her cradle and turned to face you. “Honestly, if I’d known you were just going to run into another man’s arms, I would’ve been more careful with you. I wonder if you’ll feel more loyal to your husband with a chain around your neck.”

“You manipulated me. You made me have a ba—”

“I loved you.” He cut you off with all the delicacy of a rusty knife sawing through flesh. “I do love you, even if I’m starting to question how much of it you deserve.”

He stepped forward. You wanted to turn away from him, to run, but your body was uncooperative, too rigid to do anything more than shake as he came to stand in front of you. “Can you say it back to me? Just this once.” He brought a hand to your cheek. “I’ll forgive you for everything, if you do.”

You tried to. Not for him, but for your daughter – made expendable by her failure to keep you bound to Suguru. You tried to, but all that slipped past your parted lips was a wordless cry, torn and anguished and far from what he’d asked for.

“No?” He feigned disappointment, letting out an airy sigh. “I guess that’s to be expected.”

He took a deep breath, then rested his head against the dip of your shoulder. His hand fell to your stomach as he spoke into your skin.

“Maybe, after we have our second, you’ll change your mind.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #suguru x reader #satoru x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[dawn-t0-dusk]

#61: Drowning, Shattering

When you yell,           It leaves permanent damage in my ears,           With each scream, my hearing will deplete                      Now, I can’t hear you when you speak.           Water floods my ear canals,                      Your voice is distorted as if I were drowning                                 As if cotton were filling and blocking my ears.           I float in an icy lake,                      My ears struggling to make out your sounds

When you first hit me,           It fractured something in me.           Nothing tangible-                      But present nonetheless           Spiderweb cracks along my glass heart ‘They have been spreading’, i confess ‘I think that one day, i will shatter’           And still-           you ignore my worries and my protests.

I have forgotten how your voice sounded           And i no longer have the ability to hear           Somewhere in my memories, it is there

I have forgotten how your touch once felt           Now, my sense only know the fragile cracks           Only know the danger of every touch

It matter not if you whisper or caress now,           It's already too late.

#original poem #prose poetry #original poetry #prose #poetry #poets on tumblr #writers and readers #writers and poets #spilled prose #spilled emotions #spilled ink #poetic prose #abusive relationships #tw: abuse #emotional abuse #physical abuse #tw: implied violence #tw: disassociation

[screamingeagle]

@resistandbite​ continued from here.

--

B.J threw the empty bottle of ink against the wall. The thing didn't stand a chance. It shattered to pieces with a crash.

"How the fuck we supposed to win the war when these fuckers have got them technology we ain't even dreamed of?! And when our own fuckin' friends we thought we could trust turn out to be goddamn no-good kraut-sympathizers?!"

He slammed his fist on his desk. The cup holding his writing equipment fell over and the contents spread across the tabletop. Blazko shook his head. Any other man probably would have been crying. He wasn't. Didn't have tears left in him no more, not since Bessie.

"I won't let them bastards take you. And next time i see that son of a bitch who turned you in, I will make sure he dies."

      What met Blazkowicz was a constant stare of fear.

      The Staff-Sergeant flinched-- the ink flied, some nearly hit his face, he backed up a tad. Wide eyes kept starin’. Never once blinked. They were bloodshot.

      They only jus’ got him out. And he was in the worst fuckin’ state anyone could think of. Covered in lacerations n’ wounds of all kinds-- with his military coat barely hanging off his shoulders, his undershirt ripped to shreds, his legs barely able to keep himself up. Covered in blood and pus and... and Lord knows what else--  his hair was a fuckin’ mess, he was a fuckin’ mess. Didn’t accept touch from no one.

      Got real violent when anybody tried-- sure as hell nearly knocked a couple’a BJ’s teeth out when they first met again. Only recently was Max able to clean up, but that stare just never left... and he always seemed to look at things as if he wasn’t... fully there. Like he was seein’ things B.J couldn’t. Still refused to part with his coat. Seemed like it was his only comfort-- save for B.J’s presence.

      Max’s head turned, and he looked at him with such a hollow, empty gaze. A complete contrast to what he once had all the way back then in ‘46. It was ‘61 now. 15 whole years.

      “ Dead. ” He suddenly told his Captain, rather quickly, as if not speaking fast enough would leave him getting a fist to the jaw. “ ... dead-- he’s... he’s dead, Cap, I... I killed ‘im. My... my own hands. ”

#✯captured ~ ic✯ #✯ v: Now the World is Gone; I'm Just One. ✯ #resistandbite #ask to tag tw #unreality tw #disassociation tw #dissociating tw #torture tw #implied torture tw #death tw #war tw #nazi tw #fascism tw #//just in case considering it mentions max being. in a real bad state when they found him #unsanitary tw

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

How about someone who was recently turned into a Cybertronian and Team Prime tended to and comforted them? They have a lot of adjusting to do! 👀

TW: A bit of implied disassociation because, holy shit, suddenly you're a giant metal robot and that's kinda hard to wrap your newly non-organic brain around.

((Knock Out is here because there is not enough Autobot!Knock Out and I love him.))

Team Prime comforting Reader, who just got turned into a Cybertronian, would include...

Optimus reassures you from the first moment that you have a safe home with Team Prime, should you choose to stay with them. Of course, you do. He makes sure you have the time and space to adjust and be comfortable with your new body before jumping into anything. He's just there if you need him, which some days is more helpful than everyone's else's efforts to offer unsolicited advice right off the bat.

Bumblebee helps you adjust to having wheels by challenging you to races that double as training whenever possible. He is almost certainly going easy on you, but nobody ever tells you as much.

Bulkhead is the first to realize that maybe you just really need a damn hug right now, if only because he's not very good with words. He hugs you and reassured you that it will be okay, and you're amazed how warm and fuzzy you feel afterwards, even though you're fairly sure your new body doesn't actually feel such minute temperature changes.

Ratchet tries to be "comforting" by explaining how your new body works... in detail that goes way, WAY over your head. But eventually, you get him talking about Cybertron's history and culture, and realize that your two species aren't all that different after all, which helps more than an anatomy lesson ever could.

Smokescreen is quick to remind you that you don't have to go back to your boring human school/job/house/whatever. Depending on how much you liked/disliked your old life, this is either incredibly helpful or incredibly irritating. If you get upset with him though, he's quick to apologize, and it's hard not to be comforted by that well-meaning smile and a servo patting your shoulder.

Arcee might somehow be even more protective of you than she is of the humans - she knows what happens when bots overestimate how much they can handle, and she figures that's really easy to do when you go from being a tiny, fragile human to a giant robot. Sometimes it's hard to hear her remind you that you're still mortal, but she means well. "Okay Mom, I get it."

Wheeljack, like Bulkhead, isn't very good with words, but he's also not very good with affection. What he can do, however, is listen. He's there the first time you get frustrated with the rest of the Team - not because they truly did anything wrong, but because being cramped into a tiny base with people you've just met will irritate anyone - and he never breathes a word of what you vented to the others. The Wreckers had their spats too - he knows you'll all be cool at the end of the day.

Oh Primus help Ultra Magnus he doesn't have a comforting servo in his body, but at least he's honest about that. In fact, he's the best bot to go to when you're ready to have things less sugarcoated.

Knock Out doesn't understand what the fuss is about - why would anyone ever want to be a squishy, gross organic when they could be Cybertronian? Humans couldn't turn into cars, for one, and couldn't be polished. He gives you a fresh coat of paint and polish and tells you how much better you look now - it does help, in a way. Being able to pick out new paint makes you feel a little more like your new body is really your body.

But honestly? Your biggest comfort might just be Jack, Miko, and Raf, if only because they will remind you any time you so much as frown just how cool being a giant robot is. And then you remember, yeah, it is pretty cool, actually.

#EVERYONE is here! #platonic #x reader #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #maccadam #optimus #bumblebee #bulkhead #ratchet #smokescreen #arcee #wheeljack #ultra magnus #knock out #jack #miko #raf #cybertronian reader

[lieslab]

Cover me

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 7.3K

A/N: Major trigger warning because this was a request where SKZ finds out you were sexually assaulted. This is another one of the darkest drabbles I've made so far. Eight different scenarios and multiple trigger warnings are posted before the drabbles like usual.

If you've been through any of this, I am so sorry and it is most certainly not your fault. Please don't blame yourself for the actions of others. To the lovely person who requested this, I hope this can help, at least, a little piece of you <3

_ _ _

Chan:

TW: Sexual assault at work, workplace verbal harassment and assault, heavily implied rape, blood, depression, and self-hatred.

Despite the warning signs, despite how uncomfortable it made you, you didn’t realize it was ever going to go that far. The latest co-worker that your job had just hired. You didn’t think anything of it when you smiled the first time you met him. 

It started with you smiling at him and then him cracking jokes around you. It was all innocent until it wasn’t. One day his hands found your shoulders. You remember how warm they were as he dug his fingers into your flesh. You politely shrugged him off and went about your day. 

After that, it went further. Little things he did here and there that made you uncomfortable, but you refused to speak up because you didn’t want to be told you were being dramatic. You didn’t want to risk escalating the situation. 

He started hanging around your work area more. He waited for you by your car just so he could speak to you before you left. He was always standing too close for comfort. Even if you took another step back, he took another forward. 

Further and further you shrank into yourself. Every time you made yourself smaller, it was a victory in his eyes. Always in your space, hands on your shoulders, he ran his fingers through your hair. Even though you already explained you had a boyfriend, he didn’t respect that, he took it as a challenge. 

The casual comments about liking your accessories and outfits continued until they became verbal harassment. Your eyes went to the floor and shame filled your body when he talked about how well you filled out your jeans, how much he would please you, how much he’d make you happy. 

You changed your shifts to get away and you thought that was enough. It was for a few weeks. It was until he changed shifts too and suddenly you were in the break room defenseless and alone and when you turned around, there he was looking at you like a piece of meat. 

A piece of you died in that break room as you were cornered and taken advantage of. You couldn’t scream due to the shock. Your brain disassociated trying to save you from the heart-shattering reality of what was happening. 

When you came home that night bleeding, you couldn’t look your boyfriend in the eyes. You showered and slipped into your pajamas and pretended like it never happened. You slept all night, you slept for half the day until you awoke and remembered what happened all over again. 

Three days later, you locked yourself in the bathroom and called into work sick once more. You explained that you were down with the flu and it was bad. You rarely missed work unless you were sick, your boss understood and wished you well. 

When you came out of the bathroom, Chan stood with his arms crossed. You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat. It was his day off and he had been sleeping, but he must have woken up when you got out of bed to call into work. 

“Baby, what’s going on? You’re not sick with the flu, but you’ve been down for the past few days.” He walked towards you and gently cupped your cheeks in his hands. 

He had always been like this with you. So gentle and so soft. He never dug into your delicate skin and left bruises. He didn’t take advantage of you when you were alone. He didn’t jerk your body in uncomfortable positions. He didn’t degrade you to the point of tears. Most importantly, he didn’t make you hate yourself. 

You didn’t hate yourself until now. All that time you spent bettering yourself and working on your self-confidence was shattered. It had only been three days, but you couldn’t even imagine how it could get better from here. Your eyes stung and you blinked rapidly trying to hold back the tears. 

“Did something happen at work?” 

That was enough to make your knees collapse. Your throat closed up as Chan rushed to catch you. He managed to catch you by your waist and pulled you towards him. Your arms wrapped around him tightly. You promised yourself you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it, but it was killing you. 

This thing, this secret, it was rotting you from the inside out. You didn’t want everyone to know. You didn’t want their pity and their doleful looks. You didn’t want to deal with the fall out of it all. You’d have to explain over and over and over, but you had to get it out. 

So you blubbered through your tears and sniffled through a snotty nose. Chan’s face fell, but he listened to everything you had to say. His arms tightened around you to pull you closer to him. You clutched onto him like he was the only thing that could keep you afloat through all of this. 

“I-I don’t want to go back,” you admitted through tears. “I can’t deal with him again. What if it happens again?” 

“It’s not going to happen again because I won’t let it. You don’t have to go back there.” He wiped away your tears. “Let’s take this one step at a time, alright?” 

You nodded and choked back another sob. 

“Let’s get some food in your system and we’ll go from there. You don’t have to think about the future right now. Just focus on me. Let me take care of you.” 

You let your head fall into his chest. He placed his chin onto your head. A quiet “thank you” fell from your lips. A sigh left your body and you began to relax. 

“Just rest now, I’ve got you.”

_ _ _

Lee Know:

TW: Sexual assault by a parent and self-hatred.

“Do you really love me?” 

Minho’s question caught you off guard. You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion and turned to look at him. “Is that a joke question? Of course, I love you. Why wouldn’t I? I am dating you, aren’t I?” 

“You won’t meet my parents.” He glanced up from his chair at the bar counter. “Why else won’t you meet them? I’ve asked you like three times if you’ll come with me to meet them and you keep turning down my offer. What am I supposed to think?” 

You tightened your grip on the wooden spoon in your hand. You knew this was coming, but you weren’t expecting it to be today. Your fingers went pale and your heart beat began to pick up. 

You heard it hammering in your ears. The soft pitter-patter had turned into a Friday night football drumline; booming and pounding so loud that it blocked out everything else. You kept your eyes down at the pitcher of lemonade you were making. 

“If you don’t want to be with me anymore, you can tell me. It’ll hurt, but being with me when you don’t want to is only going to hurt each of us more. I can g-” 

“It’s not that,” you finally found your voice. “It’s not that at all. It’s a complicated situation and it’s a lot.” 

“Why don’t you explain it to me then? I’m sure I’ll understand.” Minho set his elbow down on the table and placed his chin in his palm. His boba eyes studied your face. 

You poured another cup of sugar into the pitcher. You kept this buried deep inside of you and rarely told anyone. It was too embarrassing, too shameful, too humiliating. It made you feel sick and unloveable. Thinking about it now caused your stomach to tangle into knots.

“I’m sure your parents are lovely people. You talk about how much you love them. You talk about how much, specifically your mom, takes care of your cats when you’re away. Your parents sound amazing. I’m sure you had incidents with them occasionally, but for the most part, you have a good relationship with them.”  

“And?” 

“My parents were nothing like yours. You talk about how much you appreciate your parents. How loving they treat your cats. How happy they are to support you in your career and all your dreams. Your parents are what parents should be.” 

“I had a parent,” you sucked in a deep breath, “that did things to me that I can never forget. Your parents would never dare do anything like that to me. I know they wouldn’t because I trust you and you trust them. However, I can’t help, but worry that it’ll happen.” 

He pushed himself up and walked towards you. His hand found yours and he gently squeezed it. “My parents aren’t going to yell at you if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“That’s no-” 

“They wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone you.” His other hand cupped the side of your face. Your cheeks went red and he brushed a light thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

You shrugged. Part of you wanted to, but another part wanted it to remain hidden. It was an internal battle that battered back and forth. He gave you a reassuring smile and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Minho?” You finally got out. 

“Hmm?” 

“One of my p-parents,” your voice wobbled, “they sexually assaulted me when I was a child. I didn’t know until I was older, but I…” You trailed off. 

He tugged you into his arms. A hand found your back and he began to rub your back. “I had no idea, so I’m sorry.” 

“No,” you shook your head, “I should be the one apologizing. Your parents want to meet me and I-” 

“Shh.” 

You shut your eyes and went quiet. 

“Don’t apologize. I’ll tell them you’re working through some personal stuff and they’ll understand. You don’t have to meet them until you're ready. You can take all the time you need, alright? Don’t worry about meeting them right now.” 

“Thank you.” 

He bent down and kissed the top of your head. His other hand continued rubbing your back. You kept listening to the thrum of his heartbeat. It was the only thing that kept you from breaking down completely.

_ _ _

Changbin:

TW: Mentions of sexual assault by a female friend, underage drinking, blacking out, and paranoia around women.

“I can’t believe you bought so many clothes,” you teased and jabbed a light elbow into Changbin’s side. 

“They’re not just clothes! They’re athletic wear and they’re all my size. Imagine how good those compression shirts are going to make me look when I lift in them. They’re going to make me look hot.” 

“You already look hot.” 

“They’ll show off my muscles and I’ll look even hotter.” 

The two of you were side-by-side in a mall heading towards the exit. Changbin wanted to do some shopping and you offered to tag along. The two of you went from store to store until Changbin finally found the shirts he wanted. 

“We probably could have started in the sporting store to begin with.” 

“Yeah, but what fun is that? We wouldn’t have been able to look at everything.” He reached down and locked a hand around yours. “It was nice to look around and get some steps in.” 

The two of you continued talking until you were near the exit. A large group of teenage girls were streaming inside laughing with each other. One of them was widely gesturing and screwing around. 

You stopped in your tracks which caused Changbin to pause too. He glanced back over his shoulder at you. “Are you okay?” A frown sat on his face. 

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah, I just-”  You dropped his hand and walked behind him, so you were on the other side. He shifted his bags into the other hand. Your hand went back into his. “That’s better.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You’re scared of a bunch of teenage girls? That seems a little silly.”  

You shrugged not wanting to talk about it. They walked past the two of you not even batting an eye. He tugged you outside and continued to talk about his most recent purchases. 

When you two got to his car, you opened up the passenger door and climbed inside. You buckled and stayed quiet. Your gaze went out the window and it stayed there while the two of you headed home. The ride was silent and uncomfortable after a while. 

Changbin shifted in his seat and sighed. “Are you mad at me because I teased you in the mall? I was just screwing around. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

“It’s whatever,” you mumbled.  

“Can you, at least, tell me why you have a thing against women? Whenever we’re somewhere and you see a few, you kinda freak out. Do you hate them or something?” 

Your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs. You shut your eyes before you sucked in a deep breath and spoke. “I guess I’m a victim of the past. I know I should get over it because it’s been a while, but it still haunts me.” 

Changbin frowned and kept his eyes on the road. “What do you mean? Did something happen?” 

“I don’t want to ruin the mood. It’s not a big deal.” You pushed your forehead up against the cool glass of the passenger window. “It’s just one of the reasons why I am the way I am,” you shrugged. 

“Okay, now you have to tell me.” 

You remained quiet for a while before you pulled back. Your head rested against the back of the leather seat. Your eyes shut for a few moments until you spoke. 

“Back when I was in high school, I was friends with a girl. The two of us were close and we had a good friendship. I mean, at least, I thought we did until we went to a party together and I got drunk.” 

Changbin stayed silent listening to the story. 

“It was high school and stupid. We were underage and had alcohol as minors. It was the first time I drank and I trusted her because I was with her. She was barely drinking, but I was drinking a lot. I ended up getting so drunk, I blacked out.” 

“Oh?” 

“When I woke up, I woke up to her sexually assaulting me.” 

“Oh,” Changbin’s face fell. 

“I know I shouldn’t think every woman I come across is going to hurt me, but it haunts me. It’s stupid, I know, but I-” 

“It’s not stupid. Someone you trusted took advantage of you. If guys assault people and women become scared of them, the opposite can happen too. Just because it was a woman, it doesn’t mean you can’t be nervous around them.” 

You slowly nodded and reopened your eyes. Your hands folded over each other on your lap. You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced back outside. The scenery was a great distraction for your sudden confession. 

“I’m sorry I teased you in the mall. I just thought you were afraid of teenagers. I didn’t know you had a valid reason for it. It won’t happen again.” 

“It’s alright, I should learn to get over it anyway.” 

“What you went through was rough. That’s not something you can just forget about.” He leaned an opened hand towards you. You let your hand fall into his and wrapped your fingers around his. “Healing can be a challenging thing.” 

“Thank you for not making fun of me after speaking about it.” 

“Now why would I do that? Has that happened before?” His eyebrows pinched together. “What a bunch of assholes. We’re going to get ice cream and it’s my treat. No meanies allowed.”

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

TW: Sexual assault by a teacher, sexual grooming, self-hatred, and paranoia around teachers/academic professors.

Hyunjin leaned over the back of the couch staring at you. His head rested on his folded arms. You rambled about the job you hated once again. Once you graduated high school, you opted not to go to college. So far, you hadn't found anything you liked. 

Customer service made you want to gouge out your eyes. If one more person was snarky to you, you were considering punching them or quitting. Maybe even both at this point. You were fed up with being disrespected. 

Hyunjin listened quietly to your ramble until you finished with a sigh. He perked his head up and stared at you. “You do know what I’m going to tell you, right?” 

“Don’t say it,” you mumbled. 

“Why don’t you go to college? You have so many interests and you’d be good at any of them. You could take out loans, yeah, but you could also apply for scholarships.” He flopped himself over the back of the couch. “You’re intelligent and talented, you could make it.” 

You groaned and put your head in your hands. “I’ve already told you I don’t want to do that,” you grumbled. 

“You’re right, but you’ve never explained why exactly. Seriously, why don’t you want to go? You were good in school and you always like to be challenged. Are you worried you won’t be good at it? I know you’re competitive, but you don’t have to be the best in the class.” 

“Because I just don’t!” You snapped, feeling defensive and annoyed. “Stop trying to peer pressure me into doing something I don’t want to do!” 

“But why don’t you? You could have a career in a field you love and I-” 

“Because I don’t want to be groomed by a teacher again!” You spat. His eyes widened and you instantly slammed a hand over your mouth. The two of you stared at each other before you pulled your hand away. “Pretend I didn’t say that.” 

He shoved himself up. “You can’t just say that and not explain. What happened when you were younger? Were you really groomed?” 

“It was a long time ago,” you weakly got out. “It was high school and I was so naive. He was older and attractive and I liked that attention. I really thought he cared about me.” 

“How long did this go on for?” 

“About a year and a half until a student snitched because they caught us being intimate in the classroom.” Shame filled you and you dropped your head. “It was humiliating to live through that. The news spread like wildfire and everyone found out. The teachers, the students, the parents, and even surrounding schools.” 

Hyunjin frowned. 

“I don’t want to go through it again,” you managed to get out. “It was shameful and humiliating. It was the worst time period of my life. My parents forced me to testify against him in court and-” Tears filled your eyes. “I used to think I really loved him until I got older and realized what was happening.” 

 “And now you’re worried it’ll happen again if you go to college?” 

You weakly nodded your head and sniffled. Using the back of your hand, you wiped snot from your nose. Hyunjin got up and walked over to you. Ignoring your waterworks and snot, he wrapped his arms around you. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“I want to go to college, but the idea makes me nervous. I know I’d be good at it. I know I could make it work out. I just don’t want to be groomed again.” 

“Have you ever considered online college? You’d have professors, but it’d be online. You wouldn’t have to deal with seeing them in person.” 

“I guess I haven’t really thought about that option.” 

“If you want to look into it more, I’ll help you. Try not to peer pressure yourself too much.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on your forehead. “Take all the time you need. I’ll always be here if you need to talk more.” 

_ _ _

Han:

TW: Child-on-child sexual assault by a female cousin, child pornography, grief, and resentment.

“And I tried to tell him that he looked like an idiot, but I-” Han leaned forward and waved his hand in front of your face. “Hey, are you listening to me?” 

You pulled your eyes from the two younger kids across the way. The two of them were playing in the interior playground built into the fast food place. You forced your eyes to go back to Han. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 

“I was trying to say that Changbin was lo-” 

You zoned out again. Your eyes went back over to the two kids. They looked happy chasing each other around the colorful tubes. One scrambled and dived into the inside of the tube. The other rushed after them. Their giggles were loud and reached your table. 

Realizing you weren’t paying attention again, Han glanced over his shoulder to see what you were looking at. Their parents were talking and sitting down at a table nearby, so they could keep an eye on them. 

“Do you know them?” Han asked. His eyes went to your face again. 

You shook your head and forced your eyes back to the table. You picked up a french fry and put it into your mouth. The fries, you previously had been enjoying, now made your stomach churn. You forced yourself to swallow it and took a sip of your drink. 

Han glanced back over his shoulder before he looked at you with a frown. “What was that about? Are you sure you don’t know them? You look almost sad.” 

“I just miss childhood, I guess.” 

Your reasoning was pathetic and Han wasn’t sure he believed you. He closed the lid on his burger box. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

You nodded and stood up. Your food was only half eaten, but the idea of consuming anymore of it made you nauseous. The two of you cleaned up your stuff and placed it back into the bag it came in. Han rolled it down and carried it. He let you lead the way out of the building. 

The salty fries and grease from hamburgers was replaced with fresh air. You sucked in a mouthful and closed your eyes. The sun was setting and Han slipped his hand in yours. He tugged you across the parking lot and back towards your apartment. 

The two of you were quiet on the sidewalk until Han spoke up again. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever that was? It looked like it really upset you. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” 

“I know.” 

He stayed quiet and continued walking with you. His hand sent a reassuring squeeze to yours. You stayed quiet for a while until you broke the silence. “Do you ever feel guilty for things that happened during childhood?” 

“Like for things I did when I was a kid? Sure. I had an older brother, so I did a fair amount of stealing and pissing off my parents.” He shrugged and chuckled. “That’s just how some kids are, I suppose.” 

“Not like that.” 

“What do you mean?” 

You glanced around making sure the two of you were alone. Once the coast was clear, you spoke again. “I lied when I told you I never had a cousin.” 

“You…you lied about your cousin?” 

“It’s a sensitive topic. She’s a few years older than me and she meant everything to me when I was a kid. She was like the older sister that I never had. She was everything I wanted to be.” 

Han listened in silence. 

“There was a day when everything went wrong. She was babysitting me like she did before. My parents paid her to babysit me and she wanted to play a game that involved us taking our clothes off.” 

He frowned, “oh no.” 

“If you have an idea of where you think this is going, you’re correct. Things escalated to touching and then she took photos. We were both minors at the time, but…” You trailed off. “I’ve been to a therapist before. She says that qualifies as sexual assault, but my cousin was just a kid too.” 

“Did this go on for a while?” 

“Months until her parents found the photos she took of me on her phone. I don’t really know what happened after that. She stopped coming over and her parents moved away. We’re still related, but neither one of us has ever reached out to each other.” 

“That sounds awful. I’m sorry that happened to you.” He squeezed your hand once more. “So when you were looking at those kids…” 

“They reminded me of my cousin and I before things went wrong. We were happy and we also played our fair share of tag. Sorry for ruining our dinner together. I wasn’t trying to destroy the mood.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

“Han?” Your voice wavered a little. 

“Hmm?” 

“Is it wrong to still be angry?” Your words came out in a whisper. “Is it wrong to hate her even though we were both kids? Is it wrong to be upset years later?” 

“It’ll never be wrong.” He paused, let go of your hand, and turned to face you. “You went through something really difficult with someone you trusted. It seems like there’s a lot of hurt still trapped inside and it’s a tender subject.” 

“I think she was a victim too.” Tears filled your eyes. “I think she learned it from somewhere. I think someone was doing it to her. I should have spoken up and helped her sooner.” 

“But you were just a kid too. You didn’t know. Even if that did happen and you think that now, you don’t know for sure. That doesn’t take away from what happened to you. You still went through something life-changing and heart breaking. You deserve to be able to grieve too.” 

In the middle of the sidewalk, grief washed over you. In the middle of sweetened cherry blossom trees and the whiff of burger grease. Grief punched you in the gut and squeezed your heart. 

The guilt for not speaking up. The anger for being hurt to begin with. The sadness for the innocence loss. The betrayal of being hurt by someone, a family member, you looked up to. 

Han leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you. He squeezed the bag of food tighter in his hand. “I’m so sorry.” He stayed there for quite a while just holding you and letting you sit with all your emotions. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled with watery eyes as you pulled away. 

He slipped his hand back into yours. “Let’s go home and find something to do. While we’re heading there, let me tell you about this ugly jacket that Changbin bought the other day.” 

Felix:

TW: Sexual assault by a stranger, social anxiety, and paranoia.

Social anxiety was hard. Outside in public, people were minding their own business. In reality, everyone was too caught up in their own worlds to focus on you. However, your brain was sure everyone was against you. Whenever someone glanced your way, you were convinced they were judging you and planning your demise. Every laugh that people shared, they were laughing at you. 

It was a difficult thing to live with, but ever since you got to know Felix, you were prepared to try and battle it. He lived his life courageously. He wasn’t afraid to venture out into the world and ask questions. He didn’t have a fear like you did. 

So when you decided to get groceries alone on a Saturday morning and reject his help, he was shocked, but he believed in you. He woke up early and was sure to text you a motivational message. He stayed glued to his phone just in case you needed him. 

You were nervous walking into the store. Every little thing had you on edge, but you were determined to do this. Exposure therapy was apparently a helpful way to help with anxiety. The more you did it, the more comfortable and relaxed you’d become with it. 

You paid close attention to your list and made sure to double, even triple, check the list to make sure you had the right items. You marked everything off and made your ways through the aisles. It was still pretty early and the store was a lot less crowded than usual. 

You were just starting to relax after passing a few customers. You held your breath each time worried that they’d say something demeaning or rude, but they never did. You were finally starting to make real progress until you felt someone’s eyes on your back. 

The hair on the back of your neck pricked up. You rounded the next aisle, glanced over your shoulder, and discovered a man standing a few feet back. His eyes were directly on yours. You ignored him and ventured on trying not to worry. 

The further you moved, the closer he got. Closer and closer and closer. You shifted yourself. You pulled out your phone and hoped he’d go away. You lingered in the pasta section hoping he’d lose interest, but he stayed there observing. 

You were almost finished when you felt something touch your back. You stiffened with your hands curling around the cart handle until your fingers went white. The unwanted hand drifted down your lower back and continued straight down. 

You didn’t know what to say. Your brain short-circuited and you panicked. The man laughed and you felt his breath on your neck. You suddenly took off as fear shot through you. You left the cart, clutched your list, and ran as fast as you could to the restrooms. 

Too afraid he’d follow you, you slipped into the disabled restroom and pulled out your phone. Tears filled your eyes and, after making sure the door was locked, you backed up. You found Felix’s number and pressed the call button. 

Felix picked up on the third ring. Before he could get out a proper greeting, he was met with the sound of your sob. You begged him to come quickly because you were scared. He tried to calm you down as best as he could. 

He didn’t understand what was fully happening. You couldn’t explain much through your cries. You felt disgusting knowing that you had just been groped by a stranger. All you wanted to do was get your groceries and go home. 

It took a total of fifteen minutes before Felix finally announced he was outside the bathroom. You pulled the door open and he stared at you with a concerned face. You launched yourself at him and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“What happened?” He questioned as he put his phone away. 

“S-Some guy, h-he just-” You hiccuped. Your throat constricted and you struggled to explain. 

Instantly, he was pissed after your blubbering explanation. He stayed directly by your side as he helped you report the man to the manager. Once another employee located the man, the police were called. The cameras matched what you reported. 

Felix refused to leave your side and didn’t let go of your hand once. He was sure to reassure you that it wasn’t your fault and you did the right thing by reporting it. It made you feel awful, but you were glad he was arrested for his actions. 

“And if you need me,” Felix continued once more, “call me.” 

“But what if you’re on tour in another country?” 

“I’m Australian. Do you really think an ocean will stop me? I’ve practically been training since birth. Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, “I’ll swim across it.” 

Despite your messy state, you chuckled and sniffled. You wiped the remaining tears off your cheeks. “I don’t think you understand how big oceans are.” 

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll do anything for you.” 

_ _ _

Seungmin:

TW: Sexual assault by a religious leader, religious trauma, anger, guilt, and grief.

“How hot do you think hell is?” Seungmin asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Do you think people attempt to steal the gold from the roads in heaven?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Do you think heaven and hell actually exist?” 

You puckered your lips and forced yourself to keep your composure. “I don’t know. Why does it matter anyway? Whatever happens will happen. I don’t really want to consider burning for all eternity.” 

“Would you rather be reincarnated? I think that’d be fun. I want to come back as Changbin.” 

You hummed without really responding and went back to drinking your mug of coffee. You sipped the bitter drink debating if you should add more sugar or not. You licked your lips and decided to add another spoonful into the warm mug. 

“Didn’t you grow up religious?” Seungmin continued. “You grew up religious and you have no opinion on heaven or hell? What’s up with that?” 

“Do we have to keep talking about this? I’d rather not.” Your grip tightened around your mug. Religion was a sore subject when it came to you. “Why don’t we talk about something else more important?” 

Seungmin narrowed his eyes and scanned you up and down. “Something happened with you and religion, didn’t it? You’re bitter and angry about it now.” 

You slammed the mug down onto the counter. Steaming coffee sloshed over the side and drizzled onto your hand. “Of course, I’m fucking angry about it. You’d be pissed off too if your youth pastor sexually assaulted you and when people fucking found out out about it, they claimed he’d never do that because he’s a man of god.” 

“And then,” you continued angrily, “some people do believe you and you’re told to forgive him because that’s what God would want. Do you know how fucked up that is? Well, you should just pray and spend some time with God,” you mocked in a high pitched voice. 

“I was a teenager! My youth pastor was holding one-on-one sessions with me after church and you know what he told my mom? He told her that we were studying the bible. All he was doing was studying my goddamn body supposedly in the name of God!” 

Seungmin stared at you in shock. He knew religion was a tender subject, but he never knew why. You mentioned in passing that you were once religious. He was just asking genuine questions. Sure they were stupid, but he meant them light-heartedly. He thought it’d lead to a deeper conversation, not this. 

“I-” 

“Shut up!” You snapped. “I don’t want your pity, just fucking save it.” You stood up, stormed out of the kitchen, and walked into the bedroom. Leaving Seungmin bewildered, you slammed the door shut and threw yourself in the bed. 

You wasted no time curling the blanket over your head and cocooning beneath it. Tears flooded your eyes and you sniffled. You slung an arm across your face to wipe the salted tears away. 

Whispers of people from the past taunted you. Forgive and forget. All part of God’s big plan. That never happened. The thoughts circled, swarmed, and stung you like bees. 

As you grew up, you felt guilty about the whole thing. You were always forced to feel bad about it when it came to light. You ruined a godly man. You destroyed his reputation and when he ended up in jail, it was your fault too. 

The past constricted around your heart and squeezed. You struggled to breathe. The scabbed wound was ripped off once again and you were bleeding everywhere. Too in your head, you didn’t hear the door creak open. 

Seungmin crept inside, shut the door behind him, and whispered your name. A sob escaped your lips. He walked over, pulled the blanket off your head, and slipped into the bed beside you. His arms wrapped around your body and he tugged you close. 

You buried your head in his chest while you cried. He gently let his fingers trace invisible shapes on your back until you calmed down. It took a while and when you stopped, he began to speak. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anything like that happened to you. I won’t bring anything like that up again. You didn’t deserve to have that happen to you.” 

“Do you think,” you sucked in a shaky breath, “it was really part of God’s plan? Do you think…” Your voice wobbled and you trailed off. 

“No. I don’t know what I believe, but I don’t think some higher power would want you to go through that. I don’t think it was a blessing in disguise to find some bigger meaning in life. I think it was a horrible and terrible thing that happened to you.” 

“You don’t have to believe in anything you don’t want to. Whatever religion or spiritual thing you want to believe in, you’re allowed to. I think sometimes people are assholes and everyone is responsible for their own actions at the end of the day. People love to blame the devil or God or whoever to avoid taking accountability. It’s an easy way to try and sneak out of the consequences.” 

You stayed quiet listening to him. His hand began to rub up and down on your back. His other hand played with the ends of your hair. “I think you’re a victim and I can’t even imagine how much you’ve gone through and dealt with. You’re incredibly strong an-” 

“I’m not strong,” you whimpered. “I’m pathetic and worthless. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without still feeling sick.” 

Seungmin clutched you tighter. “You’re not pathetic and worthless. You’re beautiful and I hate that you view yourself like that. Did that dickhead get put in prison?”

You managed to nod. 

“Well, thank fuck. If I was a God, I’d strike him down with a bolt of lightning. See how he likes that and then when he’s in pain, I’d tell him it was part of God’s plan when his dick was shriveling and burnt and falling off.” 

You couldn’t stop your snort. 

“You think I’m kidding? He better watch his back. He has no idea what I’m capable of.” 

“You’re not a God,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, yeah? Where’s your proof, huh? I’ve got devoted followers that happily worship me. They sing me praises and offer me offerings. I could be a God and I could start a cult. I’d be an amazing cult leader.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’s your first order of business then?” You shifted and wiped away a few tears. 

“Pft, that’s easy. I’d make everyone start barking at Han.” 

“Why would yo-” 

“I just think it’d be funny to see him look confused and terrified as thousands of people randomly started to bark at him.” 

“You’re a menace,” you mumbled. 

“And Han’s worst nightmare. This is my revenge for the time he chucked a wallet at my head. He better think twice before crossing me again.” 

_ _ _

I.N:

TW: Sexual assault by a police officer, abuse of power, paranoia around cops, unresolved trauma, and grief.

“Oh, shit.” Jeongin mumbled as he shifted his foot and eased on the break. He hadn’t seen the cop nearby and he was going over the speed limit. 

Catching a glimpse of the cop car behind you in the side mirror, you gulped. You adjusted your eyes and placed them on the car in front of the two of you. Your fingers fiddled with each other and your anxiety began to pick up. 

Jeongin turned on his turn signal and the cop followed which only made your anxiety increase. You sucked in a shaky breath and dug your nails into your thighs. Jeongin glanced over at you and frowned. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded your head and stayed silent. He continued driving down the road. After a few more roads, the cop turned down a side street and you sucked in a deep breath. Your eyes shut and you tried to relax despite the quickened thudding of your heart. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeongin asked. “You seem really worked up. Have you ever had an incident with a cop before?” 

“Once,” you muttered and turned your attention out the window. 

“Ah, speeding ticket? That seems to be the most common thing.” 

“Something like that.” 

He paused for a moment taking in your words. “Was it not a speeding ticket?” 

“They actually thought I was a suspect they were looking for. I matched the basic description, so I was pulled over and forced to get out of my car. I was handcuffed and everything, but then…” You trailed off not finishing your sentence. “Never mind,” you shook your head. “It was a few years ago and doesn’t really matter.” 

“You can’t leave me hanging like that. What happened next? Did they actually arrest you until they figured out they fucked up or something?” 

“They had me cuffed and with an officer for a while until they called for backup. They searched my car and had my identification card. They were trying to figure out the actual suspect’s name.” 

“I bet that was awful to go through.” 

“Mmhm.” You blinked rapidly trying to not let your tears fall. If they fell, you’d have to explain everything and you didn’t want to. 

Jeongin was Jeongin. When he realized you were super quiet, he glanced over to check on you and caught you wiping away tears. “What happened?” He frowned. “Were you actually taken to jail?” 

“I don’t thi-” 

“Please, I want to know.” 

You sucked in a shaky breath. You had never told anyone what really happened. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t think you’ll believe me,” you got out weakly. “They were a cop and I’m just a regular citizen.” 

“Did they do something to you?” 

“The cop that was gripping me and making sure I wasn’t going anywhere, they groped me. I tried to get away, but they kept yelling at me and the other cops were searching my car and-” More tears spilled down your cheeks. “Sorry for crying.” 

“It’s alright, you’re allowed to cry.” He continued to drive, but kept glancing over at you. “What happened after that?” 

“They let me go with a weak apology after they realized they misidentified me. They uncuffed me and let me go home. That was the end of it.” 

“But the cop that assaulted you, h-” 

“Nobody saw it happen. If I would have spoken up about it, it would have made things worse. I was terrified that I’d end up going to jail and I just wanted to go home. I wanted to be left alone. Ever since then, I’ve hated cops.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. I could have spoken up, but what do you do when someone is in a position of power over you? When they have friends and they’re protected and surrounded by people,” you shrugged and let out a weak laugh. “I should just get over it. It’s not like anything is going to change. Life goes on and they keep their job.” 

“But they assaul-” 

“The world doesn’t work like that,” you shook your head. “There were no cameras in the area. The other officers weren’t paying attention. There were no witnesses, it was just them and me.” 

“I’m sorry,” he got out again. The thought of you being so vulnerable and terrified made his heart hurt. He blinked back his own tears. “That never should have happened to you.” 

“It’s whatever. It happened and it’s over.” You attempted to downplay the situation, but he could see right through you. 

“You’re allowed to grieve and be hurt. You’re allowed to be upset and angry. You can be sad too if you want to.” 

“I know.” More tears brimmed your eyes. “It’s not fair that I have to deal with all the effects and they go on with their life like nothing happened. It’s why I believe in karma. I have to believe that someday they’ll get what’s coming to them. If I don’t believe in that, it’ll destroy me.” 

After a few more moments of silence, Jeongin spoke up again. “Do you maybe want to go to an arcade and get your mind off it? I’ll pay for your stuff. We can play whack-a-mole and pretend we’re beating the shit out of the officer. I think it’d be a great way to relieve some stress.” 

“Can we get food while we’re there?” 

“Well, duh.” 

You laughed and wiped away some of your tears. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go beat up some moles.”

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