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#physical abuse
bonefall · 2 days
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I genuinely have no clue how someone can think "getting hit on the ear doesn't hurt"
Getting hit ANYWHERE on the head fucking hurts. I've got plenty of experience with it (various sources) for me personally, top of the head hurts worst (I have a gnarly scar there from a dog bite, very sensitive), but ear is pretty high on the list. Bonus Points for how the sensation made my tinnitus act up
The head is like a thin layer of watermelon rhine wrapped around the most precious organ in your body, and to discourage you from bashing it open, it was wrapped in meat that screams when it gets too close to a dangerous object.
I'm also having a hard time understanding how a person can come to that conclusion. It's... it's right there. You can touch and pull and smack your own ear. You will feel it hurt more than most other parts of your body.
I can only conclude that the anon has never had their ear physically abused, and quite frankly, I hope they never do. I hope they know their lack of personal experience is enviable.
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a-sip-of-milo · 5 months
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Things people label as abuse when it's done to a partner that parents somehow get away with
Hitting/spanking. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but fair discipline when it's a child.
No privacy (no privacy = going through their phone, tracking their location, attending therapy appointments, etc.). Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but good parenting when it's a teenager.
Emotional neglect. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but "not the parents' fault" when it's a child.
Overworking them. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but earning their keep when it's a child.
Doing things to purposely make them cry. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but hilarious when it's a kid.
Breaking their stuff/deleting video game progress. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but fair discipline when it's a child.
Forcing affection when they don't want to. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but teaching them good manners when it's a child.
Locking them in a room that they can't escape. Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but "they've got to learn one way or another" if it's a child.
Expecting them to suppress their emotions. Abusive/toxic if it's a partner but teaching them to be mature if it's a child.
Getting angry when they ask a question/challenge your logic/need clarification. Abusive/toxic if it's a partner but teaching them to not talk back if it's a child.
Not letting them eat anything unless it's what you put in front of them (that includes not letting them get anything for themselves). Abusive/toxic when it's a partner but teaching them to be grateful if it's a child.
If you've ever labeled any of these things as abuse when an adult opens up about their experiences but will defend parents who do the same thing, you need to reevaluate yourself.
DNI: Narcissistic/Borderline/Anti-social/Histrionic abuse believers.
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brok3nvinyl · 1 year
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Why wasn’t I happy
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klausysworld · 3 months
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Cg klaus x little babyspace reader where she is like 1 and pretty non verbal and Klaus is Busy so he get a babysitter bc his siblings are busy too but she get abused by the sitter and is now scared of something she loved like her crib and after that elijah babysit her and when he wants to put her in her crib she start crying and sobbing out something like "n-n-n-no-no 'Ib" and holds for her dear life on him. After he put her in klaus bed and Klaus was back again he told him about it.
How would he and his siblings react to it 💖
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(Abuse mention, please don’t read if you may find this triggering and know you are not alone)
Too Perfect To Be Sorry
Y/n had never been able to keep her she regression a secret. She couldn’t help when she slipped into it and she never knew how young she could get. More often than not she was unable to do anything for herself, sometimes barely able to sit up or lift her bed so there was no chance of pretending it didn’t happen. If she felt safe, she’d slip. If she was scared, she’d slip. If she was upset, she’d slip. Almost every emotion was a trigger.
Thankfully for her, the Mikaelsons had been around for centuries and had first hand discovered most things, age regression being something they already knew of and had been apart of within a relationship.
Klaus in particular took interest in the dynamic. He enjoyed having full control over someone, and their willingness for it was what made it so much better. Knowing that someone felt so safe in his hold that they would let him care for them completely. It was a level of trust that he hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.
The hybrid had been with multiple littles over time, but often found that he moved around too much to actually keep them happy so began to pull away and succumb to your standard one-night stands instead.
However when he got to New Orleans, the place he had always loved most, he found that he wanted to stay again. Additionally, his siblings were all with him and he was in a joint rulership with Marcel, his son-like figure and favourite of hundreds and thousands of vampires he’d turned.
So when he came across a girl who was very clearly slipping into her little mindset, he was keen to sweep her away from any eyes and take her somewhere safe. Well…his home so somewhat safe depending on the day.
Y/n was barely conscious for the encounter and came out of her little space hours later.
She woke up from her nap to find that she was curled up on a man’s chest, in a bed she did not know, in clothes that weren’t hers but with a Disney film on that she definitely did know.
She looked around slowly, frightened as she carefully peeled herself off of the man. His eyes were closed and chest moving with ear deep breath so she knew he was asleep. She crawled to the edge of the bed and dropped down only to land on a pile of pillows making her smile and pull herself up onto her feet which were covered by the footsie pyjamas she was in. She could feel the confusion creep through her as she felt the babygrow, it was soft like a teddy and covered every inch of her body except her hands and face.
A gentle stirr sounded from Klaus making her startle and scurry toward the door, her steps making near to no sound against the soft carpet. Despite her lack of noise, as soon as she opened the door, arms were lifting her up. Without hesitation Y/n let out an ear piercing scream and her legs began to swing, her hands shoving at his forearms desperately.
Klaus’s eyes went wide and he quickly got her back to his bed, putting her down and reaching for the pacifier he had gotten. “Easy love, come here” he beckoned, holding out the object like one would hold a treat to tempt a dog. But Y/n wasn’t an animal and didn’t take his bait but instead scrambled with all her energy to get away from the stranger, resulting in a very serious game of hide and seek tag.
Klaus didn’t want to use his vampire abilities and terrify the girl and so chased after her at a more acceptable pace. Eventually she ran tied and he caught her in his hold but instead of harming her like she feared, his fingers attacked her with tickles. Her body lurched and curled as she giggled and squirmed against his hands.
Finally, when she began to scream that she would pee herself if he didn’t stoppit, he gave in and put an end to his torture. Once she calmed down and rest her head against the ground, she glanced up at him. Klaus was already looking back at her, ready for her to try and escape him again but she didn’t.
Instead she just stared and curled up though her body was much less tense now and she didn’t seem so stressed nor afraid. He smiled gently and rubbed her arm soothingly.
He stayed on the floor with her for a while, just petting her while she took him in. Only when the sound of a door slamming did he pick her back up but she didn’t bother struggling. He brought her back to bed and sat her down. “Stay here for me little one, I won’t be a minute” he whispered with a kiss to her temple.
Y/n watched as he left and was left with her thoughts once again.
Confusion was the most obvious feeling inside her but she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt when his hands stroked her soothingly and his scent filled her nose. And so she waited for him to come back.
When he did he was a little grumpy so when he sat back down with a sigh, she hesitantly crawled back over to him. He smiled at the gesture and pulled her into his lap, his arm wrapping around her body and his chin resting on top her head.
“Such a sweet girl, even when you’re not in little space” he murmured and she smiled shyly.
“I’m sorry” she whispered but he shook his head
“You’re too perfect to be sorry” he stated and she giggled. “I’m very serious little one, you mustn’t ever apologise for being so lovely. You’re a pretty little baby, you know that?” He muttered, encouraging a nod out of her. “That’s right my love” he smiled.
Y/n let herself relax against him and she took comfort in his hold.
And from that day, she spent more and more time at his house. Whether it was because she kept coming back or because Klaus never wanted her to leave was unclear.
Either way it was why Klaus ended up needing a baby sitter sometimes.
After finding that she was little almost always, which of course he adored, however when something overly important was happening that involved both himself and his siblings, he couldn’t risk leaving her completely alone in the abattoir.
To begin with the woman who came to look after her seemed nice. She was polite to the Mikaelsons and smiley. Apparently she only did that for the money.
As soon as they were all out, she was taking the piss. She’d raid their cupboards and snoop around. Y/n was left to care for herself while the ‘sitter’ did just that. She lounged around and made a mess only blame it on Y/n when Klaus came home. Klaus would just sigh and pick his girl up, her features would show distress so he would tell her he didn’t mind the mess and kiss her better. The sitter took advantage of this.
She could do whatever she wanted and just blame Y/n. Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt the little girl so it didn’t matter and Y/n wouldn’t dare tell the truth, not after she was threatened.
“You think he’s going to believe a freak like you?” She spat, giving Y/n a dirty look “you fucking dare tell him a thing and I’ll make sure that entire family hates you”
“They wouldn’t-“
“Not even if you were violent? Say you bit me? Or what if you weren’t pretty hm? What if I shred your hair and burn your face? You think that Klaus will want to look at that?” She laughed and Y/n’s eyes welled with tears.
The baby sitter would tell Y/n every time that she didn’t deserve someone like Klaus, that men like him didn’t really want girls like her and that the real reason he hired a sitter was so that he could go fuck real women and get away from her clingy self.
It made Y/n pull away from Klaus. She would hide in her crib that he deigned and pretend she was too little to sleep in bed with him. Often she would actually slip into her little space when she was in her crib, she would snuggle her teddies and eventually drift off.
But she wasn’t ever relaxed enough to go as young as she truly needed to be. Not when she was anxious that Klaus didn’t like when she behaved like that: “incompetent and pathetic” the sitter described it so Y/n tried to not go any younger than a toddler as of late. And when the sitter was actually there was even worse. She tried so hard to stay in big space but sometimes the stress and discomfort caused from the woman would cause Y/n to accidentally fall into her little mind.
That was when everything got worse.
The babysitter would treat her like an animal, installing more fear which only made her cling onto her little side to try and block out what was happening. But again this made things worsen. It was a viscous cycle.
The sitter had dragged Y/n by the wrist, ankle, hair or whatever else to get her out the way.
On the occasions the mikaelsons had the sitter stay over night, she would throw a party and force Y/n into her crib and put something big and heavy over the top so she couldn’t get out. Like a caged animal.
Y/n would scream and cry for hours, the sitters friends would laugh and poke fun at her until eventually she passed out from exhaustion.
But again she wouldn’t tell Klaus, she didn’t know how and she didn’t want to bother him. She knew of the sorts of things he dealt with and she didn’t think this would compare to life and death situations.
However that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try and ask for someone else to watch her if they could. Which was why Elijah was looking after her today.
He was more than happy to watch her, especially when Klaus spoke to him and was concerned with her recent behaviour.
“She’s been acting odd, she won’t sleep in her crib but she doesn’t want to touch me, she won’t drink from her bottle but can’t hold her glass stable enough. She won’t snuggle her teddies but won’t let go of a pillow instead and she won’t…she won’t call me Daddy. In fact she tries not to address me at all.” He whispered to his brother, his expression showing clear upset and confusion.
“I’ll look after her Niklaus, perhaps I can see if she’ll say anything to me? She might’ve done something bad and think you’ll be upset?” He questioned but Klaus shook his head
“She knows i wouldn’t ever hurt her, punish her maybe but it doesn’t hurt her. Somethings wrong, she won’t talk to me…she might trust you” he muttered, his voice broken at the thought of his girl trusting his brother more than him but he gave in and asked for help.
Elijah nodded and they spoke a small while more before Klaus went off out and Elijah went up to find Y/n.
She was dressed in some of Rebekah’s clothes though it was clear that she wasn’t comfortable in them and she kept her eyes on the floor even when he addressed her.
With a small sigh he came over to where she sat on the bed and squatted down infront of her. “Y/n?” He repeated softly, locking his eyes on hers “are you alright my dear?” He asked and she nodded silently. He gently cupped her hand in his and caressed the back of it “how about you put something a little comfier on today? We aren’t going anywhere this morning, it’s better to be warm and snuggly” he offered, going over to the drawers and pulling out some joggers and a pretty top that read ‘I 🩷 my Daddy’.
Y/n quietly did as she was asked and let him help her get changed, he frowned when he saw her wearing such an uncomfortable bra. She rarely wore a proper bra, it irritated her when she got little and they all knew it from times she would be out in public and would whimper to Klaus about it. It was why he bought her so many soft, wireless ones. But now she was subjecting herself to it when she was in her own home?
Elijah gently moved his hand round to unclip it, Y/n knew Elijah was safe and wouldn’t dare ever look or touch her in any way that she found uncomfortable so she didn’t react much though she couldn’t deny the little moan of relief when the item was removed and her top was slid on.
Shyly she look up at him, seeing him fold the other clothes and put them aside before turning back to her and lifting her up. He pulled her against his chest, ignoring how she tried to get down. He took her downstairs to the kitchen and got out her baby bottle, filling it with chocolate milk and sliding it towards her but she only stared at it.
He frowned and came back over to her. “Y/n, darling, what’s wrong?” He whispered, concern painting his face. “You aren’t yourself little one” he murmured, in response she only glances at him, her eyes showing an element of hurt.
Eventually he managed to get her to suck on the bottle and after many hours, he finally got her to slip fully. Which was how he ended up with her babbling in his arms as he made his way upstairs and to her and Klaus’s bedroom. “Such a good girl” he smiled as he went over to her once adored crib.
Just as he laid her down in it, a switch seemed to flick. Her eyes suddenly went wide and her breaking shattered. A cry left her lips and she clambered back up his body hysterically. Elijah let out a sound of surprise as she clung to him, shaking her head and sobbing. She begged him not to put her there, her poor body shook and she began to cry for her Daddy.
Elijah held her tight, quickly calling Klaus who hurried home but despite Y/n wanting him, she still wouldn’t go to him. Her mind told her she was embarrassing for him.
Klaus grew more distressed as he tried to make her look at him, to have her attention and provide her comfort.
It took far too long for her to get into his lap, still sobbing her apologies repeatedly.
“Baby girl” he whispered, his tone so gentle it broke her heart “you’re too perfect to be sorry” he uttered, a reminder of the first time she was with him. He rocked her soothingly, his hands all over as he tried his very best.
Slowly, her tears came to a stop and she settled against him. He kept her wrapped in his hold for a while before coaxing some words out of her.
With much effort he was able to figure out it was something to do with the baby sitter, he promised that nobody bar himself and his family would ever look after her again.
When she fell asleep in his arms, her face stained from crying and her clothes ruined from how much she had sweat from the panic, he cleaned her up and got her changed back into the same snuggly onesie as the first night she spent with him.
He didn’t put her down but instead carried her around, even when he went to his siblings and told them that he needed them to get the sister over immediately.
When the disgrace of a person arrived, Elijah quickly took Y/n into his hold while Rebekah also sat with them. She stroked Y/n’s hair comfortingly and listened closely to what was happening. Klaus and Kol had the woman by her throat compelling her her for answers on what she’d done to Klaus’s girl. After being forced to admit every horrible thing that she had done to Y/n, Klaus and Kol did their worse. Borderline maimed her.
Klaus then destroyed every last thing that the monster had used to destroy and ruin Y/n’s feelings of security and happiness.
He had to get rid of all her clothes, he refurbished his whole room and got her all new little things in an attempt to make her feel better.
Y/n appreciated the gesture but couldn’t just slip back into her ways. It took a lot of time from all the Mikaelsons. They cared for her as well as they possibly could and did everything possible to help her feel comfortable.
Slowly she felt safe enough to slip.
Klaus was ecstatic the first few times she went all the way. He wouldn’t ever let her go, he’d have her in diapers so that he could take care of everything and have her without an ounce or worry. He’d bounce her, rock her, feed and nurture her.
Klaus frequently reassured her that he loved her being little and that he never wanted to feel uncomfortable again. He just wanted to love her and keep her safe forever.
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lefluoritesys · 8 months
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TW: talk about physical abuse
Friendly reminder that physical abuse isn't just hitting or throwing something at someone. It's also knowing that you are injured and making you walk around for hours. It's putting you through physical labour that is causing you physical harm. Anything they make you do that causes you physical harm is physical abuse. Don't put it in a box. (At least for the sake of your own mental health)
-physical protector & external soother
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it-never-gets-better · 6 months
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MY BODY TURNED INTO A CORPSE WHEN YOU TOUCHED IT VIOLENTLY.
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neuroticboyfriend · 1 year
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abusiveness and predation is not unique to men. abusive women (and the abuse of men for that matter) are much, much more common than you think. if your support for abuse survivors only extends to women or people who were abused by men, you don't actually support survivors.
so to all the survivors who aren't women, and the survivors whose abusers weren't men: i believe you, and i see you. you deserve to be safe and supported. you are not alone. your pain and suffering matters just as much as others' does. what happened to you is just as awful, and i'm wishing you so much healing and happiness.
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sa-dnesss · 2 years
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My home will be a home with no loud anger, no explosive rage, no slamming doors or breaking glass, no holes punched into the walls, no name calling, shaming or blackmail. My home will be gentle, it will be warm. No fear, no hurt and no worries. I may come from a broken and twisted place but I will build something whole and safe.
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zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz7 · 8 months
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I want, deserve, need to be raped.
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girlblogging9 · 2 years
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imagine-darksiders · 1 year
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So, what do you think of this? Bowser sees Y/N in an extreme state of danger, like, I dunno, trying to be taken against her will by an arranged Prince suitor or something, and the state of her distress/fear get's him so mad he transforms into Giga Bowser.
Well, first of all, I have done nothing BUT think of this for the past week! Thanks so much for the inspiration! Here's a little drabble <3
TW: Physical abuse, Kidnapping, Captive Reader, Implied arranged marriage, Giga Bowser is kinda scary? Mentions of being eaten etc
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Bowser's thunderous footsteps come grinding to a halt of their own accord, stilling the colossal Koopa in his tracks at the opposite end of the docks, his eyes bulging open at the sight that looms out of the mist to greet him.
He's found you, his little runaway, for which he's rendered breathless with palpable relief.
But to his mounting dismay, there's another human with you.
A stranger...
A man.
And not only is this man encroaching well into your personal space, but his hands have captured your wrists as well, keeping you anchored in place with his chest shoved firmly against yours.
The pair of you are so wrapped up in the presence of the other, that neither one of you notices the King lurking nearby.
For a single beat, Bowser almost can't tear his wild-eyed stare away from the fingertips squeezing into your supple skin.
But then, he hears your voice, laden with thick and palpable alarm that's badly disguised by the composure you're attempting to maintain.
“Falkner, please,” you're shakily telling the other human, “Whatever agreement you may have had with my father is null and void now that he's dead!”
“Bullshit!” the stranger is quick to contend, giving you a rough jostle that throws fuel on the fire already raging in Bowser's gut, “Your old man promised you to me! I didn't sail halfway around the world just to be told no!”
Neither of you register the Koopa, not even when he lowers his horned head and takes a heavy, dangerous step towards you, his hackles starting to rise just like his gorge.
Just who the Hell does this idiot think he is to speak to you so crassly?!
Another step sends the pebbles near his feet skittering across the ground.
Your jaw is set, but you continue to tug at your ensnared wrists as you retort, “Promises made in a drunken stupor are hardly binding agreements!”
The man's face is swiftly changing from sallow and pallid to a vivid crimson and he parts his lips to shout, “You are mine by rights! You're coming with me!”
“Let me GO!” At last, perhaps inevitably, your voice cracks.
Bowser's jaw aches with how tightly his fangs are wedged together.
He can feel a fireball trying to crawl its way up his throat, leaving a sting that burns like venom along the walls of his trachea, but he gulps it down. No matter how great and terrible his rage might grow, he'd be remiss to let an attack loose with you so close to the firing line.
But there's something else building in his chest. Something swollen and ugly that rumbles like a slumbering giant just underneath his scales when he sees the moisture glistening on your dainty eyelashes.
Bowser hasn't ever seen you cry. Not even when he informed you that you'd be a permanent guest at his castle. Not even when it dawned on you that you could never go back to your old home across the seas. Not even when you fell from your window during an escape attempt and sprained your ankle, and the pain was great enough that you actually clung to him as he lifted you gently into his arms, your lips stuffed together to refrain from whimpering.
So to see you this close to tears now instills an outrage in him that differs from his usual temper. This is tumultuous. Primal, even.
He wants you to notice him now, to glance over and see that he's here for you, that you'll be all right because Bowser would never let anything bad happen to you.
Heart aflame, his pace quickens to a lurching gallop.
With a wrench, you manage to free one of your hands from Falkner's grip and use it to pry his fingers from your remaining wrist. “I said, GET! OFF!”
The anger in Bowser's chest dims only slightly to make room for a burst of pride.
But that momentary delight is stamped out as swiftly as it comes.
In an awful, jarring instant, the man - evidently fed up with your continued resistance – reels his hand back into the air behind his head, fingers pressed together, open-palmed...
Bowser can see the disaster unfurling right in front of him, but his shame is in knowing that he was too slow to stop it from happening.
The hand hurtles forwards...
A harrowing 'CRACK' ruptures the air as calloused skin meets the vulnerable flesh of your cheek.
Your head is flung sideways and you cry out, eyes wide with shock, and it's only then that your startled gaze land upon your audience. Cheek humming, the tears finally spill over the walls of your eyelids, tumbling in ceaseless rivulets down your face.
You choke on a wet sob, unable to drag your gaze away from the Koopa.
You can't summon the will to be pleased for his interference, if anything, you're ashamed to have been caught by your captor in a moment of such vulnerability.
Perhaps it's the tears distorting your vision, or perhaps the slap had knocked something loose in your brain, but through blurred vision, you think you can see a change come over Bowser, and if you didn't know any better, you'd almost swear that he was growing.
A hiss from your side catches your attention, but you don't turn to look at Falkner, though you can see him flapping his hand about to rid it of the lingering sting. “Damn,” he sucks a breath through his teeth, “Now look what you made me do... If you hadn't been so difficult, I wouldn't've had to do-” He finally notices the ground trembling beneath his leather boots. "-that...?"
Whatever had been hiding under the surface of Bowser's scales is howling out with rage, stirred from its slumber by the vicious and unprovoked attack on his friend.
Muscles ripple and bulge as they expand, bones snap, twisting out of shape. The Koopa King's gums burn as his fangs grow longer, sharper, squeaking against one another whilst his rapidly changing jaw struggles to keep up with their rate of growth.
It's agony, this transformation, but it can't be helped.
His friend has been struck. Hurt. And everything in him, every last instinct and sinew and atom, is bellowing out at him that he needs to protect you.
He would swallow this agony over and over again if it keeps you from experiencing pain.
He may be monstrous in size and temperament, but he isn't a monster.
He can't be...
Anger feeds into his expanding body, giving itself more space to spread like a wildfire, or perhaps more like a wave of churning acid that washes through his veins and takes the place of his blood.
It must... Because his body feels as if it's corroding.
“What the HELL is that?!”
Falkner's shriek adequately echoes your own inner monologue.
And you thought Bowser was terrifying before.
The tyrant must be absolutely livid with you for managing to escape from your room. If only you hadn't run into Sir Falkner on the docks. You went looking for a rescue party, but the man who did come to 'rescue' you might be even worse than King Bowser. At least Bowser, for all his uninvited clinginess, had never raised a hand against you.
Now though, locked in his blood-red stare, you start to wonder if you've pushed your luck just a step too far.
Pounding footsteps take off behind you, slapping against the cobblestone as Falkner simply turns tail and runs, leaving you frozen in place with your limbs as rigid as petrified wood, like your body knows instinctively that to turn your back and run from something with teeth that sharp is a very bad idea.
Inevitably, Bowser's head shoots up almost the moment Falkner starts to flee, and you're helpless but to watch on in horror as a gigantic paw surges over your head and snatches your would-be suitor right off the ground, hoisting the man up into the air.
Falker's resulting scream chills you down to the marrow in your bones, so wracked with terror and urgency that it sets your teeth on edge.
The oversized Koopa draws the thrashing human up to his maw and peels back his thick, rubbery lips, giving Falkner an uninterrupted view of his fate.
A constant growl spills between gleaming fangs, each one about the length of your own forearm, and the sound itself is loud enough that it could be mistaken for an unending grumble of far-off thunder, easily drowning out the man's screams.
It's gruesome to see. Your imagination runs wild with awful possibilities that you pray don't come to pass. Trembling in your boots, you lower your gaze to stare unblinkingly at the ground instead whilst short, sharp breaths fall out of your lungs, coming fast enough to leave you feeling light-headed.
Slowly, carefully, you take a single step back.
This might be your only chance to escape.
But then, like a damning acknowledgement of your cowardice, Falkner screams your name.
“Y/N!” he screeches, his back arched against the pain of being crushed in Bowser's grip, “HELP ME! PLEASE!”
'...You don't have to help him,' logic whispers into your ear, set on self-preservation, 'Nobody but his mother would miss him. He's a bad person, and you're not a hero.'
No. You're not a hero. And it certainly wouldn't be heroic to save a man like Falkner, who does more harm than good most days.
Bowser's immense jaws part in reaction to the human's screams, and his growl explodes into a deafening roar that blasts the man's hair back and forces him to pinch his eyes firmly shut.
Similarly, you raise your hands and slap them over your ears, teeth grit until the sound starts to fade. You can only imagine what the volume had done to Falkner's eardrums.
Even through the cushioning of your palms, you still hear him crying out once more, “DO SOMETHING!”
… Your head twists slowly towards a little wooden boat that bobs invitingly on the nearby docks. You're strong enough to work the oars, you could very easily jump into it, raise the little, white sail and let the wind carry you far out to sea, away from this place.
Away from Bowser.
This could be your only shot of escaping imprisonment and going home.
“I beg of you!”
… You could...
“Y/N!”
… Oh, damn it all.
Your eyes snap back up to Falkner and you immediately start to feel the burning of your cheek, as if to remind you of what he did.
But already, your scruples are disintegrating. A direct cry for help is a tough thing to ignore, after all.
On shaking knees, you reclaim the step you'd made in retreat and instead move towards Bowser, tipping your head back and peeling your tongue from the roof of your bone-dry mouth. “B-!” You falter on the first syllable and have to swallow roughly before trying again. “Bowser!”
Almost as soon as it had begun, the thunderous roar falls silent, echoing off in the distance until it's lost over the crashing waves.
Falkner continues to gasp and whimper inside the colossal fist, but those haunting, blood-red eyes turn gradually in your direction, pinning you once again in their subtle glow.
Your legs threaten to buckle as you realise he's now focusing solely on you.
You've no idea if he can be reasoned with in this state, but you know you can't do much else but try. “Release him, Bowser!” you yelp without an ounce of any real authority, “I'm the one who ran from you! Not him! Put him down!”
The docks are still and disarmingly placid for a time, disturbed only by the sounds of Falkner struggling to free himself, and the breaths that enter and leave a set of gargantuan lungs.
The hulking Koopa continues to glower down at you, his nostrils flared wide to reveal a red-hot glow from within, like a burning core.
Just as you begin to fear that your plea will go unheeded, Bowser hisses through his fangs, and then, without much ceremony, he simply opens his fist and Falkner goes tumbling out of it, landing awkwardly on his ankle and eliciting a yelp of pain. Still, he wastes no time in whirling over onto his backside and kicking madly to push himself out from under the behemoth's shadow.
You follow his retreat from the corner of an eye, but you don't break Bowser's stare.
You daren't, even as he takes a lumbering step in your direction. The ground underneath your shudders with the impact, as though the island itself is afraid of his wrath.
Another step covers much of the distance between you, and the realisation that he's coming your way snaps you out of your trance. You've given Falkner a chance to escape. Now, you'll be taking yours.
Skirts flying, you whip yourself about and take off in a dead sprint. Behind you, the air quivers as Bowser releases an urgent chuff, the heat from his breath washing disconcertingly over the back of your neck and spurring you to kick up your heels.
However, you barely make it ten paces before a colossal palm suddenly descends from the sky and crashes into the ground just ahead of you. You let out a yelp and hit the brakes, but you've already come too close to his hand, and so, like a venus fly trap closes around a hapless insect, Bowser's fingers spring to action, sweeping you up off your feet and pinning you against the soft, warm leather of his palm.
“No, no, no!” you bleat, scrabbling desperately at thick scales as the ground falls away below you and you find yourself lifted up to Bowser's big, yellow muzzle.
All you can do is wait for the crunch. For the pain. To hear your bones grind together when he eventually clenches his fist.
You're ashamed to cry in front of him, but you're too afraid to stop. Nausea churns your stomach and you screw up your face in anticipation, eyes clamped tightly closed.
The agony of waiting is almost too much for you to bear.
You're too wrapped up in your fear to notice that Bowser has yet to even slightly tighten his grasp. If anything, his hold is shockingly gentle. The pad of an immense thumb is pressed against your belly, exerting just enough pressure to keep you safely tucked in the hollow of his palm.
Several, unbearable seconds tick by whilst you quiver and breathe as though you've just run a mile.
You nearly lose your composure, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from demanding that he just get your punishment over with.
And then, you feel it.
A gentle pressure, so light that you'd think a butterfly must have landed on your neck, but when your eyes burst open and you catch sight of a monolithic finger all but filling your field of view, you realise what a fool you were to close your eyes at all.
Bowser, it seems, has raised his unoccupied hand towards you, and the very tip of a single claw has come to rest in the hollow of your throat. You can feel it's ghosting presence as you swallow thickly and your larynx presses a little more solidly against it for all of a second.
You're too stunned to make a move.
With a gentleness that doesn't at all befit his size, Bowser slowly lifts his claw, and in doing so, your head is pushed up, then turned slightly to one side, exposing your cheek.
The cheek that had been viciously struck.
Why is he...?
Pinned under the weight of his scrutiny, you fall utterly motionless, your mouth stuck open as if you're emitting a silent scream.
A lonely tear escapes the confines of your lashes and trickles down to your chin when it dangles precariously for a before it falls, plopping down onto Bowser's fingertip.
The behemoth's muzzle shifts close, and those dark and dangerous eyes narrow to thin slits as he inspects your cheek. You'd almost entirely forgotten about the throbbing ache lancing across your face, and even now, adrenaline is doing wonders at keeping most of the discomfort at bay.
All of a sudden, Bowser's pupils shrink and a thrum of aggression starts up in his chest like the engine of some ancient and powerful machine. Drawing his head away from you, he twists it over his bulging shoulder and aims a vicious snarl in the direction that Falkner had fled.
You can't help but flinch when his fingers twitch around you, but he must have noticed the movement, because not a second later, the growl is cut off and he swings his nose around to peer down at you again, his slitted pupils expanding like ink in water once they land on you.
Your pulse is jackhammering against your skin. Nothing about this is adding up. He seems more agitated about Falkner than about you. But... you're the escaped prisoner...
You don't have much time to ponder over his strange behaviour though. Just as carefully as it had appeared, the Koopa's forefinger slides gradually from beneath your chin and you can finally gulp down a greedy breath of air, realising belatedly that you'd stopped breathing the moment he touched you.
All around you, the behemoth starts to move, pulling you close and tucking you against his chest as he takes step after impossibly lengthy step, turning his immense bulk about to head back across the island to your gloomy, familiar prison.
--------------
You used to wonder if it was simply Bowser's ostentatious taste in décor that made him choose such grand, wide doorways to separate the rooms of his castle. Now however, as the gargantuan Koopa squeezes himself through the entrance to your given chambers, his shell scraping noisily against the wooden doorframes, you realise the design might lend more to practicality than aesthetic, especially if this... transformation happens on a regular basis around here.
God, you hope not...
You've remained stiff as a board in Bowser's unwavering grasp all the way back, fearful of provoking a violent reaction out of him like you had when you tried to struggle out of Falkner's grip.
Shoulders sagging as he releases a massive sigh, the Koopa trundles to a stop at the foot of your bed and at long, long last, he peels you away from his chest. Your ears ring after so much time spent having to listen to a mighty heart thudding rhythmically right next to your head.
Again, with a care that you certainly never would have expected him to possess, Bowser cups you in his palms and lowers you onto the plush sheets, sliding his hands out from underneath you as if he's placing down a fragile, porcelain doll.
As soon as you're out of his grasp, he deflates, heaving a billowing breath and all but dropping onto all fours in front of you. Alarmed, you scramble backwards until your spine hits the bed's headboard, blurting out a yelp when Bowser's chin drops down to thwack on the sheets in front of you. The weight of his skull alone causes the bed to buckle and groan in protest, but to your astonishment, it somehow manages to support him as he gets himself settled, peering down the length of his snout and ensnaring you in that ruby-red gaze once more.
Your fingers flex into the sheets around you, bunching them up and wrinkling the fine cotton.
'Now what's he doing?'
His eyes are glued to your cheek again, his intense stare broken by the occasional, languid blink.
You're not expecting it when he suddenly moves.
He only extends his neck a little to bring his head closer to you, but he's so massive, the motion it far more jarring from your perspective. With a shriek, you slam your eyes shut and instinctively throw up your hands, pressing them hard against the soft muzzle, as if they alone are enough to keep him from advancing on you any further. To your immense shock however, the moment your fingers meet the warm surface of his nose, Bowser falls still.
You risk prying open an eyelid to peep up at him.
Judging by the impossibly wide smile that now stretches across his face, he's apparently delighted by this new development.
This is the first time you've touched his face.
Your palm is almost lost to a vast expanse of yellow skin, sitting right on the ridge of his nose between his flaring nostrils.
The Koopa's own gaze is heavy-lidded, each pupil angled to keep you within his sights whilst a pleased hum travels through his throat and causes the bed to quake underneath you.
His fangs remain safely tucked behind his lips, and as the seconds tick by without your hand getting snapped off, the tension in your fingers gradually begins to dissipate.
With your heartbeat receding as well, you allow yourself to lightly stroke just the tips of your fingers down his snout until they pause on the cusp of his upper lip, drawing a reverent shudder from the almighty juggernaut.
Pressing your teeth together, you inhale slowly through your nose, and murmur, “...Bowser?”
It's as if you've just broken him from some kind of trance.
The King's face suddenly twists up and he emits a throaty groan, like he's in pain.
Quick as a flash, you tear your hand from his muzzle and press yourself back as far away as you can when he peels his chin from the bed and brings both of his gargantuan paws up to clutch at his head, staggering to his feet.
“Bowser!” you cry again, this time in alarm, “What's happening!?”
A disconcerting notion occurs to you - that he could be on the verge of going bezerk - and you hurriedly throw back the covers with a view to scramble off the bed and make a break for the doors. But as soon as you move, the Koopa's eyes spring open again and zero in on you, trapping you in a stare so full of frantic desperation that you stop at once, though more from confusion than fear.
And so, you're left to do nothing but watch as the jagged behemoth undergoes another, painful transformation.
The heavy shell on his back grows smaller, losing the serrated quality of its spikes. His tail shortens, his jutting fangs soften around their edges. The sweeping horns on his head recede back inside his rapidly shrinking skull until only their tips remain poking out from between his mess of a mane.
You almost choke on a gushing sigh of relief when at last, the King is back to his regular, brutish self, knelt on the ground at the foot of your bed - though it strikes you quite abruptly that you shouldn't be feeling reassured by Bowser's presence, no matter which form he takes.
Despite your misgivings, you still find yourself croaking out, “A-are you okay?”
Arduously, he braces a palm on the end of the bed and uses it to push himself up onto his feet again, eventually dragging his eyes over to you. He gives you a brief, searching glance, focusing for an uncomfortable minute on your face, then, without a word, the Koopa spins around and staggers purposefully towards the adjoining bathroom, disappearing through the door.
Plagued by uncertainty, you allow your fists to tentatively unclench around the bedsheets, lowering them into your lap as the squeak of a tap filters out from beyond the ensuite door, followed by the unmistakable rush of running water.
Another squeak... and a few moments later, the Koopa comes stomping back into the room, this time with a wet flannel clutched inside his meaty paw.
“You should've let me pulverise 'im,” he grumbles, stalking around the bed until he comes to the side you're sitting on.
Gobsmacked, you let your mouth fall open, close it, then open it once more to ask, “I... I beg your pardon?”
“That GUY!” he snaps, “You shouldn't'a stopped me. He deserved the worst!”
You blink stupidly, lifting your eyebrows in tandem until they sit high on your forehead. “I'm sorry.. Are we... not going to talk about what just happened to you!?”
“What's there to talk about?” he grunts, flicking his tail up onto the bed before sinking his hefty backside down after it, fidgeting with the sodden flannel between his claws, “You got hurt. I got mad.”
“You got mad!?” Scoffing at the absurd understatement, you continue, “Bowser - you turned into a gigantic, terrifying monster who looked like he was three seconds away from chewing me up and spitting me back out! All because somebody slapped me!?”
You expect an uproarious retort, which would definitely be in keeping with your usual repartee with him, so it comes as a shock when Bowser glares heatedly at you for a few moments, then merely turns his nose away from you, hiding his expression.
It's... notably uncharacteristic of the hot-tempered Koopa. So much so that it prompts you to tilt your head and call, “Bowser?”
You can't see his face beyond the shell that covers his back, but motion on the covers draws your gaze down to see his tail. Slowly, the appendage curls inwards, tucking itself up against his thigh. Dejected.
“You didn't deserve what he did...”
You look up at Bowser again, blinking owlishly to find his arm reaching back towards you, though the King keeps his face stubbornly pointed in the opposite direction. The little, white flannel is draped across his proffered palm.
Keeping a dubious eye on the Koopa, you hesitantly stretch your hand out to his, pinching the fabric between your thumb and forefinger and pausing for a second to marvel over how cold it is. Drawing it into your grasp, you waste no time in bringing it up to your face and gently pressing the cool material against your cheek, unable to keep back the tiny smile that grows on your face with that slight modicum of relief.
You recognise his gesture is meant to be a peace offering, and you are grateful for the flannel... But you're also still bitter.
“So,” you hum pensively, eyeing his robust arm as it drops down to rest on the bed beside him, “I didn't deserve that. But I do deserve to be locked up and held prisoner in your castle?”
“I keep you safe.” His head twitches in your direction with a cursory show of teeth that are hardly very frightening anymore, not now that you've seen what they can become, “I keep you fed and warm and happy. I'd never hurt you.”
“No. You keep me fed and warm, and that's it,” you tell him sharply, “I don't feel safe here. And I am far from happy.”
You're more than aware that you're antagonising him, but you think you're damn well within your rights to do so. It isn't enough that he keeps you locked up in this castle and forbids you your freedom, but now he expects you to act as if you're happy about it too?
Another, disgruntled noise leaves him as he lurches off the bed, landing on his feet with a thud.
"Where are you going?" you demand.
"I'm-!" Bowser heaves a sigh, running a clawed hand through his thick, fiery mane. “I'm goin' to get you a proper ice-pack...” Trailing off, the King tromps heavily across your room, making his agitation known with every, deliberate step until he reaches the door.
Your teeth tug at a piece of loose skin on your lower lip. “... Bowser.”
He pauses, his hulking frame suddenly looking so small and vulnerable in the gargantuan doorway, with one of his hands sitting poised upon the handle.
Even from the bed, you can see the flash of his crimson iris swivelling in your direction.
You try to regard him passively, but the ice in your gaze is starting to melt fraction by fraction, and you don't know whether he can see it or not. “... Thanks,” you call gently anyway, lifting your shoulder into a shrug, “For... you know, for scaring Falkner off.”
You watch his eyelid widen, as if he's surprised to hear a word of thanks, from you of all people.
There's even the minutest quiver in his lip as it tries to tug itself up into the ghost of a smile. But then, he gives his head a rough shake, and the smile is gone.
“Just protectin' what's mine,” he rumbles, pushing the door open and slipping through the gap. The door closes again a second later, and your ears catch the sound of a heavy key sliding into the lock and turning, sending the tumblers clunking home.
… What's his...
Right.
A hollow space expands between your ribs, the familiar hole that disappointment often leaves behind.
Drawing your knees up against your chest, you wrap an arm around yourself for comfort, keeping the flannel pressed to your cheek as you wait for him to return with that ice pack.
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a-sip-of-milo · 6 months
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Children's movies, TV shows, etc. need to stop enforcing the idea that emotional and verbal (and sometimes even physical) abuse is because the parents love them.
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brok3nvinyl · 1 year
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I just wanna be loved
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klausysworld · 5 months
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This request might be too much and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So pls ignore if it does.
My idea is Klaus x human reader. Klaus and her become close and form a friendship. She’s dating someone for 4 years now and it starts to get abusive (mentally/physically or both). She finally confides and confesses to Klaus after he notices something is off. He basically helps her get out of it when one day said boyfriend follows her into the mikaleson house and tries to get reader out of there aggressively. The mikaelson’s hear the commotion and Klaus does something.
Flash forward to Klaus and reader in an established relationship, though reader is scared to be intimate as she’s still struggling from last relationship. One day Klaus and reader are getting into it and Klaus pulls her by her ankles to bring her towards him and it triggers her fight or flight (as Klaus doesn’t know last bf used to do that when hurting reader) and so instantly she hits him in self defence and then profusely apologizes. But Klaus is just understanding and holds her and tells her he loves her and if all he gets is holding her. Then he can live with that. The way it ends can be however you want.
Just been going through some things and needed to feel and I absolutely love your style of writing.
Again pls ignore if this makes you uncomfortable, that’s not my intent! Thank you!
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(Triggering content, please don't read this if it might trigger you and know that both myself and so many people are there for you to talk to)
Her protector
Klaus had been concerned for a few weeks now.
Y/n was a sweet human, she was kind even to the Mikaelsons and had become close friends Rebekah after helping her choose a necklace for a party she was hosting. Rebekah proceeded to insist that Y/n come and that she would love to make some friends here in New Orleans.
If Rebekah was honest, she was surprised when Y/n actually showed up, with a vampire boyfriend no less. Either way she showed the girl around and they got talking, drinking and dancing. Y/n's boyfriend had seemed sweet, loving and on top of that he was friends with Marcel, one of his few day-walkers.
At that point everything was still okay. Mostly.
Until Klaus had come over and attempted to flirt with Y/n. Her soft cheeks had started to turn pink when a man, a vampire, slung his arm over her shoulders from behind her and gave Klaus a threatening glare. Rebekah let out a tipsy giggle and smacked Klaus's arm
"Leave her alone Nik, she's taken and my friend" she grinned but Klaus only stared back at the other guy. Y/n glanced between the two for a second and Bex rolled her eyes. "Come on Y/n, let them gaze at one another" she laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her away.
Klaus didn't like that anybody thought they could challenge him, he didn't care if the girl was married if he wanted to flirt with her then he would. There was no harm done but the man before him was acting as though he had slaughtered his family.
However Marcel had seen the two in a silent stare down and threw his arms over both of them "My two best guys" he grinned "Lets go get a drink"
And so somehow Klaus found himself some-what drunk and laughing with this man, it was only the next morning when after he woke did he realise the way the guy spoke about his lover was a little off. He talked like he owned her, like she was a toy.
Klaus brushed it off though, it's not like he hadn't done similar things. Besides it's not like her knew her.
Until he did. And she was so lovely that it confused him.
Often Rebekah would have her over, painting each others nails, one of those time Klaus had stumbled in covered in cuts and scrapes. Rebekah offered a tut and a shake of her head but Y/n was already at his side, her hand on his arm while she asked if he was okay.
"He's fine, it's his own fault anyway. Always starting fights" she mumbled while watching her new friend help her brother sit down. She asked Rebekah to go get him some blood which she reluctantly did, handing it to Y/n and watching in interest as she lifted it to his lips. Klaus's eyes watched her with interest as his lips wrapped around the top and he began to gulp down the red substance. She checked his wounds were healing as he drained the bag of every last drop.
She had offered to help him clean up but he shook his head and told her to enjoy her day with his sister.
After that she was always nice to him, making him a drink if she was already getting one, bringing him back to eat when her and Bex had been at a cafe or something. She would tell him his hair looked nice or that she liked certain colours on him. One way or another she always made him smile.
Y/n knew that Klaus was lonely, often sad or grumpy. She had seen it and been told it so she made an effort to brighten his days. Rebekah always said it was nice seeing her brother a little happier and she was glad that them being originals didn't put Y/n off.
Their friendship grew strong and so did Klaus and Y/n's. Until one day when Y/n's boyfriend had seen her fixing Klaus's hair, using her fingers to curl the top pieces. He didn't say anything to her then but once she came home accusations were thrown at her. She was called a cheater and a slut, desperate for attention and fucking stupid if she thought either of the Mikaelsons thought of her as anything more than a toy.
She slept on the couch, crying her eyes out and cancelling her plans with Rebekah for the next day.
She tried to spend less time with her but Bex only got upset and ended up at Y/n's house instead. Y/n thought that he wouldn't get mad if it was just Bekah and no Klaus. So she and Rebekah went to hers more often than not and the few times she went back to the abattoir she would try avoid Klaus.
She was always polite of course, smiled at him and said hello but she didn't get too close if she didn't feel that she had to. Nor did she say anything about how he looked, even when he wore her favourite henley and grew his curls a little longer.
The only times she gave him some extra attention was when he was physically injured. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't let him struggle alone and in pain. So she would be there with a warm, wet cloth wiping away any blood while she held him a blood-bag to his mouth.
"Have I upset you recently sweetheart?" he asked quietly as she cleaned the stains off his neck
"No?" she whispered and he lowered her head to look up at her and catch her eyes
"Then why won't you look at me?" he questioned and she shrugged, looking into his eyes
"I am" she stated and he hummed
"You haven't been very nice to me lately, love" he told her and she nibbled her lip nervously
"I didn't mean to upset you" she murmured but he just stared at her for a moment
"I haven't seen you around much" he muttered
"I've been at home more, Bekah comes to me instead" she mumbled, and he nodded, leaving the conversation at that.
But he didn't know that when she got home her boyfriend had her by the hair, telling her that he had seen her talking with Klaus. Seen her caressing his face and going into his room. She tried to explain that he was hurt and that she was helping him but he couldn't care less.
"Bet you were fucking helping him" he seethed "Bet he gets all pent up after starting wars. Needs to get his frustration out hm?" he laughed cruelly and she shook her head
"No, no- I would never! You know I would never-" she cried but he refused to believe her.
"You were always such a whore, can't go ten fucking minutes without begging for it" he growled, dragging her to their room. She was useless at fighting back, he was a vampire and significantly bigger than her. So when she was thrown onto the bed and grabbed tightly by the ankles, she couldn't kick at him without him snapping her legs.
She hid away after that night, telling Rebekah that she was sick and didn't want to see anyone for a few days.
But once a week had passed and her boyfriend was still angry at her no matter what she did, she knew she needed to get out and see someone or she would go mad.
Rebekah and her had gone to a coffee shop, Y/n wanted to be somewhere public and without the risk of Klaus or her boyfriend showing up.
Rebekah could tell something was wrong though, Y/n was never that quiet or skittish. She was walking a little funny and did't eat much at all. And at any mention of Klaus, Y/n shut down the conversation in seconds. It made Bex think that her brother had hurt her or scared her so when they both returned home, she began to accuse Klaus, questioning and demanding.
It only made both Mikaelsons to become worried. They didn't realise how their whispering about Y/n caught her so called lovers attention and made him go back to her furious.
He always seemed to be flooded with anger recently. He hadn't ever been so horrid for so long in the past. Accusing her of cheating was something that always had happened, his jealousy had always been an issue but never this bad. Maybe it was because he knew that Klaus wouldn’t back down if he wanted her. Maybe it was because of whatever drunken conversation the two had on the first night they met.
Either way there was no excuse.
All there was, was fear and pain. And she knew that she needed to get out. The only people who could save her from a psychotic vampire was an even worse one.
So she climbed out her own bathroom window and ran, caught a cab and then climbed in through one of the Mikaelson's windows. It was late, dark but it was the best time for her to escape. What wasn't helpful was the amount of night-walkers that were downstairs. Most of which, were close with her boyfriend so she was screwed.
However, whether it was luck or fate, Rebekah and Marcel came down the stairs, arguing which made the others scatter off. It gave her the opportunity she needed.
She darted up the stairs, as quietly as she could and to Klaus's room. Trying to open the door but it was locked making her knock quietly "Klaus?" she whispered desperately "Klaus please" she begged, her eyes leaking with tears. She banged her fist agains the wood of the door making her wince from how her wrists had been held just hours before.
A tired grunt sounded from the other side before the door was ripped open, a very annoyed hybrid on the other side though his demeanour dropped when he felt a body latch onto his, arms around his mid-section and face in his chest.
He looked down, his eyes fully open now. "Y/n?" he mumbled, his hand cupping the back of her head.
"Please help" she whispered and he gently scooped her up, flicking the lamp on and putting her in his bed. She was in. sweatpants and one of her boyfriends shirts so he assumed she must've been in bed before she came. He quickly grabbed some sleep pants to cover himself up as he was in only his boxers.
He then sat beside her, letting her pull herself closer to her with a soft cry leaving her lips. He held her close in his lap and shushed her gently "What's happened?" he asked gently but she shook her head.
It was only another minute before Rebekah was at the door, she had heard the crying and recognised it as Y/n. Her face dropped and she came rushing in. She got onto the bed as well and stroked her hair "Y/n..." she breathed, holding her hand. Klaus and her exchanged a look as they listened to her try and hiccup her tears away.
"Sweetheart it's alright" he whispered, rubbing her back under the shirt before he noticed her face scrunch in pain and he frowned. "She's hurt" he mumbled and Rebekah quickly sat up straight, lifting her top slightly despite her protests to see the bite marks in her flesh.
"Christ" Bekah gasped and Klaus's expression darkened. He lifted her up to straddle his lap sp he could have a better look at her but she began to cry out hysterically at the position and he quickly lay her back down, guilt and worry consuming him when she crawled to Rebekah instead. Bex wrapped her arms around her and whispered quietly for only Y/n to hear. "Who did this?" she uttered, her fingers gently running through her soft hair. "Was it..." she trailed, but the look on Y/n's face was enough.
"I didn't know where else to go- he knows so many people" she sobbed and Rebekah nodded
"He won't touch you now" She whispered, looking to Klaus who was halfway out the door to find Marcel. "Nik's gonna take care of it all okay?"
"What's he gonna do?"
"You don't need to know that honey" she murmured softly.
They waited for a little while, Y/n stayed in Rebekah's arms and started telling her everything that had happened. By the time she was finished they were both crying and wrapped up in Klaus's duvet
"The worst part is that...I do think that I have feelings for Klaus" she whispered "he was right-"
"It wouldn't matter if you were actually sleeping with another man, under no circumstances does he have the right to lay a hand on you. You're not any of those things he called you, you're an angel" Rebekah told her, stroking her hair gently. Bekah glanced up to see Klaus stood in the doorway, eyes soft as he made his way back over.
He had heard Y/n admit to her feelings but knew that now was not the time to tell her he reciprocated them, he knew she would need time. So instead he just came back to his bed and shifted in beside her so she was between him and Rebekah.
"He ran as soon as he saw me but I promise I'll find him and I'll kill him" he whispered, gently brushing his hand over her back. "It'll be okay, just close your eyes sweetheart, I'll protect you" he promised, sharing a look with Rebekah as they all laid down and he flicked the lamp off.
After that night, Y/n slept in Klaus's bed every night. He kept her close to him during the days too, pressed to his chest with his arm around her. She was much quieter after everything, he could sense her embarrassment but he didn’t understand it. It wasn't her fault this had happened to her. He tried to talk to her about it but she wouldn't look him in the eye and he was only making her uncomfortable so he tried not to bring it up. Instead things seemed to go back to somewhat normal, they complimented each other and had their usual conversations which were mostly about random things to keep their minds off any supernatural drama.
Klaus hadn't been going out much recently which meant she didn't have to clean him up but sometimes when they lay in bed to go sleep she would trace his face.
Everything appeared to be going well for a little while before Y/n's boyfriend showed up out of the blue. It was one of those unfortunate times that Klaus was out.
He sped behind Y/n while she was in the kitchen, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her screaming as he lifted and dragged her toward the exit. Growling in her ear and called her a filthy whore, saying she would never escape him.
What he didn't know was that one of the other vampires saw him and were under direct orders to call Klaus if he was spotted.
Klaus came rushing in, his teeth straight in the man’s neck causing him to drop Y/n to the floor and cry out in agony as the werewolf venom too quick affect.
Klaus had Y/n in his arms within a second, vamp-speeding them to his their room. Her face was held against the crook of his neck, encouraging her to breath in his scent and calm her breathing.
“He’s gone” klaus whispers “He’ll be dead by tomorrow” he told her gently “And a werewolf bite is a slow and painful death for a vampire” he reminded. “He deserves to suffer” he muttered and she nodded slowly.
“I hate him” she uttered.
“I know you do sweetheart” he mumbled as he pressed soft kisses to the side of her head.
Everything was a little better after his body was found. She felt safe in the house without the risk of him grabbing her. She was able to sit with Klaus and Rebekah without the worry of someone watching her.
But it didn’t stop the night terrors. She would wake up screaming thinking that he had come back to life and had taken her, tortured her. Instead, however, she would find Klaus. Out of breath with a healing bruise on his face from where she hand fought back in her sleep. The apologies would start tumbling amongst her sobs but he would just pull her close and kiss her better. Promising it didn’t hurt and that he understood.
Often he would go into her mind, with her permission, and give her better things to think about. Give her peace.
That helped her a lot, between Klaus’s affection and Rebekah’s constant company, she began to feel happy.
She and Bekah went shopping a lot, went out for lunch again or just sat in Bex’s room talking and giggling. They both felt as though they had gained a sister of sorts. Rebekah was so glad to have Y/n and to be able to help her, she also really hoped that Y/n and Klaus would get married so that they were sister-in-laws.
Rebekah was their biggest supporter, always telling Y/n that Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt her and that he already loved her so she didn’t have to worry about the rejection. But Y/n was still nervous, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for another relationship.
But eventually, months down the line, kisses on the head became kisses on the lips. Their hugs became cuddle sessions and instead of eating in the same room they cooked together and ate together. Klaus planned extravagant dates while Y/n arranged much simpler but just as intimate ones. Klaus would beg Y/n to let him paint her and she begrudge dress up for him and pose.
The only issue in Y/n’s mind was that she didn’t feel comfortable enough when Klaus would touch her more sexually. As soon as the gentle touches became more frustrated, more needy, she couldn’t handle it.
But over time she got a little better, heavy make-out sessions became more and more common and part of her thought that maybe sex was on the table until something triggered her.
Klaus had his hands all over her, his tongue in her mouth as she moaned softly. Her hands were curled into his soft curls as she tugged gently. His hands slid up her top and her back arched slightly. Everything was going well, her legs were round his waist and soft little pleas left her lips for him to give her more.
He pulled away slowly, his nose just brushing hers as he sat up. He smiled down at her as she followed suit and sat up with him, her legs dropping down.
“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered and she nodded, his smile widened and he took ahold of her ankles. Just as he went to pull her closer, a panicked cry left her and her foot kicked him in the chest, hard.
His hands let go of her and he held his chest in confusion before looking up and seeing the fear in her face. His expression softened and he raised his hands in surrender “Y/n, love, it’s just me” he told her gently. “It’s okay” he whispered, cautiously he shifted closer.
“I’m sorry” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears “I’m so sorry” she repeated, pulling her knees to her chest.
Gently he brought his hands out and picked her up, pulling her onto his lap “it’s okay, it was my fault” he mumbled, kissing her lips gently
“It’s not your fault- it’s mine, I’m broken” she cried but she shook her head.
“It’s his fault” he whispered and she let out a soft sob. “He hurt you, but you’ve never been broken. You’re just still hurting”
She sniffled and nuzzled close “I just…I wish could-“
“I know…I know but we can wait. We can wait for as long as you need” he murmured softly.
“But…what if I can’t…like ever?” She whispers but still he smiled
“Then I’ll just hold you and kiss you and take you to dinner like usual. I believe I owe you a bouquet of flowers, no?” He hummed and she wiped her eyes with a sniff
“You do?”
“I do, come on, we’ll go pick a bunch” he held her close and lifted her as he stood, carrying her down the stairs listening to her little laugh as she pressed her face to his chest. She knew not many men would be as loving and understanding as he was, she knew Klaus wouldn’t hurt her nor would he ever leave her.
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sl33pybug · 11 months
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Some whump art 🫶🏻
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it-never-gets-better · 6 months
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NO ONE GETS IT. NO ONE KNOWS HOW IT FEELS LIVING IN THIS BODY.
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