Nanni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tiamatschild) wrote2012-04-09 07:54 pm
tiamatschild) wrote2012-04-09 07:54 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: "Give You Back Everything You Feel" (K) Homestuck
Title: Give You Back Everything You Feel
Author: Tiamat’s Child
Fandom: Homestuck
Word Count: 900
Rating: K
Characters/Pairing: Equius <> Nepeta
Summary: If Nepeta has to bully Equius into talking every time he needs a feelings jam, then that is exactly what she's going to do.
Warnings: Characters under eighteen.
Notes: For![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo, prompt: Verbal Humiliation
Give You Back Everything You Feel
Equius was convinced that he was the primary stabilizing force in their shiny new moriallegiance. He thought Nepeta was too careless with her own safety, that she was overconfident and reckless, that she would die before she grew up. He'd asked her, he'd begged her, blushing and shaking and fiddling with his hair. “It is inappropriate to grovel,” he'd said. “I shouldn't,” he'd said. “Allow me to look after you,” he'd said. “You do not understand how dangerous – please, Nepeta. I want to have the right to consider your interests mine.”
Which was ridiculously formal. Nepeta hadn't even thought anybody actually made pale declarations like that except in court dramas, all explicit about alliances and loyalties. Even stumbled over and scorched with shame, half denial and half demand, it was hopelessly romantic.
And she ached for Equius, for the way he hurt himself and hid himself and told himself he was bad. Nepeta wanted to crack him open, take his skin off whole, shove him over and kneel on his ribs and make him shake himself apart so he knew everything that was good about him and stopped trying to smother it, destroy it, cut it out of her and him. She pitied him so much she could taste it on her tongue and feel it press outward behind her eyes. Sometimes she felt as if her feelings for him were something fragile and alive that she carried in her mouth the way Pounce de Leon had carried her when she was a wriggler. She had to be careful not to bite down, even when she was angry, even when she wanted to.
So she said yes. Yes, she said. Yes.
Nepeta knew herself to be Equius' equal. But she also knew Equius didn't know she was. She wanted him. She wanted to be with him, to stand with him, to make him understand that if her interests were his, his interests were hers.
To do that she needed to make him know what she knew too.
“Stop it, Equius,” she said, scrambling over his work bench to kneel in the middle of his several current projects, wrenches and gears and half assembled limbs about her knees. “You can't just tell me I shouldn't do something and start ignoring me. I'm at your hive. Equius, Equius, you're upset. I know you're upset. I can smell feelings, even weak ones, and yours are strong, so - ”
“Nepeta,” he said. “I did not say you should not play FLARP. I said you are not going to.” He didn't look up at her.
She contemplated kicking him, but he'd probably just let her and then lecture her on self preservation and manners because he thought she was a breakable wild child who couldn't control herself, and if she couldn't control herself than she sure couldn't control him and he needed control. So instead she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, opened them again, and started to talk. “You're not just upset,” she said. “You're scared. That's why you won't look at me. You won't look at me at all. You're scared and I think you're sad too. You think you can hide it if you just don't look at me, but that won't work because you always show everything you're feeling.”
Equius was a soft shade of blue now. His skin had a sheen to it. “There, you see?” Nepeta said, and let her voice be sharp. “You're sweating because you know I'm right and you like it when I tell you what you're feeling. You can't say it unless I say it first. You want me to tell you what you feel or you wouldn't ever have wanted me as your meowrail - ”
“Nepeta, please.”
“No, Equius! There's something you really, really, really want to tell me.”
Equius shuddered. Nepeta could see him move from where she sat, could see the muscles shift in his shoulders and neck and down his back. She made her voice go gentle again because she didn't really want to really hurt him. She didn't want him to feel alone in his hurt and his struggle ever ever again. She just wanted to mark her presence on him, to make him always turn to her instead of in on himself, although she knew that if she had to pry him open every time she would, she would, she always would, she'd never leave be. “You're going to tell me, aren't you, Equius?”
“Nepeta,” he said, and put his hands on his knees, pressed open, his fingers hyper-extended above his palms.
“You're going to tell me,” she said. Something rose up in her, quiet and steady and brave, almost like the way she felt when she hunted but softer, wider, more like a kind of certainty. By saying it she was making it true.
Equius bowed his head. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. Very well.”
Nepeta leapt off the bench and threw herself on him, hugging his neck and smiling so hard it hurt within the first thirty seconds. “Oh, good!” she said. “I'm so puuurred of you!” She stretched up, rubbing her nose against his.
“Don't worry,” she told him. “You can tell me anything. I'll always take care of you.”
Author: Tiamat’s Child
Fandom: Homestuck
Word Count: 900
Rating: K
Characters/Pairing: Equius <> Nepeta
Summary: If Nepeta has to bully Equius into talking every time he needs a feelings jam, then that is exactly what she's going to do.
Warnings: Characters under eighteen.
Notes: For
kink_bingo, prompt: Verbal HumiliationGive You Back Everything You Feel
Equius was convinced that he was the primary stabilizing force in their shiny new moriallegiance. He thought Nepeta was too careless with her own safety, that she was overconfident and reckless, that she would die before she grew up. He'd asked her, he'd begged her, blushing and shaking and fiddling with his hair. “It is inappropriate to grovel,” he'd said. “I shouldn't,” he'd said. “Allow me to look after you,” he'd said. “You do not understand how dangerous – please, Nepeta. I want to have the right to consider your interests mine.”
Which was ridiculously formal. Nepeta hadn't even thought anybody actually made pale declarations like that except in court dramas, all explicit about alliances and loyalties. Even stumbled over and scorched with shame, half denial and half demand, it was hopelessly romantic.
And she ached for Equius, for the way he hurt himself and hid himself and told himself he was bad. Nepeta wanted to crack him open, take his skin off whole, shove him over and kneel on his ribs and make him shake himself apart so he knew everything that was good about him and stopped trying to smother it, destroy it, cut it out of her and him. She pitied him so much she could taste it on her tongue and feel it press outward behind her eyes. Sometimes she felt as if her feelings for him were something fragile and alive that she carried in her mouth the way Pounce de Leon had carried her when she was a wriggler. She had to be careful not to bite down, even when she was angry, even when she wanted to.
So she said yes. Yes, she said. Yes.
Nepeta knew herself to be Equius' equal. But she also knew Equius didn't know she was. She wanted him. She wanted to be with him, to stand with him, to make him understand that if her interests were his, his interests were hers.
To do that she needed to make him know what she knew too.
“Stop it, Equius,” she said, scrambling over his work bench to kneel in the middle of his several current projects, wrenches and gears and half assembled limbs about her knees. “You can't just tell me I shouldn't do something and start ignoring me. I'm at your hive. Equius, Equius, you're upset. I know you're upset. I can smell feelings, even weak ones, and yours are strong, so - ”
“Nepeta,” he said. “I did not say you should not play FLARP. I said you are not going to.” He didn't look up at her.
She contemplated kicking him, but he'd probably just let her and then lecture her on self preservation and manners because he thought she was a breakable wild child who couldn't control herself, and if she couldn't control herself than she sure couldn't control him and he needed control. So instead she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, opened them again, and started to talk. “You're not just upset,” she said. “You're scared. That's why you won't look at me. You won't look at me at all. You're scared and I think you're sad too. You think you can hide it if you just don't look at me, but that won't work because you always show everything you're feeling.”
Equius was a soft shade of blue now. His skin had a sheen to it. “There, you see?” Nepeta said, and let her voice be sharp. “You're sweating because you know I'm right and you like it when I tell you what you're feeling. You can't say it unless I say it first. You want me to tell you what you feel or you wouldn't ever have wanted me as your meowrail - ”
“Nepeta, please.”
“No, Equius! There's something you really, really, really want to tell me.”
Equius shuddered. Nepeta could see him move from where she sat, could see the muscles shift in his shoulders and neck and down his back. She made her voice go gentle again because she didn't really want to really hurt him. She didn't want him to feel alone in his hurt and his struggle ever ever again. She just wanted to mark her presence on him, to make him always turn to her instead of in on himself, although she knew that if she had to pry him open every time she would, she would, she always would, she'd never leave be. “You're going to tell me, aren't you, Equius?”
“Nepeta,” he said, and put his hands on his knees, pressed open, his fingers hyper-extended above his palms.
“You're going to tell me,” she said. Something rose up in her, quiet and steady and brave, almost like the way she felt when she hunted but softer, wider, more like a kind of certainty. By saying it she was making it true.
Equius bowed his head. “Yes,” he said. “Yes. Very well.”
Nepeta leapt off the bench and threw herself on him, hugging his neck and smiling so hard it hurt within the first thirty seconds. “Oh, good!” she said. “I'm so puuurred of you!” She stretched up, rubbing her nose against his.
“Don't worry,” she told him. “You can tell me anything. I'll always take care of you.”