#codependency tw

Grain's noticed Mumbo's gotten… clingier since wild life. He's always hovering around, keeps asking what he was doing while separated…

He thought it was just anxiety from the, you know, death games, but… it's starting to get worrying. Mumbo's so anxious already! He doesn't need anymore on his plate. He's gonna stay by his side until he can calm himself! They don't need to be apart long enough for mumbo to get worried. He can do everything with Mumbo!

…

The hermits are starting to get worried.

It's not a problem, necessarily. The pair of them are functioning perfectly fine whilst sticking to each other. But the co-dependence is going to be one in the future, that much is obvious.

stans act like this was super cute and romantic, and i've seen a lot of “someone's gonna get murdered by catra” or “adora is sleeping on the couch” jokes whenever adora is shown to be close to someone else.

like y'all claim that catra is traumatized and she deserves sympathy, but you make light of her codependency and obsessive behavior? not only is it obviously harmful to adora, it's also a sign of catra's trauma, the result of shadow weaver raising catra to be overly dependent on adora.

this immediately did not go to plan bc both sonic and metal were confused as shit (sonic was unconscious when everything happened and metal was deactivated temporarily to have her parts used and also her data extracted) and immediately both were extremely freaked out after realising what had happened to them. they’re both dealing with a ton of entirely new senses and information that’s extremely overwhelming, they're in a new body that’s partially someone else’s that they need intensive physical therapy to properly control, and they've got their despised counterpart stuck in each other’s thoughts forever- while metal can pretty much take control whenever she pleases bc that’s the entire point she's unable to stop hearing sonic's thoughts and vice versa.

so, like. instead of immediately getting to turn his detested enemy against the last remnants of rebellion and also bond with one of his kids he's got a really freaked out panicking version of the two of them who are in need of a lot of healing bc they went through something both extremely physically and mentally traumatic and as it turns out you do not recover from full body and brain surgery very quickly no matter how cool your new robot parts are. which like. obviously eggman is not Happy about this but he still has infinite he can kinda just. have him do his shit while that happens.

meanwhile bc they’re basically stuck together 24/7 and completely without any other proper form of emotional support sonic and metal do end up… kinda bonding? it’s very complicated. they still hate each other but they’re also codependent as hell. they resent each other for being in a situation they both find horrible but they also try and keep each other safe, not just bc they literally are stuck sharing a body and therefore the consequences effect the both of them but also they do end up sympathising with the other in some way and feeling bad for them- metal views herself as superior to sonic inherently and therefore ends up developing a kind of condescending pity towards his inferiority while sonic is like. immediately fucking aware of the fucked up abusive dynamic with her and eggman since he’s basically a forced passenger along for the ride with the whole thing and obviously even if he hates someone he does not want them to be abused.

they’re also forced to sort of work together to even like, be able to relearn how to do anything. bc like they both have extremely different bodies and they both need to help the other on stuff. metal doesn't even have the muscle memory to breathe on her own, and sonic can't control their cybernetic parts bc they feel so alien to his senses. neither of them can have full control and so they kinda have to get along to like. straight up not die. and like on a mental level too metal pushes them too hard and injures their healing body bc she’s not used to having a body that can’t just be fixed whereas sonic being himself leads to the already fucked up abusive situation he’s stuck in now to get Worse and that’s obviously not good for either of them.

i didn’t stay asleep long enough to know what happened next but I did draw them waking up!

i am looking directly at it 👀👀👀 enemies to lovers 300k slowburn

Being trapped together in a desperate situation sure does wonders on a tense dynamic, turning it into something irrevocably different

Sidekick and Villain are forced to work together to remain alive while in captivity, going to far as to sacrifice themselves for the other. Villain offers themselves up in place of Sidekick when Supervillain wants to torture one of them, and Sidekick gives Villain their portion of the minimal food they get to help Villain regain their strength. They hated each other once, but now, they’re all each other’s got

Until Hero arrives.

Hero is concerned about Sidekick’s welfare but abandons Villain, literally kicking them aside. Weak from torture, Villain can’t do much but groan in protest, but Sidekick begs Hero to save them to, to not hurt them, to let them be.

Chance always looked forward to his weekly lunches with Leera. It was something he’d set up once he’d reconnected with her, a reassurance that he still very much adored her. She was basically his mom, after all. Even if Midge had taken on the roll for a while, no one could ever take Leera’s place. 

However, he’d noticed some things in the past few weeks that had left him concerned. She would appear very tired, and either wouldn’t have much of an appetite or eat enough food for at least ten people. She’d mention feeling sick, nauseous specifically, and he began to become extremely worried. Was she alright? Had she contracted some terribly disease.

However, it was when the weird food combinations began that his worry melted into a visceral feeling of dread.

“Leera,” Chance asked, watching as she put pineapples and hot sauce over her stuffed mushrooms. “Can I ask you something?”

Leera looked up from taking a huge bite, chewing and swallowing before answering. Always a lady. “Of course, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

He wondered if she thought he just didn’t suspect. He was a doctor, a doctor trained by Midge. Someone who had had several children, three of which he’d delivered. “Are you pregnant?”

That seemed to make Leera tense, her fork stopping short of piercing another pineapple and hot sauce covered stuffed mushroom. She kept her eye focused on the table, not looking up at Chance for a moment. “What would make you think that?” Her voice quivered.

Chance sighed roughly through his nose. He felt every one of his nerves buzzing to the surface. Anxiety, a deep seeded need to protect someone he loved, fear of another living being having to go through what he did. “It’s his isn’t it?” He wasn’t sure why that question tumbled out of him. Leera was loyal to a fault.

Perhaps some part of him hoped…

Leera’s gaze snapped up to meet Chance, unable to help the slight offense she took at his question. She always found it remarkable how different Chance and Dwight’s eyes were, even though they were genetically the same. Dwight’s were icy, but not cold, like a sparkling snow cap mountain in the distance, daunting but beckoning. Chance’s were like the sky on a warm and clear day, welcoming, never hiding a single emotion the boy was feeling. It was two very different possibilities from the same biological make up. It was something Leera couldn’t help but find fascinating.

“Yes. The baby is Dwight’s,” she answered evenly. She had no intention of having a fight with Chance, it was the last thing she wanted, but she also wasn’t going to apologize for this. There were many things she felt inclined to apologize to Chance for, things she’d already apologized for profusely. But this...she wouldn’t feel guilty for it.

Nor would Chance make her feel guilty for it. She knew Leera loved Dwight, knew how deep her dedication to the man went. He also knew the bastard had been on his best behavior for the past year, even helping Addie save him from the Thropodians. He’d also rescued Agent Dib a couple times, not to mention had been taking care of his father for quite some time.

And that changed absolutely none of the animosity Chance held for his asshole of a creator.

He had every right be pissed. Every right to hate the man for as long as he lived. He’d been reassured of every turn that he owed him nothing, and by Togal if he wasn’t going to run with that.

However, this particular situation granted a special sort of action. Leera meant a lot to him. And, whether he liked it or not, she was with Dwight for the long haul. That being said, he was going to make damn sure the old man didn’t fuck this up.

0000000000000000000000000

He was surprised when no one stopped him from entering the space station. Perhaps they’d been told that the High Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance was off limits. Probably for the best on Dwight’s part. If there was one way for him to get on Addie’s bad side, it was kill one of her fiances.

Or maybe it was the large Cane Corso and cougar flanking him as he stomped down the hall.

Justice isn’t about what’s going to make us feel better. It’s about what’s right. That’s what she’d told him when she’d said she was going to put that anklet on him. It had been the hardest pill for him to swallow. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have been so damn upset. But she was right. He knew she was right, no matter how much he hated the circumstances.

Sometimes he wondered if maybe he’d found himself in the same position as Leera, blindly devoted to someone who could easily drag him down. He would always immediately slap that thought away. Addie was nothing like Dwight. He felt guilty by just the inkling of such a thought.

He finally reached Dwight’s office, not bothering to knock as he flung the doors out of his way. There was a sick sense of satisfaction at seeing the old man jump. If only it had been enough to give him a heart attack.

“Chance,” Dwight said, surprise and confusion coloring his tone. He kept the hint of worry hidden. Chance would never come to him willingly, let alone in such a boisterous manner. “What are you doing here?”

Chance glared, shoving his trembling hands into his pockets. Deep breaths. This was for Leera. He took a step forward and Persephone and Diana followed suit, the large black dog growling as she looked up at Dwight. “Easy girl,” he told her. She obeyed him, sitting primly. But her dark eyes never left the man sitting at the desk.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Chance said, taking another step forward. Diana and Persephone didn’t follow this time, but they hovered in the background, waiting.

Dwight’s eyes darted from Chance to the two animals behind him, his brow furrowing. “I had adopted the impression that you were above intimidation tactics,” he said carefully. There wasn’t any kind of snark or fear or...anything behind it. Just a statement.

Chance gave a humorless laugh. “I don’t think you’re in any position to judge whether or not I am above such tactics.” Don’t try to verbally spar your way out of this one, old man. You taught me every trick you know.

Dwight stared for a moment longer before letting out a long sigh. He was tired. Not only did he have his company to run, and have Johnny to monitor, but now he had a baby on the way. It was a lot all at once. Not to mention, he’d pretty much give Chance anything he wanted at this point. It was the least he could do. “What do you want, Chance?”

Chance balled his hands into fists, keeping them tight in his pockets. His back teeth grinded together as he tried to keep his cool. Every fiber of his being wanted to pick up the nearest object and beat Dwight to death with it. Or burst into tears. He would do neither, though. For Leera’s sake and for the sake of his pride, respectfully.

“Are you going to be there, this time?” Chance demanded, forcing his voice to remain even and strong. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re going to be there this time.” For the good and the bad. For anything they need. Tell me you’re not going to just throw another one away. He wanted to believe that Leera wouldn’t tolerate it this time, but he just didn’t know...

At the same time...even he couldn’t deny the changes Dwight had made…

And he hated that with his whole being.

Dwight was quiet for several moments, moments that felt like hours. He’d already swore from the moment Leera decided she wanted them to keep this child, to raise it properly, that he wouldn’t fuck up this time. He’d been a decent father before, hadn’t he? Couldn’t he be that again? He hadn’t been that for Chance, and no apology in the universe would be enough for what he put the boy through…

And he knew this promise wouldn’t be enough either…

But he knew what this was really about. They both did. And it was not about either of them. It was about the woman currently carrying Dwight’s child.

“I swear,” Dwight said to Chance, his gaze unwavering from the boy’s, “I will not fail this one.”

Chance dug his nails into his palms, his breathing becoming shaky. His throat felt tight, and forced himself to clear it loudly. He glowered at Dwight for his choice of words. Fucking asshole.

He was even more pissed off that he could tell that the fucker meant what he was saying, giving Chance no out to say or do anything violent or angry.

“Okay,” he said, becoming irritated when his voice cracked on the word. “I’m going to visit my dad. Don’t bother us.”

that’s the one thing tommy keeps closest to his chest about it, and he doesn’t exactly speak openly about the other parts either. but it's the happy-times, not the confusing blurry times that refuse to leave his head, he’d rather die than bring up.

the bad days are a blur- axe hits and words cutting deeper than those. tears and explosions and burying parts of himself, sometimes literally. but the in-betweens, the moments where tommy can try and blank out of context and almost smile, those stay crystal-clear, like they were etched into his brain with a knife (like the scars on his cheeks).

some part of him misses it. most of him recoils from it so hard sometimes a kind word sends the idea of him into his head and tommy’s eyes glaze over and he goes on autopilot. it’s funny, he thinks. above all else, dream ruined gentleness for him. he’d never tell him that- prime, he’d be a smug asshole about it. but he had. friendship seemed like a threat, gifts a trap, touch a warming for pain.

on most days, he and dream sat around the campfire, laughing at stupid jokes as dream would help bandage his wounds. on most days, the tnt didn’t burn. on most days, tommy would splash dream with the saltwater and pretend he didn’t mean to even if they both knew and dream would pretend he didn’t either. on most days, they would pick flowers and dream would teach tommy their meanings and tommy would teach dream of their medicinal properties. on most days, he had to pinch himself to stop himself calling dream wilbur, calling him tubbo, because dream had taught him well that was unacceptable.

tommy was a quick learner. he hated how he still felt a jolt of pride at that thought.

dream was kind, until he wasn’t. even now, he lacked malice in his eyes, had a playful lilt to his voice like this was all some stupid game. like they were still friends and this was some plot they were both in on. dream was soft velvet and harsh iron and the former had tommy wake up in a cold swear far more than the latter.