Split was the first stsg fic I read back when I was still lurking in the jjk fandom. I binge-read Split and Start over the course of a sunny bank holiday weekend and I was totally immersed in the world you’ve built for three days straight.
You're responsible to no small degree for the vice grip that stsg has on my brain these days, and I don’t know if I should thank you or curse you for that! However, other people should *definitely* curse you, because you set the bar incredibly high for everyone else. Thank you for being my first and for making it such a good one!
All jokes aside, reading the fic in the garden on that sunny weekend is a genuinely special memory. Ever since then, I’ve been coming back for the updates, intending to leave a comment every time. As a writer myself, I know how meaningful it is to receive encouragement from readers, so I’m really sorry it's taken me so long. However, if nothing else, I hope this serves as a reminder that there are people out there who hold your writing very close to their hearts, even if you never know they exist. On behalf of everyone who is enjoying your work in silence, thank you for writing this wonderful series!
I've pre-written some comments and I'm gonna go and post them *right now* — promise! Hope you're doing well and that you have a great weekend ♥
omg it's taken me ages to respond to this and i'm so SORRY for that, love!!!!! responses to comments are also incredibly slow but pls know that i treasure every word you bless my little fics with and i'm sending you five million forehead kisses as thanks for the love <3
the fact that not only was split your first jjk fic but that you have such beautifully detailed memories of reading it??? warms my heart waters my crops clears my skin and makes me weep with joy - i started writing fic again for myself, but i'm so happy and touched to know that it's become something much bigger than that.
thank you, thank you, thank you - i'm sending all the love in my heart your way for this delight of an ask and your beautiful comments.
I hope you're having the best weekend, love! you deserve it <3
So yeah, here we go again, a highly slightly revised version of Splits' Chapter 1
It's set in some kinda AU where you're a saiyan and there are other saiyans alive and on earth, as if more than just Gokus parents sent them off to earth as babies to start a better life not just to destroy it. Perhaps part of the resistance against Frieza?
I'm expecting this to top out at like 10 ish chapters, if anything probably less, i don't want it to stray to far from the plot or spend another 6 months on it lmao
Warnings include: violence, emotional abuse, very dark Vegeta, sexual themes, choking but not in a good way
Word count: ~1,600
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Chapter 1
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You’re sitting in the living room, bored, surfing the channels on the TV when you hear the front door click. Your face lights up at the sound that you know means your boyfriend is home, and you run to the hallway to greet him.
“Hey 'Geta,” you say with a smile as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You know he hates it when you’re cutesy like that, but you like riling him up. Little did you know, today was not the day for it.
“Get off of me, woman.” Vegeta shoved you away from him harshly and made his way to the bathroom after taking off his shoes at the door, he didn’t even look at you as he barged his way down the hall. There was definitely something wrong, even if he didn’t like kisses he never reacted like that. Something was up, and today you were feeling especially brave so you decided to follow him down the hall and grab his tail. Bad move. He swung around in an instant pinning you by your throat to the wall.
“Don’t. Touch me.” he said with a growl in his voice before throwing you to the ground and continuing down the hall.
“'Geta that hurt, what’s the deal with you today Mr. grumpy pants?” you said in a huff as you picked yourself up from the ground, patting down your jeans. “I thought we talked about this; no aggressive wall pinning unless I ask for it.” He didn't stop or turn around to look at you. “Oh, so you're just going to ignore me then, that's great, I guess I'll just go back to watching TV since you’re being a big grump.” you waited a second longer to see if you'd get a reaction, but no, he just kept walking and eventually made his way to the bathroom, locking himself inside as you walked back to the living room.
You wondered what could've happened today to make him so irritable. When he left this morning he wasn't mad, so something must've happened while he was out training with Goku. Maybe Goku reached a new form and Vegeta was jealous? No, that's happened before and all he did was rant about how it should be him who gets to unlock new forms, not that stupid, low class, pathetic excuse of a Saiyan, Kakarot. He was the prince of all Saiyans after all, and he should be the one with all the power. No, this was something else entirely, and you were starting to worry what could have made the mighty Vegeta so angry.
Against your better judgement, you decide to go knock on the bathroom door. “Vegeta! Open up! What's the matter?” you shout through the door, hoping he can hear you over the running water of the shower.
“Go away! Go make yourself useful and cook me something, woman” of course that's all he would say. Damn these Saiyans and their insatiable appetites.
“No, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re mad.” you plant your feet outside the door as you hear the water shut off. After a moment he unlocks and opens the door with a towel around his waist. He always looked so good right after a shower, silky hair wet, tangles framing his face, water droplets glistening across his gorgeously broad Saiyan chest. He truly was a sight to behold.
“Get out of my way” he said to you as he tried to emerge from the bathroom, you were blocking his way and he really didn't like that. “Move now, or I’ll move you myself.”
“And what if I don't, what’re you going to do to me?” you said with a smirk on your lips as you stared seductively into his eyes. Usually when he was mad you could make him forget about it for a while with sex. Today was different however, and instead of pinning you to the wall and devouring your mouth with his, he gave a blow straight to your stomach, instantly knocking the wind out of you and making you crumple to the floor. He stepped over you and headed to the bedroom to get dressed.
“Food woman. Now. Don’t give me more reason to be mad at you.” he called over his shoulder as he entered the bedroom. As you were curled up on the floor, clutching your stomach and gasping for air to finally reach your lungs, you couldn’t help the thought that maybe he didn’t love you anymore from crossing your mind. A thought that threatened to bring tears to your eyes. But you were stronger than that. You stood up shakily clutching your stomach for a moment before straightening up and walking after him into the bedroom.
“What the fuck 'Geta!? What's wrong with you? Why’d you punch me in the gut like that!?” you yell at him with an anger that made the air crackle with energy. “I thought you loved me 'Geta! How could you hurt me like that? What did I ever do to you?” You hated to admit it, but you're an angry crier, and the hot tears came spilling from your eyes as your hair flickered flecks of blond. Even though you had reached Super Saiyan form yourself, Vegeta was still 100x stronger than you on a good day, let alone when he was angry.
He ignored you completely, dropping his towel and putting on a fresh pair of briefs. He acted like you weren’t even there at all actually as he picked out some clothes to wear. Taking his time to sift through his messy chest of drawers to find his favourite shirt. Black and skin tight with Shenron and the DragonBalls printed on the back, it hugged his muscles in all the right places. It was your favourite on him too and for a split second you forgot your anger and stared at how the fabric clung to his still dewy skin. It all came flooding back when he turned to face you.
“Did you not hear me? I said food. Now.” he snarled through gritted teeth. He hated it when you didn't follow his commands, but right now he wasn't your master, and it was so not sexy of him to treat you like this.
“If you want food you'll have to make it yourself. I'm not cooking for you until you tell me what's wrong.” you say back to him, with the same amount of force, trying to make your voice sound as demanding as his to no avail. No matter how hard you try, you'll never get his aggressive tone of voice down pat, you just sound like a pissed off chew toy and it makes you even angrier.
“Whatever.” He grumbles just loud enough for you to hear as he continued to search for some pants.
“Whatever?! That's all you're going to say?” you yell as you stare at him in disbelief, one more dismissive or demanding word from him and you were going to snap. “What about an apology? For shoving me, then throwing me, then straight up punching me!? Are you even listening to me, Vegeta?” You pause for a long second to see if he’ll say anything, and when he pulls up his pants and heads for the door, that's it. You power up to Super Saiyan and block the doorway, glaring at Vegeta, daring him to step closer.
“Silly woman. You think that just because you're a Super Saiyan, you can stop me? How pathetic.” he said, his voice hollow and cold as he goes Super Saiyan Blue and picks you up with one hand by the throat and holds you off the ground. “You couldn't stop me with both my hands tied behind my back,” he sneered at you before throwing you into the wall outside the bedroom door, almost knocking you unconscious as your head hit the wall at full force, leaving the plaster cracked. Your energy faded and your hair returned to its regular dark colour as your vision blurred and your ears rang from the impact.
He walked over to stand above you, laughing menacingly. “You're weak and pathetic. The only reason I kept you around was so that you'd cook and clean for me. Oh, and so that I can fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” The edges of your vision started to go dark as he picked you up against the wall by your throat again. “You are nothing but a toy for me, a sorry excuse for a Saiyan. So low class I wouldn't let you shine my shoes with your spit. But you cook good and don’t complain whenever I want to fuck, so you’re not completely useless.” he squeezed your throat tighter, “I want you to know that I don’t want you anymore. I never loved you, not one bit. I was only using you for my own satisfaction. And now that I don’t want you, there's no reason for you to keep breathing.” as he said this, he was gradually squeezing your throat tighter in his grip. You didn't understand what was going on, Vegeta had never been what you'd call affectionate, but he was never so mean. The Vegeta you love would never say such harsh things to you, or hurt you in any way what so ever unless you were fucking and asked for it. In fact, he put several higher ranking Saiyan's in the med pods because they were antagonizing you for being the weakest Super Saiyan. The sudden change in him had tears pouring from your eyes as you tried harder to keep from passing out. “Now be a good little weakling and go to sleep for me.”
“'Geta… p-please… d-don’t… hurt… m-m…” You managed to spit out between desperate gasps as you faded from consciousness.
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So whatcha think? Please leave comments and likes, I'll also be posting this over on my AO3 when i can figure that out haha
Summary: Once Upon a Time, a Bold-and-Boisterous Prince sits on a throne. A Bold-and-Boisterous Prince has a great fall. A Hallowed Heart finds him in pieces and a Studious Scholar puts the Prince back together again. Or.
A broken crown lies in an empty throne room. A Shrewd Snake and a Shy Spiderling enter the throne room. Only there isn’t just a broken crown awaiting them, there’s a broken boy. All the words and all the actions can’t put the boy back together again, but a listening ear and a comforting embrace softens the pain. Or.
If a mirror shatters into two pieces, which one is the original piece?
Warnings: Angst, Crying, Panic, Murder Mention, Death Mention, Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending Kinda?, No Unsympathetic Sides At Worst Morally Grey
Hi, anyone remember the random ficlet I posted in pieces months back that ended all happily? Well, I expanded upon it and here we are. Or in other news, here’s my take on a Split Fic, and it’s not your typical take in my humble opinion.
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A clatter echoed in the throne room. A golden crown laid cracked in two. A soft thud followed it as a red sash carelessly engulfed the crown. An exhale, long and strained. Silence. Then a sob as a prince fell to the ground, shattering.
A battered and beaten Heart came along searching for the Prince. He called out his name, searching the castle high and low. But the Prince did not answer nor did the Heart catch a glimpse of him. When the Heart entered the throne room, he kept his gaze on the empty throne. It was not until his foot caught on something that he drew his attention to the marble floor.
“Oh my!” the Heart gaped, eyes watering, “Oh dear!”
Lying at the Heart’s feet, was the fragmented remains of the once bold and boisterous Prince. The Heart touched a piece, a chill pulsing through him at its cold, ceramic touch.
Great globs of tears fell down the Heart’s face as he toppled to the floor in anguish.
He gathered the pieces close to his chest, trying to put the beloved Prince back together again. But for all the Heart’s earnest efforts, the pieces only fractured and splintered into more.
The Heart placed his head into his hands, shaking. He was not good enough to save the Prince. Worse than that, he not only failed but he had damaged the Prince further. He could feel his insides growing frayed, threatening to unravel and come unmade like the Prince himself.
But with a breath of air, he held it together. He may not have the ability to put back together the Prince, but perhaps the Scholar could.
The Scholar was smart. His idea of fun afternoon involved delving into complex, convoluted math theorems. Out of anyone in the realm of Thomas, the Heart trusted him most in solving the matter of the broken Prince.
Lifting a hand away from his face, the Heart summoned him. The Scholar arrived, completely oblivious. His eyes closed, hands tightly clasped around his bowtie. “Welcome to the Jungle, it’s so exciting--” the Scholar recited, in a spoken monotone measure.
The Heart pulled incessantly on the Scholar’s pants leg to grab his attention. This caused the Scholar to jump back, startled. His eyes flew open, trailing down at the Heart and then to the porcelain remains of the Prince.
Usually, the Scholar was never one at a loss for words. He was always the first to ask questions, to seek knowledge to better equip himself and others. But he kept staring at the scene before him, seemingly having lost the capability of speech.
Then a strange stifled noise came from the Scholar. As if there was a blockage in his lungs, a spear that punctured all the air out of them. But of course, there was no spear sticking out of his chest. No logical reason for such a noise to occur. With a face devoid of all emotion, the Scholar knelt down beside the Heart.
He picked up a piece, examining it with an analytical touch, short of licking it. Licking things was a very scientific tool. A tool he refrained from deploying at this moment.
“It’s him isn’t it?” The Scholar said at last, frowning, “But how? It does not make logical sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” The Heart piped up, “but his realm doesn’t tend to follow the rules of reality. But you can fix this, right? Undo wh–whatever this is?”
The Scholar frowned, eyeing the ceramic shards carefully.
“It is always easier to destroy than to create,” He began, “Or recreate in this instance. However, that does not mean it is improbable.”
A spark of hope ignited in Heart. So you can do it?!”
“I can try,” The Scholar amended, “There is, of course, a possibility it will not work at all.”
The Scholar placed the piece in his hand on the floor along with the rest. Then he stood up, outstretching a hand.
“You should get back.” He advised. The Heart nodded, scampering a few feet back for good measure.
Satisfied with this, the Scholar’s eyes glowed indigo as he called forth his power. Nonsensical, really, but it was how the Prince’s dominion interpreted him; a wizened wizard with a terrifying amount of power. The Scholar restored sensibility to its whimsy. He could reduce a magical unicorn to an average horse.
Something similar could be applied in this situation. He would take the shattered statue and return its original completely whole flesh-and-blood state. He just had to focus and recall every factual evidence he knew of the Prince. Chips and chunks of ceramic floated in the air, swirling as they came together again. At first the shape was ambiguous.
But as more and more pieces flew up, it became more apparent. A graceful swoop of auburn hair. A chiseled perfectly-formed jaw. A white tunic with a red sash spilling across the chest.
Bit by bit, their treasured prince was returning to them at last.
As the last piece fell into place, a bright light burst forth, filling up the entirety of the throne room. Both the Heart and the Scholar were knocked to the ground by its force. As quickly as it came, it faded.
“Ouch.” Heart murmured, still keeping a hand over his stinging eyes. The Scholar tried forcing his eyes open, but a wave of nausea hit him. He slumped back down, drained from the massive amount of energy he’d expended.
The sound of strutting boots reached both their ears, growing louder as it neared. Then it stopped.
“Helloooo?”
The Heart opened his eyes. Through his burning, black-spot riddled vision, the Prince’s befuddled face greeted him. Whole and complete with no signs of cracked lines running across his sun-kissed skin.
“Prince!” The Heart exclaimed, jumping to his feet to embrace him, “You’re okay!”
“Whoa!” The Prince said, holding out his arms for balance. He nearly collapsed regardless when a second set of arms engulfed him. Despite being adamant against physical touch, the Scholar was also…hugging him?
“Not that I don’t appreciate being lavished with displays of affection, I must ask–what in Walt Disney’s name is going on?”
“We thought we lost you!” The Heart wailed, “and that you wouldn’t ever be coming back!”
“Indeed, th-the possibility of you returning to your full stature was low.” The Scholar said, leaning heavily on the other two for support.
“Well that’s preposterous!” The Prince declared, bringing his arms around his friends, “You should know that a hero like myself could never die.”
“Pompous as always.” The Scholar snorted, but there was no true malice to it.
“Are you feeling alright?” The Heart queried.
“I’m right as rain!” The Prince said with a wide smile, “I admit, I’m very fuzzy on what happened, but I feel much better now.”
“That would make sense, seeing as we found you in actual pieces.”
The Heart sniffled, burying his head into the Prince’s tunic. “I love you two so much, you know that right?”
“Of course we know, you tell us this every day,” The Scholar responded. Neither Heart nor Scholar saw the hesitation dancing in the Prince’s eyes before it was overswept by a glimmering gleam.
“And we love you very much, Heart,” The Prince said, “Why, I’d fight a thousand dragons to keep you safe!”
The Heart giggled at this. Then wailed, leaving wet spots in the Prince’s pristine clothing. “Th--that’s lovely, but all I want is to cuddle with you and Scholar watching Disney movies and never ever ever let go!”
“That’s ridiculous,” Scholar said, “you’d have to let go at some point--”
“Scholar,” The Prince said, holding up a hand, “Not the time.”
The Prince then massaged the Heart’s scalp, carefully untangling his locks of hair. “My Dear Heart, I apologize. I didn't mean to distress you or the Scholar so. If that’s what you wish for me to do with you two for the rest of the night, I shall do that.”
“I would not be opposed to that.” The Scholar agreed, “As long as we go to bed at an appropriate time--”
“Then it’s settled!” The Prince exclaimed, “Come on, let us build the most magnificent blanket fort!”
With a snap of his fingers, the three vanished.
The throne room stood silent once more, absent of any apparent sentient life. All that remained was a dusty floor and a crown broken in two. It remained this way only just mere moments. For a Snake came slithering around, forked tongue sniffing the air. Scuttling after him came a Spiderling. All eyes and legs and not much else.
“Snake, why are we here?” The Spiderling asked, “This is the Prince’s domain! He won’t be happy if he finds us here!”
“Shush, Spiderling. Everything will be fineee.” Snake reassured, picking up the broken halves of the Prince’s golden crown. He examined them closely with a careful eye.
“Just because you say that doesn’t make it true!” Spiderling scowled, stomping a leg.
“If you’re so worried, you didn’t have to come.”
Spiderling mumbled something. The Snake raised an eyebrow, “Come again?”
“I came because I wanna protect you from getting hurt!” The Spiderling burst out, face flushing red.
“Aww, I despise you too,” The Snake cooed, ruffling Spiderling’s hair. The latter let out a shriek, hands flying to fix his hair at once.
“But you know I am totally a damsel-in-distress. Completely incapable of defending myself. Besides, surely you felt it too--the Disturbance.”
The Spiderling nodded, grimacing, “I felt Prince...he...is that his crown?!”
“Yes. Just like him to leave such a beloved possession broken and abandoned on the floor, hm?”
“Let me touch it,” The Spiderling pleaded. For he could draw the slightest hint of misery into himself with a simple touch. And with that misery, perhaps a glimpse into what tragedy befell the prince.
The Snake hesitated, before nodding his head. The Spiderling then stood up on the tippy-toes of his numerous legs, tracing one of his fingers on the remains of the crown lying in the Snake’s hands. A spark of anguish jolted the Spiderling at once.
He experienced a pounding, excruciating headache. A mind torn in two, attempting to entertain two polarizing ideas at once. Anger, sadness, frustration crashed down upon the Spiderling wave after wave. It sought to overwhelm, drive him to self-destruction like it had the young Prince.
The Spiderling cried out in pain, his hands cradling his face as he dropped to the floor. A series of metallic clangs followed and then the Snake was at his side.
“Spider!” The Snake cried, laying a cool hand on top of the Spiderling’s, “You’re okay, you’re fine, everything’s fineeeee.”
The Spiderling’s eyes glowed gold for a second, his face relaxing completely. Slowly, the gold left his eyes and he dug his face into the Snake’s satin vest with a whimper.
“I knew it, I knew I shouldn’t have allowed you to touch it,” The Snake said, stroking the other’s unruly mop of hair in a soothing manner.
“I’m okay,” The Spiderling grumbled, “Dealt with worse.”
“Lie.”
“M-maybe, but Prince, he’s--” The Spiderling hesitated, tears gathering in his eyes, “I think he’s dead!”
“I’m not!” A voice said, hauntingly cheery, “but I wish I was!”
Both Snake and Spiderling froze, each gazing at the throne room every which way. But besides themselves, there was no one else there.
The Snake’s slitted eye narrowed, “Who are you?”
“I’m the Prince!” The voice claimed, “Or at least, I was. Still am? It’s very unclear. I’m the pieces they forgot, the pieces nobody knew about! Hiding away, like an axe murderer hiding in a closet to kill you in your sleep!”
The Spiderling shuddered at the simile, both sets of arms clinging to Snake for dear life. He was very much content to allow Snake to do the talking for the two of them.
“What do you mean?” The Snake asked.
“Well, you see, I--the Prince--again, very confusing like that weird nightmare Thomas had about eating chocolate-covered teeth--had an argument with himself, ourselves? And his--my head hurt, like it was gonna explode! And so we did! Into itty bitty pieces of confetti and blood and guts!”
The Disturbance. The Snake’s blood ran cold at this. All this time the Prince was dealing with something on the levels of this, and he had no idea? How could the Snake not sense this hidden turmoil?
That was what the Snake was best at--knowing the jagged truths behind brightly-painted facades. If he’d known--he could’ve possibly helped--well, it didn’t matter now.
Out loud, the Snake simply deadpanned, “Delightful.”
“Isn’t it?!” The voice shrieked, two green eyes bulging with excitement, “Anywho, that’s when Mr. No Fun showed up and started boo-hooing. He tried to fix it, but he just made it worse! So that’s when he invited Smartypants to join the party.”
“Heart and Scholar?”
“Winner, winner, chicken-weiner!” Two hands abruptly appeared, clapping, “Now I like Smartypants, but like I said, he’s a Smartypants, thinks he knows everything there is to know and hates when we--I make things up just because!”
“I feel your pain.”
“Do you?” A several sets of needle-thin, sharp teeth jutted out.
The Snake waved a hand, “Not literally. I don’t presume to know what your pain feels like because I am not you. But I’ve had my run-ins with the Scholar and while an...useful asset to Thomas, I agree he can be difficult to deal with.”
Something green and sticky coiled around the Snake’s bottom reptilian half, entangling the end of his tail. “Ooh I like you!”
Another green-and-sticky something attached to the Spiderling, who did his very best to stay still and not freak. “And I also like you, even though you haven’t said much! What’s your favorite Disney villain?”
“M-maleficient.” The Spiderling said in a hoarse whisper.
“Ooh, sick. I like Ursula because she has two pet eels and when I--we--Thomas grows up, I think we should totally get two pet moray eels and we can feed people we don’t like to them--”
“That’s very nice and you can tell us that wonderful idea later,” The Snake cut in, “but what happened with Scholar and Heart?”
“Oh, alright,” A black boot stomped in mild irritation, “So you know Humpty Dumpty? He’s always depicted as an egg, but it never says that in the rhyme! It’s kinda like that. Smartypants tried putting him--me--us back together again but he got it all wrong!”
A translucent head appeared, shaking side to side in indignation.
“Y’see, when he put the Prince back together again, he based it off of what he remembered the Prince being. All the pieces he thinks makes who me--him--the Prince is. All. The. Pieces. That. Aren’t. ME!” The fiery flash in the green eyes was the only warning the two received before the physical glimpses dissipated completely.
“P-prince?” The Snake called out, uncharacteristically hesitant, “Are you still with us?”
“Don’t! Don’t call me that.”
“Well, what can we call you then?” The Snake amended, withholding a sigh of relief.
“Can I...can I be called the Kraken?”
“Of course, you can be called whatever you’d like.”
An ear-splitting screech sounded in the throne room, causing the Snake to slightly regret his statement. Only slightly, because it was very clearly a joyous screech.
There was a green shimmer in the air and then within a blink, a boy. A boy who looked remarkably similar to the beloved Prince, but not quite. The green tentacles attached to his back was the most glaringly obvious difference.
But there were more subtle ones. Half-healed scrapes and faded scars. Something the Prince would never allow to blemish his skin. A white strand of hair nestled among the boy’s auburn locks of hair. A black raggedy shirt and a pair of green pants that looked closer to a pirate’s garb than a prince’s attire.
“I’m the Kraken! Not a stinky loser prince!” The boy whooped and with a running start, crashed into the Snake and the Spiderling. His tentacles surrounded them and the Snake was certain it’d be hard to escape their suction-cup grip anytime soon.
He was worried that the Spiderling would panic and sink his fangs into the Kraken. Instead, the Spiderling comfortingly stroked the Kraken’s hair just like the Snake had previously done for him.
The Snake repressed a smile at this. “Kraken, what would you like to do?”
“Cry, I think.” The Kraken responded, promptly bursting into tears. The Spiderling joined him, the poor thing, soaking in the Kraken’s fear and grief.
“Shh, my dears, it’ll be alright,” The Snake promised, “Forget the others, the three of us can be our own little family. How does that sound?”
“S-sounds good,” The Kraken hiccuped, “Don’t know why I--we--him were so mean to you two, I’m--I’m s-s-s-sorry--”
“Shhh, it’s okay,” The Snake said, “don’t force yourself to talk, let it all out.”
The Kraken obliged, wailing as if the world had ended and all that remained was a trillion bits of space dust. Which, in a way, it felt that way for him. Have you ever been torn in two? Literally? It was an anguish that any amount of words regardless of language would fail to adequately capture.
It was a wound that wouldn’t, couldn’t, ever fully heal. There were some days, he wasn’t fully there, in mind or in body. Sometimes just a flash of needle-thin teeth. A warm breath behind your ears. A shadow in the corner of your eyes.
But regardless of whatever remnant of him was coherent, he had a family who loved whichever remnant that was there. And for a long, long while, things were happyish.
Prompt: Request for something fluffy and/or smutty with Dennis and Barry from the movie Split
Word Count: 1827
Warning: language, smut (18+), fluffiness
Note: This was written for @fandomstoryteller I hope I delivered, dollface! It’s not beta’d so all mistakes are mine. It also is one of the first-ish cracks at smut for me, so be gentle
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“What do you think of this?” Barry asked as he leaned over and showed you a design.
“Oh, I love the way the pant leg flows,” you commented nicely.
“How’s your dress line coming?” he wondered as he took his sketch pad back and started to work some more.
“Ugh, not so good. I’m stuck on this red one,” you answered, showing him your 50’s style dress. “I want more lace but...I think it’ll make it old. Ugh. I hate designing,” you said in frustration as you threw the pencil down on your coffee table. You had invited Barry over for designing some new outfits. You two had taken design class in the Spring and hit it right off. Now, it was eight months later and you were the best of friends and had another assignment due for your next level design class. Truth be told, you had a crush on him for a while. Probably about three months into your relationship you realized you liked him. It was shortly after that, he confessed he had DID. You didn’t know much about the disorder except that it was sometimes hard to control.
You had only met one of his other personalities and that was Dennis. Dennis wasn’t like Barry. Barry was a free, flowing, fun loving guy who was super sweet. Dennis was rigid, stiff, had OCD, and had a bit of an issue around women. He loved to see women without their tops on and sometimes became a little pushy about it. On the rare occasions were Dennis made an appearance, you worked as a personal helper to sort of calm him down when his urges became too strong. You reminded him to cool it and you eventually could get him to back off young ladies.
But his disorder didn’t define him. You liked all of him, even if you’d only met certain parts of him. And he loved that you didn’t see him as different. When you found out about his disorder, you didn’t call him names, run away, call a psych ward. You just asked him questions, tried to understand him better, and accepted him for who he was. That acceptance made him feel wonderful.
“Darling, you’re too stressed,” he said as he got up. “Here, let me.”
He came around and started to massage your shoulders.
“Oh my god, that feels so good,” you moaned.
“I’m glad. You work too hard,” he cooed as he leaned down.
“I don’t know about that,” you said. “I can’t do any of this stuff right,” you groaned.
“Oh, come now,” he said, stopping the massage to circle the couch and sit beside you. You pouted a little. “You’re just as great as anyone, don’t ever forget that, okay?”
“I’ll try to remember but it’s so hard, especially when I work with someone as talented as you,” you said, nudging against him.
“Oh, please, darling, don’t make me blush.”
“But...what if I want to?” you suddenly asked, feeling bold. You had grown tired of waiting to make a move on your friend. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. Barry stopped and stared at you. He seemed stricken. “What if I want to make you blush?” you wondered as you leaned closer to him, your face getting so close his, you could feel his breath on yours.
“Uh...then...I would say...do your worst,” he said before his hand flew to your hair and he grabbed you and kissed you. You moved your lips around his fervently, the kiss growing in heat and passion as you both moaned. He pushed you slightly back against the couch. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he said in a low voice as he started to kiss your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.
“Me too,” you breathed, taking heavy breaths.
“I think...though...You’d prefer someone else’s company,” he mentioned as he kissed your cleavage.
“What? No, I only want you,” you said, protesting as his hands trailed your sides.
“I mean...there might be someone who could do this time with you justice,” Barry informed with an eyebrow twitch.
“You mean...Dennis?”
“Sure. I could let him have the light and have his fun time with you, would you be alright with that?”
You waited, biting your lip as you thought.
“Oh, darling, if you keep biting your lip like that, he’ll come out without warning anyway,” Barry warned in a husky voice.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
“Very well.”
Barry closed his eyes and as soon as they opened, you immediately recognized Dennis.
“Hi, Dennis,” you greeted softly as you laid under him.
“Y/N,” he purred. His eyes assessed the situation and he suddenly realized what was going on. He took off his belt suddenly. “Give me your hands,” he instructed, the command causing a familiar tingle in your sex to form.
“Yes, sir,” you said, giggling.
“Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” he said firmly. You clamped your mouth down and nodded. You gave him your hands and he used his belt to tie your hands expertly to the open end of your couch, around the wooden arm rest.
He leaned down and began kissing you again, harder this time, the sensation making you get lost in it as your legs spread and he got in between them.
“That’s it, Y/N, let me in,” he purred in your ear as he kissed your neck. He started to bite lightly on your skin, leaving love marks, making you arch your back. He took the advantage and took the initiative to roll your shirt up quickly and began kissing down your cleavage to your stomach, stopping right above your skirt. “That’s much better,” he noted with appreciation. He grazed your stomach with his nose as he came back up and kissed you quickly before diving down between your legs.
Just seeing him there, the lust in his eyes, it made you quiver as he pulled at your panties and you lifted to grant him access. He pulled them off and threw them across the room as he dipped his head back down. His nose crazed over your clit, his breath hot on it, making you squirm. He lifted his hands and held your hips.
“Don’t move,” he strictly told you. You obliged, but it was hard. He continued to tease you with his breath and nose. You ached to move an inch forward and plant his face right between your legs but you knew better than to disobey. Finally, he gave you mercy and he placed his warm tongue between your slick folds, dragging his tongue slowly at first, making you want to dig yourself down on his face. After just a few agonizingly slow licks, he finally picked up the pace, darting his tongue in and out of you, the feeling like heaven. He began to pick up a pattern of dart, dart, lick. It was maddeningly good. You didn’t know which sensation you loved better. He continued that pattern until you began to grind on his face and he lightly bit your clit in response, making you moan.
“Oh, God, Dennis, more...More!” you finally screamed, not able to hold back any more. He merely laughed evilly though and continued the exact same pace.
“Please, Dennis?! Please?”
“What did I say about not talking?” he asked as he came up and unbuttoned his pants so quickly, his cock fully erect as it sprang free. “Now, I’ll have to punish you.”
He lowered himself down, placing the head of his cock at your slick entrance, throbbing so bad. You needed him in you now. You inched down as far as you could, but you were stuck.
He laughed at your misfortune.
“Ah-ah,” he chastised. “Only when I say.”
You nodded, biting your lip. He looked down to your bra and pulled your breasts free from their cups, immediately placing his mouth on one of the perky nipples, making you cry out and wriggle against him but then he stopped.
“Don’t,” he commanded and you stilled. He went back to his assault, sucking and biting at your nipple, his cock right at your entrance but not inside you. You wanted so much more from him and he was denying you….and you loved it.
“Tell me what you want,” he said between sucks.
“You,” you breathed raggedly.
“Good girl,” he said as he sucked your nipple back into his mouth, hard as he eased himself inside you slowly. You groaned so loud you were sure your neighbors would hear. He continued to stay above you, pumping in you, steady at first, nipping, sucking at your nipples, going back and forth, licking, teasing.
Then he grew tired of the slower pace and began really fucking you, his dick slamming into you, slamming your ass into the couch as you cried out a few times.
“That’s my girl,” he cooed. “Just like that. You take it so well,” he approved as he continued the rapid pace of thrusting deep and fast in you.
It didn’t take long and that tingling, heat began to pool in your stomach and legs. Between his mouth on your breasts, your skirt still being on, his size, this was all a recipe to have you cumming nearly instantly. “Dennis, please, I’m...so...close,” you moaned out, grinding down on him.
“Is that so?”
He smiled down at you and reached his hand between your legs, expertly playing with your clit as he continued to move inside you, hitting your sweet, sweet spot, and licking your nipples more.
“Ah, uh...oh...ah, fuck!” you cried out, convulsing around him as your walls clamped on his cock. He stopped on your nipples but slowly eased off your clit, making the climax ride out smoothly.
“Angh!” he shouted, only three moments later, his throbbing dick spilling cum inside you. He collapsed on you for a few moments, and once you two had cooled down, he looked at you.
“Barry?” you asked, a little confused.
“Hi, darling,” he greeted back, kissing your nose. “I told you you’d have more fun with him,” he said happily.
“Well I don't’ know about ‘more’ but it definitely was fun. Now could you untie me?” you asked, laughing.
“Ah, yes!” He laughed as he untied your hands from the belt lasso.
Once you were all cleaned up and reclothed and sat back down, Barry threw his arm around you and said, “So, I guess this means we’re dating now.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked. “Dennis is the one who rocked my world. You still have to prove yourself,” you informed with a smirk.
“Is that so?” he questioned with the raise of an eyebrow before kissing you and leaning you down. “Then let me prove myself right now,” he said seductively before getting back in between your legs, eliciting a sexy laugh from you.
HIII!!! i’m halfway through split and holy shit dude ur insane!!! i was wondering if u know when the last chapter and epi will be published?!!
hi! I am working on it a little bit each day and the doc is currently sitting at around 4K words with lots more to go 🙈 my hope is to have the last chapter up before the end of the year!
thank you so much for reading, and I apologize for the long wait - I hope it’s worth it!
Hi!! I just wanted to drop in and say thank you for sharing split with us!! It’s my absolute favorite satosugu fic. I found it a couple weeks ago, binged it in two days, and I’m already re-reading it. Their codependency, how they parent Megumi, the world building ITS MAKING ME GO INSANE 😭
Also!! I’ve been thinking a lot about what their first few months with Megumi were like. How quickly did Suguru get attached?? How did their friends react? Had they even talked about having kids before or was it more spur of the moment on Gojo’s part lol
Sorry if that’s a lot!! Domestic satosugu are just so CUTE ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you again for this masterpiece!!
AHHHHH HI NONNY, TYSM FOR READING AND LOVING!!! anytime someone tells me something I've written is their favorite I'm always more than a little blown away by it - there is SO MUCH good content out there, so to be considered a favorite by anyone is such a compliment!!
suguru was attached immediately! having children was something he'd always wanted, and they'd discussed adopting several times by that point. it was one of those love-at-first-sight things for him. it didn't matter where he came from or why he was given to them; suguru felt from the moment he first held megumi that he was supposed to be theirs.
it was still spur of the moment on gojo's part, as megumi was sort of dropped into his lap very unexpectedly. thinking about gojo randomly bringing home a baby like "hey honey look what I found!!!" makes me want to actually write it, haha
nobody was really surprised by it, but yaga and nanami both gave them a lot of flak for not being better prepared. neither of them knew the first thing about child-rearing, so Yaga essentially moved in with them for the first week to give them a crash course on parenting.
the rest, you could say, is history ;)
