Koopalings X Reader (Discontinued)

❤️‍🩹FTM!Ludwig x FTM!Reader❤️‍🩹

   TW! Gender Dysphoria, panic attacks, slight past attempted suicide mention

   Buckle up for some angst w/ comfort sorry if ooc this is my first time writing Ludwig :]

   You thought it was going to be an ordinary rescue mission. The plan was to get your sister, Princess Peach, and leave asap.

   The fates were not in your favor at the moment.

   Now you are in a cell, only providing a bed, toilet, and sink. You have no idea how long you will be kept here, for they plan to free you if Peach turns herself in. Remembering when Luigi once took her place, you laugh quietly, holding your legs close to your chest.

   It may have only been two days in here, but you are not okay. Well, not being okay is normal in this situation, however, deciding against wearing a binder has been taking a toll on your mental health in the long run. Even just feeling the weight on your chest makes you sick. You are a boy, a man, just a guy. Why has the stars forsaken you to be born like this? You were placed in a body that's not male, with a woman's chest, hips wide to birth, and a body that bleeds out every month. You were supposed to be feminine, a ladylike figure representing your country. Before figuring out who you truly are, you were supposed to wear frilly dresses, hair elegantly styled, be Peach's little sister.

   It just reminded you of how you are supposed to be, despite being and feeling male. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to take your anger out. These thoughts have plagued your mind, simply because your shape and chest weighed you down. You felt exposed all your life, but never this much before. You were in a cell, uncomfortable and vulnerable.

   And so, the anger turned more upset. Despite all your efforts to bottle it up, the waterworks finally flood. You curl up into a ball, hands gripped to your pants, desperate for stability and to keep you in the real world. Heart wrenching cries soon follow. The silence outside of it is so loud. Your tears cloud your vision, your head throbs with pain, but you can't stop.

   You can't breath.

   As you gasp for air in between sobs, you don't notice the door being unlocked. Shortly after someone gently holds you, and against your better judgment yelling in your head (and despite not being able to move) you accept the touch.

   Thankfully you start calming down bit by bit, regaining your breath. "Can you identify five things in this room?"

   Chest. "Me." Your eyes start clearing up. "You." Despite not seeing very well, the person's dark blue hair is not hard to miss. "Bed." You see the worn-out sheets. "Wall." The grey concrete that surrounds you. "And... door." Just past the person you can see the big piece of metal.

   "Good job." Praise. That's good, right? "Now, name four things you can feel."

   No compression. "You." This person is holding you. "Bed." The hard mattress in not comfortable to sleep on at all. "Me." You can feel how wrong your body feels. "Clothes." The fancy fabric that slowly has been worn-out over the last couple of days.

   "Great, now, three things you can hear."

   The public's transphobic remarks once they think our backs are turned. "Lava, bubbling." Through the window you can hear the loud pops coming from the lava pools. "Me. My breathing." Your gasps have slowed and became quieter. "You. Breathing." Their breaths are calm.

   "Excellent. Now, two things you can smell."

   The metallic smell of blood as it dripped against the bathroom floor. "You." They smelt of old, vintage paper, hair spray (citrus?), and a perfume or cologne. "Water leak." A result of this cell not being payed much attention is the unavoidable smell of leaking water mixed with whatever they have in the walls.