#But those feelings are for the parents of the child
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I feel like Killing The Cop In Your Head is a gateway/slippery slope towards child neglect. I'm gonna look at this through the lens of younger kids, but it applies to teenagers too. Kids need structure, such as routines and norms. Our own society has rules and norms to keep us happy, like drive on the designated side of the road and wait at the stoplight. Rules in our games so you dont get cheated on unfairly and people don't get hurt.
Kids need to be told "don't do that or you will get hurt" cause they genuinely don't realize they will get hurt/hurt someone else. You can see the genuine surprise and remorse on their face when these things happen. In the same way you can get physically hurt, you can also get emotionally hurt/emotionally hurt others.
I get the above situation, mind ya damn buisness and all. In that situation, kids will be kids and they're just having fun. But if there's a sign that says "no skateboarding" what are the potential consequences they might face for skateboarding in that area? Is it just angry mall tycoon pissed that his stairs don't look perfect? Or is it more serious? Are they old enough to deal with those consequences? Are they fair? (Is letting a 12 year old make the decision to drop off a huge drop without any protective gear, and the only guidance in that decision is from his/her same age peers ethical? Hell no, they could injure themself for the rest of their life. What about legal ramifications, if a cop sees them are they gonna be dealt with inappropriately? Better you say something than cops see it. Better to let their parents know and have them go home safely than have them be brought to the station, if you believe your local cops are unethical.)
You don't have to prove your political views as more progressive than your friends for clout by not teaching your kids how to be safe and just letting them learn from consequences that are way too serious. When they don't know how to deal with a situation, lend them your brain so they can learn how to think more critically.
Tldr; Sometimes rules are a suggestion written in blood. We have a duty to look out for those who can't factor in how serious their actions are yet.
a big part of Killing The Cop In Your Head that even a lot of ostensibly progressive adults absolutely do not want to do is controlling the urge to judge children at every opportunity. like oh are some kids hanging out skateboarding in the No Skateboarding Zone at the park? it becomes your business if one runs over your foot. otherwise shut the fuck up. and not just outwardly, you need to tell the critical voice in your head "actually this harmless moment of someone else's everyday life has nothing to do with me and no one has asked for my opinion"
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Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron
Chapter Four
Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.
Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Character deaths & angst.
Author's Notes: Was gonna make chapter 4 like 5k words but I decided to put it into two separate chapters.
Masterlist: Here
The weight of Sarah and John B.’s loss still felt like an open wound, raw and fresh, no matter how many days had passed since the funeral. Some nights, you could still hear Sarah’s laughter echoing in your head, still feel the warmth of her presence, as though she were just a room away. And John B., with his reckless optimism and that undeniable spark of life that had kept everyone around him grounded, seemed like a ghost that haunted your every moment.
But the hardest part was seeing Willa—tiny and innocent, too young to understand the gravity of it all. Her parents were gone, and she didn’t even know why she cried sometimes, why her little heart was breaking, why her world was changing so fast. And yet, it was you and Rafe who had to bear the weight of their absence, both trying to figure out how to hold Willa together while you were both falling apart.
The days were long and filled with small, seemingly insignificant tasks: feeding Willa, changing diapers, trying to soothe her when she cried. But underneath all of that, it was hard not to remember Sarah’s voice calling out to you, her bright smile in the mornings, the late-night talks about everything and nothing. Those moments were gone, and you felt like part of yourself had been ripped away with them.
And then there was John B. The spontaneous adventures, the way he could make you laugh even on the worst days, the way he’d always come through when you needed him most. Those memories, too, were bittersweet now—something you cherished but also something that threatened to suffocate you.
You tried to stay strong for Willa, to focus on the here and now, but there were days when it felt impossible. There were times when you’d find yourself staring at the little girl in your arms and wondering if you were doing enough. Wondering if she would ever remember the love her parents had for her or if she would only know the sorrow of their absence.
Rafe, for his part, seemed to bury his grief deep down. He rarely spoke about Sarah or John B., and when he did, it was as if the words hurt him too much to say aloud. He was always trying to maintain control—over Willa, over the situation with Ward, over himself—but you could see it in the way his eyes flickered with pain whenever something reminded him of his sister or her fiancé.
It wasn’t just the memories of Sarah and John B. that gnawed at him; it was the guilt. The unspoken weight of knowing that his family—his toxic, emotionally abusive father—was now trying to take Willa from him, from them.
Rafe had never talked much about his dad, not even to Sarah. But in the quiet moments, when the house felt too still and too silent, you could see the rage simmering behind his eyes. Ward Cameron had done unspeakable things to Rafe and Sarah growing up, and the idea of him having any claim to Willa, of him trying to step in as her guardian, cut deeper than either of them cared to admit.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
It was late one evening when the dam finally broke. Willa was asleep, her tiny body tucked beneath the blankets, and the house was finally quiet. You and Rafe were sitting on the couch, the exhaustion of the day heavy on your shoulders. The wine bottle from a few nights ago sat untouched on the coffee table. Neither of you had much appetite for anything anymore—food, conversation, anything other than the silence that seemed to speak louder than words.
Rafe was the first to speak, his voice low and uncertain. "I hate that they're gone. I hate that I can't fix it. I hate that Willa won't ever know how good they were. How good they could have been."
His words hit you like a tidal wave, and for the first time in weeks, you saw the cracks in his tough exterior. He wasn’t the cold, distant person you’d been living with; he was just a man—broken, grieving, unsure of how to move forward.
"I hate it too," you whispered, turning to face him. "I hate that Willa will grow up never knowing how special they were. How good they were. Sarah was... everything. She made everything brighter. And John B. He had this way of making you feel like things were always gonna be okay. Even when everything was falling apart."
Rafe's eyes were distant, his gaze turned to the floor as if trying to bury the memories. "I should’ve been there more. I should’ve been a better brother. I should’ve been there for Sarah. I—I wasn’t enough. I couldn’t protect her from him." His voice cracked at the end, a rawness creeping into the words.
You could feel the pain in his voice, the regret, the anger that swirled with everything else. It was too much for him to hold, and maybe it had always been. Maybe Rafe had been carrying this weight for years, too afraid to talk about it, too scared to let anyone see him broken.
You didn’t know what to say at first. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him that he wasn’t to blame, but how could you? There were no right words, no magic phrases that could undo the past.
Instead, you simply moved closer, sitting beside him on the couch, the space between you closing.
"You didn’t fail her," you said softly. "Rafe, you didn’t fail any of us. You loved her. You loved John B. You’re still here. You’re still fighting for Willa. And that means everything."
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. But in that silence, something passed between you both. The raw honesty of the words, the shared pain, the understanding that grief didn’t need fixing—it just needed time.
Finally, Rafe turned to face you, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and something deeper, something more vulnerable. "I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be a good dad to her—how to keep it together when it feels like everything is falling apart."
You swallowed, feeling the sting of your own grief in his words. "I don’t know how to do it either," you admitted. "But we’re doing it together. We have to. For her. And for them."
Rafe’s eyes softened, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for yours. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was everything. "I’m scared, [Y/N]. I’m scared of what Ward might do. I’m scared of failing her."
You squeezed his hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "We’re not alone in this. We have each other."
And in that moment, as the weight of the past few months hung heavy in the air, you both allowed yourselves to be vulnerable. For the first time since you’d become Willa’s guardians, it wasn’t just about fighting for her—it was about acknowledging that the fight was bigger than both of you, that the grief you shared had no easy solution. And that maybe, just maybe, you could survive it together.
But even as you held on to each other, even as the weight of the past few months began to lift just a little, a new storm was brewing.
The next morning, a letter arrived from Ward Cameron’s attorney.
The legal battle for Willa had officially begun.
And this time, you weren’t sure if you could win.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The tension in the house had been building for weeks. The constant phone calls, the late-night meetings with lawyers, the nervous energy that permeated every room. It felt like a storm was brewing, and no one knew when or where it would strike.
Ward Cameron was relentless. He wasn’t going to let go of Willa without a fight. The custody battle was a war neither you nor Rafe were prepared for, and with each passing day, it became more and more clear that Ward had no interest in doing what was best for Willa. He was driven by control, by pride, and by a need to take back what he saw as his.
You could feel the weight of it all pressing down on you as you prepared for the court hearing. It wasn’t just a matter of legal paperwork anymore; it was about Willa’s future. About whether or not she would be able to stay with the people who loved her most—or whether she would be taken away by the very man who had terrorized Rafe and Sarah their entire lives.
The morning of the hearing arrived, and as you walked into the courthouse, a cold shiver ran down your spine. Ward was there, sitting smugly at his lawyer’s side, his presence already like a shadow over the room. You glanced at Rafe, who looked tense but composed. He hadn’t spoken much in the last few days, but you could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface.
“We’re gonna win this,” you whispered, more to reassure yourself than him.
Rafe didn’t respond. His jaw was clenched, his eyes fixed on the door as though he was bracing for what was to come.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
It happened before the hearing even began.
Ward spotted Rafe as he entered the building, and in an instant, the calm atmosphere of the courthouse was shattered.
“Rafe,” Ward’s voice was like acid, dripping with disdain. “Still playing pretend, are we? Acting like you’re fit to raise her?” His gaze flickered to you, then back to Rafe. “You’re nothing. You always were. Just like your mother. You’re not good enough for her.”
You could see Rafe’s fists clenching at his sides, his entire body rigid with tension. He was trying to keep it together, trying to stay calm, but you knew Ward’s words were cutting through him like knives.
“Don’t talk about her,” Rafe spat through gritted teeth, his voice dangerously low.
Ward smirked, then took a step closer. “Or what? You gonna threaten me, Rafe? You gonna get violent like you always do?”
Before anyone could react, Ward’s hand shot out, slapping Rafe across the face with a sickening crack. The sound of the slap echoed through the hallway, sending a chill down your spine.
Rafe stumbled back, his hand instinctively reaching for his cheek where the bruise was already beginning to form. You could see the pain in his eyes, but the rage was sharper—cutting through him like a blade.
“Ward, you don’t get to touch him,” you snapped, stepping forward, but Rafe raised a hand to stop you.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice tight with anger. But you could see the bruise already swelling, darkening the side of his face.
Ward laughed coldly, his eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction. “This is the man you’re trusting with her?” He gestured toward Rafe, a mocking sneer on his lips. “Pathetic. This is all a joke to you, isn’t it?”
Before you could say anything else, security had already stepped in, and Ward was ushered away by his lawyer. Rafe stood there, silent, his face hard as stone.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, turning on his heel and heading toward the courtroom.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The courtroom was packed, tension thick in the air. The judge, a woman with a stern expression, motioned for everyone to sit down, but you could still feel the heaviness of the moment.
Rafe sat beside you, his posture stiff, his hand gripping the armrest of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white. You could see the bruise on his cheek, the darkening mark a stark reminder of the physical and emotional battle he was facing.
Ward sat across the room, his face set in a smug grin. He didn’t look at Rafe. He didn’t need to. He was confident he had already won.
As the hearing began, the tension grew. Both sides presented their arguments—Ward with his usual smugness, his words dripping with false sincerity, and you and Rafe, doing your best to argue that Willa belonged with the people who had been raising her, the people who loved her.
But as the court session continued, it became clear that Ward wasn’t playing fair. His lawyer had found every loophole, every flaw in your case, and used it against you. And with the bruise on Rafe’s face, there was no way around the implications it carried. The scene in the hallway, though quickly dealt with, was impossible to ignore.
Rafe’s history, his past with Ward—everything was being dragged out into the open, and no matter how hard Rafe tried to stay composed, no matter how much you fought back, the weight of their father’s influence was undeniable.
You watched, helpless, as the case swung in Ward’s favor. Every argument Rafe made, every truth he tried to speak, was countered with a lie, with an accusation. And in the end, it wasn’t about what was best for Willa. It was about who had the power, who had the money, who could manipulate the system.
And in that moment, it was clear who was winning.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The judge finally spoke, her voice cold and impartial. “Based on the evidence presented, and in consideration of the child’s well-being, I am ruling in favor of Mr. Ward Cameron for the temporary custody of Willa Routledge.”
The words were like a slap in the face. Your heart stopped, the world spinning in slow motion as you processed the finality of her decision. Rafe’s face fell, his entire body going rigid beside you. His hand, which had been gripping the armrest, was now shaking.
Willa was going to Ward. And there was nothing either of you could do about it.
“What?” Rafe’s voice was barely a whisper, but it held so much anger, so much disbelief, that it made your chest ache.
The judge didn’t respond, and Ward’s smirk only deepened, satisfaction radiating from every inch of him.
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t believe it.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Rafe stood up, the pain in his eyes more evident than ever before. He didn’t speak, didn’t argue. He just left. He stormed out of the courtroom, his movements sharp, angry, broken.
You stayed behind, your own heart sinking, as Ward’s lawyer turned to you with a cold, dismissive smile.
“This isn’t over,” you whispered to yourself, but deep down, you knew it was. The battle for Willa had just taken an unimaginable turn. And you couldn’t help but wonder if you and Rafe would ever recover from the blow.
© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx#obx x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron request#rafe cameron season 4#drew starkey fanfiction#lifeasweknowit
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i had a fluffy req idea if ur still taking them -
different hsr boys {main ones being aven and sunday love them sm} after your baby says their first words 🥹 (more of an ask if reqs are too full !!)
hehehe to make up for my more angsty reqs
(also, if it’s not taken, i’d love to be {🪷🤍} anon :>)
First Words
Tags: Aventurine, Sunday, Boothill, Gepard Landau, Fatherhood, Emotional Moments, Parenthood, First Words, Love, Vulnerability, Protective Fathers, Tender Moments.
Warnings: Emotional Intensity, Sensitive Themes (parental attachment, soft vulnerability)
A/N: THE WAY I SCREAMED?! OMGGG 😭💖‼️ I WAS MUFFLING MY SCREAM WHILE WRITING THIS!! BOOTHILL DESERVED TO BE IN THIS!! And, of course, you can be 🪷🤍 anon!!
Aventurine sat at the edge of the bed, his usually calculating eyes softening as he watched his baby cooing in their crib. The soft moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow on the room. He had been a master of strategy, a man who thrived on risks and uncertainty, yet nothing in his life had prepared him for the overwhelming joy of fatherhood.
The baby gurgled, the first words bubbling up from their tiny mouth in a way that made Aventurine's heart stutter in his chest.
"Dada..."
His breath hitched. It was a single word, but it held so much meaning. He had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity, never quite knowing how much it would shake him to hear. His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, one that only those who knew him best would ever witness.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered, though the baby was already asleep. He could have sworn the world had momentarily stopped just to let him bask in the miracle of this sound. There was no strategic calculation, no manipulation of circumstances; just pure, unrefined love. The thought that his baby had chosen him, of all people, to be the first to say such a word filled him with a warmth he didn’t often show.
Aventurine carefully reached over and placed a hand on the crib, gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand. He felt the overwhelming desire to protect them, to ensure that they would never have to face the brutal world he had lived in.
"You're mine now, little one. I’ll make sure the world plays by your rules." he whispered softly, his voice laced with love.
He leaned back, taking a deep breath, feeling the weight of this moment settle into his bones. Aventurine, the master of manipulation, was nothing more than a father in this room—vulnerable, unguarded, and completely enchanted by the simple sound of "Dada."
Sunday had never been one to show much emotion outwardly, his calm and composed demeanor always masking the storm of thoughts beneath. But now, as he sat on the edge of the bed, his golden eyes locked on his baby, his chest tightened in a way that he couldn't explain. He was a man of ideals, of lofty dreams for the world, yet nothing could have prepared him for the heart-stirring moment of hearing his child speak.
"Papa..."
The single word was so simple, yet it rang in Sunday’s ears with the clarity of a thousand bells. He felt as though the weight of all the dreams and hopes he had for a perfect world, a place where his loved ones would never have to suffer, had finally taken shape in that single word.
For a moment, Sunday simply stared, stunned by the beauty of it. His hand, once firm and decisive in leadership, trembled ever so slightly as he reached toward his baby. His heart, so used to thinking in ideals and concepts of the greater good, now beat with a singular, overwhelming sense of purpose.
"You... said 'Papa.'" Sunday whispered, his voice almost breaking. His normally steady hands shook as he cradled the baby, feeling their warmth against him. For a man so convinced of the need for a perfect dream, this moment of imperfection—a baby’s first word—was more than enough to fulfill him. The world of dreams he had always sought to create felt tangible now, as though it had been born in that one precious sound.
As he gazed down at his baby, Sunday felt an unfamiliar surge of protectiveness. The weight of leadership and responsibility melted away, and he realized that no matter what happened, this little one would be his reason to keep fighting, to keep dreaming, to keep striving for a world that would never harm them.
"Papa..." he whispered again, feeling the word vibrate through him. The world he wanted to build suddenly felt like it could be real, because of this one small voice that would grow with love, light, and perhaps even a bit of the dreams he held.
Sunday smiled, a rare and genuine smile, as he looked down at his child. "You have no idea how much you mean to me, little one. I will always protect you."
Boothill had always been a man driven by rage, a cyborg cowboy with a heart hardened by years of loss and revenge. But now, as he stood in the quiet of his cabin, looking down at the baby in his arms, something had shifted. Something he couldn't explain.
His baby, wrapped in a soft blanket, gazed up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Boothill’s usual sharp gaze softened as he cradled the tiny form in his arms, his mechanical hand careful not to hurt them. The sound of the baby babbling was almost too much for him to process.
Then, it happened.
"Pa-pa!"
The world seemed to pause. His metallic fingers tightened slightly, but not out of anger—out of something new. Something tender.
Boothill froze, his heart skipping a beat. The world had once taken everything from him—his family, his home, everything he held dear. But here, now, was something that felt like a new beginning. The word “Pa-pa” rang in his ears, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He had never imagined such a moment, never thought it would come in the wake of all the destruction and vengeance he had pursued.
"You said it..." Boothill muttered, his voice rough. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, were now misted over with something softer. For the first time in years, he felt something akin to peace.
His gaze flicked from the baby to the window, where the stars twinkled above, endless and quiet. He had fought for so long, but maybe, just maybe, this little one was what he needed to remind him of the life he had almost forgotten.
"Pa-pa!" the baby cooed again, and Boothill let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
"Yeah," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I’m here, little one. I’ll be here."
It was a vow, but it wasn’t one made from the fury of his past. This vow was different. This one was made for a future, for a family he was determined to protect.
Gepard stood in the nursery, his large frame leaning against the doorframe as he watched his baby sleep in the crib. The weight of his position as Captain of the Silvermane Guards was always with him, but now, in this quiet moment, it seemed almost insignificant compared to the tiny life he had brought into the world.
His eyes softened as the baby stirred slightly, their small hands reaching out as if sensing him in the room. It was then that the baby spoke—barely a whisper, but enough to make his heart stop for a brief moment.
"Buba!"
The word echoed in his mind, and a small, stunned smile spread across Gepard's face. His hand instinctively reached toward the crib, resting on the edge as he leaned down, his heart overflowing with emotion. It was as if the weight of all his responsibilities had suddenly been lifted, replaced by this singular, precious connection.
"Buba!" the baby said again, their voice soft but filled with trust.
Gepard’s breath caught. He had spent so much of his life focused on the welfare of others, on the grand ideals of justice and protection, but now, as he looked at this tiny soul, he realized that this was where his true duty lay. He would protect them at all costs, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
"Yes, my little one," Gepard murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Buba’s here. Always."
He carefully scooped the baby into his arms, cradling them close. For the first time in a long while, Gepard felt something other than the weight of duty—he felt love, deep and unyielding. And as he rocked the baby gently in his arms, he knew he would fight for them, not as a captain or a warrior, but as a father.
I'm gonna be sick because of this 🥺😕💖😭
#x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#sunday#sunday hsr#honkai starrail#hsr sunday#sunday sunday sunday#sunday x reader#boothill honkai star rail#boothill#hsr boothil#boothill x reader#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#gepard landau#hsr gepard#gepard x reader#honkai star rail gepard#fatherhood#parenthood#love#emotional moment#first words
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I love all of the isha, jinx, reader and sev found family so much.
Was wondering about a reader who had a shaky relationship with their family. A couple of ideas. Maybe they are so worried about hurting isha, or they don't really know much about parenting and family. Maybe they are just hesitant. Or they don't talk too much either, but connect with isha.
I have no clue, would love anything, love your writing so much!! Totally fine if not I hope you have an awesome day either way :))
- 🌱
eeeee gonna combine this!!
thinking abt jinx isha and sev snuggling up to reader when she’s sad :(
men and minors dni
there are days, for both you and sevika, where the abundance of love from your new found family overwhelm you.
neither of you had the best childhoods. neither of you are close with your families now. and sometimes realizing that this is what a family is supposed to feel like kinda paralyzes you.
it's a horrible combination of grief and horror for your younger self, and for jinx and isha before they had you, and a gratefulness that you've managed to escape the cycles of abuse that have haunted your bloodlines.
it happens to sevika most often. jinx will spill a glass at dinner and you'll all calmly clean it up, giggling and teasing jinx for her butterfingers-- and sevika will get choked up with how easy it is. how little yelling, bleeding and crying had to occur for the problem to be solved.
she usually has to take a minute to herself, sometimes dragging you with her to the bedroom to bury her face against your neck and breathe in your scent as she calms down.
but after a few minutes, it washes over her, and she's back to her normal self.
it's different for you. it isn't little moments that trigger it, it just creeps up out of nowhere. you'll wake up one morning with the weight of the world pinning you to the bed, and you just won't be able to get up.
today's one of those days.
you don't know why it's happening now, but it's happening. how could you face a world that would treat a child so horribly that she can't talk? a world where doctors will fuse teenage girls' blood with shimmer, permanently altering her senses and instincts? a world where 'peacemakers' flood the streets with toxic gas?
you can't. at least not today.
"baby, it's almost eleven." sevika whispers, gently pulling the blankets away from your body. "'re you sick?" she asks, feeling your forehead tenderly.
her touch makes you weepy. you take a shaky breath. "i just--" you cut yourself off with a squeaky sob. sevika's face falls, and she quickly scrambles to join you in bed, scooping you into her arms. "i just can't do it today, sev." you say, falling apart against her chest.
sevika lets you cling to her, gently stroking your back and kissing your head as you cry against her. "that's alright, love." she whispers. "i'll do it all for you today."
this only makes you cry harder.
"sevika, where'd you go?! we're about to race rainbow road, c'mon i wanna watch isha kick your ass aga-- oh, shit." jinx cuts herself off, her eyes wide as she blinks at the pair of you. "y-you alright, sweetcheeks?" she asks, a worried little frown on her lips.
before you can answer, little footsteps come thumping toward your room. hurry up, big mama! isha signs as she comes sprinting in the room. her eyes get wide and worried, and she tugs jinx's hand pointing at you with concern. ms. baby, what's wrong? isha asks.
"she's just... having a rough day, kids." sevika explains, rubbing your back for you. a few tears leak out of your eyes at her gentle voice and her careful words. "y'know those days where you just need to be sad?"
jinx seems to understand, her eyes softening in sympathy and one of her arms reaching out to start playing with isha's hair. "yeah, i've had a few of those." she chuckles wryly. "just gotta cry in bed until tomorrow." jinx shrugs. "sorry, sweetcheeks."
you smile weakly at jinx. "'s alright. i'll be up and at 'em again soon."
isha's still worried, though. ms. baby, do you need a kiss? she signs.
you burst into a fresh round of tears, and jinx chuckles, just a little. "t-that would be great, isha." you sob. isha scrambles into bed beside you and sevika, carefully holding your face between her tiny hands as she kisses your forehead. it's surprising just how much her little kiss makes you feel better. you chuckle a little. "thanks kiddo."
"do you wanna come lay on the couch? watch us play mario? you can still cry and sleep, but at least we'll be there to keep you company." sevika offers.
you smile, then frown. "that sounds amazing, baby, but i don't think i have the energy to get out of bed." you admit. sevika scoffs and gets out of bed. your heart sinks, and you choke on a sob. "i-i know it's pathetic, 'm sor--"
"baby, shut the fuck up." sevika says, ripping the blankets off of you. you gasp and shiver, and sevika leans down and easily hauls you up into her arms. you gasp and squeal, and jinx and isha burst into laughter and screams. "jinx, will you grab a few pillows for her?" sevika asks as she starts carrying you into the living room. jinx trails behind you, your pillows and a blanket in her arms.
isha disappears into her bedroom, only to return as sevika's settling you down on the couch, placing her favorite bunny plushy in your arms. bunny will make you feel better. she signs. you start to cry again, nodding and thanking her shakily, cradling the stuffy to your chest.
isha and jinx settle down on the floor in front of the couch, and sevika covers you up with blankets before pulling your legs into her lap and sitting beside you. "you gonna be able to sleep with us screaming at each other?" she asks, grabbing her controller. you chuckle and nod.
"no different from any other nap i take." you tease. sevika grins and you sigh happily, your heart throbbing with appreciation and love.
you fall asleep after sevika falls off the track for the third time. when you wake back up, isha and jinx have piled on top of you and sevika, all three of them snoring as they enjoy an afternoon nap.
despite the heaviness in your chest and your tired eyes trying to drag you back to sleep, you take a moment to remember the moment before you close your eyes--knowing that despite all the horrible associations you've had with family in your past; from now on this is what family will be.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
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@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan
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From the moment I was coherent, I knew my family was different. Off, somehow, not normal. It was something in the way my parents looked at me when they thought I was distracted, the way they treated me like I didn't belong. Like I was an inconvenience.
My brother and sisters? So, so spoiled. Between mom's modeling and dad's business stuff, there was MONEY, and my siblings had it lavished on them. Toys, designer clothes - whatever they wanted. They were hugged, cosseted, taken on trips, given actual attention! They had a fabulous childhood.
Not like mine.
There was this undercurrent of resentment towards me that I never understood. I never had birthday parties, the folks were always "too busy", tossing some money my way so I could get a present. It never mattered what my grades were, I handed over the report cards to get signed and that was it. Unlike my siblings - they got pizza parties for not failing classes! but my damn near perfect marks were shrugged off. It was a lonely, confusing life, especially for a little kid.
My solace was in books. (Yep, I nerd.) If it was in print, I'd read it. That empty feeling inside me was soothed when I filled myself with words, stories, information, music. Yes, I taught myself how to read music, too, and how to build and play instruments. The early ones were crap, but I got better at it.
Anyways. I read everything, which led me to the 'occult/spiritual' section of the library and book stores. Right next to the fairy tales and legends, of course, so I read those too because why the heck not? It was ... it was educational. Upsetting. I wandered around the house and saw all the cold iron and silver on every window, every door. The weird herbs growing at every entrance. Keep in mind that I was TEN. Ten years old, trying to understand what was going on with my life, and suddenly figuring out that my parents were keeping something out. Of course, the next thing I did was check my clothes and, surprise surprise, everything had odd things sewn into the hems. Not only was something kept out, I was warded against being Taken.
So, I did what any angsty pre-adolescent would do, and plotted. Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was going on. For the first time in my life, being ignored worked in my favor. Using the books and stories as a guide, I bought things, ingredients and materials, and worked quietly. Waiting for the night of the full moon.
I was as thorough as only an angry child could be. Opened doors, front and back. Walked around the house widdershins, sweeping away the protective ring of salt and runes. Did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I took a bath and washed myself with a bar of Ivory soap, getting rid of even the smallest trace of binding or charm. Since I didn't trust any of my clothes, or any in the house really, it made sense for me to go naked. To be sure.
The results were impressive. Also terrifying. Two powerful, ancient beings stormed into the house and dragged my parents out of bed, starting a three-way screaming match about contracts, oaths, stuff I didn't understand.
That was when I learned why I was conceived. It hurt, honestly. Learning that I was just a bargaining chip, chattel to be bartered or sold, broke my heart. They kept me warded to avoid issues, they said. They didn't know which being had the first claim on me, and neither one wanted to give up the wealth and beauty they bought with my life.
I was ten years old, and heartbroken, and oh so angry, and I interrupted with a suggestion. The witch and the faerie exchanged a look, before turning to my parents with the same smile on both their faces, one with extra teeth and mischief.
To this day, I have no idea what happened to them. I've lived with my dads for ten years now. Not full time anymore, university is a beeyotch and I live off campus, but every break, I go home.
My family is still kinda off, and different, but my dads love me. They're proud of me, they encourage me to be awesome, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. They keep saying that they have to make up for lost time, but knowing they were trying to find me, knowing they never gave up hope - well. They wanted a child to love, and i needed parents to love me. It all worked out in the end.
Your mother sold her firstborn to a witch in exchange for beauty and your father sold his firstborn to a fairy for wealth. Today you are born.
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Found family
sevika x gn!reader
short drabble.
synopsis. After a fight that resulted in casualties, a child was left alone. Parentless. Seeing yourself in the poor kid you decided to take them in. Sevika however isn’t very keen at first.
a/n. this is mainly for my self and others affected by the happenings of act 2.
Bodies littered the dimly lit streets of Zaun, the metallic tang of blood and gunpowder thick in the air. It was the aftermath of a fight. You navigated the wreckage, searching for survivors, for anyone who might need help. That’s when you heard it, a the muffled sound of sobbing. You followed the sound to a crumbling alley, and there she was. A small girl, no older than seven, sat curled against the wall, her face streaked with dirt and tears. She hugged a stuffed toy. It was a rabbit with a missing ear. She hugged it so tightly, looking like she might crush it.
“Hey there,” you said gently, crouching down to her level. Her wide, tear-filled eyes met yours, full of fear and confusion.
“Where are your parents?” you asked softly.
She shook her head, her lip trembling. “Dead,” she whispered.
Your chest tightened. You didn’t need to hear more. You’d seen it too many times. Lives ripped apart by the chaos of Zaun’s underbelly, families destroyed in an instant. You glanced over your shoulder, spotting Sevika a few feet away. She was standing guard, her massive frame silhouetted against the flickering streetlights. Her mechanical arm glinted in the dim light, a stark reminder of the battles she’d fought and the damage she’d endured.
“Sevika,” you called, turning back to the girl.
She approached, her footsteps heavy, her expression unreadable. “What?”
You straightened, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We’re taking her with us.”
Sevika’s brow furrowed, and she crossed her arms. “What? No. That’s not—”
“Look at her,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “She has no one.”
“That’s not our problem,” Sevika said, her tone harsh but not entirely unkind.
“It is now,” you replied, meeting her gaze.
Sevika sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. She knew better than to argue when you got like this. “Fine. But this will fall on you.”
The girl, who introduced herself as Lyla, stayed quiet as you brought her home. She clung to you like a lifeline, her small hand gripping yours tightly. Sevika kept her distance, her usual gruff demeanor masking whatever she was feeling.
At first, Sevika was… less than enthusiastic about the little girl’s presence. She grumbled about the added responsibility, about how Zaun was no place for a child. But you noticed the way she softened when lyla looked at her with those big, hopeful eyes.
One night, you found them in the living room. Sevika was sitting on the couch, her mechanical arm resting on the armrest, while lyla sat on the floor, surrounded by scraps of paper and crayons. She was drawing something. A crude but recognizable version of Sevika, complete with her glowing arm.
“That’s you,” Lyla said, holding up the drawing proudly.
Sevika raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Yeah? Looks pretty badass.”
Lyla giggled, and for the first time, you saw Sevika’s tough exterior crack.
It wasn’t long before Sevika started stepping into the role of protector. She walked Lyla to and from the school you’d set up with some other locals. She taught her how to throw a punch, how to defend herself in case she ever needed to.
“Again,” Sevika said one afternoon, her voice firm but patient.
Lyla wiped the sweat from her brow and squared her stance, throwing another punch at the training pad Sevika held.
“Better,” Sevika said with a nod. “Keep your guard up.”
You watched from the doorway, a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re turning her into a little fighter,” you teased.
Sevika glanced at you, her expression softening. “Someone has to teach her how to survive this shithole.”
“Well someone has to teach her how to live,” you countered gently, stepping into the room.
Sevika smirked. “That’s your department.”
The turning point came when Lyla got into trouble. You were out running errands when the commotion started. A group of men, big, mean, and clearly looking for a fight, had cornered lyla in an alley. You heard the shouting before you saw them.
“You’ve got guts, kid, messing with Smeech’s men,” one of them sneered.
Lyla, to her credit, didn’t back down. She stood her ground, her fists clenched. “Leave me alone!”
Before you could intervene, a familiar figure stepped into the alley. Sevika. Her presence was enough to make the men hesitate. She towered over them, her mechanical arm sparking ominously.
“You’ve got five seconds to walk away,” Sevika said, her voice low and dangerous.
One of the men laughed nervously. “Or what?”
Sevika didn’t bother answering. She lunged forward, her mechanical fist colliding with the man’s jaw and sending him sprawling. The others didn’t stick around to find out what else she was capable of. When the alley was clear, Sevika turned to Lyla, her expression a mix of anger and concern.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded.
Lyla looked down at her feet, her defiance fading. “I just… they were being mean to that old lady. I had to do something.”
Sevika sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one day, kid.”
“Sorry,” Lyla mumbled.
Sevika crouched down, placing a hand on Lyla’s shoulder. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, alright? You’ve got people who care about you now.”
Lyla nodded, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability in Sevika’s eyes. The fear of losing someone she’d come to care about. That night, as the three of you sat around the dinner table, the tension from earlier had melted away. Lyla recounted the day’s events with an exaggerated flair, her hands gesturing wildly as she described Sevika’s rescue.
“And then she punched him so hard he flew across the alley!” Lyla said, her eyes wide with admiration.
Sevika chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re gonna make me sound like a hero.”
“You are,” Lyla said simply, her voice full of sincerity.
You reached over, placing a hand on Sevika’s. “She’s not wrong.”
Sevika glanced at you, her usual smirk replaced by a soft, genuine smile. “Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me,” she said, squeezing your hand.
You smiled back, warmth spreading through your chest. Knowing that Sevika would protect Lyla with everything she had. Even though she initially didn’t even care about the kid. It was a nice feeling to see and feel. The hard headed and stubborn tall woman becoming all soft and gentle for a kid who she barely knew.
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#sevika fics ⟠ ࣪ .#sevika x you#sevika headcanon#sevika x reader#sevika arcane#arcane sevika#sevika#arcane fluff#arcane fanfic#arcane masterlist#arcane fic#arcane x reader#arcane imagine#arcane characters#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x gender neutral reader#arcane fandom#sevika fanfic#sevika fluff#reader insert
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Anni i only knew you from youtube and the i searched up epic r34 to see if anyone was fucked up enough to post anything and i saw your art and i thought wow thats a really good emulation of their artstyle and then I DIGGED A BIT AND IT WAS YOU. YOU CREATED A MANWHORE AU. I FEEL LIKE A CHILD FINDING OUT ABOUT THEIR ESTRANGED PARENTS DEEDS SINCE YOUR DESIGNS ARE THE ONLY CANON IN MY HEAD EVER SINCE I SAW YOYR GOD GAMES ANIMATIC WHAT THE HELL 😭😭😭😭😭
The biggest question is... why were you on r34? 🤨📸
ALSO, I DIDN'T POST THOSE PICS IN THERE! I DIDN'T ASK FOR MY STUFF TO BE THERE!
Also, sorry for traumatizing you.
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anyways. cliff notes version of my "connecting leslie's story in war games to the evils of child soldiers & utter hatred of batman/bruce as the root of the problem and violence in gotham" doesn't understand her
i mean everyone knows the obvious of. leslie would never intentionally cause harm to prove a point, but that is the big one, yes
but even within that. i do think the point of the big one is that you need to understand that leslie is an absolute dogmatic nonviolent pacifist and would absolutely disagree with the use of any sort of violence to teach someone their violence is bad. retribution and personal revenge is off the table for her & is to be condemned in others.
leslie fundamentally disagrees with *all* of their choices to be vigilantes & use of violence to solve problems, not just bruce, but even the kids. she doesn't necessarily see them as hapless victims to bruce's ultimate will of violence. she wants them all to choose the better, nonviolent path & wants to teach any vigilante the option of nonviolence is there. she would hold bruce responsible for his choice of violence yes, but she would also hold them all responsible for their participation. she also has never shown a significant issue with children being vigilantes--she's might not love it, but she's been fine enough with working with several children as robin with little qualm about their age--her argument isn't that children in particular shouldn't be vigilantes or that children are in special danger here, it's that nobody should be vigilantes and problems should always be solved nonviolently.
which is my next point--there is absolutely cruelty within leslie's pacifism for those who can't meet her standard of nonviolence. she does think cruel things about bruce for his choice to be batman. she would absolutely think cruel things about all of them in her attempt to push them to be better. this doesn't means she hates them personally however
this is because a lot of the cruelty comes from leslie's loving disappointment in those she cares about. she is essentially bruce's mom after his parents die--her anger at him is not borne out of hate for what he chooses to do, but love & disappointment in her feeling he should be choosing a better way (her way) and does not. she dislikes his choices, but never him--she loves him. and she's always trying to save him. the point is never to punish those who haven't yet learned, it's to continue to try and teach them better. she might be frustrated and be angry at batman and the choice to be batman, but she cannot hate bruce. the point is that one day maybe bruce will finally learn that he can choose to be everything she knows he can be.
leslie & steph should frankly get along like oil & water because leslie would absolutely be judgmental of steph even in her desire to save and care for steph, just as she is judgmental of bruce even as she loves him. she would be kind, yes, but leslie's commitment to nonviolent resolution no matter the circumstance would absolutely clash with steph's feelings that personal retribution is justified under certain circumstances would absolutely clash & neither would be willing to budge. like. batman chronicles #18 where leslie does everything in her power to save zsasz at all costs vs detective comics #796 where steph went in for the kill on zsasz to protect herself and batman and questioned why not kill him. think about it.
anyways war games boiling her pacifism down into "batman commits violence and gets kids hurt ergo he's bad & i think he should be punished" completely loses the nuance that is that leslie loves despite her disagreement! the power of her is that no matter how angry and disappointed she might get in someone she is still dogmatically committed to saving them. she objects to the violence criminals commit and would still go out of her way to save them despite what they might go on to do. she saved zsasz. she would save the joker if he were dying in from of her. her devotion to her ideals is commendable, but can also be a flaw that hurts those she loves due to her strict adherence. batman is a part of the problem. batman deserves to be saved, just as all others who commit violence do.
#the thing is that leslie will always love her flawed violent family#which is why she will always try to save them
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My resistance to this framing is that people tend to use these cases as examples of a state doing bigotry ‘poorly’ - that the state, in its efforts to oppress and eliminate trans people, has become unwieldy, and as a result it lashes out at “the wrong people,” that it has become irrational and overcome with hatred. This framing positions the state’s discriminatory practices as coming from a place of brute passion, as outside its normal functionings. When in reality this is not a glitch in the system, or an unintended outcome, or the articulation of hatred gone too far; it is the logical expression of cissexualism. This couple’s child is being harmed by cissexualism, not transphobia. This may seem pedantic, but it is the same distinction made between patriarchy and misogyny. Patriarchy harms everyone, but it would be incoherent to say that everyone is targeted or harmed by misogyny. Transphobia is the output of cissexualism, much the same way misogyny is the output of patriarchy.
So the point I’m trying to make is that instead of arguing that the state is overextending its transphobia to those who shouldn’t be affected by it, I think a more productive analysis is that it is becoming more militant in its cissexualism, and because cisgender people are constructed as (and benefit from being) cis under this system, they will feel the effects of this militancy in various (sometimes deleterious) ways.
And of course, this couple is still obviously benefiting massively from cissexualism - as someone else pointed out in the notes, this case is only in the national press because their child is (presumed) cis. If their child was transgender and they complained about being unable to re-issue her birth certificate, they would either be ignored or called pedophiles and child abusers. The parents appeal to biological authority as a reason for this type of discrimination being wrong - of course our daughter is biologically female, of course this is a real injustice. So they are being harmed, but this harm is only made public and sympathetic because they are cisgender. This is not poorly configured transphobia, this is cissexualism functioning as intended, and any appeals to its authority as a reason to be exempt from its violence is support for cissexualism
A newborn baby girl will have to go through life with the wrong sex on her birth certificate after a registrar’s error, which her parents have been told they cannot change. Grace Bingham and her partner, Ewan Murray, were excited to register their first child at the Sutton-in-Ashfield Registration Office in Nottinghamshire last week. But, after nights of broken sleep, they failed to notice the registrar had written the wrong sex on the birth certificate until after it had been submitted. “We were horrified but assumed that, as we saw the mistake just a few seconds after it had happened, correcting it would be an easy matter,” said Murray. “But although the registrar apologised for her mistake – and the area manager also apologised – it turns out that birth certificates can’t be changed.”
this article is interesting because it demonstrates that cis people can very easily apply structural thinking to sex assignment - this couple immediately identifies that their daughter, having mistakenly been assigned male at birth by the registrar, will have administrative problems in employment, education, travel, and so on. they pretty adeptly identify the foundational role that sex assignment plays in the administrative and civil functions of a state, and how incorrect sex markers effectively produce a ‘rational’ reason for discrimination within these administrative and civil arenas:
The General Register Office (GRO), which is responsible for administering all civil registration in England and Wales, and the Home Office have both confirmed that Lilah’s birth certificate cannot be reissued, although an amendment can be made in the margin of the original document. But Bingham said this is not enough. “People reading a birth certificate might easily miss a tiny note in the margin – which means that Lilah could be regarded as male when she applies for school, her passport, for jobs – for everything that she needs a full birth certificate for.”
And given that this was published in The Guardian, this article makes zero mention as to why it’s impossible for this couple to receive an updated birth certificate with correct information (something the author notes was possible to do a year ago), but the reason is obviously transphobia.
Now one might ask why there’s no exception for cis people whose birth certificates were recorded incorrectly at birth, but this reveals the instability of cissexualism. How would you determine who is a cis person with a mistaken birth certificate, versus a trans person who wants to change their mistaken sex assignment record? Sure, you could say well, this is an infant, of course she’s “really” “biologically” female (something the parents argue in the article as grounds for having their child’s birth certificate re-issued), but 1) that certainly can’t be argued for in all cases, 2) 'biological sex' is understood by medical doctors as alterable through hormones and surgery, which trans people are often required to undergo in order to change their records, and 3) binary sex assignment is already imprecise and discretionary, particularly if infants have sex characteristics that don’t conform to binary F/M assignment standards (which is part of how the category of intersex emerges, framing this failure to conform to state census categories as a biological defect - and in fact, many intersex people do not discover they are intersex until the onset of puberty or later, at which point they are even less in luck if they want to change their sex assignment - and if they don’t, if they are cis but have sex characteristics that do not conform to cis standards, they will be discriminated against anyway).
Even setting aside the issue of transgender and intersex people for a moment, states fuck up all the time in administration! you've probably either experienced this directly or know someone who's had some kind of record fucked up by the government at some point in their life. If you get married they could fuck up changing your last name, fuck up your disability status, record your social insurance number wrong, print the wrong address on your driver’s license, fail to acknowledge you as a dependent when filing taxes, incorrectly mark you as having graduated when you’re still a student, fuck up your immigration paperwork, record your name wrong during immigration, etc etc into infinity, and this is not even getting into errors that occur when different levels of government pass information between one another. This level of administrative rigidity is purely to punish people who fail to perform cissexualism correctly, and in the case of this couple's child, the administrative error of the state is imputed to them as a personal failure that she and her parents will now have to deal with for the rest of their lives.
I think the ultimate analysis is not that transphobia will become less precise and hit more "wrong" targets as it expands its reach, but that this is the exact same operational logic as all other liberal state measures - if you encounter a systemic issue, it’s your fault for not avoiding it, fuck you, go away. You’re poor because you’re lazy, you’re unhoused because you’re lazy, you’re disabled because you’re lazy, and your daughter is now administratively transsexual because you’re lazy. In this case, we don’t even need to assume the intentions of the state - they outright say it:
The family complained to the GRO but was told the mistake was their responsibility and could not be fully rectified. “The duty to ensure that information recorded in any particular entry is true is the responsibility of the person providing the information and not of the registrar general or the registrar recording the birth,” the GRO said.
#even old new york was once new amsterdam#some very imprecise wording on my part in the original post which I regret#like I should have made this point clearly
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Hello there! I have to say, I really, really, REALLY LOVE your Kindergarten au. Little Yanderes as noisy children and MC as a Teacher who is not being paid enough XD.
Feel free to ignore if it's uncomfortable for you!
This is my first time asking so sorry if I am bothering you, But how will the mini yanderes react if they were kissed in the lips, not in a romantic way but like a parent showing love and care <3
how Mini!Yanderes react when MC kisses them¡!
A/N; even if MC kissed them like a parent the yanderes would hear wedding bells so JASHJHSAJS also the thought of an adult kissing a child on the lips is a bit weird to me so i will change it to kisses on cheek or forehead. i was listening ddlc soundtrack to write this AND SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG
Pairing(s); "Mini!Yanderes" and GN!Reader
CW; this is actually fluff / need to remark MC just see the little yans as kids they need to take care of, no one has special treatment
Sunny Day Jack.
Jack would be the one to take the initiative, in this case, the first time he kissed MC's cheek would have been during the school photo.
Early spring, all the children had arrived well-groomed to the classroom, MC finished combing John Doe's hair while the professional photographer adjusted his camera in position, the children moved from one side to the other, except Jack.
Jack finished adjusting his bowtie, very dedicated to being the most handsome child in the photo.
Finally MC gathered them all in different rows, placing themselves behind in the center.
"I will only take it once so if you need to go to the bathroom or sneeze do it now." Said the cameraman in a listless voice, no one had any protests or urgency so he raised his hand, specifically 3 fingers.
"Three… Two… One." A flash of photography dazzled them, the curious little ones ran towards the man to be able to appreciate the photograph.
And then they saw in the photo how Jack had jumped and pulled his teacher's arm to kiss their cheek, causing several students to immediately cry.
As for Jack's reaction:
He considers himself a winner, he probably looks for other ways to ask for kisses since MC is quite open about giving affection to his students, nothing too overwhelming.
Can't stop thinking about their future as a married couple.
A manipulative bastard will surely fake accidents or work twice as hard on his tasks to get that reward.
John Doe.
John Doe is a student who needs sensitivity, but don't give him too many kisses on the forehead or you'll overwhelm him.
A day like any other, the class activity required flour and water, something simple to mold and non-toxic since many of the students love to put things in their mouths, so full of curiosity.
MC finished helping everyone create their mixtures, Keith finished making flowers with his dough while Tenebris ate it.
The children learned and had fun, it was comfortable.
Until some sobs made the teacher run to where a little long-haired boy, John Doe, who couldn't stop crying, the dough had gotten stuck in his hair.
Of course, prepared for any occasion, MC took the little boy to the bathroom to wash off all the dough, which fortunately wasn't as sticky as the time Peter put gum in Mycheal's hair.
"There you go, see? Simple, are you okay, Doe? Don't cry, everything is fixed now." MC comforted their student with hugs and coos, kissing Doe's forehead.
"Again?" He asked with those huge eyes full of tenderness, MC gave more kisses on her student's forehead, who asked for more and more between laughs.
They had to stop when they realized that Doe was convulsing with happiness on the floor, it did scare them.
As for Doe's reaction:
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
He reacts in an exaggerated way, with adorable and loud giggles, hugs, red cheeks, his happiness is evident.
He is like a cat with dilated pupils and he scares MC.
Alan Orion.
Great project for class! Alan and his mom drew a picture of the solar system and he was in an astronaut suit, he didn't learn half of the names of the planets but it was enough to get a kiss.
The theme for that day was to draw a picture of things they want to do when they grow up, Alan carried his drawing to the board while holding it up over his head.
"I'm going to be an astronaut and walk in the stars!" he commented proudly.
"Very good, Alan, come here." MC called him over to place a star-shaped sticker on his drawing.
Alan tilted his head towards the teacher, subtly indicating what he wanted and of course the teacher didn't deny it, kissing the little boy's head.
As for Alan's reaction:
He loves praise, especially from his favorite teacher, and will keep a smile on his face for the rest of the day.
He will seek further validation from MC in other aspects.
Whenever he finishes a new activity he points his head up in anticipation of kisses.
Peter Dunbar.
One day he got sick and didn't got a kiss like everyone else.
Peter was confused, why were his classmates laughing at him while he sat in his spot?
Jack walked over with his arms crossed and a grin from ear to ear.
"Yesterday teacher MC gave us all a kiss." he said mockingly.
Of course Peter immediately ran crying to the teacher to get a kiss on the forehead.
As for Peter's reaction:
He was so upset with himself for getting sick and with the others for getting a kiss before him, he cried for 2 hours.
He asked MC for many make-up kisses, which led to the others asking for a kiss as well.
Peter bit and kicked the ones who came up to ask for a kiss, and ended up being punished.
Ren.
You don't need to be good at naming colors or good at sports when you're smart to win.
Play in the garden! All the kids were very excited, especially Ren, who got the lead role, he was a prince, surely that would delight MC, he had rehearsed so much to be the perfect prince.
The play was pretty simple, he had to dance with a girl and although that wasn't in his plans he couldn't push her off the stage or MC would think he wasn't chivalrous.
The exact minute after the play ended Ren snatched the crown from the girl's head and ran after MC.
"Teacher! Teacher! I have something for you, can I put it on you?" He asked batting his eyelashes.
MC didn't wonder where the other crown came from, they assumed the girl gave it to Ren since… Well, it's Ren. The teacher knelt down with a smile and bowed their head to allow the little boy to place the crown.
They were surprised with a tender kiss on the lips, making them gasp and quickly get up, the crown was on their head... but Ren had stolen a kiss from them!
The little boy was blushing, so happy that he couldn't stop giggling.
It was a shame that there were so many eyes looking at him with great anger at that moment.
As for Ren's reaction:
He was so happy, how could he not be? He had beaten all those losers in the classroom
He made enemies but he tries to maintain a good reputation with MC
The bad thing is that he couldn't steal more kisses from MC because now his teacher was more careful when he was around.
Mycheal.
Flowers are pretty but you are not allowed to pick them from the school garden.
It was early in the morning, not all the children had arrived yet to start class, MC arranged their notebooks and prepared the lesson for that day, while Mycheal walked through the garden looking for flowers to give to his teacher.
He knew that was not allowed but the best flowers were always there, since MC watered the plants every day, so considerate!
Finally he reached the rose bush, that was always dangerous because many times he tried to take them because of how beautiful they were but it hurt a lot, the thorns were terrible.
But today he would do it! A little pain was nothing compared to his teacher's laughter.
The little blond crouched in front of the bush and held a couple of roses, taking a deep breath when the thorns embedded themselves in his skin and he began to pull.
Harder and harder until his body fell on his back, tears came out of his eyes but he smiled when he saw a pair of red roses in his hands.
"Teacher! Teacher! Look what I made for you!" He was so proud of his bouquet that he was unable to see MC's worried face.
"Mycheal, you know you shouldn't pick flowers from the garden… Come, let's put them in a vase and heal your hands." MC said, taking the little boy's little hands to give kisses to his palms, which were bleeding a little because of the thorns.
As for Mycheal's reaction:
Mycheal learned to use gloves to pick flowers, but he can't do it anymore or he'll get punished.
Now he gets into fights on purpose to get kisses on his wounds.
He's also gotten kisses thanks to sharing his lunch with MC.
Keith and Tenebris.
Nap time in the garden, but there are always a couple of kids who don't sleep.
All the little ones were resting on the padded floor, covered by blankets after MC read them a story…
All except Keith and Tenebris of course, the twins were sitting near MC, Keith wanted more stories while Tenebris just wanted hugs.
Their teacher decided to read the story of "Sleeping Beauty", a simple story with a happy ending, he got to the part where the princess was woken up with a kiss, which gave Tenebris an idea.
The boy stood up and ran straight to the wall, crashing into it and falling to the ground, although he didn't use that much force it did scare MC, who didn't understand why the boy did that.
"Tenebris needs a kiss to wake up." The boy whispered with his eyes closed, waiting for said kiss.
Although ridiculous, it was also adorable so the teacher bent down to kiss the little boy's forehead.
"Me too! Me too!" Keith whimpered, clinging to his teacher's arm before receiving a kiss on his forehead.
As for Keith and Tenebris's reaction:
They discovered that they will get more affection if they make a truce, both asking for kisses at the same time to get double the affection.
They also both ask for kisses from MC behind the other's back.
Now they always try to stay awake during nap time, so the other students won't bother MC.
Solivan Brugmansia.
Spring event, it's time to bring out your artistic talents! But not in the case of the teacher.
MC had ordered their students to draw a picture of the things they liked most about spring, a simple activity to celebrate the beginning of spring, they were allowed to use crayons, paints, watercolors, chalk…
"Doe, don't eat the colors!" They ran towards the curious child who was trying to put a color in his mouth.
Being a teacher wasn't easy and although most of his students drove them crazy they had to admit that it was adorable.
Time passed, slowly while the children concentrated, it was strange that there was so much silence but not inopportune, the teacher decided to walk around their students to supervise their work, stopping behind Sol.
He had drawn a garden, it seemed that in the background were the horses and… MC?
The teacher sighed, stroking the boy's head and kissing his cheek, he just hoped that his parents wouldn't come to the festival asking weird questions because of how attached Sol seemed to be to him.
As for Sol's reaction:
He still doesn't understand why his parents worry when he draws his teacher, he loves MC!
Prone to developing praise kink.
His artistic skills would evolve thanks to his obsession with drawing MC, which would lead to more compliments and more kisses, clever, huh?
Damon.
Time to go out and play! Sometimes tears bring good things.
The whole group followed the teacher in a row, like baby ducks following their mother, they were on their way to the playground in the kindergarten, holding hands so as not to get lost of course.
They all made a circle on the field while MC prepared the game for the day, nothing too complicated.
In the end they decided to play soccer, nothing serious, just a bunch of little kids kicking the ball around each other.
It could have been entertaining if it weren't for the fact that Damon kept trying to catch the ball with his mouth, it made some people laugh but MC was worried, the real problem came when Ren tried to kick the ball while Damon was so close to catching it with his teeth.
Fortunately there was no blood but there were tears from little Damon, who cried and cried with his arms up, wanting to be carried by MC.
MC told them to keep playing while they tended to Damon, taking him to the infirmary where they made sure to hold him in their arms and caress his sweet little cheeks so that the swelling would go down.
His teacher kissed his head lovingly.
"There, there, there… Are you feeling better, Damon? It's over, don't worry, but you should know that you shouldn't use your mouth in a game where your legs are used, understood?"
As for Damon's reaction:
He understands that injuries mean kisses and cuddles from MC, prone to getting into fights to get more and then blaming Peter.
He's like a puppy, always rubbing his head against MC for attention.
He asks for kisses every day, if he doesn't get them he'll instantly sob like a pup.
#yandere visual novel#yandere#somethings wrong with sunny day jack#swwsdj#sunny day jack#john doe game#john doe visual novel#john doe#14dwy ren#14 days with you#my dear hatchet man#mycheal#mushroom oasis#duality keith#duality game#duality tenebris#solivan brugmansia#the kid at the back vn#tkatb sol#br0ken colors damon#br<3ken colors#yb peter#your boyfriend game
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Most of the time, as the senior rabbi of Temple Beth-El in San Antonio, Rabbi Mara Nathan’s focus is on Jewish families. But this week, she’s finding herself thinking about Christian ones, too.
That’s because Texas is poised to adopt a public school curriculum that refers to Jesus as “the Messiah,” asks kindergartners to study the Sermon on the Mount and presents the Crusades in a positive light.
The curriculum, Nathan said, “gives Christian children the sense that their family’s religion is the only true religion, which is not appropriate for public school education, at the very least.”
Nathan is among the many Texans raising concerns about the proposed reading curriculum as it nears final approval. Earlier this week, the Texas State Board of Education narrowly voted to proceed with the curriculum, called Bluebonnet Learning. A final vote is set for Friday.
The critics, who include Jewish parents and organizations as well as interfaith and education advocacy groups, say Bluebonnet — which will be optional but which schools would be paid to adopt — inappropriately centers on Christian theology and ideas. They have been lobbying for revisions since it was first proposed in May, offering detailed feedback.
“The first round of the curriculum that we saw honestly had a lot of offensive content in it, and was proselytizing, and did not represent Jewish people well,” said Lisa Epstein, the director of San Antonio’s Jewish Community Relations Council.
Now those critics say most of their specific suggestions have been accepted but they remain concerned.
“Looking at the revision, we still feel that the curriculum is not balanced and it introduces a lot of Christian concepts at a very young age, like resurrection and the blood of Christ and the Messiah, when kids are just really too young to understand and they don’t really have a grasp yet completely of their own religion,” she added. Epstein, who testified at a hearing on the proposal in Austin on Monday, has a child in high school and two others who graduated from Texas public schools.
The Texas vote comes as advocates of inserting Christianity into public education are ascendant across the country. Political conservatives are in power at the national level and the Supreme Court’s conservative supermajority has demonstrated openness to blurring church-state separation.
President-elect Donald Trump has signaled support for numerous initiatives to reintroduce Christian doctrine into public schools, from supporting school prayer to endorsing legislation that would require public school classrooms to display the Ten Commandments. (One such measure in Louisiana was recently blocked by a federal judge.)
In Texas, Bluebonnet’s advocates say the curriculum would elevate students’ learning while also exposing them to essential elements of cultural literacy. They note that the curriculum includes references to a wide range of cultures, including ancient religions, and that the religious references make up only a small fraction of the material.
“They’ll elevate the quality of education being offered to all Texas students by giving them a well-rounded understanding of important texts and their impact on the world,” Megan Benton, a strategic policy associate at Texas Values, which says its mission is “to stand for biblical, Judeo-Christian values,” said during the hearing on Monday, Education Week reported. Texas Values called criticism of the proposed curriculum an “attack on the Bible.”
The Texas Education Authority solicited the proposed curriculum, which would join a menu of approved options, as part of a pandemic-era effort that waived some transparency laws, meaning that its authors are not fully known. But The 74, an education news organization, reported this week that a publishing company co-founded by former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee contributed content to the curriculum.
Trump tapped Huckabee, a pastor and evangelical favorite, last week to become his ambassador to Israel.
For some in Texas and beyond, Bluebonnet represents a concrete example of how the national climate could ripple out into local changes.
“A lot of things, we think they’re outside of our community, or outside of our scope, like we hear these things, but are they really going to impact us?” said a Jewish assistant principal in the Richardson Independent School District north of Dallas who asked to remain anonymous. “But I think now that it’s becoming a potential reality, a friend was asking me, would Richardson adopt this? Is this something that is really going to happen in our community?”
While the Supreme Court has ruled that public schools can teach about religion, they cannot prioritize one religion over another in that instruction. So Bluebonnet’s inclusion of Christian and Bible stories in lesson plans drew scrutiny from the start — which grew after the Texas Tribune reported that a panel required to vet all curriculum proposals included Christian proponents of incorporating religion in public education.
In September, The Texas Education Authority’s curriculum review board published hundreds of pages of emails from members of the public along with whether the critiques had resulted in changes. Some did, the board noted, but many others were rejected.
A coalition of Jewish groups submitted 37 requested changes to the initial curriculum proposal. Epstein said the San Antonio JCRC had specifically objected to language in some lessons that evoked “antisemitic tropes” and textual inaccuracies in referencing the story of Queen Esther, as well as offensive references to the Crusades and language that explained the birth of Jesus as the messiah.
One passage had invited students to imagine “if you were a Crusader,” Epstein said, referring to the Christian knights of the Middle Ages who sought to conquer the Holy Land, massacred communities of Jews and are venerated by some on the Christian right.
In the case of the Esther lesson, the original curriculum had recreated an aspect of the Purim story in which Haman drew lots to determine when to kill Jews in the Persian Empire — as a way to teach probability. Nathan called that particular lesson “subversively antisemitic.”
“In ancient Persia [drawing lots] was a way of helping someone make a decision, and the game was called Purim,” the initial text read. “Ask students to choose a number from 1 to 6. Roll a die and ask the students to raise their hand if their number was rolled.”
“This is shocking, offensive and just plain wrong,” Sharyn Vane, a Jewish parent of two Texas public school graduates, said at a September hearing, according to the New York Times. “Do we ask elementary students to pretend to be Hitler?” (Historical simulations have widely been rejected by educators for all grades.)
Both of the lessons were revised after feedback from Jewish groups and others, but Epstein and Nathan said the changes were not adequate. A new prompt asks students to describe “the journey of a Crusader” in the third-person, but it still sanitizes the murder of many Jews and Christians during the Christian quest to conquer Jerusalem, Epstein charged.
And while the Purim lots activity was dropped, Epstein noted that a specific lesson plan about Esther — a beloved figure among evangelical Christians — also includes a reference to God, which the Megillah, the Jewish text telling the Purim story, famously does not do. She said that inaccuracy was not addressed in the revisions.
In a statement, San Antonio’s Jewish federation, under which the JCRC operates, also acknowledged the changes that were made after its feedback but expressed concern over what it called “an almost solely Christian-based” perspective with “inaccuracies” and content that is inappropriate for elementary school students.
“We are not against teaching a broad range of religious beliefs to children in an age-appropriate way that clearly distinguishes between ‘beliefs’ and ‘facts,’ and gives appropriate time and respect to acknowledging many different religions,” the federation said. “Public schools should be places where children of all religious backgrounds feel welcomed and accepted.”
The newer version of the curriculum also did not address the federation’s concerns about language referring to Jesus as “the Messiah,” written with a capital “M,” and references to “the Bible,” rather than “the Christian Bible” specifically, as the federation had urged the curriculum’s creators to adopt.
The Austin branch of the Anti-Defamation League, which was also involved in the efforts, also applauded the revisions that had been made thus far but said it still “reject[s] the current version of the proposed curriculum.”
“We agree that students should learn the historical contributions of various religious traditions, but ADL’s analysis of the originally proposed curriculum found that a narrow view of Christianity was overwhelmingly emphasized, there were few mentions of other faiths and the curriculum baselessly credited Christianity with improved societal morality,” the group said in a statement. “Although improvements have been made, the materials still appear to cross the line into teaching religion instead of teaching about religion.”
Criticism to the curriculum goes far beyond the Jewish community. Texas AFT, the state’s outpost of the American Federation of Teachers, a leading teachers’ union, also opposes the proposal. “Texas AFT believes that not only do these materials violate the separation of church and state and the academic freedom of our classroom, but also the sanctity of the teaching profession,” the union said in a statement.
Some Republicans on the Texas Board of Education expressed reservations about the curriculum’s quality and age-appropriateness, separate from its religious content.
And nonpartisan and interfaith groups like Texas Impact and Texas Freedom Network have also been involved in efforts to oppose the curriculum, as has the Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty. Epstein said a Sikh parent also testified at one of the hearings, asking for her faith’s traditions to be incorporated into lesson plans to provide more religious perspectives.
Nathan said that when she testified against the proposal at a September hearing, her allies were diverse.
“Some of the people who were against it were not Jewish, and just were [against] the way that the curriculum was being put together pedagogically,” she said. “But there were both Jewish and non-Jewish people there, and also some Christian folks who were there who were opposed to such an overtly Christian curriculum.”
Marian Neleson, who has a 14-year-old daughter and a 12-year-old son in the Frisco Independent School District, said it has never been easy to be a Jewish family in her area.
“There’s always concerns as a parent when there’s just a handful of other Jewish children in a majority Christian school,” said Neleson, who is active in her local interfaith alliance. “From how the school celebrates, how they do their calendars. Do they remember that there is a Jewish holiday, and then they schedule major school functions on High Holy Days?”
Now, she’s worried that her own district could face pressure to adopt the new curriculum, if it is approved.
“These kind of curriculums are promoting one interpretation, one religion’s view, and I feel like that’s not very respectful of people who come from different backgrounds and different faiths and different religions,” Neleson said. She added, “I do think that the Frisco school district particularly does try to be inclusive and try to recognize the diversity of the community, but I know that there’s always pressure from groups who are trying to promote one agenda in the schools.”
The Richardson assistant principal said she saw in the financial incentive to adopt the curriculum — districts that do so will get up to $60 per student — an inappropriate assertion of support by the state. Many Texas districts are cash-strapped after legislators declined to substantially increase school funding last year.
“There is such a push in education for high-quality instructional materials,” said the assistant principal, who has three elementary school-aged children. “They’re pushing this so hard, and even potentially putting up funding for it if you adopt it, but it’s not a truly high-quality curriculum.”
In a Facebook post after Tuesday’s preliminary vote, Vane encouraged parents to reach out to members of the state’s education board to urge them to oppose the curriculum. “It’s not over yet,” she wrote.
Nathan said she’s not sure how much opponents of the curriculum can do if it’s approved, but she stressed the importance of local advocacy — especially since the curriculum is not required.
“I think reaching out to your local school board and communicating with local teachers in your community is going to be key,” she said. “If this occurs, what do I need to do in my local school district to make sure that there’s programming that balances the perspective?”
But she signaled that the intensity of the proposed curriculum would undercut any counter-programming by representatives of other faiths.
“It’s not presented as, ‘Here’s what Christians believe,’” Nathan said about Bluebonnet. “It’s presented as, ‘Here is the truth.’ There’s a difference.”
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oh. this is interesting…
random personal lore drop below
(tldr: I don’t believe I can be a real system but I’m sure as hell not normal)
TW: (minor mentions) gvns, r@p3, d34th, (major mention) su1c1d3
I called myself endogenic because I don’t qualify as traumatized.
let me explain.
I’ve had anxiety, depression, ADHD, and other unidentified issues for my whole life. I roleplayed because it was my escape, life made me want to stop living so why would I stay there? When I was writing or drawing I was those characters, buried in their minds, filling in their bodies, but something would pull me back to reality and I’d feel it crumble. Some characters stayed longer than others. Slowly, I found out they weren’t character’s I had just made up; they were my theriotypes. I left it at that, that I was just a polytherian. But I’m not my types. I share a body with them. I have conversations with them, they care about me, we cuddle as best we can when there’s only one body to share. I love my parents. I love my friends. But life has always been terrifying to me. Sometimes things I’d never experienced would make me cry and hyperventilate. Gunshots make me freeze up and stop breathing. Mentions of sexual assault, of rape, of murder make me want to throw up and cry. Child abuse and childloss make me vengeful like I have nothing but rage. Labels and rules make me sick and dizzy. Poisoning and sickness make me feel like I’m drowning in them. I can’t recognize myself sometimes. My body isn’t mine. I always assumed I was just an odd therian. i learned about systems, and they described the things happening in my head. Some days I tie the door to my room shut because I want to starve and die and crumble so badly. But I always said to myself “my family and friends are fine, so I can’t be traumatized. It’s all in my head, and I’m a failure and a faker for ever thinking that I could be anything else. I’m just being a poser and hurting these people who have been through so much worse.” I believed so deeply that my issues were insignificant and that I didn’t have nearly enough mental problems to be a true system. I said to myself “I don’t have trauma. So I can’t be a DID system. But system is so comforting of a label, so I must be endogenic, and therefore I shouldn’t talk to anyone about my issues because I will just be taking away from people who truly are traumatized.” I never felt like I belonged in supporting spaces because I never got raped or shot or manipulated by my family or friends, even though those things dragged flashbacks from lives I never had, memories from the others in my body. My parents loved me, and my friends cared about me, so I wasn’t traumatized. I have no trauma, so I didn’t deserve to be in those spaces.
There are six of us. The host tries their best to take care of us, but takes out their emotions through cutting and starving themself. This isn’t my body. These aren’t my parents. I can tell these people care, but they’re not mine. I can’t remember what I did for most of the day. It’s all just fog. Fog and static.
If all endos are fake and posers, then I must be one too. Even though I hear my packmates, the others in this body, I love them so dearly, and I can feel their limbs and the memories are so strong it hurts me physically.
I can’t be truly traumatized, right? Not if my family was good.
Not if my friends were nice.
Even though this world makes me want to hang myself…
I don’t count as traumatized enough to be a true system.
I am nothing but a fraud.
ENDO LORE?????!????
#space rambles#cosmo lore#i had a breakdown writing this I think#plural system#plural#plurality#anxiety#tw sui#tw rap3#ranting#poems from the void
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Something wholesome (or sad idk) because of crippling anxiety and how im procrastinating my assignments:
Sunshine
Gun x daughter reader:
“Daddy can you tie my shoelace?”
Those words had Jonggun’s mind in a blank. Tie her shoe laces? His mind suddenly aware of how his childhood was a ways ahead different than the one he tried to give his child, nothing ever pushed him towards the anger that he had sustained or the coldness he endured, the force of individuality, coldness, expectations, pain, and neglected before being smuggling into a different country by the age of 12.
He watched his little girl pout up at him embarrassed and shy, something so small could enlist a reaction of his little girl but he still couldn’t hold onto an ounce of emotion without it puffing into smoke. Leaving himself once again, numb, alone, inhumane.
It felt foreign how she was confidently asking him for a favour he would’ve been expected to know younger than her age. However he couldn’t shed the instinct to respond to her beck and call so quickly.
He blinked and lowered himself to her level before silently tying them meanwhile she hummed and busied her fingers by playing in his dark hair.
He finished her loops before securing them with a double knot then looking up back at her big doe eyes and rosey cheeks, all centred around a tiny button nose.
Perfect. His perfection. Everything he wasn’t . The stark contrast of her pigtails, playful eyes and pinky outfits, childish nail polish and little bits of glitter and stick on diamonds on her face, Childish. Meanwhile he’d be clad in darker colours, feel the blood of others dry upon his skin, his knuckles busted and hair gelled back in maturity. Grown up. She raised a brow and blinked.
“You look sad.”
Something so Perceptive for someone so young. She grew up too fast for him to realise, yet she still remained a baby in his heart. Yet he still felt a numbness towards the past, however within the time frame of his child’s birth he’d felt….something akin to the ray of sunshine, that comforting and gentle caress of love.
He couldn’t help but wonder if his parents noticed his growth? Did they feel this caress of tender affection? The swirling of love stir a reaction of warmth for a little person they created? He didn’t know. Not that he could ask anymore. He kept his eyes on her before responding.
“I have a lot on my mind right now.”
She perked up.
“Are we gonna rant together?!”
He smirked.
“You go first.”
He didn’t know how hard it would be to raise a child but he’d destroy himself before dropping into the standards he’d been raised by.
#gun park x reader#gun park#lookism comic#lookism x reader#lookism webtoon#this might be worse then I imagined but just go with it because I’m sleep deprived#park jonggun#sounded cuter in my head
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For the Find Your Way Home AU, are there any character relationships or connections that you think would be different from canon because the ninja all meet each other at a different point in life/under new circumstances? Like, for example, are they less close with Zane because they only just met him and didn't know him while he still thought he was human? Is bonding with Lloyd easier because they didn't deal with him trying to go all "child villain" on their asses?
ohhhh ohhhhh the Zane dynamic in the group is so fun because he's not human, he knows hes not human, and he's actively keeping it a secret. he's lying to them! for a long time! because of this, hes effectively always keeping the others at arms length. he can't risk anyone getting close because they might find out. this puts a wedge between him and the others until they find out about his secret (which is... seasons down the line. oops.) also they think he's weird ❤️ and all his extensive knowledge, seer abilities, and android nature only add to that. it takes them longer to warm up to him.
bonding with Lloyd is definitely easier because to them he's just some kid signed up for a tournament he should NOT be in. they want to protect him!! and Lloyd also has a lot going on that really helps him relate to the others, and he's more willing to be open about those things. doesn't know his dad, who left when he was a kid? hey Kai! feels he's destined for something greater and feels the pressure to live up to that mysterious bar? Nya! complicated relationship with a parental figure? helloooo Cole! Different in an unexplainable way that sets him apart from others? Zane! has a hard time making friends and uses sarcasm to shield himself? Jayyyyy!
Cole and Jay take a loooong time to trust and rely on the others. they have each other, and that's a crutch they both constantly fall back on. they know where they stand with each other and don't have to worry about guessing games with the others.
Kai is not really into the whole Elemental Masters thing, but he forms a close bond with Lloyd and Nya really pushes him to embrace his destiny so he finally warms up to the idea. part of him is still resistant so that can cause a bit of contention between him and zane especially, who'd fully committed to his role as the White Ninja.
Nya's relationship with kai suffers a lot during this because Nya always KNEW she was destined for greatness!! and then she learns about this amazing prophecy... that her brother is part of. her brother, who wouldn't even have come along if not for her. who wants no part of it. HE'S in the prophecy. and he's still trying to baby her and take care of her. she's bitter towards them all but doesn't show it
feel free to ask about specific relationships!
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Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron
Chapter Six
Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.
Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Character deaths & angst.
Author's Notes: 1 chapter left to gooooooo!
Masterlist: Here
The next few days blurred together as the courtroom became a battleground. The air was thick with tension, the walls seemingly closing in around you as each new revelation about Ward Cameron was brought to light. The stakes were higher than they had ever been before. The pressure to win, to protect Willa, pressed down on you like an invisible weight, and the only thing that kept you grounded was the unwavering support from Rafe by your side.
Each morning you walked into the courthouse, the same grim faces of the Cameron family greeted you. Ward was there, his presence looming over the proceedings like a dark cloud. His smugness hadn't faltered, and even though he was under intense scrutiny, he still acted like he was above it all. He never once looked at you or Rafe directly—only ever speaking to his lawyers in low, controlled tones, as though his guilt was something he could keep hidden.
But it wouldn’t last.
Today, you were ready. You had no intention of backing down. You had the truth on your side, and that was something Ward could never escape.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The courtroom was packed as usual, and you sat in your chair, feeling the weight of all eyes on you. Rafe, though his jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed with focus, sat beside you. The final moments of this battle were drawing near, and today was the day you hoped would shift everything in your favor.
Ward’s lawyer had spent the last few hours trying to discredit the evidence you’d found in the attic—claiming it was old, irrelevant, that it had nothing to do with Willa’s future. But the judge had seen through those arguments, and as you waited for the next moment to arrive, your heart beat steadily in your chest.
Rafe’s lawyer stood, clearing his throat as he prepared to present the final piece of evidence. A stack of photographs, medical reports, and those damning letters Sarah had written in secret. Rafe held your hand under the table, a gesture so small yet filled with so much meaning. You squeezed his hand in return, a silent promise to him that you would do your part.
“Your Honor,” Rafe’s lawyer began, “we’ve gathered new evidence that clearly shows the abusive history of Mr. Ward Cameron. This evidence is not just hearsay—it is documented, it is real, and it is a direct reflection of the environment in which Rafe and his sister, Sarah, were forced to grow up. These letters, these photos, they paint a portrait of emotional and physical abuse, a history that has haunted the Cameron family for years.”
The lawyer presented each piece, and the courtroom fell into a tense silence. You could feel Ward’s gaze burning into you, but you refused to look back. This was it. You were done being intimidated.
When the lawyer finished, the judge nodded, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—a flicker of doubt now cast on Ward’s credibility.
And then, it was your turn.
You stood up from your seat, your legs shaking but your resolve as solid as ever. You walked to the stand, the weight of the moment sinking in. You could feel the tension rising, the murmurs in the courtroom fading as all eyes turned to you. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and then you spoke.
“Your Honor, I know you’ve heard a lot of things about Rafe Cameron in this courtroom,” you began, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside. “I know what people say about him. That he’s angry, that he’s dangerous, that he’s just another spoiled rich kid who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. But that’s not who he is. And that’s not the person he’s been to Willa.”
Your eyes searched for Rafe in the crowd, and when you found him, there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place—a mixture of vulnerability and strength that you hadn’t seen before.
“I’ve known Rafe for a long time. And yes, he has a past—one that’s been shaped by a father who made him believe that love was something earned, not something given. But that’s not the Rafe I’ve seen over the past few months. The man who sits here today is a man who has stepped up for his niece, a man who, despite his own hurt, has taken responsibility for her, for them. And I’ve seen him with Willa. I’ve seen how he cares for her.”
You turned slightly to look at Rafe again, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite put into words. You had seen him grow into a man who loved fiercely and without hesitation. A man who would never, ever let someone like Ward tear apart what he was trying to build.
“I’ve seen him comfort her when she’s scared. I’ve seen him stay up all night with her when she’s sick. I’ve seen him put aside his own pain to make sure she’s okay. He’s been there for her in ways that no one ever was for him. He’s been a better father figure than Ward Cameron could ever be.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you forced them back. You weren’t going to break now—not in front of the court, not when you were so close.
“You want to know the truth?” you continued, your voice rising with emotion. “The truth is, Rafe Cameron is one of the most caring people I know. And he has done everything in his power to make sure that Willa grows up with love, safety, and stability. He is not like his father. And he is not the man they say he is.”
You paused, your chest tightening, but you pushed forward. “I’m not just here to testify for Rafe. I’m here to testify for Willa. She deserves a childhood full of love and protection. And I promise you, Your Honor, that is what Rafe will give her. I’ll give her too. We will do this together.”
The courtroom was silent when you finished, the weight of your words hanging in the air. You could hear the sharp intake of breath from those who had been skeptical of your testimony. Even Ward seemed taken aback, his smug expression faltering just for a moment.
You sat back down, trying to steady your breath, your hands trembling. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long time, you felt hope.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
After a long deliberation, the judge returned to the bench. You could feel Rafe’s tension beside you, his hand gripping yours as he waited for the decision.
The room held its breath as the judge spoke, his voice calm but firm. “After reviewing all the evidence, including the newly presented documentation of Mr. Ward Cameron’s abusive behavior and the heartfelt testimony regarding the current guardianship situation, this court finds that the best interest of Willa Routledge lies with her current guardians—Rafe and [Y/N]. The court hereby grants full custody to the guardians of the child, effective immediately.”
For a moment, you couldn’t process what you had just heard. And then it hit you, crashing through you like a wave. You had won.
Rafe, who had been so stoic, looked at you in disbelief. His grip on your hand tightened, and for a moment, all the pain, all the struggle, all the long nights of worry faded into the background. You had done it. Willa was safe.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Rafe. You had fought together—and now, for the first time since Sarah and John B. had passed, you both had a reason to believe in the future again.
Rafe squeezed your hand, his voice thick with emotion. “We did it. We really did it.”
And as the gavel came down, sealing the decision, you finally allowed yourself to breathe again.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The courtroom was still buzzing with the aftermath of the judge’s ruling. The gavel had just come down, the words of victory still echoing in your ears. Willa was finally safe, and you had won—together. You and Rafe exchanged a look, one that held a mix of disbelief and relief. There were no more battles to fight. The war was over, and you had come out on top.
But just as you thought you could breathe again, the door to the courtroom swung open with a heavy slam. Ward Cameron.
His face was a mask of rage, his eyes burning with fury as he stormed toward the front. The room fell silent, the tension thickening again as people shifted uncomfortably in their seats. You knew this wasn’t over. Ward wasn’t the type to let go of a loss easily.
“You think you’ve won?” Ward spat, his voice dripping with venom. His eyes locked on Rafe, and for a moment, it was like the room itself shrank. His presence alone seemed to warp the air around you, making the world feel smaller. “This isn’t over, boy. I’ll make sure you never get to raise that child. You don’t deserve her. None of you do.”
Rafe stood up immediately, his jaw tightening, fists clenched at his sides. “You’re the last person who gets to tell me what I deserve,” Rafe growled, his voice low but laced with fury. The anger between them had been simmering for years, but now it was a live wire, crackling between them.
You could feel Rafe’s anger radiating beside you, but you stood quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “Rafe, it’s done. The decision is made. You’re not going to change it by causing a scene.”
Ward sneered at you, his eyes narrowing in disdain. “You think this is over, huh? You think just because you got some courtroom victory, I’m going to back off? You’re both fools. I’ll fight you every step of the way.”
Before you could respond, Ward turned his eyes back to Rafe. “You’re weak. Just like your mother. Just like Sarah. Always the disappointment.” His words were sharp, like daggers aimed right at Rafe’s chest, trying to cut deep.
You could see the tension in Rafe’s posture, his muscles tensing, but before he could say anything, Ward took a step forward, getting dangerously close.
That’s when security stepped in.
“Mr. Cameron, that’s enough,” one of the officers said sternly, moving toward him with authority. “You need to leave now.”
Ward didn’t seem to care. He stepped closer, jabbing a finger toward Rafe. “I’m not finished with you. Not by a long shot.” His voice was shaking with rage.
But before he could take another step, two security guards moved in, grabbing his arms and pulling him back. Ward tried to shove them off, but they held firm, dragging him away from the front of the courtroom.
“You’ll regret this, Rafe!” Ward yelled, his voice echoing through the room as he was escorted out. “I’ll make sure of it!”
The door slammed shut behind him, and the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. But slowly, the tension began to ebb. People exchanged glances, whispered amongst themselves. There was no question now—Ward Cameron had lost. But the question remained: would he ever truly accept it?
Rafe stood there, his body rigid with anger, his fists still clenched. You could see the way his hands shook, the way his jaw clenched tighter with each breath. But he didn’t say a word. Not yet. Instead, he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he turned to face you.
You walked over to him, your heart heavy with everything that had just happened. His face was pale, his eyes distant. You reached out, touching his arm gently, but he didn’t pull away.
“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, knowing full well that the words didn’t do justice to the storm that was brewing inside him.
Rafe exhaled slowly, a long, tortured sound. “Yeah… I will be.” He paused, then added in a quieter voice, “I just never thought it would be this hard. To finally win… and still have him out there.”
You nodded, understanding all too well. “It won’t be easy. But we’ve got each other. And we’ve got Willa. That’s all that matters.”
Rafe looked down at the floor for a long moment, his hand running through his hair. “I hate that he still has this hold on me, on all of us,” he murmured. “I hate that even after everything, he can just show up and make me feel like I’m still that kid. Like I’m still the one who doesn’t deserve anything.”
You stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He doesn’t control you anymore. He never will again. You’re not that kid anymore, Rafe. And you’ve earned the right to protect Willa. You are her family.”
Rafe didn’t look up immediately, but the words seemed to sink in. His breath was steadier now, his expression softer. Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and something deeper—something you had seen in him all along, but only now, in this moment, could you truly recognize.
“We’ll keep fighting for her,” he said, his voice firm, though still weary. “No matter what it takes.”
You nodded, knowing that together, you would face whatever came next. The fight wasn’t over. Ward might not have given up, but neither had you—or Rafe.
You turned to the door, where Willa’s social worker was waiting for you, her smile soft and reassuring. It was done. Willa was safe. And despite the lingering presence of Ward, despite the obstacles still ahead, for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could finally begin to heal.
And together, you would build the family that Sarah and John B. had wanted for her all along.
© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx#obx x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron request#rafe cameron season 4#drew starkey fanfiction#life as we know it
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da-bug: #What people saw is that justification of all the internet memes and jumped#in a way purposefully misleading the message enough to not get the meaning beyond their nose#The internet has become so pervasive within the online communities that these stories had to be cut#the internet has become sexualized in a way to the point where people see a design and pre lament#Those kids that grew up centuries ago aren’t normally exposed to this amounts of gratuitous sexual qualities#Perhaps those whomst villages have been pillaged I suppose.#These stories need a certain level of thought to be kind to the pokemon#these stories wouldn’t be so out of place on like‚ a kids historical myths interactive website#I dunno#I’m still going to use these pokemon despite the bad feelings people are hellbent on making me feel#It’s unfair to ascribe sexual intentions onto any pokemon in my opinion
This is a very nuanced response and helps explain this, because I've also seen bizarre pearl-clutching about... tales as simple as Hansel and Gretel and Brother and Sister, as if they're "too scary" with their themes of parental abandonment (Hansel and Gretel + Brother and Sister) and the plot element of a cannibalistic witch (Hansel and Gretel) or witch step-mother cursing them (Brother and Sister), as if children would not focus, instead, on the virtues of the two siblings protecting each other loyally as their parents failed to do so (Hansel and Gretel + Brother and Sister), even when one is under a curse (Brother and Sister)... the danger of the forest and the witch makes the story exciting, but not too scary for most kids, especially given the good conquers evil ending. Perhaps a rare, particularly sensitive child would find it too scary, but many will find it exciting, esteem courage and bravery, and empathize with the siblings and their love for one another, rather than go "OMG TOO DARK FOR KIDS THE WITCH EATS PEOPLE, THEIR STEP-MOM THREW THEM IN THE WOODS TO DIE, AND THEIR DAD IS A SPINELESS COWARD WHO WON'T STAND UP TO HIS WIFE, HOW IS THIS FOR KIDS?!?!?!"
It reminds me of Miyazaki's pitch for Princess Mononoke.
"... however, even in the middle of hatred and killings, there are things worth living for. A wonderful meeting, or a beautiful thing can exist. We depict hatred, but it is to depict that there are more important things. We depict a curse, to depict the joy of liberation..."
I don't want to act like a snob, but, y'all... really don't read old fairy tales or mythology, do you...? You only know the sanitized, bloodless Disney versions? People get cut to pieces (Cinderella/Ashputtel, The Red Shoes), women are abducted to be wives (an upsetting practice that continued until very recently, still practiced in some countries today—horrible, but part of life that found its way into stories, like The Seal's Skin), and magical talking animal husbands / wives (The Crane's Return of a Favour; East of the Sun, West of the Moon, etc.) abound in old mythology. Kids have been raised hearing these stories and not thinking about sex for centuries...
Humans marrying Pokemon in the ancient past was frankly stated in the Japanese version of DPPt. The English version rightly assumed English-speaking fans won't take it and reworded it from used to marry to used to eat at the same table (some euphemism!)
The Typhlosion story is no different from western stories like East of the Sun, West of the Moon (the way she was advised not to look at him reminded me of that) or The Seal's Skin (selkies cannot transform and return to the sea without their pelts—the abducted wife leaves her half-human child on land, escaping with her pelt when she finds it... the half-human, half-Pokemon children are bullied by their pelts being thrown on them to transform them against their will for cruel human amusement..)
The bloody myth about the boy with the sword is Veilstone's myth, but told in detail, right down to the Pokemon exacting a toll from him for how he maimed and slew them for amusement.
A man unknowingly marries a transformed-into-human form Froslass he met once before in Pokemon Legends: Arceus and she flees when he finds out what she was... it's based on a tale about the yuki-onna, the folkloric snow woman Froslass is based on.
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#replies#da bug#fairy tales#Pokemon#long post#Typhlosion is still cool to me even if some fable one abducted a wife in some ancient passed down story
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