#as an 8 year old that was traumatising....

[beemintty]

i can't shine a light at a mirror in a dark space... there is something deeply terrifying about it.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [8]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9

"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.

Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."

Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"

"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.

He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.

Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.

The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."

Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.

"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."

Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."

Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"

Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.

"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."

Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.

The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.

In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"

Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.

As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.

But you weren't entirely alone, of course.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.

"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.

You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.

With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."

Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.

Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."

Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."

Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."

As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."

"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.

Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."

Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."

You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"

This time, you nodded with a wide smile.

"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."

Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.

With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."

He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."

Mission accomplished.

Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."

As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."

His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.

"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.

Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.

Yes, he's here with you now.

Nothing bad will happen.

His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."

The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"

Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.

The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"

"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.

You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.

Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.

Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."

The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."

"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."

"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.

Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"

Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"

The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.

"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.

All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.

Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.

But what if there was still hope for them?

What if they had a chance?

After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.

You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."

That should be me!

The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?

In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."

Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"

"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.

Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."

Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.

Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.

Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.

Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?

"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.

Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."

"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.

Your real home, not this nightmare.

« Preview of Part 9 »

As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.

"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.

If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?

Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."

Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.

"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."

Oh, crap.

Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈

Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

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[oldmannapping]

Nope, I’m ranting about Batman’s parenting again.

Mr Wayne. You adopted a bunch of troubled kids and that’s swell but sir

The bar was so low.

A kid with severe trauma who had a gruelling manual labour job at 8 years old and whose best friend was an elephant.

A kid who was traumatised and homeless.

A kid who was severely neglected.

A kid who was abused and raised by literal assassins.

I could go on but BRUCE. MATE.

All these kids were self-reliant, used to taking on responsibilities above their age level, and fucked up.

Did you have your butler make them a boiled egg and then not die horribly in front of them or beat them?

Congratulations, you’ve exceeded their expectations!

Bruce I’m still so salty at you about skipping the toilet training stage for all your kids. These were fit, healthy, self-reliant older children with no concept of a healthy parent-child dynamic.

Bruce, the bar. Was. In. The. Basement. Of. The. Batcave.

And you still keep failing to reach it.

[volturissideslut]

What if the Humans adopt a child just to see what’s so special about humans and why the Cullens like them so much, not knowing how troublesome a 8 year old can be?

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

strap in because this is going to be one hell of a ride (also I'm assuming asker meant volturi adopt a chaotic human child)

Aro, ever the curious one, cannot even fathom why dear Carlisle cares so much for these... creatures

And it's been like over 3000 years since he was human and he can't really remember much about living

It would also help if it would stop making Marcus be such a miserable slab of stone, and perhaps even Caius could do with a new toy

It just seemed like destiny when an 8 year old child strayed from the feeding group one day, too entertained by chasing a fat tabby cat that had jumped the wall to the garden

Whatever parent or guardian that came with seemingly hadn't noticed - not that they were alive long enough too

And, of course, Felix was the one to deliver the child to Master Aro considering he's the only one with a modium of decorum or respect for life in the castle

Any of the other guards would have eaten you on sight to be honest (they wouldn't in the future but you're just some random human child right now, they don't care about you yet)

Aro takes one look at you're little form, sticky fingers; muddy knees; grazed elbows; a leaf in your hair

Perfect

They're keeping you

easy, right?

wrong

Why is a overexcited yet hysterical human child such a lovable inconvenience, you may ask

well

1) none of them can fully keep track of you're emotions,why are children so confusing???

2) they can't fully keep track of your whereabout either

"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET OF THE ROOF YOU HEATHEN CHILD" - Caius probably

3) they know nothing, and I mean nothing, about humans. Expect them to ask the secratery for help next time you're sobbing, only to find out you're hungry because they haven't fed you a proper meal in days thinking you'd forage for it yourself

I swear Marcus is the only one who is knowledgeable, despite how small it is

"the child requires sustinence again" - Jane, fed up of this shit

4) they're used to the traumatic stuff of vampire life, you are not, they don't realise that

poor kid is gonna be so traumatised, by the age of 10 killing someone over cereal seems socially acceptable

At least Caius actually has a soft spot for you, otherwise you'd be dead dead by now

Marcus reads you bedtime stories

Aro wants you to grow up appreciating everything he does, there are many 'daddy/daughter dates' where he takes you to see plays, musicals, concerts, or whatever that he deems suitable

Caius pretends to be impressed with your drawings and fakes excitement at whatever lego monstrosity you've made

Alec shows you the world, taking you around on his days off to Scotland, Brazil, India or wherever you randomly point to on a map

Felix let's you use his cloak as a blanket when he's not using it, you like to play with it and use it for dens and pillow forts (it can also be used as one of those massive fabric parachute tent bubble thingys the class played with in nursery/FS1/kindergarten and hid under (you know what I'm talking about))

Demitri let's you win at hide and seek despite his gift letting him know where you are at all times. He is also not above pretending to play to keep you out the way and quiet for a solid five minutes before you come out giggling saying you won again

Jane will capture butterflies and set them free with you because she knows you love them and you also love to chase them

The queen's are always dressing you up like a doll and doing your hair, they basically get a list from the secratery of everything humans need (food, water, socialising etc) and fulfil those needs for you

The secratery is the only one who actually knows what you want and need most times, being human herself. The kings are seriously considering turning her instead of just killing her you your sake

And God forbid anyone touches their precious baby, you've grown on them and they'd burn the world for you in an instant

[amara555555]

I’m starting to get inspo from sad yet satisfying stories:

Goo x little sister reader (platonic):

The tears that pricked your eyes stung far worse now that they had been repressed for so long.

The uneven length of your hair only started to look worse the longer you looked at it, your hands trembled as the mothers outside the bathroom door all talked and shook their heads disappointedly. None of them could get answers out the girls who supposed played hairstyles with all the girls.

A soft sob left you as you scrolled through the four contacts on your phone. Your older brother insisted on a phone at 8 years old. You’re in his custody after all.

Your finger trembled before it clicked over his name and the dreaded but desperate dial rang.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ri-

“HEY SWEETIE!”

Your heart only hurt more once you could hear how excited he was.

“How’s the party?? You don’t understand how me and Gun are missing out, I swear to god business has been SO SLOW-“

A sob left you and his cheery tone left along with it.

“…..Y/N. What happened?”

His tone now sincere and concerned once your tears rolled and sobs left more freely.

“Goo, I need you to- look I’m ok alright, I just- I need you to pick me up please-“

A deeper voice in the background of his call spoke and Goo shushed him.

“Hey hey hey, I’m on my way. Yeah? I’ll be there in 5 minutes. I promise.”

—————————————

Your stare out the window was lifeless. Goo argued with the moms who were supposedly incharge of this shit show in the first place. The big man in front glanced at you through the rear view mirror through his shades. His scary eyes were uncharacteristically softer once his gaze landed on the unevenly cut hair and your tear face, your tiny form swallowed by Goo’s expensive coat.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SUPERVISED?!”

You flinch at Goo’s shriek, he stormed back to the car with a tight jaw and eyes narrowed. You watch him stand by your door and take a deep breath. His hand latched onto the door handle and he pulled it open before his hands reached out to wipe your face.

“Everything’s gonna be ok. I love you.”

He stoked over your locks.

“I love you.”

You didn’t respond from your upset state and Goo nodded to himself, seemingly growing more pissed at the situation before he ruffled your hair and put your baby blue, cat eared, multicoloured LED lights beats over your ears before closing the door.

————————————

Goo’s POV:

The leather wheel clenched under this hands as he squeezed the wheel, letting out a groan of protest.

“Calm down.”

“Fuck off Gun.”

Gun’s glare shot to Goo’s clenched jaw as he drove, pissed off.

“Breaking your fucking car won’t fix shit.”

Goo let out a low growl.

“Fucking kids. Kids, Gun. Fucking kids cut off half her head!”

Gun spoke low.

“Calm down, don’t let her hear you. She already had to go through it.”

Goo ran a hand over his face while seething, his glasses pushed up to his head.

“I need to kill someone.”

They were both at a loss.

Goo’s eyes flicked up to see you asleep. The beats he brought you gleaming a rainbow light, but the uneven hair length once again pissed him off. Part of your scalp visible.

He spent ages, ages growing out your hair. He loved how you’d look like a tiny fairy. Long hair he’d design into styles that you’d pick from Pinterest and he’d search and practice for hours on tutorials.

Happiness.

Fucking wasted.

The helplessness stumped them both. Gun itched for a cigarette but the child in the car left him chewing strawberry gum instead. Meanwhile your big brother resisted the urge to traumatise you by smashing his head on the wheel and waking you up in the process.

“What do I do?”

Gun glared out the window.

“You could try suing.”

Goo’s jaw clenched.

“Be fucking for real.”

Being criminals only stumped them both.

“I could hire kids to kick their asses.”

Goo almost agreed before realising it could link back to his little sister and chose not to answer.

Gun sighed and swallowed his gum.

They were stumped.

————————————

Goo’s hold on the longer side of your hair left you anxious, upset, all the negative feelings your mind could muster. He evened it with his fingers as he measured out the new length, needed for it to look even.

“Here we go princess.”

A snip sounded and Gun sat in the corner, his elbows rested on his knees, seeing you now sporting a slightly long pixie cut.

“…..looks nice.”

Your gaze drifted from Gun’s scarred but grinning face. The grin he did once he found something interesting.

A slight ‘Hmpf’ sounded from the corner before your eyes darted to the pink haired idol sitting on the couch in the corner. Watching the whole ordeal as support.

“You’re making me jealous now.”

You blink before looking at your brother who was smiling.

“I gotta say, if I wasn’t in…..’business’ I’d be doing this.”

He shakes out your short hair with a grin.

“Let’s make it blonde and we both can look like flash Gordon-“

“For god sake Goo- she doesn’t need your Jeffery Dahmer hair colour.”

———————————

Goo walked you to class, his big hand engulfed yours as the man had heavily insisted on walking you in, regardless of the bumbling principle denying it.

Your class room was full to the brim before Goo walked you to your desk. Some of the kids watched in curiosity as the man sat you down. His blue, expensively branded suit and golden tie, stood him out like a sore thumb.

He took out your books for you and pushed your bangs out your face before speaking to you in a soft tone.

“You gonna be ok?”

You nod.

“I love your hair.”

A whiney and shrilly voice spoke out and Goo’s head snapped to the little girl with blondey hair and a very mean word of a smile he wanted to scream at the girl.

“It’s so pretty.”

She continued with a taunty voice. You swallowed and instinctively looked down in shame. The teacher’s voice barely made a difference from the lack of her care of the bullying…….

Goo’s jaw clenched as a visible vein popped out. No wonder this shit happened.

He stands and walks around a few desks before aggressively spinning the girl’s desk and throwing a fire extinguisher so close to her head that her blonde hair was scathed. The wall behind her was broken through once the fire extinguisher broke through.

The girl’s scream silenced once Goo’s glare stayed on her. And the teacher stood in fearful shock.

Goo only walked to the desk and roughly spun in back into place. Leaving her traumatised and frozen. Good. Goo thought to himself.

His steps echoed along the stairs of the school as he sent a grand into your bank account with a small message of: ‘buy yourself something nice.’

He proudly put his hands in his pockets before heading off with a happy whistle and little jump in his step.

Meanwhile you sat there. A sudden and loving realisation that maybe……you were loved.

(Yes I copied that one movie scene I forgot the name of the movie too-)

[abiatackerman]

Saviour

Event: @levievent "Levi month 24"

���️ Day 8: Royalty AU ⚔️

Alternative Universe! Knight Levi X Earl Daughter Reader! Childhood sweethearts! First love! Fluff! Flashbacks! Several time slips! 2K words!

🎨 Artist: @rodio_se_mis on twitter! 🎨

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

It's cold.... So cold that if the sharp wind somehow touches your skin directly, it will freeze your blood circulation. Due to this horrible weather, everyone is staying inside their houses, warming themselves up and chattering with their families.

Except for one kid.....

A kid, who looks like he's probably six years old, is walking pathetically against the angry wind, wearing nothing but a dirty cloth and blanket. Nothing is coming out of his mouth other than "Save my mum". He desperately tries to walk but the wind gets angrier and crushes against him with full force making his weak slender frame fall on the snow covered road.

The kid sighs and looks up at the sky which cannot be seen anymore due to the snow. The kid's been so scared from the moment when he noticed his mother wasn't responding to him. He couldn't even think that she has died. She can't because she knows he has no one in this world without him.

The kid has tried, tried to call for help but it seems like no one could even hear his weak knocks or sobs due to the intense blow of the sharp-cold wind. But he tried his best, ignoring his hunger because saving his mum was the most important thing.

But now, he has given up.

He sighs again, closing his eyes. Losing all his strength, he just lets the cold wind and snow devour him until......

"Wake up... Please wake up...."

A gentle melodic voice tries to wake him up and something warm wraps around him, pulling him out of his fainted state. He opens his eyes and stares at someone unknown who's crying but smiles immediately when he opens his eyes.

She's a kid, just like him.

But prettier, wealthier, healthier. Her clothes and face tells that......

"Down to earth, knight Levi!"

Levi blinks to push away the traumatising memory and smiles at the beautiful girl who runs towards him and hugs him tightly.

The girl, who saved him that night. An Earl's daughter who is as kind as an angel and luckily was passing by Levi and noticed him from her carriage. She was only four years old back then but still she stopped the carriage and jumped out of it, ran towards Levi and hugged him tightly. She was crying and trying desperately to save Levi.

Well, he was saved but his mother wasn't. She was gone long before Levi could even realise....

"Your mother is probably so proud of you! You have awarded as the best knight of the kingdom! I'm so proud of you too!"

Your eyes tear up with happiness and you hug Levi tightly, burying your face in his neck. Levi chuckles and caresses your hair.

You were always like this, kind and soft. Levi remembers how you cried when the doctor of your family declared that Levi's mother was gone. How you begged your dad to adopt Levi. And luckily your dad was a kind Earl. He took Levi under his wings, made arrangements for his studies and sword training. The results? He has become the best knight of the kingdom.

"It's all because of you."

Levi says softly as you wipe your tears and look at him.

"Right, I taught you how to use swords... So funny, Levi."

Levi smiles softly as he cups your face in his hands.

"Because you saved me that day."

You smile widely and hug Levi again.

"Do you know what it means? You'll be working for the king from now on. You won't stay with us anymore."

You sigh and remove his hands from your cheeks.

"I'll miss you so damn much."

You mumble and Levi sighs. Of course, now that he has been selected as the strongest knight, he has to work for the king's safety. In other words he'll become the king's bodyguard.

He doesn't want that! He doesn't want to leave your side. You're his saviour, his first friend, his angel, his one and only love.....

"I can deny the king's invitation if you...."

Before he can even finish his sentence you stop him by placing your hands on his mouth. You smile.

"No way! I want you to become the best knight ever. You'll make me proud, right?"

You remove your hand from his mouth and he smiles softly.

"Is that even a question?"

⚔️Time skip⚔️

"Congratulations, Levi. You've done a great job again. Your fighting skills are amazing, we have won this battle too."

The king pats Levi's shoulder proudly as Levi kneels down in front of him. The king smiles.

"Rise, my knight. I have something to discuss with you."

Levi stands up and waits for the king to speak.

"Well, it's been almost five years, right? You've been away from the earl's territory? Why don't you go and visit them?"

Levi's heart thumps with excitement. Going back means he'll be able to see you. God, it's been so long.

"If that's what you want, your highness."

Levi speaks in his usual calm voice and the king nods. He sits one of the royal chairs made for him and sips his wine.

"Also, I want you to deliver a news to that family. I want their daughter as my brother's wife, they'll be a great match."

Levi blinks. The king wants you to marry the crown prince. Levi has spent a lot of time with the crown prince since they're both share same age so he knows that the crown prince is a nice person. Though he's a bit rude and dominating, he respects women and moreover Levi knows he'll treat you well. And knowing both of you, he can't help but agree with the king that you both will make a great couple. You both will like each other.

But why is his heart aching? Why does he want it not to happen? He's not a person who has anything to say here. After all it means you're well. Then why?

Only because he's selfish. Because he loves you. Because he doesn't want anyone else to take you away from him. But he also knows that he has no rights to keep you to himself. He should egarly let you marry the crown prince. He should let you be happy and safe. He should return the favour of you saving him.

He smiles bitterly in his mind.

"As you wish, your majesty."

⚔️ Time skip ⚔️

The more steps Levi's horse takes towards your mansion, the faster Levi's heart beats. It's been so long since he last saw you... He can't wait to see you again. You're probably prettier than before, smarter than before, sweeter than before!

But the question is do you still share the same friendly feeling you used to back then? His heart aches with uncertainty as he rides his horse faster.

Doesn't matter, you'll get married to someone else anyway.

The huge gate of the mansion opens as the guards bow respectfully at him. Some of the maids look at him secretly and drool over his handsome features. He gets off his horse and hands it to one of the guards as he walks towards the main entrance of the palace. His steps are firm, his aura is clearly showing off his confidence and strength. But everything vanishes when he sees you.

You've gotten taller, so is your hair. You have become more womanly, your curves are more attractive than before but that doesn't matter.....

He stopped in his tracks because you're currently running towards him, with tears in your eyes, smiling sweetly as ever as you jump on him and hug his neck tightly.

"Levi!"

You breathe heavily, burying your face in his neck not caring about the pain you're feeling because of crashing with his armour.

Levi's arms instinctively wrap around you as he breaths heavily, filling his nostrils with your scent. He chuckles, after such a long time.

"Don't hurt yourself, doll. I'm dangerous."

He says and pulls away from you. You chuckle widely.

"I don't care. Anyways, let's go inside. You must be tired."

⚔️ Time skip ⚔️

Levi keeps laying on the bed silently as he keeps looking up at the ceiling blankly. He has already informed your parents about the king's proposal and as expected they're happy about it. Levi doesn't know if you're happy or not because he didn't see your reaction, he just talked to your parents.

He sighs and sits up on the bed. His body is bare and he absent-mindedly caresses the scar on his chest. Suddenly he freezes as he hears his room's door opening.

Well normally Levi would have been attacked the person by now but it's your footsteps. He's very familiar with this sound because when you guys were younger it was a regular thing for you two to sneak into each other's room. He chuckles.

You enter his room with a sweet smile and close the door. Levi's breath hitches as he notices how sexy you look in the nightgown. The last time he saw you, you were sixteen. And now you're 21. Youth has done a terrifying beautiful thing to you, giving you a dangerous body which every man craves.

Levi notices you eyeing his bare body as your cheeks flush a little. And his own intense stare isn't helping either. He can tell it's rising your hormones up.

"You shouldn't be here."

Levi says calmly as you glare at him.

"Oh yes I can be! It's my mansion. You're the guest!"

You say in a firm tone and sit on the bed. You wrap your arms around your legs and place your jaw on your knees.

"What's wrong?"

Levi asks worriedly. He hasn't forgotten, it's a pose you make when you're sad.

"I don't wanna marry the crown prince."

You reply weakly.

"I wanna marry you."

Levi freezes. His heart starts to beat fast and his brain goes blank. He never expected you to have feelings for him so he doesn't know how to respond.

Though this is the only thing he ever wanted.

"Hey Levi...."

Levi blinks as you call his name softly. You smile and lean towards him.

"I've always liked you, you know.... You're my first love but... I didn't stop you back then because I didn't wanna be selfish. I have always wanted your well but...."

You take a deep breath and look into his eyes.

"I can't marry someone else when I love you. How can I be that unfaithful? But I'll totally understand if you don't have the same feelings......"

Before you can finish your sentence Levi presses his lips against yours, suddenly but gently. He grips your neck softly, tugging you towards him. He whispers against your lips as he keeps kissing you softly.

"I fell in love with you at the first sight, y/n. But since I was young it took me some time to understand the feeling. I'm only alive because of you, and I worked hard only because I wanted to be perfect for you."

He pulls away as he tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles.

"I didn't say anything because I thought I'm not worthy enough. Also I never imagined you would share the same feelings. I always wanted your well too. That's why I thought about burying my love for you and letting you get married to the crown prince but....."

Levi leans forward and whispers in your ear.

"Now that I know you love me, there's no going back. I've always fought throughout my life and I'll fight for you."

He says and presses a soft kiss on your neck making you shiver.

"Then let's run away.... Save me from this situation."

You whisper and hug his bare body.

"My family will understand. The crown prince is nice so I hope he'll understand too.... I'll write them letters. But for now.... Be my saviour, take me away from here!"

You plead, cupping his face and he kisses your palm. A smile creeps up on his face making you shiver in anticipation.

"As you order, my princess."

[riongeee]

Hearr me outtt

Sebek (After malleus OB(that ended vry badly)) goes back in time, BUT not at the start of the year. He goes back in time as a child (4-8 y/o).

Like, he regains his memories thru a dream, he wakes up screaming and crying. His family js thinks that he had a nightmare or smth.

Now, he's trying to better himself. He's studying rlly hard (particularly abt overblots), and trys to be nicer to his father.

When he gets into NRC, he expects to get into diasomnia. Instead he's sorted somewhere else,

What dorm do u think he would end up in?? I was thinking ab this for a while,but i cant rlly decide..

Pls bestow upon me your divine wisdom, oh wise one 🙏🙏

Me + dorm swapping Sebek is basically my whole thing now (I am not complaining >:D)

So, assuming this, Sebek has gone through some absolutely traumatising stuff before being stuffed into his child body. Perhaps the reason he went back in time is actually because either he or Malleus die. (Malleus because maybe it caused a huge burst of magic...enough to send Sebek back)

So 6 year old Sebek wakes up absolutely in shambles, he watched his whole life play out and end.

Because of Sebek and his personality, I think he'd blame himself, maybe for not being strong or smart enough to protect Malleus. So he throws himself into studying, improving himself. His parents are worried about him but Sebek just drives himself into the ground studying and training in an endless loop.

Eventually, it gets to the point he is physically and mentally exhausted, maybe Sebeks dad thinks this is a result of the bullying he received for being half fae and just breaks down in front of Sebek. He thinks it's his fault his baby is hurting himself. This leads to Sebek seeing how hurt his family are by Sebeks self destructive behaviour and he breaks down in tears too. In his past life one of his main regrets was how he treated his father so he seeks to remedy it in this life.

He then decides to bring the whole family closer. Although his grandfather wasn't the nicest he still cared for Sebek and Sebek remembered that. When nobody else in his family understood Sebeks personality, Baul understood. So he doesn't want to die and leave his family on strained terms like in the last life.

Atleast if he dies again, they'll have eachother.

So through, some hard work , Sebek brings the family closer, he still has little to no friends, as unlike the last life he has still not been sent to Lillia for training(Sebek dreads seeing Diasomnia again).

When one day Baul asks if Sebek wants to train with a person Baul knows, he almost says yes before hesitating, he had never been as close to them as they were with eachother, so, if in this life he watched from afar..... maybe things would go better? (He ignores the way his hands tremble at the thought of seeing Malleus again, he nearly envisions the sound of tearing flesh before snapping back into reality).

So Sebek continues his efforts, he studies and trains like a man possessed.

When the day comes for his sorting ceremony Sebek doesn't look up until his name is called.

He doesn't look back (perhaps if he did he'd see Lillias anguished face, deapite not knowing the first year he feels as if he does)

So Sebek steps towards the mirror. Knowing.

"Savanaclaw!"

His eyes widen.

>:)

Okay so a few explanations of some of the details.

I'm rolling with the idea that Malleus died while overblotting and the sheer amount of magic reversed time.

Only Sebek fully remembered what happened (for now...) whilst others may feel deja vu or get flashbacks. Which is why Lillia feels something at seeing Sebek despite technically not meeting him. (For max angst potential everyone else slowly regain their memories and start to investigate why Sebek is so different)

Also Savanaclaw because it is the dorm of persistence and Sebek is persistent on improving and avoiding the outcome he saw. (Could also work with other dorms but I think Savanaclaw or Pomefiore are best for this).

Might expand on this but idk

[tinky-dinky]

I hate when I’m reading a good fic, then it’s ruined by a shitty defense of the Robins and the narrative acting like the shitty defense is right.

‘They chose to be Robins!’

They were children; they were not capable of making that choice and should not have been in a position to make it.

‘They needed Robin!’

Nope. A traumatised child (whether that be by the death of their parents or by abuse or homelessness) needs therapy, not to be dressed in brightly coloured spandex and taken to fight criminals.

‘They would have gone out anyways!’

This just makes Batman look like a moron. 8, 10 and 12 year olds are not capable of outsmarting or out fighting Batman. Bruce could have and should have kept them at home. It’s called parenting.

Ugh.

[andrew-03-minyard]

sometimes it hits me that everything happened to jean in 4 years and I just have to take a breather. like I forget he didn’t get sold at the age of 7-8 but instead at 14 and he’s currently only 18. so all the horrible and heinous things that have been done to him to leave him traumatised and suffering with ptsd, forever altering the way he thinks and even views his identity and place in the world, was all done in four. short. years. yes you can argue in raven time that’s about 6 years but even then just consider the way everything about jean was reconstructed in that time AFTER 14 years of living in freedom. i’m not saying it’s not possible, it does happen and way too often in this world, i’m just saying it’s so scary to think about. like say with kevin, neil, andrew, aaron, just to make a few, their lives were turned upside down from either birth or at around 7 years old, but not jean

[damianwaynesutilitybelt]

Hey maybe stop labelling any of the robins as the 'angry robins"

Damian and Jason were both victims of horrific child abuse so idk had every right to be a little angry at the world.

(Obviously the angry robin Jason has been ooc from his original writing at robin days. I know I know BUT 'he was so angry' yeah was a victim of neglect, growing up around watching his mum chose drugs over him and OD several times. So fucking what if he struggled with his emotions he was a child. That doesn't make him the angry robin)

"Dick was the angry robin " YE AH? HE WATCHED HIS PARENTS DIE IN FRONT OF HIM. Also all the trauma of being the first child, Bruce literally learning how to be a parent with an actual 8 year old (- depends on the version whatever around that age) Bruce trying desperately trying to stop Dick from becoming himself.

They were fucking traumatised children, putting them in these little boxes is dangerous. I say this time and time again you can not label the batfamily. They're not characters you can just go this is the nerd, this is the angry one, this the leader and the funny one.

They're very complex characters. there was no angry robin.

[nicherayyy]

ok. i have the most amazing idea. child reader, but they're from south park and hung around stan's group all the time before moving. (the list of crimes is astronomical, just like cartman and them). basically la squadra and south park! child! reader. bonus points if they have immortality like kenny

Anon you are genius!! And South Park is literally one of my fav shows

TW: cursing, mention of really disturbing crimes and cannibalism (not from reader's side ofc) but it's South Park so there's nothing to be shocked with

La Squadra x Child! South Park! Reader

No one in La Squadra has any idea how they ended up in this situation.. with you.. the most feral 8 year old they ever saw.

Risotto def didn't expect this, I mean, you're just a child, what can go wrong?

Everything.

Everything goes wrong.

At first he didn't even want to tell you about the whole assassin thing. Cuz you know, you're a literal child. You actually found out by accident, finding some random documents on Risotto's desk.

And the last thing Ris wanted was to scare you. He was about to explain himself and that whatever they do, they have no intentions to hurt you while you just listened, like.. it didn't even bothered you?

The only thing you said was:

"Dude I don't really care what you do for a living"

The poor man was too stunned to speak.

Prosciutto HATES your cursing habit. Sometimes he thinks you're an old sailor that saw some things, not a child. You've got a bigger vocabulary than the whole La Squadra combined, I'm not even joking.

He tried to make you stop cursing, he really did.

Pros, in fact, didn't succeed.

"Oh fuck"

"Language"

"Shut up old fart"

"What did you just say??"

Yeah, he can't do this anymore.

Poor Pesci is terrified. How can a child be like.. this??! Children must be naive and innocent, but you?? Ohhh you're the other case.

You actually find it funny that Pesci is so scared of your stories about your old times in South Park. Pls stop traumatising him.

And you're just telling this at random times, which scares him even more.

"Oh, that's a nice chili, I remember my friend ate something like that once"

"Oh.. was it with beef too?"

"No, it was with his enemy's parents"

"WHAT"

Can I just say no one ate chili that day?

Illuso thinks it's amusing, really.

"I'll pay 200 lira if you go and say all curse words you know to Formaggio right now"

"400 lira and we have a deal"

But I won't lie, your stories are scaring him sometimes.

"You know I died once"

"Eh??"

Sometimes he thinks you saw more than him.

Formaggio really likes your stories. But one small issue, he thinks that most of your stories are a joke. Because how can an 8 year old saw so many disturbing things? Of course, it must be just your imagination.

Oh how wrong he was.

"I once was arrested for starting a Peruvian flute band with my friends"

"Haha, yeah, nice"

"And the government sent us to Peru"

"Of course, I believe you"

Actually, Melone is more interested in all your "I died once" thing. Like how?? You just rise from the dead?

"Dude, chill, my friend literally does the same"

So there's another immortal child?? What are you two, Jesus??

"I don't know it's because of some shitty cult I guess?"

"What cult??"

But anyway, he's interested in you in scientific way and doesn't care much about your little crime stories.

Ohhh, Ghiaccio and you are buffing every day. Morning, day, and night.

You just take any opportunity to piss him off. One day for example you pronounced your words wrong (he still remembers that).

Or you can start an argument with him about anything. No matter how small it is. The whole team now tries to distract you so they won't hear Ghiaccio's screams.

"Would you ever stop being so annoying?"

"I don't know, would you ever stop being such a bitch?"

And there it goes.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

EDDIE MUNSON HCs P.1- sfw

---------------------------------------

just some headcannons i have for our boy <3 (I'll make a nsfw version tmr)

----------------------------------------

Eddie hates being alone, he was always left alone at home as a kid, His mum working her second job in late afternoons and his dad leaving to get drunk at the local dive bar. it just makes him feel neglected and brings him back to his childhood self's feelings.

I think we all know this guy has a massive snoring problem, but he also kicks you off the bed, hogs the blanket and talks yells in his sleep, sometimes even slaps you in the face when he turns around.

^ he also has terrible nightmares sometimes, waking up in sweat after his dad beat him up in his dream, almost brought to tears as he struggles to breath, during this he'll look around his room frantically and pat the bed, trying to grab or see anything comforting to him, just trying to calm down.

he bites his nails when nervous or anxious of something

he secretly sleeps with a Russ Berrie Bear named Ozzy

^ his mother had saved up money to get it for his 5th birthday, and even though its been 15 years, Eddie still holds onto it.

he'll help out the old lady that lives in the trailer behind him and wayne, usually with hanging close or look for her cat, and always turn down the money she tries to give him, but always accepts a slice of pie she has sitting on the sill

he loves caramel, he'll always have a caramel candy in his pocket or a chew in his locker

he's seen Grease over 10 times, he just won't admit it. he'll even mimic the lines.

loves bad and shit made movies, they make him laugh, specifically Attack of the killer tomatoes

at 16 years old, he claimed he wanted to be 'one with nature' and went 'camping' out in the woods by the trailer park, he came back and wayne had to hear all about how his body itches and he swears that he had fought off a racoon. never did it again

when he first started living with wayne, he believed that the mirrors were portals (cause he didn't have mirrors) and tried to run though the mirror in his new room, obviously it broke and he has a scar on his arm.

loves peanut butter- if he feels like a snack, he'll grab a spoon and just go to town.

if you were to ask Eddie what his favourite non metal song is, he'd laugh and say 'yeah right, as if', but if you were to ask him on a deeper level, he would say 'purple rain' by prince or 'Born Under A Bad Sign' by Albert King

^his mum loved blues music and one of the only memories he has of her is her dancing to Born under a bad sign in their livingroom and Eddie watched.

^ at the age of 16, Wayne had given Eddie a mixtape of his mothers, he plays all of the music when he misses her.

Hates pickles

Last time he wet the bed was at 8 years old. His dad made him watch the exorcist and the poor boy cried himself to sleep and woke up covered in pee, his nightmares have always been bad

he's good with a gun and shooting because his dad used to force him into hunting with him, which only ended up traumatising him.

hates coffee, he thinks this is too bitter

^he likes tea though, not his favourite drink but it's better than coffee.

[octoconbeware]

OCTOCON BEWARE: EVIDENCE POST

Link to the original post detailing the situation: https://www.tumblr.com/octoconbeware/774788083214385152

The original private ticket was posted on the 19th of January, 2025. The creator and moderators made the final decision to allow the pedophile to stay in the servers 8 days later on the 27th of January, 2025. Atlas, the creator of the app/bot, replied to my public post a little over 24 hours after I had posted it on the 6th of February, 2025, reversing the decision and banning the pedophile. Note that the pedophile admits to being 18 and abusing and traumatizing a 14 year old.

All images and image transcripts I was given permission to post are under the readmore. The identity of the user that reported the pedophile was censored.

transcript below of the pedophile's admittance of abusing a 14 year old:

one of em i was a dick tryna ghsot someone (i wasnt my head was just so full), one of them was appearanlty i sidestepped and had pedophilic intentions, (i did it on purpose so i wouldnt do it on accident at a later time) and the other one was. appearntly i severyly traumatised someone im super closeto???/ but theyahvent cout me ut and it pisses me off?????????????????

i purposefully kinda sought out a relationship one of our alters has with an alter in a minor system, and ditn stop them when it got sexual it was fuckin stupid a nd like. a planned idea to hurt my then friends on purpose, so i would not later do it on accident

good, please hate me/g i might actually cut contact w the person who told me i traimatised them because lautely theuve been saying a lot of stuff i dont understand. For example thwt splitting (bpd) is just like mania. And one of their alters is called "ticcy toby", has tics, but the body doesnt tic and never has?? only the alter does and forces into their chatting text?? which makes me uncomfu cool i dropped all my venting on u now block me cause im sus and manipulative and a pedophile i guess even thiugh i just turnt fuckin 18 a montj ago lmfao

gpod good* you have your morals right, thats good when both the alters are between 25-30 but the two bodies are 14 and 18 its not ok and ur right, good

transcript below of the private ticket and decisions made by the creator and moderators:

User: I don't want to be pushy but it's nearing 24 hours since I opened this ticket and presented this information that I feel is very time-sensitive. Could I get some sort of update?

Atlas: Hi! We're currently discussing this report with our team. We'll get back to you as soon as possible.

User: Thank you.

User: Any update?

Catharsys: Hi USER, I really apologize for the delay. We have been quite busy lately (entire team including Atlas). We are not ignoring you and we will get back to you ASAP.

Catharsys: Hi USER, we apologize for the delay since our last reply. After reviewing all provided evidence, we have concluded that this is outside our scope of actions. While we understand your discomfort, all we can recommend is to report the evidence to Discord directly and let them handle this. The reported situation is too old and complex for simple moderators on a Discord server to judge. We hope you will understand. Your continued discomfort with their presence is entirely valid, and we therefore encourage you to block them. Please let me know if you have any further questions or concerns, or if we are all set to close this ticket!

user: CW PEDOPHILIA // OFFICIAL REPLY FROM OCTOCON MODS! [below is a screenshot with the final decision of the server staff posted by Catharsys]

Atlas: We've reevaluated the situation and have chosen to ban this individual from all of Octocon's communities. Please don't hesitate to message me if you have any questions. Our decision to take inaction was mostly guided by the fact that both individuals involved were minors at the time of the incident, and that the incident occurred 3 years ago, but we now realize that the possibility of falsely banning someone is much less important than potentially putting our community at risk. As administrators of a mixed-age space, we have a moral imperative to protect our community's vulnerable - especially minors - and trust reporters who have genuine concerns for their safety. We'll do better.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Louise Perry

Published: Jun 8, 2023

When we get home from the supermarket, our two-year-old likes to assist with taking the groceries out from underneath his stroller and carrying them to the kitchen. He will pick up a carton of milk and heave it towards the fridge like an atlas stone. “Well done darling” I say to him in a pitch slightly higher than usual, “you’re being so helpful.” 

Of course he isn’t actually being helpful. In fact, he’s slowing down the process of unpacking and risking an enormous milk spillage all over the kitchen floor. But my goal is encouragement and kindness – he’s only two, bless him, and that carton is awfully big and heavy. 

My husband regards these exercises with more of a gentle briskness. “Thanks mate” he’ll say in his usual tone of voice, excising my white lie. In this, I’ve learnt, my husband is typical of other men. In a 2015 study led by Mark VanDam, a professor in the Speech and Hearing Sciences department at Washington State University Spokane, researchers outfitted preschoolers and their parents with recording devices to monitor social interactions over the course of a normal day. The mothers, they found:

… used higher pitch and varied their pitch more when interacting with their child than with adults. The fathers, on the other hand, did not show the same pattern, and instead talked to their children using intonation patterns more like when they talked to other adults.

As an instinctive speaker of so-called ‘motherese’ – that is, baby talk – I find that when our son mispronounces a word (‘tawtah’ for ‘water’ or ‘mulack’ for ‘milk’) I will automatically echo it back to him, while my husband will automatically respond with the correct pronunciation. These differences persist despite the fact that we share childcare almost exactly equally within our family. 

It turns out we’re not alone in this sex difference, and that it may well have some adaptive purpose. "We think that maybe fathers are doing things that are conducive to their children's learning but in a different way,” writes VanDam, “the parents are complementary to their children's language learning.” Mothers speak down to children, while fathers speak to them like equals – in combination, these two kinds of stimuli promote the development of adult language. 

The adoption of motherese is an instinct that, in its correct context, is both comforting and developmentally useful. But it can also, in some circumstances, be dysfunctional. And, as I have become more and more fluent in it, I have started to notice that motherese is no longer confined to the nursery or the classroom, but is now to be found also in public life. Not in its full expression – “have you got a boo-boo, honey?” – but in a more subtle form. 

I heard a lot of motherese, for instance, in the responses to philosopher Kathleen Stock’s appearance this week at the Oxford Union – a political event considered significant enough to attract commentary from the Prime Minister and rolling updates on the homepages of several national newspapers.

Students at risk of being traumatised by Stock’s mild-mannered, centre-left brand of politics were ushered towards ‘welfare rooms’ offering ear plugs, bottles of water, and snacks. “The Union has made the choice to amplify a voice that actively harms trans students, trans people and the trans community at large” wrote one student politician, “we’re tired of [the Union’s] refusal to listen to the communities they hurt” insisted another. It was as if Stock was a rampaging bully on the playground, knocking other children to the ground, and her critics were leaping to the defence of the persecuted toddlers. 

Witnessing the backlash against her, you’d never guess that Stock’s only sin is to offer a careful academic critique of the doctrine of gender identity – that is, the claim that one can become a member of the opposite sex (or some other identity category in between) merely by force of will. As she reiterated in her Oxford Union speech, to reject this doctrine is not to deny the humanity of trans people, but rather to balance their interests against those of other people, particularly women. 

But I am by no means the first to notice an unexpected feature of the crowds that formed outside the Oxford Union this week, and indeed all of the crowds that congregate in support of trans activism (now a regular occurrence, and not just in the Anglosphere). While the occasional acts of outright aggression are overwhelmingly committed by men, the crowds in general are mostly composed of young women. 

Polling reveals this to be a wider pattern. In the UK, women – and particularly young women – are far more supportive of trans activism than are their male counterparts. The same gap can be seen in US polling. The public figures who have received the most flak for their criticisms of trans activism are disproportionately women – I’m thinking not only of Kathleen Stock, but also of JK Rowling – and yet so, too, are the movement’s most devoted allies. This is, in the main, an intra-female conflict. 

But if trans activism poses a threat to women’s interests – as Stock and Rowling insist that it does – then why have so many women come out in support of it? I want to propose two explanations for this seeming paradox. 

Firstly, in socioeconomic terms, the women who have the most to lose from the disintegration of female-only spaces – prisoners and domestic abuse victims, for instance – are not actually the same women who are draping themselves in blue and pink flags outside the Oxford Union. This is a textbook example of what Rob Henderson has termed a ‘luxury belief’ – an idea that confers status on the rich, while causing harm to the poor. 

But then I am begging the question, because why on earth would trans activism confer status on the rich, or indeed anyone? This is where we come to the second factor: the extraordinarily well-documented differences in personality that have been observed between male and female populations cross-culturally. 

Note that there is a crucial distinction to be drawn between average and absolute differences. It is not true that all men or all women exhibit only masculine or feminine personality traits, in the same way that not all women are short and not all men are tall – rather, average differences between the sexes are obvious only at the population level. 

One trait on which men and women differ substantially is agreeableness. To put it bluntly, women are usually nicer than men – that is, they are “more nurturing, tenderminded, and altruistic more often and to a greater extent than men,” as psychologist Professor Yanna Weisberg puts it. 

This nurturing instinct often finds its way into polling on political questions. For instance, a typical study from 2017 asked 3,014 college students the following question: “If you had to choose, which do you think is more important, a diverse and inclusive society or protecting free speech rights.” 61% of male students chose to prioritise free speech, compared with only 35% of female students – exactly what you would expect from two populations that differ in this most crucial of traits.  

Don’t think that I’m bashing agreeableness per se –  it’s one of those personality traits that really does offer advantages and disadvantages all along the spectrum. Disagreeable people are often rude, but they can also be refreshingly honest; agreeable people are often pleasant, but they are easily taken advantage of. Think of agreeableness as motherese: soothing and lovely in the right circumstances, cloying and foolish in the wrong ones.  

The problems arise when an agreeable style of politics gloms onto a group that seems to offer plentiful opportunities for babying. Right now, it is trans people who have found themselves in the hot seat (or the high chair). For just one example of this babying tendency in action, observe the progressive response when then-66 year old Caitlyn Jenner came out as trans (a response parodied exquisitely in a South Park episode titled ‘Stunning and Brave’). When Glamour honoured Jenner as the magazine’s 2015’ Woman of the Year' – despite the fact that Jenner had not yet lived as a woman for a full year – I couldn’t help but hear the high pitched notes of motherese (“you look so pretty sweetie”, “well done that was very brave.”) 

Observe, too, the trans celebrity Dylan Mulvaney’s recent appearance on Drew Barrymore’s talkshow, which culminated with Barrymore kneeling on the ground, looking Mulvaney straight in the eye, and offering a heartfelt pep talk on self-love. Some gender critical feminists looked at this scene and saw a woman prostrating herself before a man. What I saw was a mother kneeling down to reassure a young child – for some bizarre reason, Barrymore was speaking motherese to a grown adult on national TV. 

At the risk of stating the obvious, trans people are not babies. Nor are they pets. They do not need earplugs and snacks to withstand an academic discussion, and they do not need to be spoken to like toddlers. Real two-year-olds may benefit from the gentleness of motherese. The rest of us need to grow up.

==

https://policyexchange.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/The-Politics-of-the-Culture-Wars-in-Contemporary-Britain.pdf#page=57

Women are more likely than men to say a trans women should be able to enter a women’s refuge, favouring this by a 36-32 margin while men oppose it 40 to 30. In fact, across all 6 questions pertaining to the trans issue (Stock, Rowling, refuges, gender identity, pronouns, teaching biological sex), women are significantly more supportive of the trans rights position even when ideology is taken into account. Women even exceed LGBT identifiers in their support for the pro-trans position on many questions.

Why? Is this not against the female interest? The likely answer is that women are more likely to be cultural leftists than men across most of the 25 attitudinal items in the survey. The inclination to empathise and care for groups perceived as vulnerable best accounts for the pattern. The result of the empathy dynamic is that the gender-critical feminist position, while intellectually prominent, is still a contested view among women. Indeed, the largest source of opposition to greater trans access to women’s spaces comes from cultural conservatives.

This isn't a war between men and women, as some would like to assert.

It's really a war between different denominations of feminism. Like Catholicism vs Protestantism. Or Sunni vs Shi'a Islam.

One thing that's hilarious and worth pointing out: gender-critical feminists will sometimes say things along the lines of, well that agreeableness was socialized into women by "the patriarchy" to make them compliant. Which means they're denying the same evolved sex-based differences that they started off defending. Like claiming to be a Catholic while denying transubstantiation.

Either sex-differences are real, and can explain different participation rates in physics and kindergarten teaching, different career priorities and trajectories (and thus, the mythical "pay gap") and different work patterns as readily as they explain differences in swimming, cycling and weight-lifting performance, making "the patriarchy" as unnecessary as a god is to the existence of the universe... or they're not, and the gender-critical argument goes up in smoke in the flames of social constructivism. God can't be both good and unknowable.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Tomcat Disposables (Will Wood)

Is there cheese in the great beyond/What's the moon made of?/Meet me there after I'm gone/Life gets short, our teeth grow long/Mind me not, and I'll/Mind my own, and my mind/Held the same light as the one in your eyes/Do I belong in right and wrong?/One dies alone, and why?/Don't know/Goodbye, so long

"Song is from POV of a mouse, wishing for someone to love and just to survive really. In the end the mouse is poisoned."

"This song. Is about a mouse. A MOUSE. it has no RIGHT being able to make me bawl my eyes out. so essentially will wood made friends with a mouse he found in his kitchen and was like feeding it and stuff. and his landlord said he had to kill it because mice carry diseases. so he had to set out a poison trap and kill it. and after he did so he wrote this song in tribute to it. it’s all from the mouse’s perspective and goes through the betrayal of being poisoned. ‘what’s the moon made of? meet me there after I’m gone!’ fucks me up so much you have absolutely no idea"

Real Life (Drawn to Life)

Faking it will make it better/Better than it was before/And lies could bring us close together/So I won't be lonely no more/Pretending it doesn't matter/Could help me pass the time/In make-believe he'll hide forever But this is real life

"(Spoilers for the game obviously) Picture this: You are 8 years old, playing a cute game about colouring in the world, where you draw your own playable character and platforms and all sorts of gameplay mechanics. All the characters are adorable little rabbit people. Then, at the very end, it turns out that the ENTIRE GAME was taking place inside the mind of a little boy in a coma, the villain was draining colour away to stop him from waking up, and the solution to all this is to DESTORY THE WORLD AND ALL ITS CHARACTERS to wake the boy. It then plays the end credits sequence with this song. The art style is really realistic all of a sudden, and shows a family coming home from a carnival and getting into a car crash in the dark that kills the parents, severely injures the sister, and leaves the brother in a coma. At the end, he finally wakes up, his sister hugs him, and there's a single shot of the two main characters of the game, revealed to be dolls they won at the carnival. This traumatised so many children that the sequence was changed completely in re-releases! TL;DR The song is about a sister singing to her little brother in a coma, trying to bring him back to 'real life' instead of the fantasy he creates in his head. This all happens at the end of a cutesy game made for children."

Real Life submitted by @mooseghost

[thewolffairytaler]

To become one, little sheep - part 8 | Thomas Hewitt x female reader

_____________________________

Summary: Fate is never kind to unfortunate souls. No matter how much good they have tried to put into this world, it seems to want to punish them again and again. Even now, as an era for Newt as a town has come to an end, many can not handle it as well as others. One supposed beast couldn't handle the news well, which ends up making him seek solace in his traumatised friend.

Warning: Suggestions of past sexual trauma, unsaid trauma bonding, and mentions of intimacy.

Parts: Nine, ten, & eleven.

The summer of 1969 bore the oppressive heat that Texas is notorious for, and inside the small office of Blair Meat Co, the rhythmic hum of the old ceiling fan barely chased away the swelter (Y/n), the petite woman who's now in her late twenties, busily typed reports at her desk, her thoughts often drifting to the tall, broad figure of Thomas, the butcher who had captivated her with his gentle demeanor and rugged charm. And she hadn't realised it until he had kissed her about a year ago. Ever since that day, their interactions just naturally became intimate when nobody was looking. One could say that they were flirting with each other, even though it wasn't the normal definition of it. The flirtation feeling electric amidst the cold steel walls of the slaughterhouse, her affection blossoming amid the sights and sounds of animals being processed around them. (Y/n) often found herself daydreaming about the possibilities their whispered conversations hinted at, even as the smell of blood and fresh meat clung to her skin.

That July, the air turned electric in a different way altogether when the Texas Health Board delivered shocking news: the Lee Bros was declared condemned. The declaration sent ripples of panic throughout the local community, but none were more pronounced than among the workers at Blair Meat Co. The shutdown rendered hundreds jobless, families shattered by the sudden loss of income, and anxiety hung heavy in the air. (Y/n) watched in dismay as the rumour mill churned—what about her income situation? Where was she and her uncle supposed to do? Move out of the little town she grew up in to find more opportunities? Her uncle wouldn't like that, he wouldn't like it at all. The boss had actually told her beforehand so that she could fill out the paperwork properly, but even so, it wasn't easy having that information on her shoulders when life suddenly decided to mess up her existence again

For Thomas, the news hit like a freight train. His strong hands, skilled from years of carving meat, trembled with a mix of disbelief and silent rage. His way of life at Blair Meat Co felt threatened, and he became increasingly withdrawn, lost in a world of despair over his family's uncertain futures. He's the only one in the family who could provide through heavy work, the only one young enough to bring in more money than what the farm work and his mother's gas station could do. But he was also uneducated enough to not have any job he wanted, and with a face like his, how was his family supposed to get by? Anxiety seems to be anathor thing adding to the conflict of his feelings.

(Y/n) noticed the change in him; he was so much more quiet now, and that says a lot, considering Thomas was a mute man. Every day, as she filed invoices and placed phone calls, she could see the turmoil brewing beneath his rugged exterior. Each strained smile from Thomas felt like a dagger to (Y/n)’s heart, and she wondered how she could pull him back from this dark place he had slipped into. The tattered bonds of their budding relationship strained under the weight of economic turmoil, and (Y/n) felt increasingly powerless as the summer days wore on.

On the last day, she sat at the boss's second desk chair as she observed the two men, the assistant sounding more nervous about the fact that their boss was basically telling him to tell Thomas to leave, since he was unspokingly refusing to do so. He was the only butcher who strangly didn't want to leave, while even knowing the man for about a year now (Y/n) could never fully tell what Thomas was thinking about. It was difficult to tell if it was because Thomas couldn't accept reality, or if his anger just made him want to take out his frustrations on the meat, who knows? But maybe those ideas were wrong, too.

"Uh, I think he likes it here, sir..." Uttered out the assistant as he sometimes wrote down a couple of things on his clipboard.

"Ain't no reason for that beast to be here, just get that oversized r*t**ed out of here." She didn't like that he used that word for him or used it at all, but she held back her tongue. She knew her place, even though he technically wasn't her boss anymore. However, her expression screamed disapproval, an unspoken reprimand that suggested she could not stand idly by as the boss belittled someone whose skills were superior in other aspects to his own. She knew the Thomas’s worth; she had seen him expertly carve and prepare cuts of meat, she had seen him sown, and doing creative activities. Her heart raced with indignation, not just for the Thomas’s sake but for the principle of respect and dignity in the workplace. Of course, it didn't do much, but he at least didn't tell her to mind her own business this time. The assistant just exchanged glances between the two, yet then he thought he needed to break the tension, so he made sure to ask their boss a question.

"Me, sir?" The gray-haired older man tore his gaze away from Y/n as he responded to the bearded man in a normal tone; "just you." The assistant didn't say anything to that, but it looked like he wanted to, as he then decided to quietly walk down to confront Thomas about him needing to leave. All three individuals watched as Thomas practically hammered down the cleaver to the meat.

"Hello, Hewitt. They're shutting down the place today, you know that? Cause I didn't tell you. We ain't packing no more meat." The shorter male slowly made his way towards Thomas as he still stood a bit away from him, only being able to see his back.

"Ain't killing no more animals, so... just leave the equipment, just go home now, okay?" But the oddball didn't do so. He just kept on cutting meat, as if he was ignoring him on purpose. But the assistant didn't get that, he saw it as a different action, and since he was already frustrated at the giant man, he didn't think twice about his next words.

"You got to get the hell out of here, you dumb animal!" Thomas’s movements halted. The knife hadn't hit the table again, being in the air as he lowered his arm instead. He turned his body around as he calmly walked up to the nervous man, who only let out a soft gasp. Rather than standing by with Mr. Lee and watching from the window, (Y/n) decided to get out of the office and try to speak with him. The moment she stepped out of that door and stood still at the top of the stairs, Thomas’s gaze went to her.

“Hewitt, please, I think it’s best if you just leave for the day.” She suggested gently, her tone polished and diplomatic. It was an effort to maintain professionalism amid the brewing storm of emotions. Their personal relationship hovered in the background, and both of them were aware that the moment was charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. (Y/n) recognised the darkness that had momentarily clouded Hewitt's gaze, drawn towards their boss with an intensity that suggested more than mere frustration. Catching his eye, she continued, “You don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.” Her words dripped with concern, an understanding that transcended their usual banter. As Y/n started going down where both of the men stood, she could see the flicker of something dangerous behind his icy stare — a slip away from composure that hinted at more than simple agitation.

Without hesitation, she offered out her hand, “can you give me the cleaver?” The suggestion lingered in the air, as if she were offering a lifeline in the sea of his brewing rage. She just hoped it would anchor him, pulling him back before he drifted too far into that dark, silent threat that had overtaken his demeanour.

"Please, Thomas..." She muttered under her breath so that only he could hear her, not wanting the assistant or potentially the boss to hear her taking to him so vulnerably. Thomas's gaze shifted between her and the cleaver. In that moment, he felt a flicker of something resembling reason. Perhaps she could de-escalate the situation. Gingerly, he loosened his grasp on the blade and allowed her to take it from his trembling hand. The assistant had his eyes widened whilst Mr. Lee looked only annoyed at the outcome. He should have made her go to the beast sooner, it would have saved him a lot of time. The assistant who wasn't as well aware that (Y/n) had this kind connection with Thomas had expected him not to do anything stupid, but he didn't expect him to be so... calm with the boss's secretary. Guess that Thomas had never been spoken nicely to a beautiful woman before.

Mr. Lee emerged from his office, the faint hum of fluorescent lights spinning around him as he stood once where his secretary was on the stairs. In a bid for control over the situation, Mr. Lee barked orders for all three individuals to leave without exception, his voice laced with a venomous tone that struck more nerves than it soothed. Even the secretary, whom he had trusted to help diffuse the situation, was not spared from his disdain; he dismissed her with a derisive wave, urging her to escort Thomas out as if she were a mere foot soldier carrying out his infamous command. This only served to further stoke the flames of Thomas's fury, igniting a primal rage within him that simmered dangerously close to the surface.

However, the female secretary refused to let the storm unleash entirely. Quick on her feet, she hugged Thomas's left arm, a gesture of a shield against his next impulse to confront Mr. Lee. Her voice softened as she spoke to him, her calm demeanour standing in stark contrast to the chaotic environment that surrounded them. She knew that behind the layers of anger and frustration lay a man pushed to his limits, and it was her determination to quell that storm before it spiralled into something far uglier. Yet as she held tightly onto him, the tension in the room remained palpable, a reminder that in the world they inhabited, the line between order and chaos was often razor-thin.

"Please," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly as she held him a bit tigher, "let's take a walk. You don't have to stay in this place." Thomas's eyes, a tempest of emotions—fear, anger, and sorrow—shifted toward hers, the weight of a tumultuous history seeming to bear down upon him. In that moment, she realised that behind his mute demeanour lay a storm of unspoken pain, a cacophony of thoughts that rendered him voiceless in the only way that truly mattered.

His hesitation was palpable, but as the silence stretched, she took a tentative step backwards, extending her hand as if inviting him into a world outside the noise he had known for so long. It was in this gesture that he found a flicker of trust—perhaps not in words, but in the sincerity that enveloped her plea. And so they began their slow stroll, each step deliberate, as if they were wading through a haze of memories and unspoken pain.

As they walked, the sun had not dipped lower in the sky yet to painting the horizon with hues of crimson and gold—which was a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that swirled in Thomas's mind. She was carefully leading him away from the weight of his family’s expectations, the stagnation of their once-bustling slaughterhouse now in painful future ruins. Her goal was to create a space where he could release the pent-up emotions he had suppressed for years. The pressure of what was expected of him as a son, a brother, a man was almost unbearable; the thought of his family’s disappointment loomed like an endless phantom.

“Thomas,” (Y/n) murmured as they reached a small motel, stepping inside its unassuming facade and away from the haunting memories outside. “I want to understand,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm as they settled into a modest room. “Talk to me; you don’t have to hold everything in.” But words seemed to escape him, trapped in a fortress of silence that had fortified over the years. Instead, he sat, head bowed, with tears cascading down his rough cheeks, the cries of a child echoing through the silence that surrounded them.

In that moment, something shifted; the mute man—a figure of fear—revealed the broken boy hidden beneath the layers of trauma and survival. The years of torment and neglect, the brutal upbringing at the hands of a family along with the townsfolk steeped in anger, terror, and warped love came spilling forth in a tangled knot of raw emotion. With each tremor in his body, he whispered the pain of a life lived in fear of his own humanity, of the rejection that had haunted him like a ghost. The loss of income from the slaughterhouse loomed large, but more significant was the gnawing fear of losing not just his livelihood but his place in a family that thrived on the very idea that he was forced to embody what he was, because he couldn't be anything else.

As she sat beside him in the stark room, the space between them transformed from a chasm of disparity to a sanctuary of understanding. She didn’t need eloquent words; her presence alone offered solace. Thomas’s tears spoke volumes—of his frustration at being misunderstood, the longing for acceptance, and the desperate need to escape the monstrous mantle he had been forced to wear.

“Thomas,” she spoke softly, her hand inching closer to his. “You’re not what people claim you to be. There’s so much more to you than what you’ve become.” It was a profound declaration, one that resonated deep within him, pulling apart the tightly wound ribbons of his being. It urged him to face the ghosts of his past, to embrace his grief rather than let it consume him.

The motel room, though modest and plain, began to feel like a cocoon where the possibility of transformation lingered. Slowly, between gasps of breath and clenching fists, there arose the faintest semblance of hope. He needed to confront his fears, the oppressive legacy of his family, and more importantly, the reality of who he was beneath it all. For the first time, Thomas felt a flicker of agency—a choice beyond of that chainsaw he came to like from a distance whenever he saw it at the slaughterhouse.

In the depths of their conversation, the complex threads of his psyche began to disentangle. He shared the paralyzing fear of being abandoned, and even though he couldn't explain it all. Through her patient understanding, he felt heard for the first time.

Thomas felt suddenly compelled to push down on the bed, pinning the female—a fleeting figure in the chaos of his existence—beneath him. She gasped, momentarily wracked by panic, as memories flashed before her eyes: her uncle, the terror he instilled in her, the profound helplessness of childhood fears resurrected in a time of horror. But this was different, she reminded herself. This was not a monster lurking under her bed but a man wrestling with the scars of his own existence.

As he enveloped her in an embrace—tight and desperate, as if fearing that the world outside would swallow them whole—her initial fright ebbed to concern. She sensed the tumult surging within him; there was an erratic cadence to his breath, a tremor in his grip that spoke of a lifetime's worth of pent-up anguish. Slowly, instinctively, she reached up to his head, fingers brushing through his hair as she began soothingly patting him.

“It's okay, it's okay, Thomas.” She murmured, her voice steady amidst the lingering chaos. “I’m here.”

It was a simple phrase, but for Thomas, it felt monumental—like a lighthouse cutting through the thick fog of desolation that had enveloped him for years. The warmth of her touch coaxed him to lean into her palm, a movement imbued with a tenderness he had forgotten existed. Yet even in this moment, grey fingers of fear gripped him. Who was he, if not a creature of carnage? The conundrum of his identity muddled with the comfort of her presence.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, the woman hesitated for just a heartbeat before her voice broke through the air again, softer this time. “Can I… take off your mask?”

She watched him closely, desperate for any sign of reprisal or anger, yet instead, his eyes shimmered with confusion, glistening as they caught the light for the first time. He didn't know what to say to that, but perhaps because he was so vulnerable in this moment. Thomas nodded, though a tremble of uncertainty coursed through him. She reached up slowly, her fingers brushing over the cold, hard surface of the mask that concealed his face. With uncharacteristic gentleness, she peeled it away, revealing the scarred visage beneath—augmented chaos etched into every crevice.

As the mask fell away, time seemed to stall; she took a moment to process the reality of his appearance. His skin was a ghastly shade of pale, riddled with deep grooves that told stories of suffering and survival. Yet, as her gaze met his, the initial revulsion that some might have expected from such disfigurement never materialised. Instead, she saw the soul behind the trauma, perceived the humanity lingering in the shadows of his eyes.

“You're… handsome,” she breathed, and in that moment, Thomas felt the world shift. Her voice caressed his ears, woven with sincerity, and those words reverberated like a gentle chime in the cacophony of his existence. Behind the grotesque features that adorned his face lay a heart that yearned for connection, for affection, for love. As the reality of her statement sank in, tears brimmed in his eyes — the floodgates of longing and need he had kept locked for so long began to spill forth.

In that fragile moment, Thomas realised he needed her by his side, not merely as a fleeting visit through the shadows of his past, but as an anchor that could keep him grounded in a world that seemed so intent on pushing him away. The connection he felt was primal and undeniable; he ached for her with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. In her gaze, he saw possibilities — of intimacy, of a life transcending the suffocating weight of fear and pain. She was everything to him, and each heartbeat echoed his yearning to hold her, to lose himself in the purity of her body and soul.

The lines between desire and desperation blurred as he leaned forward, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. In those moments, they laid alone together in the eerie stillness of the dilapidated building, a stark contrast to the cruelty of the world outside. He could hear the rapid drumbeat of his heart, each thud a reminder of his human needs, of his aching need to feel her warmth against him.

The look in his eyes was like a whisper, a familiar yet different all the same. She had heard about it, seen it for herself, both in films and in real life. But this was Thomas, her Thomas... he didn't look at her like the others. He didn't immediately want to take her. No, he was asking for her permission. It was both a plea and a confession — a raw declaration of his most primal instincts. To Thomas, the line separating love from lust became meaningless; it was all intertwined in that moment of longing. He wanted to be seen by her, to be held and loved despite the horrors he carried with him like shadows etched into his very being.

(Y/n), with her kind eyes, pulled his head towards her gently, closing the gap between them. Thomas could feel the warmth radiating from her body, an inviting heat that spoke of a glimmering light. It lent him strength, a comfort he had almost forgotten existed. Their breaths mingled in the air, heavy with anticipation as he reached out, brushing his fingers against her skin, tracing the delicate contour of her face as if she were a fine piece of art. He desperately wished to etch this moment into his mind—he wanted to remember every detail, every warmth radiating between them.

Thomas leaned in, letting his lips hover inches away from hers, his heart pounding. The world outside faded, reduced to a distant memory, as he sought affirmation in her eyes. Would she reciprocate his desires? Would she embrace the man beneath the scars and dark thoughts? Just when he thought the stark silence might engulf them, (Y/n) closed the gap, her lips meeting his in a gentle yet electrifying kiss. In that instant, the pain of his past melted away, surrendering to the intoxicating rush of connection and passion.

As their kiss deepened, Thomas felt himself slipping into a realm where pain ceased to exist. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, a compelling dance between desperation and hope. Their bodies aligned, fueled by an undeniable chemistry that transcended the ways they were different. He longed to pull her closer, to feel her heartbeat against his chest, merging their souls into a cacophony of pleasure and pain.

With every brush of their bodies, the world around them faded into oblivion. In the sanctuary of each other’s arms, they forged an unspoken promise of belonging — of a love that defied logic and societal expectations. And in that moment, Thomas understood what it meant to be alive, to crave another person in a world that had treated him like an animal.

What had begun as a lingering gaze and a simple compliment spiralled into a fervent connection as they surrendered to their desires. In the heart of this desolate landscape, amidst memories of fear and agony, a new story began to brew, one of love born in the unlikeliest of places. Together, they were bound not by the chains of their past but by need, passion, and the undeniable strength of their shared humanity.

Author's note: I was debating whether or not to make an anathor chapter about them having a romantic event, but I quickly realised that there was no need to do that. I had already made three scenarios of them enjoying each other's presence, and this is technically the fourth one. So I could just skip to the current timeline of the Texas chainsaw massacre: The Beginning.