#because its safe. im not in danger and im not having to think about when i was in danger and actually getting hurt.

[tikhondownichi]

That post about Prorva and Lamarr (love the HL reference) has got me thinking. Like.

Sebastian is not a good parent in any sense of the word. But in the circumstances given he is the only reason Prorva is alive when he could have easily killed her for food (as shown in your first few posts about her. Normal fish behavior), out of “mercy” (Urbanshade has never and is especially currently not a safe space for children or offspring). But he kept her alive, gave her his old jacket (weather its because he wanted to give her something special to him, wanted to keep her clothed, or even just wanted to get rid of the jacket is up for debate). But there is at least some amount of caring. I get the whole joke is Sebastian is a terrible dad and isn’t afraid of that fact but like. There must be something.

Im a sucker for angst so just. Something happens to Prorva. Not sure if in her current age or sometime while she was growing. Bad encounter with an Angler/Pandemonium, set off a tripwire trap, bugged turret, or just something that has Prorva hurt bad. Would that be a chance for Sebastian to show a more caring side? Im sure he’d mock her and complain about waisted supplies but like. If he fears, even for a second that she is dead or might die, would it show? Would Prorva notice? Would it affect their relationship as father and daughter? Is or would Sebastian be protective of her, even just a little?

Sorry about the ramblings. Im just obsessed with angst sjfbejfbdk

In fact, we should give Sebastian credit: he was able to raise a little bro in this godforsaken place where anything could kill you, especially a small child. In a place where you're always wondering what you're gonna drink and eat tomorrow so you don't die of stomach ulcers. In the cold and total unsanitary conditions, where if you catch a cold, you are very likely to die. We can berate Seb endlessly for what a bad father he is, but on the other hand, the basic parenting functions he performed: Prorva is alive, healthy, fed, clothed. Objectively yes, Sebastian has made a lot of mistakes and screwed up (a lot), but on the other hand he was sent to Hadal Blacksite barely a young adult, barely knowing how to do anything alone in this world, and now he's a 32 year old adult and he's a fish that has to figure things out on his own. It's crazy. He's understandable.

Yeah. Even though Sebastian is an ass most of the time, but if a situation happens to a gremlin that puts her life in danger - he won't stand by. Yes, Seb will be passed, swear a lot, probably mock, but he'll help (even if he says he's not going to deal with that shit). He can be caring (though he expresses it in his own way) if the situation really demands it.

For the moment, Prorva's whole life revolves around Sebastian. He's the only person close to her. She senses any changes in his behavior and actions, but his complex emotions she will not understand due to her immaturity. After all Seb is an unstable and complicated person.

It's okay, I enjoy reading and writing this kind of musings (especially if it's about angst) ( ´∀｀ )b

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[candyapple-red]

wild that freaky nasty sex and violent intimacy gives me a sense of self instead of like.. therapy giving me a sense of self lmao

[pepprs]

genuinely so angry and scared im shaking. how many other times this week this month this year have i been exposed without knowing it. do people even tell each other anymore. it’s just so grim. it’s so fucking grim

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[genderqueerdykes]

im just saying people don't get anywhere near as pissed off at me for saying that gays can be women, genderfluid, multigender or nonbinary as i do when saying lesbians can be men, genderfluid, multigender, or nonbinary. this isn't because lesbians literally can't be those things, this is because of rad fems and how many people are getting wrapped up into their rhetoric. this is because of lesbian separatism. this is because of "political lesbianism". it doesn't make it right. this is politically charged and has nothing to do with real lesbianism.

these beliefs aren't even being pushed by actual lesbians most of the time: most terfs and rad fems are not actually lesbians, but women who pathologically avoid men at all costs. most rad fems and terfs are NOT lesbians, but "political lesbians", where their stances on gender and sexuality have everything to do with regressive, restrictive politics and nothing to do with queer identity. they're just looking for a girl's club to join to bitch and whine about how much they hate men. this has nothing to do with lesbianism.

there's a reason i don't hear anywhere near as many people saying "female gays are invading the queer community and putting us in danger!!!" as i do people saying that lesbian men are an active threat to the lesbian community. this has nothing to do with the truth and everything to do with rad feminism, terfism and lesbian separatism. remember that the first targets of lesbian separatism were butches, cis trans or otherwise. this has nothing to do with preserving the lesbian community. it has nothing to do with doing what the lesbian community wants. never forget that the first people targeted by these individuals were butch, gnc, trans, and genderqueer lesbians.

this is just "women safe, men dangerous" at its finest. there's a reason why people are so much more angry and militant about lesbian men than there are people who are this destructive about female gays. yes people are shitty about female gays but the treatment toward male lesbians is so much more widespread and viewed as good and right. and it's not because that's what the lesbian community wants- it's because so many lesbians suck up to rad fems for approval. so many lesbians secretly think that rad fems and terfs are "right" and want their approval. so many lesbians suck up to those beliefs and espouse them because of how aggressive these people are, but just because they're firm in their beliefs doesn't make them right.

you don't have to behave this way about male and mascs lesbians, because none of this has anything to do with actual, real lesbianism.

[rainboww0lfie]

a ghosts graves

In the aftermath of a battle, Phantom, Batman, and Superman could be see talking between each other. 

During a lull in the conversation a tiny girl comes running from underneath caution tape taped around the vicinity, holding a bouquet of marigolds between her small hands. She’s out of breath and seems to be embarrassed when she stands before the heroes, Batman reacts the quickest to the sudden encounter. Asking her about why shes here and what the problem is, he’s about to ask about her parents when she interrupts with “i have something for mister Phantom”. 

Danny who had been only half listening was caught off guard, he looks at her and tries for a reassuring smile but his confusion must show through because she suddenly looks down shyly at her flowers. 

“I heard from mommy that you put flowers on graves for people you like, ” she starts, “i don't know where yours is though, so i got you flowers to put it wherever it is”. She’s obviously embarrassed about interrupting, but she says the words with a form of determination. Suddenly what seems to be her mother comes running from out of the crowd. 

“I am so, so, sorry for Miya, i didn't mean to loose sight of her, she slipped away, we’ll get out of your hair now. ” the woman says in a rush, gently tugging the child back from the slack jawed heroes. Danny can just make out her gently reprimanding the child for her behaviour when he suddenly steps forward. “Wait, wait, wait” he says quickly, crouching down to the child now hiding a bit behind the mother, “you got me flowers. . . so i can put them on my grave?” the tiny nod he gets from that has him smiling, “you wanted to put flowers on my grave?” is asked with excitement, gaining n even bigger nod in return. 

He takes a small step forward, still crouched, and asks “are you alright with me hugging you?”, the nod lets him quickly move forward a spin the child around in a tight hug, laughing. He smiles brightly at the girl, holding her in his arms with enough space to make sure the flowers were safe, who is smiling back just as brightly. Danny laughs, “no ones ever given me flowers before! And you want them on my grave!” the actions have gained the attention of both civilians and other heroes, Danny could honestly care less though, someone wants to put flowers on his grave! Someone went through the effort of giving him flowers! He is so excited!

Both the mother, Superman, and Batman all look uncomfortable, “have you. . . never gotten. . ahem. . Flowers before?” Superman asks, “i mean, you look young so. . . have your parents never. . . ?”, the ending never gets finished but its definitely implied what he wants to really ask. Danny doesn't care, its not exactly important, right?

He looks at the heroes and says cheerily “i don't think my parents even know im dead!” before looking back at the child in his arms, not seeing all the shocked, pale faced staring( minus Batman, he never emotes, like, at all). 

Eventually the kid has to leave due to dangerousness of the area, but not before a final hug and happy goodbye from Phantom after she hands the flowers to the undead hero. Danny says his goodbyes to the surrounding heroes, not understanding why they all look at him funny as he carries around the marigold bouquet before he flies off. He holds the flowers close to makes sure they dont get destroyed by the wind, but he cant help a few happy loops and twirls in his flight home. 

The first ever flowers for his grave, how exciting!

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

Ever since then the heroes and a few civilians make sure to give Phantom flowers each time they see him for his grave. Phantom is so excited people want to give him flowers each time a new set is given to him. 

________________________________________________________________

wooooooo ok

i finally actually wrote something after so long, sorry for the long break between shit, stuff happened :/

sorry if there's any big misspellings or anything like that in here, i had an idea and wanted it down as fast as possible and i fucking ran with it as far as i could lol

y’all can continue this if you want, i just thought this idea was so cute

have a good night/day/afternoon/life

[tojisun]

it takes a rampage (to be a dad)

!! fluff & angst; simon’s pov; simon’s insecurities; vague descriptions of violence; repeating allusions to past child abuse; parenthood; f!reader // wc: 3.5k // dividers by @/plutism!

a spinoff of the apple that rolled over to the tree

simon’s not a good man, but he concedes that there are just certain circumstances where you have to be the good man. where you have to bleed and burn through, and sacrifice a shit ton because that’s what being good is.

case in point: the child, who couldn’t be any more than two, bundled in his arms as the squad tries to come down from the adrenaline after a dangerously high-tension exfil.

“where,” johnny pauses, breathing deeply, quick fingers unlatching any tight strapping that’s making it difficult to gulp in air. “where ye dumpin’ the brat?”

it’s callously said, but they all know johnny’s meant it in a place of worry—which is founded, by all accounts, because the base is a terrible place to care for a two year old toddler. no one’s even equipped to deal with the boy, not with the mission still on its last legs; granted, the winding dregs would only require their captain, maybe garrick for backup, to finish but nothing is ever certain.

but—

the boy shifts on his lap, big brown eyes staring up at simon with unfathomable trust. like the sight of his mask, and weapons, and even having seen him in action—poised guns and clean shots on the head; unfazed eyes scanning the explosion of brain matter spilling he’s caused—was not petrifying.

simon knows what they say about ghost—the living boogeyman; the harbinger of death and destruction. and yet here the little boy is, looking up at him like simon isn’t anything other than man; like simon is something so human.

simon thinks about his place back home that’s dancing close to the outskirts of the city; he thinks about its picket fence and its brick walls and its big backyard.

he thinks about its love, forged from the softest hands that simon’s ever held; from the hands of the only one that simon’s ever loved.

“i’m bringin’ ‘im ‘ome.”

.

laswell was kind enough to pull some strings so that the boy has whatever legal documents he needed so simon can bring him back safely—passport, citizenship papers… adoption documents.

jacob emory riley. (yakov in russian. yasha.) he’s simon’s ward now. his son.

(laswell had congratulated him with crinkled eyes and the softest of smiles; it might just be the first simon’s ever seen her look so at peace.

somehow, it was that brief talk with laswell that made everything feel tangibly raw; simon realized that things got too real too fast, and that he found himself almost wanting to reverse everything he’d done so far because what if he wouldn’t be a good guardian to the child? what if simon’s too broken for the child? what if—

his thoughts stuttered, quaking until they reach a tentative halt because the boy closed his little fist around the entirety of simon’s finger. he was so small, like that, and still so blindingly trusting even with all the littering scars on his little arms and little legs. he held onto simon so fiercely, he didn’t even notice the turmoil in simon’s heart. or how simon had almost given him away in an act of his cowardice because simon is a coward. especially with this.

but jacob—

but yasha held him, chose him, and the storm raging in his head died down, petering into a quiet chill until simon could bite out a weak but not any less genuine, “thank you,” to laswell.

laswell stared at him, all-knowing as always, before bidding him and yasha a sweet goodbye.)

the boy responds better with the diminutive, all giggly and grabby hands as he toddles over simon. the rest of the squad had eased into their roles, battle-worn bodies turning into the softest cushions with yasha in their arms. he is a shy little thing, hiding behind simon’s leg whenever price would come visit, or refusing to be put down from simon’s arms or even make eye contact with mactavish when it’s his turn to babysit.

garrick was a different story altogether. yasha had looked at him once, studying with such inquisitive curiosity, before deeming his sergeant the safest after simon. he’d grumbled and cooed and begged for uppies—garrick had been all too pleased to give it to him.

which is why saying goodbye now is difficult.

yasha would not stop crying, pale face all blotchy and snotty as he wails, chubby arms thrashing, trying to reach for kyle, but the sergeant and their captain are already suited for the mission, ready to leave the moment simon and johnny and little yasha do.

“ky! ky!” he cries out, unable to fully say kyle’s name but trying so desperately because his grief is so much bigger than himself.

simon bounces him on his hip, trying to calm the little tyke down, but shrill wails pierce their ears, unstoppable, and he wonders if it was too cruel to have made him say goodbye to kyle and price. simon heard from the medic that it was healthy for children to cry, but yasha sobs like he is grieving, and simon can’t fault him—this is his first, and hopefully his last for a long while, experience of abandonment. sure, they’ve all told him that kyle would just be gone for a while, but yasha is a child, unable to reconcile such reality where his uncle isn’t flying home with him.

(they didn’t mention the fragility of their lives in their line of work; how, every time they suit up, there are chances that they’ll never return. yasha is too young for such reality.

‘sides, kyle promised to come back. so he has to.)

kyle is teary-eyed, so is mactavish, and simon presses his sorry’s and his reassurances on yasha’s inky black hair, while kyle makes a vow once more.

“don’t worry, son,” their captain croons, his face creased in the softest it has ever been. “i promise i’ll bring your uncle back in one piece.”

yasha sniffles, watery brown eyes not looking away. then, “o’ay.” he lifts an arm up, waving it cautiously. “buh-bye?”

“yeah, bubsy,” their captain replies because no one can, not kyle who is crying nor simon who can’t lift his face up from where he’s breathing in his son’s baby smell. “bye bye.”

“buh-bye,” yasha repeats, still quiet but more sure. “ky? buh-bye?”

kyle chuckles wetly. he steps forward and pinches yasha’s cheek. “bye bye, little man. see you in two weeks, okay?”

yasha hums, having grown exhausted from his emotional outburst. the base shrink said that’s normal for children; that it’s good when they’re emotional, it’s healthy, so simon bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from fussing.

instead, as a distraction, he nods at his captain and his sergeant, and he and mactavish turn to leave.

“daddy?” the little tyke asks.

“yeah?” simon replies, turning his full attention to yasha.

“buh-bye?”

“oh, son no,” simon murmurs. “daddy’s always goin’ t’be with you.”

yasha nods, and flops back down on simon’s chest, satisfied.

.

the flight was tedious, sprinkle the listless child with that, and it was just about draining. he couldn’t thank johnny enough for being with him throughout because being an uncle to tommy’s kids didn’t teach simon much about this—cranky and emotional two year-old’s, and their complicated tastebuds that almost made it impossible to feed them aeroplane food, and their odd sleeping patterns.

but as simon shoots yasha a glance, watching the boy sleep peacefully finally, he thinks to himself how it’s all so worth it.

.

johnny doesn’t follow them to prestwich, crashing instead somewhere in stratford before making his way back to dundee. yasha hadn’t cried as hard for johnny as he did when he said goodbye to kyle, but he’d been teary-eyed even when he refused to be given to his sergeant’s waiting arms. still, simon’s boy had been solemn and gave mactavish a weak wave.

simon tells yasha that johnny would come back in two weeks’ time too, with the captain and garrick, before trailing off when he realized he doesn’t know how to tell yasha exactly why johnny was giving them space.

shit, he hadn’t even thought about how yasha would react when—

the house appears past barren trees, and simon’s lungs constrict in one full swoop. god, he’s missed this place, very much so.

pinpricks fill the back of his eyes, and he desperately blinks them away as he tries swallowing past the lump in his throat, but not even the familiar warmth of yasha could ground simon back. rather, the reminder that simon’s not returning on his own this time makes everything feel a lot more intense, like ragged tendrils curling at the base of his neck, grasping him until reality and faraway dreams blend into something miasmic.

simon’s never once deluded himself with thoughts of having his own family. he once thought he’d go grey on his own, something he was perfectly fine with because nothing is ever sacred—the catholics had a word for it, johnny said, how one’s mere existence was the original sin, and simon is neither a pagan nor a believer, but when you grow up with shadows that are ever so perpetually haunting, you learn that not even the sign of the cross can truly ward off the demons.

but then, his beloved appeared before him—just as… fearful; as self-punishing as he had been, and he knows it was twisted but he had been pulled. he had been lulled into the weight of your gravitational force, dragging his heart until it was homesick for anything less.

(two words have never sounded sweeter to him before.

i do.

since then, he’s never hunger for more.)

(until yasha.)

the cab stops, the driver dutifully ignoring how simon must look, all brooding and emotional as he holds his child close, like if he blinks, someone would take him away. he tips generously, and declines any offer of helping with the unloading of bags in the trunk. simon didn’t even bring much, just a travel bag and a rucksack stuffed with as many travel essentials for yasha.

the boy is asleep again, exhaustion dragging him back to his dreams. he looks so peaceful like this, and younger too, and simon knows that isn’t a good thing because yasha’s so small for a two year old. simon’s only comfort is that he’s bringing him somewhere safe; a place filled with boundless love.

he walks to the front door, debating on whether he should just take the spare key underneath the nondescript potted plant to get in or just bite the bullet and introduce yasha to you like this, through the entrance.

the choice is taken from him when you swing the door open, surprise and disbelief lining your face.

“i saw you—” you say at the same time that he rasps out, “love—”

he beckons you to go first. you did so with a tremor in your voice.

“i saw you from the cameras,” you pause, roving your wide eyes over him, before stopping at the bundle he’s carrying. “haley helped me set them up—said you can, uh, get notification of movements outside and, and…”

he watches as you realize that you’re about to ramble, so you take a deep breath, finding the centre of your gravity, before, “baby? who…”

simon adjusts his hold on yasha, before a careful hand sweeps away the blanket so you can see the boy better.

“this,” he says, quiet and fragile. “this is our son, jacob emory riley.” he licks at his chapped lips, the word ‘our’ settling so warmly in the pit of his stomach. “our yasha.”

“oh,” you whimper instantly, tears already springing from your eyes. a choked sound gets stuck on the back of your throat before you’re rushing forward, careful to not jostle the tyke awake, until you’re pressing yourself against simon’s side, watching raptly.

“simon he’s—” you hiccup, rubbing your face on his shoulder. “darling, he’s perfect.”

simon ducks down to brush his lips on the crown of your head, humming deep because yeah, he is. but so are you—and he wouldn’t have done this, anyway, without you. because yasha deserved the best and simon doesn’t know anyone who could step up other than you.

you, who is so bright and joyful; who has crafted fortitude from the ragged shards of your pain.

you, who is the strongest person that simon’s ever met; how you could look at the storm and find a reason to dance.

you, who is so beautiful and lovely, and so utterly full of love that it spills into everyone you meet and everything you do.

yasha deserves you.

and, love, you deserve a family just like this too.

.

yasha wakes up and simon makes the mistake of not being there for him. he didn’t even know he accidentally slept in the living room, long body sprawled on the couch gracelessly. he jolts awake after the loud ring of cries, the fear he felt at hearing yasha’s familiar sobbing slams so fiercely into simon’s heart.

he topples to the ground, knees thudding against the hardwood floors, before he bolts up, frantic as he tears through the house, trying to find his boy, desperate to comfort him and to apologize and to make things right because he never wants yasha to feel so alone in his new home—

simon pauses, feet stopping just in front of the bedroom where you and simon had put yasha in since the guest room has yet to be baby proofed and prepared, when he hears your familiar croon.

“shh, darlin’. you’re alright, i promise.”

simon angles himself so that he can see through the ajar door. you’re kneeling on the floor, head a few feet away from where yasha’s is pillowed. the boy is staring at you with wide eyes, wet and red, but he’s no longer wailing, and simon wonders if it’s because yasha’s internalizing his fear, but then he sees the tyke make grabby hands at you—pudgy fists closing, then opening again. he seems like a baby like this, more than a toddler, and simon watches as you coo, inching closer, giving yasha room to roll away if he wants, but the boy turns to his side, facing you properly, and it’s all the confirmation you need to take him in your arms.

you rise up from the floor, yasha perched on your hip. the boy is still watching you, curious, and you murmur something too faint for simon to hear, before wiping at his wet cheeks and his runny nose.

“hi, love,” you murmur, voice a tad quiet. simon sees the hesitance in your gait, like you don’t know what else to say. it takes a heartbeat, before you’re uttering your name, voice curling around the vowels the way simon never gets tired of hearing.

“i’ve heard good things about you, you know?” you say, brushing the pad of your finger along the bridge of yasha’s nose. simon’s ears pick up huffing sounds, then your giggles, and yasha’s hum.

“oh, i sure did,” you add, smiling, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “simon said you’re the best boy ever!”

simon did, he guesses, say that but with more words—he told you how he found yasha, and how yasha had been so brave after such a stressful change in his life; how yasha had been so excited to learn and to trust, and how he’d brighten up everyone’s day back at the base; how yasha had first called him daddy, and the others unca’, his brave little boy so eager for a family that he made one even when all he’s surrounded with was a ragtag of broken men.

yasha is truly such a beautiful boy, so darling and loving.

“si-‘on?” yasha says, attempting simon’s name.

“yeah,” you reply, just as choked up as simon is. “simon… your daddy.”

yasha hums, fist curling up your shirt.

“daddy,” he repeats, nodding. then, like he remembers that simon isn’t there, yasha begins to look distraught again, whining, looking up to you like you hold the answer when he asks, “daddy where?”

simon takes that chance to walk in. you two whirl to look at him, both with pained faces easing up into the loveliest of smiles just at his mere presence. it makes simon feel… raw; that somehow, all he needs to be is himself, and it’s enough to brighten up the room.

his lips twitch up in his own smile too.

“hey there, kid,” he greets, slotting himself to your side so he can pull you close and be in yasha’s line of sight.

you turn, moving to pass yasha to him, but the boy’s hand is still tight on your shirt and he still looks at ease with you, and simon nuzzles his face on the top of your head in comfort when he sees the way your lips wobble at yasha’s easy display of trust.

“daddy!” yasha cheers. “you here!”

simon ruffles the soft tufts of yasha’s hair. “of course. did you nap good?”

yasha nods, distracted by the bright colours on the bed. the yellow pillows and the baby blue blanket.

the dog stuff toy.

yasha gasps, utterly delighted, and he wriggles out, begging to be put down, and you and simon watch as he runs to the side of the bed, plucking the toy out with a giggle.

“towy!” he says, showing it to you and simon.

simon files the name for next time, focusing on yasha as he runs to hug simon’s leg, then yours, before running back to the bed, chatting animatedly to the toy.

simon pulls you close, slotting your back to his front to bury his face on the crook of your neck, because this, right here, is change. but also, he’s home.

“i missed you,” he murmurs, because it is the only thing he can verbalize. he wants to say more—he wants to say how he’s never once stopped thinking about you, how he’s always kept a picture he has of you in his helmet, tucked under the crown pad, how he’d always toy with his ring when he has the chance because simon is made of many things, and one of them is your love.

but this is all that forms from his lips, inadequate, but then simon hears the twinkle of your laughter, and, “i missed you too, love.” and knows, there needn’t be any more words. not when you two have more time than he’s ever had the privilege to spend.

.

the first time yasha calls you his mom—“mommy!”—was just days before the squad was set to meet the riley’s in their residence.

it was a mundane day; you and yasha are in the living room, playing with his army of anatoly’s—towy—when yasha squeals, finally able to dig out his favourite anatoly from underneath the couch after futile attempts. you’ve asked him if you can help him with it, but he’d been so adamant, tutting the way simon does and it’s honestly so adorable that you let him have at it.

so you laughed at the sound of his happy trills, watching as he turns, running to you, saying, “mommy, towy look!”

he falls to your lap, humphing loudly and smooshing the turtle stuffie on your face, and all you can do is gather him close, trying not to cry in front of him but—

he’s called you mommy.

your little brave boy called you—

“mommy, sad?” yasha asks, readily giving you another treasure, saying the word so naturally like you were never anything else to him.

“no, sweet pea,” you reply, choked up with the weight of your joy. “mommy’s the happiest she’s been.”

you kiss his chubby cheek, breathing in his scent, before letting him squirm out of your hold so he can play with another anatoly, leaving you the turtle one. you hold it close, trying to ground yourself, but the happiness bloats and you feel floaty.

god, it is almost unimaginable.

(you tell it to simon later at night, and simon coos as he wipes the tears away from your cheeks.

“i’m so, so happy si,” you breathe out.

simon bumps his forehead to yours. “i am too, baby.”)

.

simon is not pouting, thank you very much. if anyone says otherwise, he’d like to go on record and say that they’re all a bunch of liars. yes, that includes his beautiful wife too because, again, simon is not pouting.

sure yasha has refused to detach himself from uncle kyle, but that doesn’t mean simon’s jealous, he swears.

“yer a lying scumbag,” johnny hisses at him because he’s been trying to get simon to admit that he’s jealous, which simon isn’t. “i’m on you, LT. i’m on you.”

“whatever ‘tavish,” simon grumbles, hands twitching at another hearty giggle that rings from where kyle is playing with yasha. “last i checked, the boy still runs away from you so, you know, start with that.”

“oh you motherfu—”

“boys,” price barked out, and simon and johnny cringe at the chastising voice of their captain. “language.”

johnny says something that no one picks up because he’s chewing on his words. simon sniffs, looking away only to meet your eyes. unabashed glee is bright on your face, and simon knows he would be hearing you teasing about this later on tonight.

simon scrunches his nose. you reply with a playful rolling of your eyes.

yeah, it’s a good day. and simon still isn’t pouting.

notes: it turned out to have heavier (?) parts than expected. also to clarify, yasha’s been picked up from a mission (the specifics were removed since things got a wee graphic). i’ve included a concept photo of simon and yasha, which was fun to use while reimagining! i hope u guys liked this <3 peace out and sm love mwah!!

[rikusahoge]

"But be safe. No reckless stunts."

On Sora and Riku's respective recklessness as showcased in the series, and what it means for their relationship

Under readmore because i am going to talk a lot

As an aside: Im going to be pulling from the Japanese text, though I am not a native speaker or really any kind of speaker, so take what I say with a decent amount of scrutiny. I'm more than willing to be corrected on these conclusions!

One line that has stood out to me in kingdom hearts is the repetition of "no reckless stunts!" and similar phrases. If you examine the original text, three slightly different words have been used to mean "reckless", which I'll include below (pulled definitions from Jisho, mostly)

無謀 (mubou): reckless, foolhardy, rash, ill-advised, mad (scheme)

無茶 (mucha): reckless, absurd, unreasonable, ridiculous

無理 (muri): impossible, unreasonable, unjustifiable

Importantly for what i want to talk about is how "muri" is used in situations where a character wants to express that something is impossible (think of a character giving up all hope due to an insermountable obstacle in front of them, they may mutter something like "muri da...") keep a pin in this, it will matter toward the end.

Also note that each of these words starts with "無" (mu), which usually means nothingness or absence of something. The definition of this kanji isnt super important, it's more important that its presence ties these three phrases together in a really unique way as i hope to demonstrate.

what i propose is that both Sora and Riku are depicted as reckless characters, albeit in different ways. The established pattern I've noticed is that Sora: "mucha" & Riku: "muri". I will tentatively refer to "mucha" as "rash" and "muri" as "impossible" (despite that it does also mean other things in some cases! bare with me it'll make sense)

Dialing back a bit, we have seen countless moments of Sora acting rashly. It is one of his key character traits and it tends to get him in trouble. He has a big heart, and is quick to anger.

Sora's response to loved ones and helpless innocents that have been put in harm's way is to repetitively bash things with his keyblade (and ask questions later).

It's Sora's rashness that allows Org 13 to use him to complete kingdom hearts. The extreme end of his rashness is showcased when he stabs himself to release Kairi from his heart.

Tldr. I think it's pretty well established and easy to argue that Sora is one to leap before he looks.

Now, Riku might be a little harder to sell as reckless, because of how well he tends to hide it. He carries himself as a role model for Sora, and tries to be the responsible friend. But if we look at his patterns of behavior, despite how he carries himself, he is quite reckless!

Without thinking of the consequences, he rushes the open door when destiny islands falls to darkness, eventually succumbing to it himself. He lashes out several times at Sora, particularly dangerously when he fires off a dark firaga in Hollow Bastion. He closes the door to darkness with Sora without knowing what would happen to him if he was trapped in the realm of darkness. When Sora is asleep, he sacrifices his form to defeat Roxas, without any assurance that he would ever be able to get his old form back.

We see Riku's recklessness too in the fight against Xemnas. He recklessly throws himself in front of Xemnas twice, hurling Sora away from danger and taking a very nasty blow to the hip. I'd count his dive to save Sora in DDD among these, mostly due to his risk taking behavior when it comes to saving Sora. Finally of course we see it in KH3, with his ultimate sacrifice. (but i think importantly, this scene isn't just recklessness, but I'll explain in a bit)

So tldr. Despite Riku's mask of level headedness and resolve, he has been shown over and over to take massive risks without caring for the consequences. Which is pretty reckless, in my opinion!

Sora and Riku's recklessness, mind you, is also called into question by Yen Sid, who tells Riku the reason he kept Aqua's fate a secret was to keep Riku and Sora from staging a "half-baked attempt at rescue"

He says similar in Japanese, but i want to just note the word he uses when he describes the rescue attempt as reckless (highlighted for ur convenience):

(the highlighted word here is "mubou", it will come back later in an Important way, so keep it in mind)

he's *basically* saying that if Riku, or worse, Sora, knew about Aqua, they would have recklessly marched into the realm of darkness to rescue her. Because he knows they are both ... Like that.

I would be remiss to not mention that Sora's impulsivity and recklessness is something Riku admires! After Yen Sid tells riku not to be rash, and Riku excitedly tells Mickey he's ready to help save Aqua, Kairi observes that Riku has changed, and he's more like Sora. Riku asks if that's a compliment, but I think it's clear that he feels it is. He says it's more Fun to just follow his heart, which is sora-esque. (;_;) This is also something he brings up to Sora when they're on the dark margin together, that he's jealous of how Sora can just follow his heart. It's clear Riku has started to embrace his more impulsive side, to follow his heart like sora does. This is important later!

So now that I have my premise Mostly set up, I'd like to highlight a handful of scenes that I thought were really telling about how Sora and Riku relate to the terms "mucha" and "muri", respectively.

Let's start with Sora and "mucha".

The first instance i have found "mucha" used is in Olympus Colliseum.

lets recall How Herc initially loses his power in KH2, and compare it to the movie.

In KH2, Herc is tricked into leaving the colliseum unguarded by capturing Meg and hiding her in the underworld so that Herc and Sora must go to her rescue. Hades sends a hydra in to destroy the colliseum while Sora and Herc are busy fighting heartless and Pete and rescuing Meg.

Upon seeing the destruction in the colliseum, Herc falls to his knees, and you can visibly see his colors fade to a more ashen complexion, similar to his appearance without his powers in the movie. He calls himself a piece of shit basically and Meg helps him up to limp to safety, leaving Sora to defeat the Hydra (ahem sora helping riku walk in twtnw after xemnas fight anyone)

(Herc even has a second journal entry for his Desaturared form.)

You leave the world after defeating the hydra and jumping up on its back a few times, and after sora d & g are named true heros. Yay. But Herc doesn't have his power back yet, which will later be addressed in the second episode.

Herc's loss of power is much different from the movie. In the movie, he agrees to let Hades take his strength for a day in order to keep Meg from harm, and release her from the contract she had entered with Hades (iirc). This was all so Herc wouldn't get the chance to save Olympus from the titans that Hades revives in order to take Zeus' throne for himself.

Herc still tries to wonderboy his way into rescuing the town, and fights a giant cyclops. While he lacks physical strength and gets pretty much Pummeled, he ends up beating the cyclops with his wit - but in doing so, a pillar is knocked over. It is about to crush Herc, but Meg pushes him out of the way, and is crushed to death.

She gives her life to save him, which in turn returns strength to Herc, because the contract was only good if Meg remained unharmed.

What I'm mostly trying to say here on this tangent is Herc's loss of power in KH2 specifically is very reminiscent of Sora losing his keyblade in Hollow Bastion, which is later echoed in the keyblade graveyard when he feels he loses his strength to fight after losing his friends. I bring up the movie to show how bizarrely different it is from the Kh2 plot, perhaps precisely to make the parallel between Sora and Herc stronger (and the parallel between Herc and Riku, by the way - Herc falling to his knees, losing his power, and giving up, only for Meg to walk him to safety, is a parallel to Riku losing his will to fight and press on after the battle with Xemnas - Sora refuses to let him and in the same Exact way he helps Riku walk on)

So Hercules, when faced with the impossible wavers, and loses his strength and will to fight. This is important so keep it in mind. Impossible/Muri isn't stated here as far as i know, but it's important that he is feeling utterly defeated and unable to win.

The second visit to the world is when we first see the term "mucha"/reckless used as far as I was able to find. Hades casts Meg into the Soul Hole and Herc dives in to save her without hesitating (mechanically to write Herc out of the boss fight, but)

We later see Herc emerge with Meg, his godly aura restored (he is Radiant!) something that *should* have killed him. and should have been impossible. But his desire to save her was so great, he recklessly dives in, without knowing that he will succeed. Luckily, all he had to do to prove he was worthy of godhood and power in both the game and the movie was to use the strength of his Heart rather than his fists, as a true hero does:

Sora scolds him and tells him not to do anymore crazy stunts after this reckless dive to save Meg (screenshot makes it look like herc is saying it sorry lol) and that is where we can see the term "mucha" being used in Japanese:

instead of crazy stunts, Sora moreso says "but don't be reckless (mucha)":

to which herc responds:

"people always do stupid things when they're in love" (note he doesn't repeat reckless, he says "baka" lol)

so here we have a direct link between herc's sacrifice when he dove in to save Meg, the restoration of his power/Godhood, and acting recklessly (mucha), without Fear or Doubt, to save someone he is In Love With. put a pin in this because it's all connected.

Now moving onto KH2.9 and KH3. From the start of the game we are told Sora has lost the Power of Waking, and his Entire goal in the game is to regain it, wake Ventus, and prepare for the battle in the KBG with Xehanort.

The Power of Waking is already a very vague, disney-esque power, essentially the power to free sleeping hearts from slumber (and first introduced to us in DDD, particularly in terms of Riku waking Sora up in a sleeping beauty retelling but I'm getting ahead of myself)

Yen Sid suggests that Sora go to Olympus for clues to regain his power, as Just Like Sora, Hercules also lost his power, but was able to regain it.

It's pretty straightforward, but in the interest of not making this post a fucking novel ill try to keep it short. Herc tells Sora he's not sure just *how* he got his powers back, just that he wanted to save Meg with all his heart when he (recklessly) dove in to save her. The game is trying to tell Sora that it's the Power of Love that brought back Herc's strength, and that Love will be key in bringing Sora's PoW back, too.

Specifically, I think that Herc's story and the other worlds Sora visits are saying that it's True Love that will bring Sora's powers back. Acts of true love in KH3 are framed as courageous, selfless, and performed unconditionally.

Despite the visit to see Hercules, Sora still doesn't gain the PoW. He has an idea of what he needs to regain it, but he has to visit multiple Disney worlds to learn more about the power of true love and sacrifice (well also separation but thats not as important to this post) before he's ready to test it out for himself.

After Arendelle (i think) we get to another important cutscene where Riku, Sora, donald, goofy, & mickey meet up with Yen Sid to discuss the progress they've made on their respective journeys. Sora wants to go to the Realm of Darkness with Riku & Mickey because he's worried, but they Won't let him because he doesn't have the PoW. Riku does the fondest laugh known to man, eliciting a bit of anger from Sora, but explains it's because of what Yen Sid had told him earlier - that had Sora or Riku known about Aqua being trapped in the RoD, they would have recklessly gone in to save her.

he's pretty much directly quoting yen sid here, just like he does in English (saying half-baked instead of reckless too). So basically saying here Sora would have marched into (the dark world) recklessly (had he known where Aqua was) - again using "mubou" like master yen sid.

Interestingly, when we get to Sora telling Riku to not be reckless in the dark world to Riku, he's not repeating the same word for Reckless that Riku is using (Now this might be just a flow of the conversation thing, which i certainly cant confirm as a non-native speaker but i think it's still notable)

Sora says something similar to what is said in English; with a few distinctions. A rough translation would be "but don't overdo it, call me if anything happens" (need I gripe one more time that english localization cuts out sora telling Riku to call him; which is why he spends the rest of the time apart from Riku wanting a call, and why its so unhinged that Riku triangles for sora and basically summons him. I DIGRESS)

This line is translated as "but be safe, no reckless stunts" in English, which serves as a callback to what Sora tells to Hercules in KH2, (further solidifying a herc/riku parallel) but IMPORTANTLY, Sora is NOT even saying the same thing he said to Hercules in the Japanese script. He's saying something else - 無理しないで (muri shinai de), which is usually translated as don't overdo it - but literally means "don't do the impossible". This will be important later when I talk more about Riku so keep this in mind.

We immediately get Donald saying "Sora's the reckless (muri) one" (abbreviating for simplicity) but Jiminy disagrees. In English he says "He's not reckless, he just doesn't think!" but in Japanese he says this:

Which i know im going to butcher any translation I do, but Jiminy is basically saying "[Sora's] not muri he's mucha". That distinction is important enough for Jiminy to make a joke about it. That Riku might actually be the one who is overdoing it/trying to do the impossible (muri), while Sora is the one who runs headfirst into danger recklessly (mucha). Which, i think, is quite fitting, given the actions theyve done through the series.

Importantly we get one more instance of "mucha" which I think really ties Sora's trait "recklessness" together nicely, and puts into perspective what the repetition of these phrases is doing from a story telling perspective.

After Sora finishes up the remaining Disney world visits, S, D, & G find out that Chip & Dale have lost contact with Riku & Mickey. Sora is very upset at this, and is Determined to save them (Riku) (with all his heart). Sora has NOT GAINED THE POW at this point, and they don't know how to even get into the RoD, so Sora opts to "let his heart be his guiding key" to find his way to Riku and the RoD. (Recklessly I might add, he hasn't called or talked to Yen Sid or consulted anyone about it lol)

He arrives at Destiny Islands and mysteriously finds Master's Defender which happens to be the key to getting him into the RoD. Right? Well. We know from the glossary that the established method of reaching the RoD is with a keyblade of darkness, through dark corridors, or with the Power of Waking.

Others have argued this (see SRT) but it's heavily implied that Sora regained the PoW on his way to rescue Riku. That he used it explicitly to get into the RoD is where people tend to be a little caught up in the details, because it *does* seem like Master's Defender plays a role, which begs the questions - is it a keyblade of darkness? What the fuck was it doing there? etc. (literally saw on a kh wiki that sora got into the RoD because Masters defender was a keyblade of darkness, which is unconfirmed currently lol) It's also not traditionally what the PoW looks like. There's a huge door that appears, Sora isn't using the kingdom key, he doesn't burst out of Riku's chest. Etc.

HOWEVER. I think with the context of the narrative arc Sora is going through, the foreshadowing present in the game, and The Reckless Rescue angle can at least prove that he DID regain his power here, regardless of whether or not he explicitly used it to get into the RoD. I'll try to briefly summarize the points I've seen made before I add my own.

After the visit to Olympus, Sora explains to Yen sid that he didn't regain his power but he still learned a lot. Yen sid stresses again that sora needs the PoW, Sora gets pouty, and Goofy cheers him up by saying "maybe something will trigger it real soon". Shortly after a bit of banter, there is a knock at the door, and Riku and Mickey walk in. The camera kmakes a point to show Mickey off to the side, then pan up to Riku as he walks in to close the door, who is centered in the view (almost as if we are watching from Sora's POV, who is anticipating Riku's appearance in the door).

Putting this side by side is a little unfair, since it's not an immediate jump from Goofy saying this to Riku's entrance, but it's pretty in your face about just what (or who) might be key to reawakening sora's PoW.

We also get some heavy handed foreshadowing in the next visit to Yen Sid's tower, right before Sora tells Riku to not overdo it:

Yeah. and he does, importantly, get the power of waking, not BEFORE he comes to the rescue, but BECAUSE he comes to the rescue.

Now for my contribution since I stole the last two/three points from other posts. Just before Sora enters the RoD, he tells D & G to stay behind and that he has to go alone. (Sigh, yes, this scene is a parallel to Riku using the PoW to save Sora in DDD - it *has* to be him, and him alone) D& G protest, but eventually relent. But Donald doesn't let Sora go without saying this:

(In English, Donald says "you promise to be good?" inexplicably) but in Japanese he tells sora (basically) "Don't be reckless" - aka. No Reckless Stunts, complete with the use of "mucha" (recall Donald in the previous scene was the one to call Sora "muri" before being corrected by Jiminy). This is similar to what Sora tells to herc, so we are pretty much full circle on this scene being a callback to Herc rescuing Meg in KH2.

Like Herc, Sora does the reckless thing. Like Herc, he heroically dives into the abyss to rescue his loved one with all his heart.

Like Herc, Sora regains his power the moment he resolves to rescue Riku, even if it is not made explicitly clear to Sora OR the audience (perhaps the fact that he regained the PoW is why he is able to save aqua, too)

I could probably go on about this and what it means for Sora for a long time, but I think it's high time I actually wrote about "muri" and Riku's recklessness, so let's rewind a little.

I've already brought up how Riku relates to Herc in terms of his recklessness and heroics, but theres a few more things to add. of course. I'll recap with pictures of one of the parallels i've already discussed:

So here i think at least metaphorically, we can argue that Riku has lost a bit of his "power"- or rather, his drive. After everything is over, he just collapses, ready to die or be left behind. Sora WONT let that happen. So Riku asks Sora to lead. He confesses to some of the jealousy and superiority he'd been feeling over Sora for the past few years, and seems to be trying to find a new direction in his life, having now repented Quite a bit for the sins he committed in KH1.

Riku's entire purpose for fighting after KH CoM and KH2 was to wake Sora up, keep him safe while he does his keyblade weilder duties, reunite him with Kairi, and send him on his merry way. Sora refuses to let him leave, and demands that he comes home with him. So he does. but without his jealousy over his feelings toward Sora, or without his feelings of guilt and feeling he needs to make it up to Sora, what is left to drive him to keep fighting?

DDD gives him a pretty strong answer - it's where he both rediscovers his sense of purpose and gains the Power of Waking in the process. And his dream eater powers too. btw

Riku's journey in DDD is, simply put, not really about passing the mark of mastery exam and becoming a keyblade master. it's about remembering What he lives for. remembering his promise to Terra, and how those feelings have evolved - from wanting strength to protect the Stuff that matters as a child, to, in DDD, discovering that the "stuff that matters, like his friends" was Sora the Whole time, and that Sora is actually a "precious best friend" that he wants to protect. It's About recovering his strength, like Herc needs to do in KH2.

So how does Riku regain his "strength"? By Sora-style taking a reckless dive into the deep abyss of Sora's heart to wake him using the PoW.

(Not once was I able to find any mention of "recklessness" here, or any particular language that ties this moment together cleanly with what happens in Olympus Colliseum in KH2, but the repetition of diving down into an abyss to rescue someone (with all your heart. etc) is Enough of a parallel to make the connection between this scene and Herc's dive to save Meg)

It is within the deepest depth of Sora's heart where Riku is interrogated by three pieces of Sora's heart about what he's afraid of, what he cares about more than anything else, and what he wishes - All canon answers involve the mention of "precious" - "taisetsu" (sorry im not explaining this one im going to just assume you know what im talking about if you are a soriku that reads meta you should know.) - to lose something precious, my precious best friend (fuck da english localization for this one), to recover something precious that I lost. It is here that we see Riku's simple "protecting important stuff" become "protecting something precious/my precious best friend" (note that this hasn't quite become "taisetsu na hito"/precious person but hes getting there)

Ansem the wise is there i guess and he tells Riku that his 3 answers are what were the key to waking sora up, and I think, importantly, are what give Riku his "strength" back. He has rediscovered his purpose, which is, to him, protecting Sora (with all his heart)

Continuing into KH2.9 we have another couple scenes that will both complete Riku's development from protecting stuff that matters to protecting a precious person and also continue to make a strong connection between him and Hercules.

It's been pretty well established that these two scenes are deceptively mistranslated, but i'll go over it again

Herc here is saying "taisetsu na hito" which is translated to "person I love most"

The EXACT phrase Mickey uses to tell Riku why he's feeling more powerful and fearless in the RoD, in the literal next scene in 2.9. They were supposed to be VERY CLEAR hit you over the head parallels but, well. SENA said fuck gay people i guess.

Riku repeats what Mickey says into his hand ("strength to protect my precious person") and recalls his promise to Terra, to protect the things that matter. (again it's implied it's always been about protecting sora, he just didn't have the language or understanding of himself yet to know how to say it)

There is absolutely no room for nuance here. This is explicitly framing Riku's feelings for Sora on par with Herc's feelings for Meg eg. explicitly romantic. And that it's his ROMANTIC LOVE for Sora that is what gives him his strength - not just to protect Sora, but also to do THE IMPOSSIBLE

phase ??? of my argument will now commence hang on to your butts. (i wrote this all in one night im tired)

Now that ive Exhaustively set that up. lets actually get back into discussing what I initially set up - riku doing the impossible "muri" thing.

As a reminder, Sora tells Riku to not "attempt the impossible/overdo it" in the RoD. And to call him if he needs him.

So Riku, instead of attempting the impossible in the RoD by facing the demon tide, does call Sora, which ends up being what saves the day! Yay!

I have bad news though! Riku is terrible at listening to advice when Sora is in trouble.

Now recall what I mentioned earlier about the fall of the guardians in the KBG and Sora's subsequent breakdown being a parallel to Herc losing his power in KH2. Sora *fails* everyone here, and he explicitly states he is worthless, without strength, when he loses them. It's very in line with Herc losing his powers in KH2.

(just putting these in here to hurt you and myself)

So, we get the Herc parallel, but it stops here for Sora. He doesn't do some grand self sacrifice for Riku to prove his heroism and regain his "power", but i think theres a reason for that beyond it just being Riku's time for the spotlight but I am getting there.

In the english localization, Sora says "we've lost, it's over". It's a subtle change from the Japanese, where instead of "it's over", Sora simply utters "muri da--" ("its impossible") (in the wettest saddest voice you can imagine)

It's at this moment where I do truly think we're meant to make the connection between Sora saying "its impossible" and Sora telling Riku to not attempt the impossible. It fits in nicely with Sora telling Herc to not do reckless stunts, with the slight change in language from "reckless" to "impossible", and with the impending self sacrifice. Riku knows that beating back the demon tide is impossible. But he does it anyway (compare to how, when faced with a much smaller demon tide, and he was losing, he listened to Sora's advice and called Sora for help instead of attempting the impossible)

So we have Riku's ultimate true love sacrifice for Sora, which both takes his life and grants him a spot upon an alter in Olympus, perhaps symbolically giving him some sort of ascension for his heroic deed. And again tying his sacrifice intimately to Herc's.

Because Sora and Riku are both "herc" and "meg" here I am going to make a little bit of a reach. Recall that I went through the effort of recapping the climax of the hercules movie. for no reason. There is a connection though even if it's loose, and i would kick myself for not including it.

In the movie, Meg, like Riku, protects a powerless Hercules from impending danger in her own act of true loves sacrifice. Her death gives Hercules his strength back (partly due to contract BS but it's still a romantic moment). And her death is what drives Hercules to dive into the Soul Hole to rescue her soul at a potentially great cost, which is what ultimately restores his godhood (showing his strength of heart). Riku sacrificing himself for Sora can be seen to be more like the events of the Hercules movie, Riku standing in for Meg - Sora does have to restore Riku's heart after it's been taken by the Lich, after all, much like Hercules brings Meg's soul out from the Hole. And Riku's sacrifice is what gives Sora the resolve to keep fighting. (not arguing with anyone who thinks it was only kairi because it wasnt lol)

So Riku attempts the impossible here, and ultimately he is rewarded. An interesting nuance is that the phrase "attempting the impossible" isn't meant to be taken as a challenge. From what ive read from native speakers, the phrase Sora uses really is better translated as "don't overdo it" as it is less about proving yourself to be able to overcome crazy obstacles and more about keeping your expectations in check. But Riku is reckless, and following his heart, which he learned from Sora.

I hope I've properly illustrated how Sora and Riku are both painted as reckless in different ways, and how the language used in KH3 is making direct references to Herc's reckless heroics in KH2 and in the actual Disney movie. And how these reckless acts are showcasing how much these two love each other, because I still have one more point to make. Namely, how this ties into Cinderella, and ultimately KH4.

In Terra's route of Birth By Sleep, he happens upon a distraught Cinderella, who has had her dress torn up by her step sisters. She was planning to go to the ball, but cannot, because it is "impossible" (muri)

Terra tries to console her. It's all very reminiscent of the scenes of Herc's, Sora's, and Riku's defeats.

After Terra fights off the unversed summoned by Cinderella's negativity (toxic much..), Out of the blue, the fairy godmother appears and makes everything better. She fixes up Cinderella with a dress and a ride to the ball, and sends her on her merry way.

She explains to Terra that she appeared to Cinderella to show her that her dreams *can* come true and that she typically appears only to people that have a strong belief in their dreams. Terra says he believes in dreams but you have to work for them, to which FGM responds that simply believing in dreams is already a difficult thing on its own. (Ventus also compares Terra to Cinderella. btw. because of his strong dreams)

Now. Sigh. Im not the only person that has pointed this out. The FGM quite literally appears to Riku, but only after a year has passed and they have no leads on Sora, and after it's implied that Riku is starting to lose hope.

In the limit cut, you can see Riku's sad wet puppy dog face as he talks about how hard everyone is working, and how they haven't found anything at all. He says "if Sora is really out there, don't you think we would have found something by now?" - Again, he's losing faith in his dreams of Sora's return. This is important.

I do not have the strength to go through and find all the times Riku told everyone to believe in Sora in KH3. It's a lot. And the last thing we hear him say Near Sora, is to let him go on his suicide mission to save Kairi - to BELIEVE in Sora (#wish).

So one, we know the dream Riku believes in is Sora, and two, we know he is starting to lose his belief in his dreams, like Cinderella before the ball, when he dress is destroyed.

Right after it's clear their is no lead through the data from Org 13, FGM appears, just like she did for Cinderella. And she tells Riku that His Dreams Are Literally A Key To Find Sora (that hes quite literally been #dream drop distancing into sora's dreams while hes in unreality is already so much without the FGM being there to explain this to him but KH is crazy!)

One last thing to really drive this home. The FGM brings Riku and Kairi to the nameless star to bring the three keys together.

And what does she tell Riku, before he leaves?

"Be careful. Do not attempt to do the impossible."

---------

if you read this whole thing... well... im proud of you. I know i definitely missed stuff, because it would be so hard to go through all the games and really dig for the use of this term especially when I dont speak japanese at all. and because i wrote this all in one night. But dont hesitate to comment or reblog if you have anything to add. I freaking love kingdom hearts

[the-s1lly-corner]

Being carried after getting injured (Masky, Jeff, Toby, Laughing Jack)

except im doing a coin toss on who carries who- im sorry for these opening notes being so short i just dont have many thoughts in my head right now ykyk? notes: reader is gn cws: injury

MASKY

hes the one carrying you after you fall and hurt your ankle, will take him a minute to pick you up- wants to access the damage before moving you, does not want to make it worse if he can help it

regardless of if he holds you bridal style or on his back, hell he might even just sling you over his shoulder, hes going to be power walking to somewhere safer if theres immediate danger or risk nearby

dont try to fight him, hes going to carry you home if he needs to- will keep a firm hold on you so you dont fall onto the ground and get hurt even worse

gets the job done whereas the others will try to get your mind off of the pain and talk to you- though thats mostly due to masky just... generally not talking all that much

TICCI TOBY

hes the one being carried around, similar to jeff hes going to try to walk it off... though its not so much a pride thing as it is him not fully realizing the extent of his injuries

does not know how to feel about being carried around but hes not going to squirm around or protest, as long as youre not struggling to move him around- the second you show any struggle hes going to start insisting you dont need to do this

will be thinking about this for a few weeks, long after hes recovered, because you went out of your way to give him a hand when he didnt ask for you to do so

will find a way to subtly repay you even if he doesnt need to, it makes him feel weird to not do something in return. and thats on not being used to having kind things done for you

JEFF

the only way he would let you pick him up is if hes hurt and cant walk on his own- and even then hes going to be pouting about it... may even try to walk it off which may or not make his injuries worse

tries to make you go different routes to make sure no one sees you carrying him around

grumbling the entire time until you set him down somewhere safe in order to treat his wounds, will attempt to walk by himself again

this man has an ago and he hates the idea of being vulnerable, even if he physically cannot do something on his own

doesnt take it out on you, for the most part- even if hes in a sour mood hes not going to say cruel things to you.. if anything hes hissing about the events that lead to him getting hurt

LAUGHING JACK

hes the one carrying you, hopefully youre not too terribly afraid of heights! even being a little hunched over, jack is... very large.. does his best not to sling you around, he may not be the most gentle but hes... doing his best to change that, especially since youre hurt!

your hands rest on his shoulders- the feathers... things.. he wears are a lot softer than they look- he keeps a hold on your legs... or ankles, depending on how tall you are

his hair is totally in your face though, so its not often you let him carry you around...

"Do I weigh anything to you?" "It's like a bag of grapes"/ref

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- It's Been A While [III]

₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊

₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊

➸ INTERESTS; -mha!shouta aizawa x quirk-using!freader

➸ BACKGROUND; - after an attack at the high school you studied in, you were requested by your work firm and the firm of that school to work as a teacher there for extra security, incase an attack were to occur again to protect the students (and teachers). Unfortunately, it won't be as easy as you expected when you rekindle with old friends, and a specific someone.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 4.5k, romantic tension, traumatic disturbances, mentions of medications, bad health history, hallucinations, little bit angsty, haunted by the past, sexual tension, shaking, indecisiveness, confusion, etc.

➸a.i; - its 6am i sleep, also posting the masterlist for the series whenever I wake up, it should be updated on all of the chapters sooner or later this afternoon (also ik the chapter is so long im sorry i was bored) !!

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡

♡/♛- It's Been A While [ II ]

♡/♛- It's Been A While Masterlist

You sighed as you placed the textbook you were reading back down on your desk your students rushed out of your class. The last bell of the day had rung, and it also seemed like the deadline for your answer to the question Shouta had asked you prior.

His words still rang in your head, you kept both of your hands over the sides of your head, thinking. There was no way you could reject his offer, but there was also no way you could accept it either. Luck was barely on your side knowing that whoever broke into your apartment didn't know your schedule had changed, you couldn't put others in danger.

If anything considered from the heads up your boss had given you last night, whoever or whatever they were must have been after you for two reasons: your status within the embassy, or your quirk. The second reason made much more sense to you however, because if they had wanted you for your title, they would've come to see you much sooner.

Now was a horrible time to even think about or do such a thing, especially since you had to drug yourself up over prescribed medications to even keep your powers and emotions at bay. It's easy for someone to use you for your powers rather than status, honestly that's what you liked so much about the embassy, you barely had to use your quirk.

No one even knew about your quick use of medications to keep yourself at a low after so many losses from your powers. Each time you convinced yourself they were accidents, and honestly, they were, but the number of nightmares you had about the occurrences said otherwise.

Now with everything hitting you all at once you had the option to move in somewhere secure, somewhere safe. You knew Shouta and you knew he was someone who could take care of you, and himself. He was a pro hero for fucks sake, one of the best at that, it can't be as dangerous as you think if you were to accept his offer.

Maybe it'll be a good thing, maybe just maybe this is one of the only opportunities I'll have at being happy or seeing things on the bright side after having such a shit week. Plus, you didn't have to keep paying in cash to stay longer than you intended at the hotel you were planning to stay in.

You stood up from your seat, collecting your belongings from your desk and placing them in your work bag. Determined to find Shouta to speak with him about his offer, unexpectedly you hear a knock coming from your opened doorway to find him standing there.

"Hey" you said softly, glancing back at your desk and grabbing your phone, seeing you had a message. You only turned it off, thinking to yourself you'd answer it later as you placed it in your pocket.

"Hey, I was just stopping by to see if you made up your mind about my offer, it still stands." He replied, his voice heavy as he watched your movements, both of his hands now in his pockets. You looked back at him, now taking him in fully.

He had gotten a lot taller from when you two were this close, of course that was back in high school before you had left. If anything, if you had gotten closer to him, he might as well have towered over you. You only smiled at him and nodded as you threw your bag over your shoulder, placing your hands in your pockets as well.

"I was actually just on my way to go see you about that actually." You began, scanning his face for any reaction from the first half of your statement, only to see nothing but him nodding. "I accept your offer, but I'm not sure I'll be able to thank you enough for it, I have a lot to bring though." You stated, placing a hand out of your pocket and pointing behind you with a smile.

You said softly, you weren't sure if it was the bandages pressed against his collarbone and lower chin that made him put his head down, but you could've sworn he was smiling just now. He'd do that all the time since you two were children, hiding whenever he smiled or laughed, it's good to see that most things haven't changed.

It's almost funny really, how just a few days ago he seemed like he hated you. Was doing everything to avoid you or even speak to you, acting like the grinch almost, and here he was now, with you, smiling because you accepted his offer to move in with him temporarily.

"If it's your bags being too heavy, I can always help you with them and anything else you're bringing. I have plenty of space so you can put your things where you want." He spoke softly, now taking a step towards you, if you were to even move back you would've hit your desk.

You stood your ground and eyed him as he made his way towards you, you only nodded in response. Now gripping on tightly to the bag that weighed down on your shoulder. Your eyes met with Shouta's constantly within seconds, the tension between the two of you becoming thicker with each glance, as you stepped around him to leave you paused.

"If you send me the address to your place I'll stop by later tonight with my things, I need to pack." You said, not even turning to look at him. You needed to get out of that room, and it had to be quick, whatever it was he saw in you to look at you the way you did made you scream internally.

"I don't think I have your new number..." he said as he turned around and watched your state, it's almost as if you could feel him raise a brow, but you didn't dare to turn around and look him in the eyes again.

"My number never changed" you said simply, now turning to the left as your heels clicked. You made your way down the hallway towards the exit and into the parking lot, digging in your pocket to get your car keys. The entire moment the two of you just shared replaying in your head over and over without fail.

As you unlocked your car and took your bag off your shoulder you chewed on your bottom lip. Tossing your bag in the passenger's seat as you sat in the driver's seat, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.

This was going to be much more complicated than you expected.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡

You scratched your head as you looked at the way you placed your bags within the trunk of your car. It looked so disorganized, but frankly you were too tired to fix them any better, the car ride would've been bumpy regardless, so it didn't matter too much. Just as you were going to close your trunk, your phone vibrated.

You reached in the back pocket of your jeans and pulled it out, seeing a message from Shouta and the person who had messaged you earlier in the afternoon. You closed your trunk and made your way to the driver's seat, locking your car as you sat in the parking lot of the hotel you stayed the night at. Now unlocking your phone and going to messages you saw the message underneath Shouta's from an unknown number, you rose a brow before opening it.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX: I won't let you forget about what you've done to our family]

You felt a twist in your stomach as you read it, already knowing who it was from, one of your old 'accidents' that occurred right after high school. The one that caused you the most grief and nightmares from the tragedy, and the same one that made you quickly cut the deal from being a pro-hero and working full time for the embassy.

Without a second thought you quickly blocked the number, sucking your teeth as you slumped into the seat, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You quickly swallowed your emotions as you remembered you hadn't answered Shouta's texts, quickly opening it and reading his message.

[Shouta :) : Hey, here's the address XXXX Main St, XXXX ****. Be safe on your trip here, I'll be waiting outside to help with your bags]

You smiled at his text, looking in your rearview mirror at the bags piled up in the trunk. You shook your head and chuckled softly, only hearting his message and pressing on the address that was underlined. It took you straight to the maps app and you followed your GPS to his place, as you followed it you played music from your favorite playlist on the way.

As you got closer and closer to the destination of his place you began to think how it would be. Was it just a two-bedroom apartment or was it something large and cozy like your own apartment. It must depend on the salary he's getting as both a pro hero and as a teacher, in all honesty you had no idea.

He didn't seem like a huge person on decorations or huge flashy things, so you didn't expect much, but when you drove through in the neighborhood you weren't expecting to see such a nice grey tone looking house. When your GPS told you that this was your destination you blinked out of confusion, looking back at the numbers on the house then your phone.

It wasn't wrong, this was definitely your destination, you just weren't expecting all of this. You shook away your thoughts and pulled into the driveway before seeing the garage open as you shut off the car after parking it. As you opened your car door the garage opened fully, revealing Shouta.

Honestly if you hadn't been paying attention you wouldn't have suspected it was him, he looked entirely different than he did a few hours ago. He was built, and you meant it, he was wearing all black, black sweatpants and a black wifebeater. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail as he kept one hand in his pocket, raising the other one to wave at you.

Thank goodness he did wave at you, because it snapped you out of the little trance you were having of him. There's no way he was hiding all of that in the outfit he wore on the daily with his students and at night on his patrols. As you waved back at him and closed your door to make your way to your trunk you still couldn't wrap your head around it all.

Lost deep in thought you weren't even aware that when you opened your trunk, he was already making his way right behind you. Before you could reach for the first bag in the back his hand grazed yours as he picked it up, then picked up another and threw it over his shoulder.

Your head sunk down slowly as your breath hitched, not wanting to make this more awkward than it already was. You slowly made your way to the side and picked up two much smaller bags and turned to him as he cocked his head to the side, pointing to the house.

"Just follow me and I'll show you where your room is" he said, looking at you, you looked back to the car with a nod quickly. There was no way in hell you two were about to start yet another staring contest, especially now of all times.

As you followed him inside you got a nice view of the house, well the inside anyway, everything was nice and clean. It was honestly pretty bland inside, no sheer pop of color or decors, just furniture that was a sort of marble grey. Anything you could look at or pay attention too other than the handsome sculpted man in front of you would've sufficed.

As you walked down the hallway, you heard him speaking of you having the room entirely to yourself, and the bathroom was just to the side of it. You only hummed in response to his statement as your mind continued to wander, until a sudden question popped up in your head.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" You asked, your question quickly followed by a yawn, to which you covered your mouth with the back of your hand. Shouta placed your bags down in your new room, it was big to say the least, neat and empty. The bed sheets were a tan kind of color, sand almost, along with a cream-colored blanket.

"What do you mean?" He asked, now turning to you and raising a brow as you placed your bags down on your bed, looking around the room to see where you'd place most of your belongings. You looked up at him, taking a glance at his face before walking over to the dresser that was in front of your bed.

"When we first bumped into each other you looked at me like you hated me, now we're here." You said carelessly, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you toyed with your hair for a little, looking over to see him in the mirror as he crossed his arms.

"I've never hated you" he said honestly, you now turned to look at him, in the eyes this time. Seeing the same look he had before, a look of sadness and sorrow. You only hummed in response yet again before opening the empty drawers to your dresser and looking inside them all, planning which draw would hold what.

You only left the room in one swift movement and made your way back to your car and grabbing your last two bags along with your work bag. You closed the trunk as you locked the car and began walking back inside.

Whatever answer he just gave you when you were inside didn’t answer your question, you hated how he always beat around the bush. Now you were too tired to argue or pry to get an answer that you wanted from him, you only returned inside through the garage to see him standing in the hallway waiting for you. Without exchanging any words, he just came over to you, taking the bags from your hands in one swift movement and walked into your room, placing them with the others.

“Thank you” you said, removing your phone and keys from your pockets and placing them on your nightstand by your bed. Shouta only shook his head at your words.

“No need to thank me, follow me so I can show you around” He spoke, now exiting your room and pointing down the hall for you to follow him. You followed behind slowly, turning your gaze back to the walls and floors now, not wanting to look at him knowing how easily your mind wanders.

You wondered how he felt about you, honestly it couldn’t be anything bad, he had offered for you to live in his house after hearing of your problems. Even though things ended rocky between the two of you and started again off to a strange start here you were, pushing everything to the side as he gave you a personal house tour.

You couldn’t even call this fate, as of right now you had no idea what it was, but whatever it was made you more curious than ever. As the small tour came to an end Shouta had shown you practically everything. The kitchen, living room, his bedroom and your bathroom, it wasn’t a lot, but it could be, his home was spacious, and you liked that.

He had even cooked apparently, and you complimented it too. His food was good and honestly you were surprised when he first told you, not expecting him to be the cooking type. Soon after you helped him clean up and stood around as you watched him.

Not to mention to your surprise you felt something pet against the heel of your feet, startling you as you quickly turned around. You were met with a small black cat, meowing at you softly before repeating the same action as before. You only smiled and relaxed, bending over to pet it, your back now facing Shouta.

You grinned as you called it pet names as you continued to pet it before picking it up and reading the collar. ‘Yoyo’ you read and laughed, knowing there was no way Shouta could’ve named her.

“This was definitely Nemuri’s doing, I think you’re more creative than this.” You laughed turning to Shouta, who was dangerously close to you. Your arm had brushed up against his chest and you knew better than to move. You only turned all of your attention back to Yoyo, as if you hadn’t realized what happened.

“Yeah, it was, I wasn’t sure what to name her, but I had help” he replied, placing his hand on the back of his neck and holding it gently as he sighed. You gave Yoyo a small kiss and hug before placing her down back on the floor and standing up again.

Without thinking you turned around and face planted into Shouta’s side, immediately pulling back and apologizing as you held your head. He only shook his head and apologized as well, placing a hand on your shoulder asking if you were alright. You only nodded and drew your shoulder back, feeling dizzy at the feeling.

He smelled good, too good, like one of those really nice colognes that would catch your attention whenever you went shopping and passed by the men’s section. You were snapped out of your trance when it seemed for a split second someone was standing behind him.

You immediately darted your head to the side, only to see the figure disappear as you frowned. You just brushed it off and turned into the kitchen, checking the time. As you counted how many weeks it had been in your head.

8:36pm

You were late to take one of your medications, your alarm had probably been going off for a while now and you weren’t even aware of it. Thankfully you had already eaten so you didn’t have to worry about taking it on an empty stomach.

“I have to go, I’ll uh, I’ll be back” you said with a pause, quickly turning around and making your way back to your room. You quickly shut off the silent alarm that had been ringing on your phone for nearly an hour before grabbing your keys and heading outside.

As you unlocked your car and climbed into the passenger seat to open the glove department you saw a shadow in the rear-view mirror. You turned around slowly only for the figure to yet again disintegrate from your view. You took a deep breath and searched for the bottle you were looking for amongst the junk in the department box, ending your search when you found a bottle labeled ‘Risperdal’.

As you cleaned up and closed your glove department box and locked your car you quickly walked back inside. The figure appearing beside you yet again, muttering whispers to you as you ignored it and made your way back to your room digging in your bag.

Your pill cutter where is your pill cutter. You’re prescribed to only take half of the full number of milligrams the pill had and unfortunately you had already taken the other left over half 3 weeks ago. It was surprising to you almost, you had never taken them so close together before, things like these were only monthly occurrences, but it was getting worse.

You sighed to yourself out of frustration as you couldn’t find what you were looking for, your grip on your bottle tightening as the faceless figure taunted you, practically laughing at you through a mouth it had grown out of nowhere.

You made your way back to the kitchen, embarrassment hitting you as you realized you had one of two options. Either hoping Shouta had a pill cutter around somewhere or using a knife to cut it yourself.

He raised his head as he looked up at you after drying his hands when he finished the dishes. Smiling at you softly before seeing something in your hands and raising a brow as you wet your lips and parted them.

“Hey um, do you have any pill cutters?” You asked quietly, but loud enough for him to hear, he slowly made his way over to you. He opened the cabinet beside your head filled with medications, as he reached to the top shelf and got a green pill cutter and placed it on the counter.

He then made his way over to his fridge and got a cold-water bottle, placing it next to the cutter. The entire time he kept his eyes on you, only that you weren’t looking at him, more or less something behind or around him had your attention.

Your eyes trailed on the figure that now morphed into a teenage girl, one who you had known well in high school. She went around and teased you laughing at Shouta as she grinned at you sinisterly as she spoke, you couldn’t hear what she was saying as it all came out as whispers. You knew it wasn't her though, the way her body was so deformed, and her face was twisted proved it was all in your head.

You then looked over to the pill cutter, placing the pill bottle in your hand on the counter before opening it quickly. Then opening the water bottle, shaking slightly as you did so before placing a pill within the tiny machine on the counter.

The girl had now made her way over to you as you placed the device in your hand, clamping your hands down on the button attempting to cut the pill. The more and more she whispered to you and placed her hands on your shoulders the more you trembled, your vision clouded with tears as you chewed on your bottom lip.

Within seconds you felt two large hands overcoming your own, and a firm chest being pressed against your back as you heard a click from the pill cutter. You gasped softly as you were snapped out of your trance for a short while as Shouta took the pill cutter from your hands.

He soon opened the device and took the left half of the pill with one hand, his other one rested on your shoulder. There was absolute silence between the two of you, the only thing making noise was you, your breathing was ragged. He paused as he read the label of your pill bottle, frowning softly before turning his attention back to you.

“Can I trust you to take it yourself or do you need my help?” He asked softly, his body still pressed against yours, you only shook your head in response. You only kept your head down and turned around slightly, the whispers of before echoing in your mind.

Shouta hadn’t said anything else, he only lifted your head slightly, his hand grabbing your jaw softly as he looked at you. It’s as if you weren’t even there with him, looking over the side of his shoulder, your mouth still agape. You watched as the deformation of the girl disappeared, her laughter leaving a trail behind.

He took the pill and placed it at your lips, his fingers brushing against your lips focused your attention on him, your eyes now locked with his. You parted your lips even more now, letting the cut pill go past your lips and hit your tongue, the taste bitter as your eyes never left his.

Your eyes were watery was his first thought, the same way they always were whenever you were about to cry. For as long as he knew you it had been that way, you’d squint slightly before letting your eyes water and cry, and he hated it.

He hated how conceited you were, especially with him, and now it hadn’t seemed like things had changed much. Even now, years later you were taking on way much more than you could chew, and he always blamed the embassy for it.

The two of you broke eye contact as you were the first to turn around, placing a hand on his chest to push him away softly so you could reach for the water bottle he had gotten you before. You quickly chugged the bottle two thirds of the way down, the bitter taste still in your mouth as you placed the bottle down.

The hand you had on Shouta’s chest hadn’t left, he grabbed it softly, tugging you towards him as you turned around again. You looked at his face, hinted with disappointment and possibly anger as he saw your gaze.

“Y/n. Risperdal? What has happened since you joined the embassy?” He said, now bending slightly to reach your eye level, his hands not leaving your arms. You had heard him, but his words weren’t as loud as the whispers that were still echoing in your head before you spoke.

“I’m fine, I took it too late” you replied slightly, ready to push him off of you, but his grip only tightened, pulling you in closer. You’re too close to one another, way too close. You weren't sure if your thumping heartbeat was getting louder from the way he held you or the sounds ringing in your mind, but you didn't like it.

Even through the haze of what you’re going through you can tell that this was wrong, even though it felt good, and it made you feel warm inside. You shook your head and pushed him off of you successfully this time as he left you go.

“I said I’m fine.” You repeated harshly, glaring at him as you watched his sad expression quickly turn angry, glaring back at you in return. Your hand clammy as you squeezed it open and closed again. There was no need for him to care so closely to you as he had before, you two weren't together anymore.

“You’re still a shitty liar, I guess you haven’t changed since when you left.” He responded harshly, you looked to the side and thought back to when you left initially years back. Your expression softening as you took a breath and stopped clamming with your hand.

You only excused yourself and bid yourself goodnight, practically speed walking back your room before slamming the door behind you. Taking all preparations and moving your bags to the side as you got ready for bed, laying underneath the covers with your earphones in listening to your music as you tried to tune out your thoughts before drifting to sleep.

Maybe you were right about putting Shouta in danger by living here, but the danger wasn’t from the outside or whoever was after you.

The danger was you.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡

Taglist: @getoisinnocent

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[robjn93]

hello charlie! i dont know if this is a weird ask, but this is a question about a certain fanon tim drake misconception and i was wondering if you know its origin. people sometimes characterize him as 'morally grey', when i am 98% sure that in canon, it was very pointed out that he has a strong moral compass. like, an notorious example i can remember is in yj98 (#3, i think): when red tornado adresses to tim as 'super ego', being the most 'ethic' one out of kon & bart. i think im rambling over here, but i wanna hear your say on this LOL

ASK AWAY I LOVE TO RAMBLE 'morally grey' tim drake is pure fanon based on either mischaracterization of red robin tim drake or people's unbridled desire to have him and jason bond over hating bruce or whatever else. i made like a giant thinkpiece for oomf about a personal hc on how tims nightmares affected his moral compass but absolutely, tim is PURE super ego. given the trolley problem, tim would probably throw himself on those rails to die. he has proven it many times.

in robin #4-5, given the choice of putting steph in danger by letting her confront her father or killing arthur brown, he chose option 3: throw himself in the truck, which ended up with him nearly suffocating to death. what i personally find interesting of this is less his actions per sè and more his thoughts; every second a thought about ‘doubling air supply’ comes to his head, he punishes himself for it. he is only afraid of 'disappointing bruce', finding himself in a situation where he even had to choose 'who to save'.

in one of my favorite stories, 'batman: contagion', tim would rather die than let is father know he was dying. he wanted to avoid giving his father thta heartache and make sure that batman and robin's identity were safe so he preferred wallowing in his pain instead.

in the titans of tomorrow storyline, he didnt hesitate to put a gun to his head and nearly pull the trigger and it has to be noted that the only reason why he failed to take his own life was external factors. if it meant saving others, he was willing to let himself die.

finally (because i have too many examples LOL) a lonely place of living. too good. between letting the kanes become the target of the bombs or letting people perish, he chose the final option: redirect all explosives towards himself and let himself die.

tim counteracts hedonism, he is a pure self harming machine and most importantly, he is a masochist and a hypocrite. in his fantasies, he wishes for an easy life yet does everything in his power not to achieve that. he dates ariana, a girl whos life (as troubled as any gothamite’s can be) is fairly uncomplicated, overly accepting of his committment behaviors yet cheats on her with steph, someones whos life is an absolute mess and does nothing but make it even more complicated by being a vigilante and choosing to be involved in the vigilante life.

he says he wants to eventually quit robin and have an easy life yet, when offered the chance of actually quitting, he is trembling in his boots and afraid of a life without being robin. he comes back to bruce all the times, no matter how many times bruce disappoints him and manipulates him. he needs that complicated life, he needs to be a part of that change. he needs that pain.

[larsthefishoil]

As I'm actively reflecting on the new hbomberguy video, but more specifically James Somerton, certain things are clicking into place with resounding clarity.

I've watched Somerton's videos for years. At first I thought he was kinda overly dramatic, and had outdated stances on how little lgbtq+ was seen in modern day. He always seemed to talk like we are still living in the danger of the 80s with staight/cis people's apathy and hatred. In truth the phobias have just shifted in how they present and things have genuinely improved in a sense.

But the thing that is actually getting to me rn is the misogyny thing. I think he actually injected really shitty thoughts into my brain that I absorbed like a fucking kitchen sponge. He's protectiveness over queer people but specifically gay men from "prevented white women" actually got to me. For over a year, I was walking around occasionally thinking about how "women are sneaking BL manga into their bedrooms and grotesquely drooling."- im not citing someone theres quoteation marks cause its a dumb thought. But i thought this because that's how bad Somerton made it seem.

But the thing that got me out of that head space was this video by talistheintrovert.

https://youtube.com/@talistheintrovert?si=vmpEa_TPP2UE9eQk - here's the link to her homepage on YouTube.

https://youtu.be/08pCrSBw5EY?si=bECaT_xC16IfN5TI - vid about Good Omens

https://youtu.be/zzSlRZhS_qY?si=unQzSbCQUaTqhSbv - Heartstopper vs. Only Friends

sorry for the ugly link I'm on mobile.

I forget their pronouns so I'm using they/them but I might be wrong. I watched a lot of their videos all at once, so a lot of their ideas interlinked between videos to connect points. But they frequently talked about how straight and queer people interact with queer media and the complexities that unfold. Their underlying message was always that an individual's sexuality doesn't matter when interacting with media when it comes to gatekeeping who gets to appreciate queer content. Still most people consuming are queer people, but straight cis people also benefit and that's okay, it's great even.

Talistheintrovert shooed away icky feelings of straight women fetishizing queer men, which was a fear I got from James Somerton!

Idk this is a long post, but hbomberguy's ending soliloquy about trying to find happiness kinda reminds me of the many countless queer YouTube channels- big and small. Most of us aren't clawing for the position of top dog and like Somerton and seem a lot happier dispit of everything going on nowadays.

Anyways, stay safe, be accepting, and cite your sources or else hbomberguy will have to crawl out of whatever hole he hides in for the better part of each year and make a five hour long video about you :/

[hecksupremechips]

Shinjiro Aragaki 🤝 Rebecca Gales

Mom friends who constantly try telling others how they should live their lives and believe they know what’s best for everyone else who would explode and die if anyone did the same to them

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part three

authors note: hi! its me again. i had some free time and most of this chapter was completed, sans gaps and editing, so i figured why not?

thank you everyone for all of the kind words, like im still so floored just how many people like the random shit that comes from my head!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angsttttt, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 4.2k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

You were sixteen years old the first time you drank alcohol. Truly, a result of peer pressure. Alcohol never seemed as amazing as your friends tried to preach it to be, not with the amount of hair you’d held back while your friends retched their entire days consumption in toilet bowls. 

Just didn’t seem all that appealing.

And then it was homecoming, and your school won the game, qualifying them for state. The whole town was in celebration, but no one was as lit as the football team. And, of course, dating the quarterback at the time and as cheer captain, your presence was damn near a requirement. High school politics and all.

So, you, Amir, and your closest friends spent the night house hopping, partying at one place for a little while before moving on to the next. And at some point, at some stop, you’d been convinced to try a beer. Honestly, it was disgusting as fuck, but a small part of you didn’t want to be the one prude of your group, so you downed it. And then another. Followed by another. Which preceded one more. 

And by the end of the night, you truly were white girl wasted.

You thank God that you had good friends at the time who made sure you made it home safely, because you absolutely did black out. Amir did too, hence him not being the one responsible for your care.

When you woke up that morning, the first thing you did was dart to the bathroom where you emptied your guts. The second? Panic. You were terrified of your mother finding out that not only had you engaged in underage drinking, literally violating the damn law, but you’d gotten so wasted that you blacked out. It was incredibly stupid and highly dangerous. Your chest tightened and stomach coiled at how she would react if and when she realized what you’d done.

That was the most scared and nervous you’ve ever been in your entire life.

Well, up until now.

Because all you can focus, think, and obsess about is the fact that Joe will be in your state, in your town, in your damn apartment in a matter of hours. He’d text you in the middle of the night a screenshot of his flight information indicating an arrival time much earlier than you were hoping for. 

Dread swept over as you sent him a message asking if he would stay at the same hotel he usually used when visiting, not that it got much use. He typically stayed with you during his visits. But, you offered to meet him there instead, feeling more comfortable if you were out of this setting, not in your apartment that had some type of reminder of Callie in damn near every room.

It took longer than you liked for him to respond, and his answer only served to increase your anxiety and trigger some anger.

No. I’m coming to you.

That was it, no explanation to your follow up texts which you know he read cause bastard had his read receipts on. Just radio silence.

That pissed you off even more, because why the hell was he ignoring you? Wasn’t he about to come talk to you about something anyway?

Oh.

Your stomach tightens. Not knowing what the hell he wants is driving you insane. You know why you reached out to him, but why did he seem so keen on speaking to you? It’d been nearly five years, what could have happened to trigger this sudden desire to reconnect?

And why the hell did he respond so quickly to your initial message? Truthfully, you expected no response whatever, convinced that he’d probably changed numbers after his massive increase in fame. Or, for him to at least hit you with the ‘who is this’? But, he didn’t, he called you and immediately knew who you were.

A tiny gasp leaves your mouth. That must have meant he still had your number saved, the same way you still have his in your contact list.

You….you don’t know what to make of that, don’t know what to make of it at all.

“Mommy, why am I spending the night with Aunt Mariah?”

Callie’s soft voice temporarily eases you from your panic, granted it also makes you aware of how she’s clearly unhappy about this. You know why too. Sundays are always your ‘special days,’ where you spend the entire day together doing the most random of things from baking, to playing game, to random dance parties that sometimes result in neighbors politely asking you to keep the noise down. It’s a tradition, and this is the first time since starting said tradition that it won’t be happening. 

Closing up her drawer where you were just digging for some pajamas for her, you move to sit next to her on her bed. Her head is down as she plays with the stuffed animal in her arms. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this is our day, but mommy just has some business she has to take care of.”

She keeps her head down, voice low. “Can’t you do it tomorrow?

Fuck. You hate disappointing her. “I wish, baby, but it can’t wait.” More like he won’t wait. You’re not sure what you would have proposed regarding a time to discuss, well, Callie, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the next damn day. “Hey, how about this? Why don’t you and I stay home tomorrow and have a special special day on Monday?”

At that, her head lifts, eyes sparkling with renewed excitement. “Really?”

“Yup. Mommy can take some time off, and you can miss a day of school. It won’t kill us.” You rarely ever take time off as it is, mostly because a teacher’s salary isn’t anything to write home about. You have to work your ass off to keep a roof over your and Callie’s head. But also….you’re not even sure what frame of mind you’re going to be in following this meeting with Joe, so better safe than sorry. “But only if we can watch The Lion King first.”

Clearly pleased with this compromise, she offers you her pink finger. “Deal!”

You two seal the deal with a pinky swear as you hold her into your side and sigh heavily. You wish that you two could stay like this forever. “I love you, Callie. Okay? Always remember that.”

________

“He’s what?”

You anxiously chew on the nasty ass protein bar Mariah offered you after you realized you’d barely had anything to eat today. It was a part of the latest dietary plan she was following, probably something she found from one of those weird ass dieting groups she was a member of on Facebook.

You loved Mariah, dearly, but as you two grew older, especially after having her baby boy, Micah, she’d become increasingly insecure about her body. Always the smaller, thinner, more athletic of the two, you knew that she struggled with how much weight she’d put on over the years, especially when her plan to drop the baby weight didn’t pan out. You're not sure she’s lost any of it, to be honest. 

It wasn’t even a massive weight gain, and truthfully, you thought curves suited her well. But, it didn’t matter what you thought. What mattered was how she felt, which wasn’t the best, despite your best efforts to build up her confidence.

“He’s coming into town,” you finally answer, debating if you should offer her the rest of this grass in bar form. Why the hell is it so damn grainy?

“Today? He’s coming into town today?” You nod. “I’m sorry, I must have missed a couple chapters.”

“More like volumes,” you murmurs, sourly. It’s a great opportunity for you to set aside the dirt bar and explain to her everything she’d missed, from Callie’s initial inquiry to your calling him, to him sending you an itinerary for a flight arriving in roughly three hours at this point.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, careful of her volume despite Micah and Callie being occupied in the living room watching Bluey. “What are you going to do? What are you going to say to him? This is….this is bad, girl.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You lay your head against her kitchen island and force yourself to take three, big, deep breaths. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

You hear her exhale. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m serious, Mo. I—” You lift your head and try your best not to cry. Tears won’t do anything to help the situation. “I don’t know what he wants, but it’s obvious he’s angry with me already, and I can’t imagine when I tell him about Callie that he’s gonna feel any better.”

“You think he’ll be upset?”

“Of course, he will.”

“No, not that. I mean, yeah definitely, about that. But, I mean, you know….that you kept her.” It takes a minute for you to process what she’s asking, and it’s a question you hadn’t thought about in some time.

You’d been so consumed about how upset he would probably be that you kept Callie hidden from him that you hadn’t considered the alternative. What if he was more upset she even existed in the first place?

The thought alone takes you to a dark place. Feelings of rejection and abandonment that you yourself experienced and probably haven’t fully processed. Feelings you swore with your life you’d always protect Callie from. 

And always will.

“Then he’ll continue to not be a part of her life.” Your voice is sound and resolute. Mariah also recognizes that all too familiar look of determination that fills your face. 

“But what will you tell her then?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” A motto, a mantra, an oath. You’ve hit hard times before and always pulled through. This will be no different. Whatever's needed to keep your daughter from the trauma you experienced, you’ll do. No matter what.

Mariah knows better than to try to reason with you right now, not that there’s a ton of that needed. As a mother herself, she fully understands the intrinsic desire and borderline need to protect your child. She just also knows that you can be stubborn, and when you put your mind to something, nothing and no one can change it.

She just wonders how that’s going to bode over with whatever is about to go down.

You finish off the conversation with thanking her again for her last minute availability. You know you could have asked your mom as well, but she would have had questions, questions you don’t have the answers for nor the desire to explain just what’s happening.

Hell, you don’t even fully know what’s happening. 

As the time gets closer, you realize you need to get home and straighten up. Maybe vacuum or some shit. 

“Will you call me before I go to bed?”

“Of course, I will, mama.” You push back some of her hair, hating to see her sad again. She’s wearing that pout that you just realized is similar to Joe when he scowls. Shoving that from your head, you add, “and don’t forget about our big day tomorrow.”

That seems to win you a small smile, enough to make you feel less shitty about ditching her, even if it’s completely beyond your control. “It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“You bet your butt it is, kiddo!” You bring her in for another hug, holding her close and tight. “I love you, Callie Bear.”

“I love you too, mama.” 

Callie expressing her love for you is the soundtrack in your head as you drive home and even as you move around your apartment, dusting and vacuuming. You even clean the baseboard, something you’re sure you haven’t done since you first moved in when you were 22. 

You even make the controversial decision to leave up the photos of Callie or both you and Callie together in the living room and don’t really do much to move aside the indicators that a child lives here. Like her toy bucket near the TV or pink kiddy cups lined up near the kitchen sink. 

It doesn’t make much sense to you to hide these things when the sole reason you even reached out is to make him aware of why those things are there and who they belong to. You’ve stopped letting yourself try to figure out why he wants to speak to you or why he’s upset, realizing it was only making your anxiety ten times worse to the point where you felt like you were going to vomit.

Recognizing you have some time before he arrives, you decide to take a shower that’s much longer than necessary and will probably have you upset at yourself when you get your next water bill. 

But, it’s a nice distraction. Being fresh, clean, and moisturized is always a nice pick me up. Granted, you find it almost silly as you struggle to figure out what to wear. It’s Joe. Not Beyonce. Also, your outfit should be the last thing on your mind, as you eventually settle on a graphic shirt and some shorts. 

And realizing you have nothing else to do, you plop down on the sofa and wait. Wait for whatever the hell is about to happen once you open that door. Strangely enough, your anxiety seems to be settling. Granted, you wonder if that’s being replaced with denial, because you’re also starting to tell yourself that it won’t be that bad.

It may not be, but that’s not a good hill to die on. Preferred but not reliable. 

Needing another distraction, you scroll aimlessly through your Instagram, liking a few posts of friends, family, and former classmates from both high school and college. It’s interesting seeing how everyone ventured down different paths, some homemakers, some business execs, and of course the aspiring musicians aka unemployed. 

And then there was you, the small town teacher raising her secret love child of a WWE superstar in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. 

Your stomach twisting and turning tells you the anxiety is returning, but it doesn’t have as much time to heighten because the doorbell rings.

He’s here.

There’s this irritating yet quiet ringing in your ears and anchor on your chest, both of which make it harder to untangle your limbs and move off the sofa. It’s like watching yourself slowly make your way to the door, the tremble in your hand noticeable as you undo the lock and start to turn the knob. 

I love you too, mama.

Callie’s sweet, reassuring voice floods into your head providing the sweet relief needed to return from dissociation and snap back to reality. Eyes shutting, you take another deep breath and carefully swing the door open.

Truth be told, you weren’t quite sure what you expected to feel upon seeing Joe again, not sure what you should feel. This was a reunion, but only in name. Nothing about him being at your doorstep was warm and inviting. That much is obvious by his stoic, unreadable facial expression, which isn’t entirely out of character. Contrary and both similar to his current heel portrayal, Joe has always been more on the quiet side, not as easy to read. More open and warm once you get to know him.

You’d found that out firsthand.

Taking in his countenance, you can’t avoid observing the rest of him. He’s somehow even bigger than the last time you saw him in person, almost taking up your doorway, rippling muscles on full display in the plain, black fitted shirt he wears. His hair is pulled back as usual, clean line up, and beard fuller than you remembered him liking it. He’s aged, obviously, but well. Very well.

Heat rising to your cheeks, you step to the side, allowing him inside. You hate how you close your eyes as you inhale his scent.

He always did smell so damn good.

The physical distractions dissipate when he’s inside, the door locked, and it’s just the two of you. 

You notice almost immediately how he seems to be intent on keeping his back toward you, playing it off by taking in your apartment. Not that much, if anything, has changed. He can’t be that damn interested. 

It was painfully clear that Joe was already frustrated with you just by his texts, but his anger is even more palpable in person, borderline suffocating. 

Just what the hell did you do to upset him so much?

Clearing your throat and crossing your arms over, you decide that someone needs to say something because this silent shit is not working for you.

But then Joe angles his body, still not looking toward you but something else. And that’s when your anxiety starts up all over again.

You watch him, intently, as he walks over to the side table near the sofa, the one that has pictures on it. 

Pictures of Callie. 

He picks one up, and you’ve never been so still in your life. It’s torture, not seeing how he’s looking, unable to read his facials, clueless to what he must be thinking. He’s quiet for too long, so you decide to bite the bullet and say something. 

“I—”

“Is she mine?”

Waves. Heavy, plunging waves of emotions splash at you with a ferocity that nearly floors you. His question, so simple, isn’t what you expected to leave his mouth. It’s posed so quietly, lowly, emotion evident but not enough for you to know which one. Anger? Sadness? Confusion?

It stumps you, and for a second, you try to convince yourself that he doesn’t mean what you deep down know what he means. 

“What–what are you talking about?”

He curses quietly, and you hear him say your name before he asks again in a dangerously calm voice, “is she mine?”

You recognize this tone, the tone he takes when he’s trying his best to tame his temper, but there’s no guarantee that he can. And that in and of itself is not a good sign, Joe rarely ever gets mad. He’s irritatingly adept at maintaining his composure in all situations. 

Except this one.

You just want to take a nap, take a break from all of this. Everything seems to be happening so fast, too fast. It wasn’t even 24 hours ago that Callie first asked about her father, and now the man is standing in front of you asking you to confirm she is his daughter. You’re so confused about everything. How could he tell so easily? You always said and thought she favored him, but did she favor him enough for him to take one look at her and know she’s his daughter?

That doesn’t even seem possible nor plausible. 

You have so many questions, but there’s no need in delaying the inevitable.

Rip the Band-Aid off.

“Yes.” 

It’s at that moment he finally decides to turn around, and you can see the moment it happens, the moment the floodgate of emotions rush through him like a tsunami. He’s shocked. He’s confused. He’s angry.

“How did you find out?” Putting the pieces together is a slow progress, but one that’s progressing nonetheless. He clearly came here with that question prepared and ready to launch. He knew about Callie, knew when you texted him, knew when he decided to call. Knew before he even walked in and saw a picture of her.

He just needed you to confirm as such. 

That seems to be the wrong question, because anger is suddenly more prominent, both vocally and physically. “You’re seriously asking me how the fuck I found out I have a daughter?” Any attempt to control his anger is out the door, replaced with visceral emotions. “No, the real question is why the fuck you didn’t tell me I have a child?”

You’re not sure what it is, the emotionality of it all, the fact that you’re face to face with the man you’ve worked so hard over the years to get over, or even just the fact that he’s speaking to you this way. Maybe all of it. Regardless, you’re not about to just take it lying down. “First of all, watch your tone. You’re not going to talk to me any kind of way. Second of all, you are married, Joe. What was I supposed to do? Send you and your wife copies of the sonogram?”

“Don't put this on that,” he dismisses, swiftly and curtly. “Jadah has nothing to do with you telling me I'm a father. Don't you think I had a fucking right to know?”

“Of course you had a right.” He did. He does. You won’t deny him that, but it’s also not as cut and dry as he’s making it out to be. “But—”

“There’s no but, Y/N!” He cuts you off, and you have to take another deep breath. This time though, it’s not to lessen anxiety. It’s to calm your own anger that’s rising. Who the hell does he think he is to speak to you this way? Like you’re some damn child. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Are you going to actually listen to me, or are you just going to keep yelling? Cause I don’t respond to disrespect, Joe. You know this.”

He actually smiles, smiles at your words. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? I’m disrespecting you? You keep my child from me, and I’m disrespecting you?” He scoffs and looks up at the ceiling, probably to settle himself. “Did you know when you ended things between us?"

The surprising questions just keep on rolling. “What?”

“I swear to God.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “Did you know you were pregnant when you told me to leave? Is that why you did it? So I wouldn’t find out?”

This time, you’re the one scoffing, trying to rationalize how he could even think to ask you this. “Seriously, Joe? I told you why I ended things.”

“Yeah, well, you’re clearly not the most honest fucking person, so I don’t even know what to believe anymore.” 

You hate the fact that his words don’t further anger you but instead sadden you. You see how he’s looking at you, with a level of disdain and disgust. It’s such an unfamiliar experience, an unwanted one. “So, I’m a liar now?” It should have come out much stronger, firmer, showing him that you’re not putting up with his bullshit. Instead, it’s a damn near whisper.

He looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, like he doesn’t get what you’re not getting about this. “What do you call what you did?”

Your head is starting to hurt. This is going exactly how you feared it would go. 

Bad.

It’s all becoming too much, your voice weighed down with the emotions of it all. You feel like you’re on the verge of tears, and you hate that. You won’t let him see you cry. “We’re not….we’re not getting anywhere here, Joe. I think—”

“You should get a lawyer.”

Your heart stops. “What?”

He runs both hands over his face, the heaviness of this conversation clearly weighing on him as well. “We need to figure out some type of custody arrangement, and I don’t think us handling it with each other is a good idea—”

“Custody?” The room is starting to blur again, items moving wayward and sideways. The ringing in your ears is also returning. “What—you—you want to take her from me?” You need to sit down, your legs feeling like they’re ready to give out at any moment. Take her. He wants to take her from you. Unable to control yourself, you snap, “she doesn’t even know you!”

He matches your tone and volume precisely, clearly unwilling to back down. “Exactly, I’m her father, and she doesn’t know me because of you!”

You can barely believe the words coming out his mouth, incapable of processing that he’s actually standing here threatening to take your child from you. This has gone from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. “So, you think taking her away from me is the way to get to know her?”

His volume levels down a bit, and you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of sympathy. “I don’t want to take her away from you, Y/N. I just can’t trust you to not keep her away from me.”

This is disastrous. You never could you have envisioned this conversation playing out the way it is. Desperate, you move over to him, needing him to see you, to hear you, really hear you. “You’re here now, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough?” 

His answer surprises you with its austerity. He’s so angry. “No, because it took almost five fucking years for you to call me in the first damn place.”

He moves away from you, obviously headed for the door. He has nothing else to say. Your head is throbbing, vision still murky, but you manage to rush past him, obstructing his leave. “Joe….wait.”

You’ve never felt so small, so desperate, so helpless in your life. It’s reminiscent of the last conversation you had with him five years prior, that same boulder on your chest, bigger now. Much bigger. 

“Please.” You’re not even trying to hold in the tears anymore. That’s not even important. Not in the slightest. This is your child.  “Please don’t take her away from me. She’s my baby, Joe. She—she’s never even been without me before.”

He looks at you, and you can see it now. Finally see it. Finally see past all of the hurtful threats, the dismissiveness, the refusal to hear you out. He’s not angry. He’s hurt. “And she’s never been with me.” He moves past you, but not before one last statement. “Maybe now you’ll know how I feel.”

________

just curious, ya'll think joe trippin? personally, i'm team callie cause both reader and joe are wrong in one way or another but im also biased so ignore me.

[genderqueerdykes]

re : cishet men allies

im an arab muslim and my country is *not* great for queer ppl, as in its a jailable offense. when i was 16 i started to realize i liked girls and was internally freaking the FUCK out especially because of the only two queer people i knew, one was my crush and the other had kinda ditched me so i couldnt talk to either about it

the first person i ever came out to a cishet dude, an at the time recent close friend. i dont remember what he said anymore, i think it was something along the "thats totally ok and normal" spiel lines, but i do remember his tone of voice. it was soft and calming and really warm, exactly what i needed at the time. i talked to him about my crush for the rest of the year and it was just. all really nice and normal. one time our professor started making homophobic comments in class and my friend started miming mockery at him from behind his back. we were quiet about it, but we kinda had to be. the company was really all that mattered

a year or so later i told another cishet dude, friend of the first one actually. he also accepted me wholeheartedly. i was calling myself a bi lesbian at the time and i truly did not expect him to understand that but he really surprised me !! not only was he really chill about it, more chill than most queer ppl online, he said he knew someone else who was like that. i didnt know i was trans at the time, but i did have a chosen name that i tentatively introduced to him as like a maybe sort of nickname. even though i introduced it as a silly joke more than anything, he actually did call me that now and then

sincerely i would be a lot worse off without those two. we drifted apart but they were so fucking important in keeping me sane those years

that is absolutely incredible, i am so happy to hear that, holy shit. i can only imagine how isolating it would've been to go through that with no one to talk to about it. i'm glad that you had not only one, but two supportive cishet allies in your life, and especially as one who was totally chill about you coming out as a bisexual lesbian. that incredible, i'm so glad you had that during such a scary time

the thing i like to point out is i don't think it's fair to assume that everyone in a country with queerphobic laws agrees with those laws. it feels racist to me for someone to imply that the vast majority of people in a given country are inherently queerphobic just because of the laws of their governments. sure there will be some who agree, but plenty who don't. i'm glad that even though it's dangerous for you to be queer there, you have had support. stay safe, take care of yourself