#but please read with caution

[wishiwasfiction]

(you have nothing to apologise for, you're not doing anything wrong)

(adding read more for comfort and also there's some triggering shit under it)

honestly? spite.

and not the cute, quirky 'oh, someone told me I don't deserve to live so I'm gonna live to prove them wrong!' type of spite, though I know that works excellently for some people.

no, I'm talking about clenched teeth, rage at the injustice of the world, you tried to break me and you fucking failed type of spite.

knowing that every day I live is a day beyond what I was meant to get, beyond what I was 'allowed', beyond what they tried to turn me into.

knowing that everything I experience is breaking the rules, especially the bad. I wasn't meant to be sad or in pain or feel all the fear. But I am anyway, because they don't fucking deserve to win.

my well of hatred for the people that hurt me, my desire for revenge, is so deep and powerful that it eclipses all else.

for a long time I was convinced that there was nothing in the world I could hate more than myself, but that was before I got the memories of what happened back. safe to say, I was wrong.

there is nothing in existence that could make me forgive them, or to move on, or to not be angry.

I will drag myself off a bridge with white knuckles because I have lost so much to them, I will not lose my life too.

It would be easy to fall to it, the urges, the pain, the trauma. they made sure it would be easy. but for once in my fucked up life I'm not taking the easy route. I refuse.

I've spent my entire life playing their shitty fucking game of pretend, I'm not dying before I can escape it. I'm not surrendering my chance to exist without their shitty rules, not now and not ever.

If they want me dead they can fucking do it themselves.

I'm very sorry to ask something like this, I've really been struggling with this question, and I wanted to ask the combined wisdom of the people on this site

I would like to know why you keep going, and what drives you to keep living. I know there are a lot of reasons to stay alive and enjoy life, I can think of a few that personally resonate with me, but I really want to know what your reasons are

You do not have to comment on this if that's too big of an ask, and I'm very sorry for asking something like this, I really need someone's help, I feel like I don't have much purpose

Also if I may ask, please don't post any suicidal ideation in the comments of this post, I really can't handle something like that right now

[niccoguedes]

Hotel Room 1980

"He grants my every wish"

[hasello]

TW: BLOOD AND INJURIES

first/next

“Have any of the boys worried the rest?” was the question. The answer is INDEED.

Notes: Raph tried to fight all the negative thought and anxiety (which I tried to show through the black fog) but only ended up wrecking his room and hurting himself. Just to be clear, in case I didn’t show it properly. Also the cup of tea was brought by his fam, but he was so out of it he didn’t even notice they visited.

[fuckhouse2theelectricboogaloo]

What the actual Kentucky deep fried fuck????

[afewproblems]

For the angst prompts ;

"You look like hell." "I feel like it."

Famous Eddie showing up on Steve’s doorstep years after Eddie left

Oooo love this idea, thank you very much for sending it Nonny! I hope you enjoy!

***

"So, he's back in town," Robin says instead of a greeting into the receiver, a leading lilt in her voice.

Steve sighs and knocks his head into the wall beside the mounted hand set, "yeah".

She hums, the sound crackles over the line like static in Steve's ear.

"You want me to come over?" Robin asks carefully, as though dismantling a bomb, picking through what to say as gently as she can, hoping it's right.

And Steve hates it.

He hates that even after all these years, Eddie Munson can get right under his skin like this.

It should have ended back in '88, when Eddie had left them all behind to 'make it big'.

Or at least, that's what the note had said.

The one in hastily scribbled blue ink, dropped on the cold and empty side of the bed that Eddie had left. Steve had awoken alone, with only the note and the smell of weed and cigarettes and sex on his sheets.

He had tried calling the trailer, only for Wayne to pick up and explain that Eddie had been planning this for weeks, 'didn't Ed tell you?'

Eddie had left for New York along with Gareth, Jeff, and Grant, bound for city lights and a better music scene.

No, Eddie hadn't told him, but Steve didn't say that. How could he?

Instead, he thanked Wayne, his voice hoarse, and hummed something close to a yes when Wayne asked if Steve would make sure to drop by when he had time, the Pacers season had started after all.

"Steve?"

Robin's voice breezes through the phone again, jolting him back to the present.

"Sorry Birdy," he sighs, shaking the last memories of the Munson's from his mind, "don't worry about me, really".

She scoffs and Steve can almost picture the way she's certainly rolling her eyes, "I always worry about you Dingus, that's what I'm here for".

"I know".

They talk for a little longer, speculating on how much longer Clinton will last in office now that the truth has come out and which of them would host the finale of Seinfeld --'it deserves a special night Steve, we are taping it, getting as many snacks as we can, and indulging in some good old misanthropic comedy'.

He tells her goodnight after another half hour, and insists that he'll be okay.

And he will, of course he will.

It's been ten years since Eddie Munson set foot in Hawkins, and there was absolutely no reason for them to run into one another.

Well, sure, he still kept in touch with Wayne over the years --how could he not when the old man seemed to pull excuses to see him out of thin air.

Robin had always cautioned Steve on his continued relationship with Wayne, questioning why he insisted on maintaining contact with Steve.

But it was nice to have someone to watch the game with over a beer, the occasional barbecue in the summer and hell, Steve had even celebrated a Thanksgiving or two or three with Wayne Munson.

With Steve cutting off his own parents years back, it was nice to feel like he had still had someone looking out for him.

And really, there was no reason for Eddie and Steve to run into one another.

Steve would be fine.

***

It's almost a week after his call with Robin that the doorbell rings and Steve's world comes to a stop.

He's putting away the small grocery trip, and to call it that was a bit ridiculous considering the snack to fruit ratio, but Robin had been very specific about their Seinfeld watch party slated for the coming weekend.

Steve opens the fridge door to pop the milk in, tossing a, "coming!" over his shoulder as the bell rings a second time.

Steve hopes it isn't his neighbor again as he makes his way to the front hall of his small home. It would be her third time angrily telling him that the tree in his backyard had shed even more crabapples over the fence and into her yard.

And considering their postage stamp lots, where else was the poor tree going to do it?

"Look Mrs. Patterson," he says wearily as he flips on the porch light and opens the front door, "I'm going to do something about the branches this weekend--"

But it isn't Mrs. Patterson standing on his front porch.

It's Eddie Munson.

Steve blinks, feeling as though part of himself has been wrenched from his own body to watch from above. His palms are sweaty all of a sudden and there's a tightness in his chest that grips his lungs, he can't breathe.

Eddie tries for a half wave and a smile, but the effect is lost as Steve continues to stand in shocked silence.

He's thin; Eddie had always been on the lanky side but his shoulders were still broad and he was strong enough to lug his band equipment around. He's almost gaunt now, with deep set bags under his brown eyes. His curly hair hangs somewhat limp over his shoulders and he reeks of stale cigarettes.

But it's undeniably Eddie Munson standing at his front door.

There are so many questions, and Steve wants nothing more than to demand answers if he can manage to get the words out without yelling.

What are you doing here? Why are you here now? How did you know where I live?

How could you leave like that?

"You look like hell," Steve says instead, his grip tightens on the door frame as Eddie drops his head in a nod.

"I feel it".

His voice is slightly deeper, more gravely in tone now than it was ten years back.

But perhaps that's what screaming into a microphone and partying in New York for ten years will get you.

"How did you know where I live?" Steve asks after another beat of strained silence.

"Uh, Wayne, I ask him about you a lot and about half the time he'll give me an answer when he's not calling me a dumbass and telling me to call you myself".

"Wayne has been telling you about me" Steve says faintly, feeling as though he might be sick on Eddie's shoes.

Wayne, someone that Steve had been looking up to, getting advice from, and spending so much time with, had been doing so just for Eddie.

All this time.

Robin had been right to tell him to be careful.

"Leave," Steve whispers suddenly, making Eddie step back in surprise, "I don't want to see you, either of you, again".

"Wha--no, Steve, wait!"

But the door is already closing, slammed against Eddie's hands that knock and knock, pleading with him to open the door, to just hear him out.

But how can he?

It wasn't just Eddie showing up after all these years, but on top of that, everything that he thought he had with Wayne had all been some ploy to help his nephew keep tabs on him.

He'd let himself be hurt again, by another fucking Munson, one he thought he could trust.

Steve locks the door and flips off the porch light, uncaring of the muffled curse from the other side of the wood.

He doesn't want to hear what Eddie has to say, after all, Eddie hadn't cared enough to stick around all those years ago.

Why should Steve?

[hypnagogics]

when you spend the day writing through tears, that's how you know it's angst. my heart hurts and im the one making up all this wicked shit😭😭 send sos STAT

[scp-torment]

SCP-8980 - Ergophobia: Without Regards

Written by Yossipossi

Please note that this article contains extremely sensitive material. Viewer discretion is heavily advised. The full list of sensitive topics (which necessitates spoiling some topics that will come up) is as follows:

• Explicit and Implicit Misogyny

• Prolonged Psychological Abuse

• Prolonged Institutional Abuse

• Severe Psychological Trauma/Torture

• Institutional and Personal Gaslighting

• Physical Violence

• Prolonged Isolation

• Implications of Sexual Assault

• Sexual Assault Analogies

• Mentions of Sexual Acts

Please ensure you are emotionally and physically capable of reading the article before proceeding. There is an in-universe content warning mid-article that marks when more serious themes become increasingly prominent in the story.

This article is a work of fiction, and resemblance of any character to any real-life persons are purely coincidental. This article is, nonetheless, based on several true stories.

[wondrouswendy]

Forget to Remember, Chapter 7 Fandom: Alan Wake (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fictional Alex Casey/Alan Wake, Alex Casey/Alan Wake, Alan Wake & Barry Wheeler, Alan Wake & Alice Wake Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Canon Compliant, Canon Retelling, POV First Person, Romance, Horror, Angst, Drama, Humor, Friendship, Character Study, Self-Discovery, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Miscommunication, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Established Relationship, Alan Wake Has 99 Problems and Dramatic Irony Is #1 Series: Part 2 of Kill Your Darlings Summary: The trip to Bright Falls was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, a chance to get out from under the collapsed remains of my writing career and to reconnect with my wife. But it was just another part of the spiral. The longest fall into dark depths. I landed into the arms of the person I least expected, the hero I had forgotten.

Alan faces a long afternoon waiting around Elderwood National Park before he can confront the kidnapper at Lovers' Peak. Time spent idling, however, leads him to have to confront the circumstances which pushed him and his wife to take a vacation in the first place.

Read Chapter 07 here on Ao3!

[acourtofquestions]

"And who, exactly, are you?"

Dorian gave the witch one of those charming smiles and sketched a bow. "Dorian Havilliard, at your service."

"The king," one of the Crochans murmured from near the wyverns.

Dorian winked. "That I am, too."

[tending-the-hearth]

Also Jasmine almost kills Jafar using dark magic and we get a whole genie backstory about how his wife died in the apocalypse within the djinn’s world

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

3. what is your muse’s biggest regret? 

✧ ━━ 𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

I don't think it's a shock to anyone that Robin's biggest regret was something he actually had no choice in; but feels like he does - even then in his current state of lore, its been so long that I'm not sure its a regret but more so nostalgic longing or a quietly whispering "what if". I'm of course talking about The Pipes in his lore; a repair on his house that he never really thought about since he was 15 and was studying up in Piltover trying to make ends meet for his impoverished family. The event was so traumatic and life altering that I'm genuinely unsure of where he would have ended up if it didn't occur - unfortunately it is basically Robin's canon event. Hell even my Arcane Verse ( its a WIP but its coming I promise all ) its already years past that event. Granted I will ALWAYS say that if he had even just 1 true friend during it, he'd have been okay, Robin was not born evil. But he had absolutely no one to help him.

He's convinced himself that somehow it was his fault that the pipes decided to give out the same night he just happened to spend the night studying. And he does wonder about it since well ... Everything leads into eachother:

Pipe Issue ->

Leaking Gas ->

Familial Death ->

Depression ->

Decline in Academic Performance ->

Abandonment from his Professors ->

His Project is not Funded ->

Demonic Contact Ensues ->

Back down into the Underbelly of Zaun ->

Death ->

Eventually landing in Ionia.

Even at the top of the world side by side with @hemoplagued he's still haunted by the last time he saw his little sister on that terrible day. I'm not sure he'll ever truly let go of his survivor's guilt.

[tinukis]

i think about trans sanji a lot... mtf or ftm he's transgender (or genderfluid ♥️)

but i think about ftm sanji and his struggles with his identity. his self hatred, self esteem, and toxic masculinity... i think about ftm sanji a lot...

i have stuff from my notes app. one was meant to be written as a fic but i gave up so it's incomplete. this takes place after wci and before wano. warnings are below the cut and in the tags, please read with caution.

trigger warning - gender dysphoria, child abuse (may be graphic.), misgendering, self-harm

Sanji wishes he was never a man. Let alone be born with the genital of a woman's.

He loves women. He admires them. Their beauty, their bodies, their smile, their femininity, everything. He wishes he could be just like them, that was his assigned sex, after all. Yet as a child, every time he stared at himself in the mirror, he would be staring at someone else. He did see a girl, but it wasn't him.

It's his turn on night watch. As everyone exchanges their goodnights and enter the cabin, Sanji climbs into the crow's nest and leaned against the window where the moonlight shined. His hand over his heart and crumpling his shirt into his fist. They just left Whole Cake Island but now that half his crew learned about the Vinsmokes, he was only filled with dread and anxiety.

They knew too much and there was nothing he can do about it but fill his lungs with tobacco. He knew they wouldn't pry further and he was relieved that they still see him the same but... It was being confronted by his Captain he dreaded the most. He didn't care about anyone's past nor does he try to look into them, but after everything Sanji did to Luffy and what Luffy did for him, he doesn't know what the hell to expect anymore.

Sanji knows Luffy would notice something's wrong and he couldn't avoid him forever. What was he supposed to tell him anyway?

Oh everything's fine, Luffy. Just you know, I've been reminded what sex I was born as and how I grew up hating myself because I'm actually a man. And I hated being a man because of how all the men in my life raised and treated me. I feel like I have betrayed all the women in my life. But other than that, I'm fine, Captain.

He puffs out a trail of smoke with a long exhale, clutching his head and pulling his hair that covered his right eye. He only wishes for silence but the calm waves below. Not his shitty thoughts about his identity or what lessons he'd been taught on Kamabakka Kingdom. With little to nonexistent self-worth, it was fucking hard to accept who he is. He needed no one elses approval but his own.

—

"Mother... is it wrong to feel like a boy?" Sanji fiddled with his thumbs, sitting on the edge of his mother's bed. His back was turned towards her, but he could hear her smile.

"What makes you feel that, Sanji?"

"... I don't know. My heart feels bad and heavy when I am a girl," Sanji hugged himself tight, gritting his teeth to hold back his tears. His brothers told him a man doesn't cry, otherwise he'd never be considered or respected as one.

"Sanji, look at me," his mother's voice was soft and full with kindness.

Sanji slowly turned his head, sniffling his red nose with his tearful eyes. His mother gently cupped over his cheek and wiped away the teardrops overflowing from the corner of his eye.

"Follow what your heart feels, Sanji. Despite what your father says, you continue seeing me, right? Continue with what your heart desires."

...

If only it were that easy.

—

"I was born wrong," said Sanji.

"Clearly," responded father. Unsure what he had meant by that, Sanji was overjoyed to be treated as a boy going forward.

A man was not who he wanted to be, yet those feelings of euphoria when dressed alike to his brothers and referred to as a "son" or "he" were undeniable.

It was a bit of surprise that even his brothers were forced to comply. But that doesn't stop their bullying and abuse whenever left alone with them.

–

"We're only wrestling! It's what boys do!" Yonji exclaimed with his arm strangled around Sanji's neck. Sanji tugged and tugged, attempting to escape his grasp only for Yonji to flex tighter.

"You're a boy, right, Sanji? Then act like one! Reiju is more of a man than you are!" Niji laughed, swinging a harsh kick into Sanji's shin.

Sanji was gasping between breaths, his skin turning from a shade of red to blue. For once, Yonji obliged but that moment of refreshing release was cut short by Ichiji's foot to Sanji's mouth.

"If you're a man, then stand up!" Ichiji yelled, kicking Sanji again by his stomach, not giving him a single chance for a breath of air. Coughed up blood splattered over the red carpet and Ichiji's white pants.

"Eww! She spat out blood!" Yonji exaggerated his gagging with his tongue lolled out his mouth and pointing into it.

Sanji shakily forced himself up, bloodied and bruised. His brothers smirked at him, intrigued that he was even capable of standing up after a beating.

"I'm... I'm not a she!!!" Sanji shouted and panted heavily. He knelt over, clutching onto his growling stomach that was building up his throat.

"Oh yeah? If you're not a girl, then," without warning, Niji swung his leg across Sanji's head, forcing a crack into the castle's walls. "Try not to pass out!"

His brothers waited for their useless brother to even breathe one shallow breath. Sanji couldn't move a single muscle, yet he was still conscious. When he heard heavy footsteps, his eyes widened and his heart beat grew steady. Sanji cried out for his father, but his throat felt clogged and not a word was heard.

"H-hel...p... me..." Sanji sputtered with quivering lips. His brothers laughed aloud, every time their mouths opened their words would never be positive.

The heavy footsteps got closer and Sanji turned his head towards that direction, staring at his father's unchanged expression. The burning sensation from his stomach rose. It ached terribly and he couldn't do anything but cry.

"F-fath— MGH—!" Sanji vomited on the carpet, his brothers expressed their disgust and laughed. When Sanji's eyes met with Judge, he was stared down at with revulsion. He bit back the bottom of his lip, trying to prevent tears or vomiting again, he couldn't tell what was happening anymore. It was like the room started to spin, the laughter dissipating in the background before everything turned to black.

–

The only people in Sanji's life that even treated him with kindness were women. His bedridden mother, his bystander sister, and the maids. But his mother was long gone for months. All he became accustomed to was the gray brick walls, steel bars caging him in, and a heavy iron helmet upon his head. The only people that ever kept him company were the Germa soldiers. But of course, they never bothered with conversations and only responded to Sanji's needs. He was even lucky that his requests for books were allowed.

Being kept alive, rotting in this dungeon was a fate worse than Hell. His hair grew longer and it felt so damn itchy. But with the stupid mask over his head, he couldn't satisfy the itch. Sanji had to resort to scratching his arms until they burnt and glowed red. Sometimes he'd scratch hard enough that it'd draw blood. He'd only stop once his arms started to bleed.

Sometimes Sanji refused baths. He wasn't comfortable with either a man or even a woman scrubbing him clean. He didn't want to do it all himself. He didn't want to look at the bare body he couldn't stand to look at. He wanted his mother. He wanted Reiju.

Since Sanji refused to have a bath because of the growing pit in his stomach grew each time he had to strip down, reminded of the body that shouldn't be his. The Germa soldiers resorted to soaking him with a hose and drop off his preferred choice of clothing.

That was all these past months of hell Sanji lived through alone in the dark and dank dungeon. The isolated loneliness was more agonizing than being beaten like a worn out punching bag by his brothers. Despite the amount of bruises and broken bones they may have caused, he missed them.

But maybe he thought too soon. Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji found him, surprised that he was still alive. They purposely spoke aloud how killing Sanji would likely make their father happy. His heart began to race like it was about to burst right out of his chest. Once they got the gate unlocked, they approached Sanji slowly, making him backed against the cold brick wall.

It was the same cycle as previously. Maybe even worse now as they were beneath the palace so no one would hear Sanji scream and cry for help.

–

Liquid rolls down Sanji's forearm and his cigarette burnt out. His nails dug into his skin deep enough to draw blood. Shit. No matter the pain he's given himself, it will never get rid of the filthy hands that bruised his body.

Sanji tosses his cigarette into the ashtray and lights another.

Why couldn't the good people in his life just leave him to rot?

[hasello]

TW: BLOOD, INJURIES

next

I decided to answer these with one comic, which is going to be very hurt/comfort (I always do the comfort, don’t worry!). I know I said this au is mostly for fun, but then I couldn’t help myself - sorry. I also couldn’t decide whether to split it in parts or just wait and post the whole thing, but in the end it’s gonna be awhile before I finish so here you go. Choosing which turtles to write about was hard, too!

Also thank you all so much for all the love and kind words, you’re all so lovely!! Sorry I’m so slow with answering, but I swear I’m very grateful for all the questions and complements! I’m very happy you like the AU ❤️

[damianito]

Hi! I've been seeing bsd on your blog(is that what it's called? I'm new to tumblr) and I was wondering in what order to read the manga? there's so much content that it's confusing me lol

The thing about Bungou Stray Dogs is that the manga can be read as it is, without anything else, but if you want to have more depth into characters & details.

There's the light novels which are side stories from the main plot, like Dazai's entrance exam, Stormbringer, The origin of the detective agency, 15 soukoku, etc.

An order for the light novel in releasing dates

1. Osamu Dazai's entrance exam

2. Dazai Osamu to kuro no jidai

3. The untold origin of the detective agency

4. 55 minutes

6. Dead apple

7. BSD Beast

8. 15 soukoku

9. Stormbringer

There's also the current going of 15 Soukoku drawn by Shiwasu Hoshikawa (Which also illustrated BSD Beast if you wanna read the manga)

We have BSD Wan which is our piece of fluff. Little chibis of our characters being silly, animated & also on manga.

[thedarkcoven]

This Is Not A Dream | Master List

-Edit made by me using pics found on Google. I DO NOT take any form of credit other than the edit :) WARNING! 18+ Content Ahead. MINORS DNI!  Smut. Slight Drinking. Threesome. Manipulation. Dark isn’t a nice person/demon. Natemare is a little shit. Dark and Mare are obsessive and possessive. Antisepticeye is like a big brother to reader. Choking. Hair pulling. Slight abuse. Some noncon/dubcon. Talk of religion/witchcraft (ex: demons, god complex, sacrifices, etc). Bondage themes. Talk of mental health. Mind play. Dark magic. Shadow tentacle usage. Monster-f’ing (since demons are technically monsters). Blood/gore. Dark themes so if any of this makes you uncomfy please do not read. -If I can think of any more I will add them- 

Its been years since you started your career, starting as a side job, of creating Youtube videos. Out of celebration of your tenth year and meeting so many amazing friends over the years, your best friend Seán also known as Jacksepticeye has come up with a plan of having a get together for a few weeks. Things seem fine at first until one you run across what you thought was an abandoned shack only to have the events of a great time turn dark.  ~Chapters will be updated as I finish them -Chapters- Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

[lilflowerpot]

heyy i know this isnt exactly empire related but how are half galra genrally seen by their non galra counterparts? i have my assumptions on it but i rlyy like your thoughts and worldbuilding regarding these things

Imperial opinion of Keith as a hybrid | Imperial racism against non-galra | would Lotor’s hybrid status impact his imperial reputation? | hybrid lifespans | Lotor’s altean strength: a blessing or a curse? | Imperial opinion of galra hybrids

I've spoken about many different facets of how the galra view their hybrids, but said very little about the other side of things, so I'm very glad you thought to ask! Ultimately, it depends on the non-galra parent species' (NGPS for short) relationship with the Empire.

If said NGPS has been a part of the Empire for long enough to be considered true Imperial citizens—by which I mean they have equal rights to galra citizens (on the surface, at least)—then to be the parent of a galra hybrid may open several doors for the whole family; I imagine state benefits likely favour galra children, and certainly nursery colonies would offer a hybrid child a place before a non-galra child, meaning that the whole family would be offered the opportunity to relocate to one such utopian microcosm of the very best the Empire has to offer. Something to remember however, is that non-galra Imperial citizens are technically prohibited from engaging in intimate relationships with galra Imperial citizens... so the very existence of a hybrid child would outright prove that this law was violated. Who ends up taking the blame for this violation varies—the NGP for "seducing" the galra parent? The galra parent for "debasing" themselves with the NGP?—but what remains paramount regardless is the well-being of the child as, hybrid or no, they are still galra.

If, however, the NGPS was not yet comprised of true imperial citizens (ie. still a slave colony rather than a vassal state) it is entirely possible that the hybrid child in question was not conceived willingly, and naturally that's going to lead to some horribly complicated and completely understandable feelings; the child will likely never be just a child, but a terrible reminder of the violence endured, not only to the particular individual involved but also to their people as a whole. Even if conception was entirely consensual (though when one party isn't deemed to have rights, this is still a deeply grey area) the NGP would have no parental rights to the child due to the Empire not yet recognising their species as //people// but rather considering them //property//, and so from a legal standpoint the child would have only one parent: the galra one.