#childs cot

[fla-t-line]

I love this quote sm

[the-parasaurolophus]

:0)

[wouldyourfavepaychildsupport]

Would the caught-cot merger pay child support?

Image from Wikipedia

[coochiequeens]

Yes it's form a conservative source. But it's one of the few articles that doesn't focus on reproductive purchasers who felt entitled to a child.

by Emma Waters, @EMLWATERS

Olivia Maurel was 30 years old when an ancestry DNA test confirmed what she had known all along: she is the product of a costly commercial surrogacy contract. In Olivia’s case, the woman that her parents paid to gestate and birth Olivia is also her biological mother. 

In a recent article with Daily Mail, Olivia shared how “becoming a parent myself — entirely naturally, in my mid-20s — has only crystallized my view. The sacred bond between mother and baby is, I feel, something that should never be tampered with.” After going viral for her testimony before the parliament of the Czech Republic, Olivia now campaigns for the universal abolition of surrogacy. 

In the United States, only three states prohibit or do not enforce commercial surrogacy contracts. One of the states, Michigan, is poised to overturn their ban on surrogacy-for-pay through a nine-bill “Access to Fertility Healthcare Package.” Legislators are tying their efforts to the national conversation on in vitro fertilization in hopes of garnering additional support. I detail the concerns with this legislation in detail here, but suffice it to say it undermines motherhood by reducing the intimate relationship between a woman and the child she carries to a highly-lucrative rental agreement. 

Several well-respected researchers and pundits claim that surrogacy does not harm children. Yet we know very little about its long-term impact on a child’s psychological well-being. 

Most of those who assert that surrogacy is psychologically harmless rely on a longitudinal study by Susan Golombok, Professor Emerita of Family Research, and former Director of the Centre for Family Research at the University of Cambridge. She is the author of We Are Family (2020), a synthesis of 40 years of research on non-traditional family structures—same-sex, single parent by choice, and the use of all forms of assisted reproductive technology, including third-party conception. She concludes that such arrangements pose no additional harm and can benefit children.

Professor Golombok’s “Families Created Through Surrogacy” study began in 2003 and assessed parental and child psychological adjustment at ages 1, 2, 3, 7, 10, and 14. The impact of this single longitudinal study on both public opinion and policy cannot be overstated. To date, it is the only study that specifically examines the surrogate-born child’s psychological adjustment, as well as the only study to do so over an extended period. It is also the only research on child psychological well-being that policymakers in New York used to argue for the legalization of commercial surrogacy. 

Professor Golombok’s sample of surrogacy families comes from the General Register Office of the United Kingdom for National Statistics (ONS) and from the UK’s “Childlessness Overcome Through Surrogacy” (COTS) agency. The original sample included 42 surrogate-born children but declined to a mere 28 children by age 14. The study relied on a group of families formed through egg donation and children born of natural conception to serve as the comparison groups. 

With such a small sample size, and some families participating inconsistently year-to-year, the study itself runs the risk of selection bias and non-representative outcomes. The study lumps both children born through gestational surrogacy and traditional surrogacy together, too. This means some surrogates are both the genetic mother and the child's gestational mother. 

Additionally, only altruistic surrogacy is legal in the UK, so these arrangements do not involve surrogates who legally receive an additional sum of money, beyond generous reimbursements. For context, surrogacy-for-pay brings in an additional $25,000 to $70,000 in the United States, which may affect how a child views his or her conception, gestation, and birth. 

In each study, the scholars rely on the mother’s own assessment of the child’s well-being. It is not until age 14 when scholars begin to directly ask children questions to assess their self-esteem.

Overall, Professor Golombok concludes that children born from surrogacy agreements of any sort do as well, if not better, psychologically than their natural-born peers. 

For ages 1, 2, and 3, Professor Golombok finds that parents in surrogacy families showed “greater warmth and attachment-related behavior” than natural-conception parents. One explanation for this, as Professor Golombok’s notes, is that “parents of children born in this way [may] make a greater attempt than parents of naturally conceived children to present their families in the best possible light.” Such a bias seems likely, given that parents may feel the subconscious desire to justify their uncommon path to parenthood. 

By age 7, both surrogate-born children and donor-conceived children in the control group were doing noticeably worse than their natural-born counterparts. This is the point when many children learned of their biological or gestational origins. The scholars note that this corresponds with adoption literature as the period in a child’s life when they begin to comprehend the loss of one or both biological parents. What goes unnoted, however, is that unlike adoption, surrogacy is the intentional creation of a child for the express purpose of removing the child from his or her gestational and/or biological parent(s). 

Beginning at age 10, scholars report that the child’s psychological adjustment returns to a relatively normal state compared to the natural-born children, but the study itself reports little data compared to previous papers. By age 14, when the study concludes, the remaining 28 children seem to fare about the same as natural-born children, despite slightly more psychological problems reported. 

Despite these methodological limitations, Professor Golombok’s data from this longitudinal study remains the basis of child psychological adjustment research on surrogacy. Examples of this may be found in prominent pieces such as Vanessa Brown Calder's review of surrogacy at the Cato Institute or Cremieux Recueil's widely shared Substack with Aporia Magazine. Their conclusions that surrogacy confers “no harm” to the psychological well-being of the child are premature, to say the least.

In Calder’s article, she cites three studies in her discussion on the psychological well-being of surrogate-born children. A quick review of each study shows that these authors rely solely on Professor Golombok’s longitudinal study data to draw their conclusions. 

In Recueil’s Substack, "Surrogacy: Looking for Harm," he primarily relies on Golombok’s work to claim that “psychological harm appears to be minimal.” Again, this statement is premature and formed on limited data primarily from her longitudinal study. The other five citations in the “Psychological Outcomes for Kids” section tell us little about the psychological well-being of surrogate-born children. 

Recueil twice cites “Are the Children Alright? A Systematic Review of Psychological Adjustment of Children Conceived by Assisted Reproductive Technologies,” from 2022. Of the 11 studies that examine the intersection between surrogacy and child psychological outcomes, they fall into three categories: 

the longitudinal study by Professor Golombok 

child outcomes compared with other children born from assisted reproductive technology, not compared with natural-born children 

studies that examine the impact of non-traditional parenting types, such as lesbian mothers or gay fathers, on the well-being of the child. The impact of surrogacy is not directly assessed; it is simply mentioned as a requirement for male-to-male family formation. Of these three categories, the only studies that directly address the claims that Recueil makes are the research of Professor Golombok, which he already cited before these additional studies. 

Hence, the widespread claim that surrogacy does not harm the psychological well-being of children primarily relies on a single longitudinal study of 42-to-28 surrogate-born children by the intended mother’s own assessment. That’s it. 

This isn’t to say we should discard Professor Golombok’s study. But honest scholars and lawmakers should be far more modest in claiming that surrogacy does not harm the psychological well-being of children. 

The most accurate conclusion regarding the psychological adjustment of surrogate-born children is that we do not have enough data to draw a conclusion either way, especially not in favor of surrogacy itself. When the well-being of children is at stake, lawmakers and researchers should employ the utmost scrutiny before advocating for any form of childbearing. 

Children rightly desire to please their parents, and there are few conversations more complicated than questioning the method one’s parents chose to bring one into the world. There is reason to believe that many surrogate-born children will not have the emotional or mental maturity to understand their conception and gestation until they are much older.

There is a huge difference between no harm and no known harm. Regardless of one’s stance on surrogacy, we should be able to agree that we need more data and reporting requirements to enable researchers to assess the impact of surrogacy contracts on the well-being of children. In my view, a single six-part longitudinal study does not justify this practice. 

Emma Waters is a Senior Research Associate for the Richard and Helen DeVos Center for Life, Religion and Family at The Heritage Foundation.

[seldnei]

I just got told “Mom, I am not going to argue about this with you” from the 17 year old, and damn but I didn’t do that to my parents until I was in my 20s.

[direwombat]

wip last line tag

tagged by @adelaidedrubman and @socially-awkward-skeleton

tagging @detectivelokis, @aceghosts, @trench-rot, @deputyash, @river-ward, @inafieldofdaisies, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @schoute, @voidika, @harmonyowl, @purplehairsecretlair, @cassietrn, @madparadoxum, @gaeadene, @g0dspeeed, @ivymarquis, and anyone else wanting to share!

here are the closing lines of the penultimate scene for the jakesyb abo fic.

“Oh, I promise. I’ll ruin you, sweetheart,” [Jacob] answers, his arms tightening around her. “I’ll make you mine. You ain’t gonna want anyone else when I’m done with you.”

The words should scare [Sybille]. Such violent possessiveness reminds her of her father. But instead of being afraid, she’s comforted. Here, in the arms of a cultist and killer, she sleeps sounder than she ever has in her life. 

[objectshowshipper]

Child Of Terror au jon thingies,,

• jon is nothing like canon . this man has never faced consequences a day in his life he has absolutely no social anxiety whatsoever

•^related, jon was the favourite sibling in the fucked up eldrich found family (the dad + the cat he said he didnt want dynamic)

• jon has a bunch of avatar friends and an equal amount of avatars who want him dead a million times over . hes just so Fear that any avatar sees him and either immediately decides this is The Guy Ever<3, or wants to punch him for existing

• hes closest w/ The Extinction,, they like to be Creepy Twins™ to scare people

[fideidefenswhore]

so where would anne, george and mary fall in the "five kids in five years" time line if he's the eldest?

hm, well, we don't know what years henry and thomas boleyn died, since the 'c.1520' seems like it was the date their brasses were made, not, obviously, the date of their deaths (both tiny tombs suggest cot deaths). "the exact date of elizabeth's marriage to thomas boleyn is unknown but her jointure was settled on her in 1501 suggesting a recent marriage some time after 1498 [...]"

so, i would think george was maybe born 1499, 1500, or 1501, mary born 1500, 1501, or 1502, and my personal theory is that anne was born either 1503 or 1504 (possibly 1505...)

*also going back to this quote ('general line rather than heirs male'), why would hunsdon have only said 'eldest daughter/sister', not 'eldest child'? the latter would arguably have given him a stronger claim, i'd assume because he knew the first was true but not the second:

"Lord Hunsdon's rather complicated account of the Boleyn titles shows that he had a good grasp of family history. Although his daughter, in her tomb memorial, stated that Mary Boleyn was the second daughter, it seems more likely that Lord Hunsdon was correct. Where the queen was his co-heir to the Boleyn title, he would have wanted to be very sure of his facts." Anne Boleyn: Henry VIII's Obsession, Elizabeth Norton

[maaaxx]

why do you talk about hating ihiap so much 😭😭 its not even bad

if my fics are my kids ihiap is the problematic oldest child.

There are so many plot holes and things that were written impulsively and i dont like the chapter lengths and just stupid details and I hate how i wrote azula and its a mess.

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

RIP Anaya Nasrazeen you would've loved Chase Atlantic

[psyduckbuttercup]

hey so i Fully Believe that telemachus was not afraid of odysseus in Hold Them Down

people may have told him stories of Odysseus, King of Ithaca, Athena's chosen Champion, Hero of Troy

but mama's boy telemachus sat by her feet as she wove tapestry after tapestry; and penelope told her little wolf stories of his father

how they met, how he tripped over himself to woo her, how he cried his eyes out when penelope became pregnant, how telemachus wouldn't sleep in his cot as a baby because he was so used to being in his father's arms because odysseus would not put him down; and yes, how viciously he defended their family when the atrides came to retrieve him for the war

telemachus? the child of the Unhinged Power Couple? who knew very well how horrible those suitors were, how they treated him and spoke of his mother?

took one look at his dad viciously protecting their home, their family, and thought he was the coolest, strongest person ever (after mom ofc)

[p1astr81]

baby piastri - op81

in which: Oscar is learning to take care of his new baby girl.

pairing: dad!oscar piastri x mom!reader

warnings: none I don’t think?? fluff, super short blurb

‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You woke to the sound of yours and Oscar’s child crying. It’s been only three weeks since you brought her home, but it felt like ages, as you have hardly slept. Oscar usually slept through her cries. You never wanted to bother him, so you took care of it yourself despite his many protests.

Tonight was no different. You didn’t care about the time as the concept of it became irrelevant to you in the past weeks. But at some point late in the night, your little Isla started to fuss. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, walking in zombie-like motions toward the baby cradle. You yawned as you reached into her cot, but your hands were met with nothing but air.

All of your senses immediately switched on high. You became more alert than that time you had three energy drinks in one day. You followed the sound of her cries, your feet moving faster than your brain could even process.

Your movements stopped when you saw Oscar pacing around the living room. He kept his usual calm demeanor, but you knew him so well that you could tell he was internally panicking. Little isla flailed in his arms as he softly bounced her around, hoping it would calm her. It didn’t. Her lungs worked overtime as she cried.

There was an open book on the coffee table. One of the books Oscar bought in preparation for the baby. A book all about parenting a new born. He leaned over to read something before turning to Isla, “You want your passy? Is that it?” He asked, offering the piece of plastic right in front of her mouth, but she swatted it away with her little hand. “No? Okay. Are you hungry then?” His voice was soft and low, overflowing with concern. “Mum isn’t awake but I’m sure there’s some food for you in the fridge.” He smiled lovingly down at your daughter.

“Oscar,” you called softly, just loud enough for him to hear you over isla’s screeching cries. His eyes met yours, an amount of remorse in them that you’d never seen before. He sighed. “I’m sorry, hon. I really didn’t want to wake you. I tried to get her to calm down.” He knew how much you’d been doing. How often you’d wake up and how little you slept. He always tried to help but you were so stubborn on being independent. His attention reverted back to the baby girl, tsk-ing out shushes as he tried to calm her.

You grabbed an unfinished bottle from the day before, and met Oscar in the middle of the room to hand it over. “I don’t know how you do it.” He chuckled and joined you on the couch. Luckily, isla clung to the bottle as soon as it was in her reach, solving the problem of her screaming. “You’ll learn,” you replied with a hum and rested your head on his shoulder. It didn’t take long for you to drift away from consciousness.

[taco-rambles]

DC XDP prompt: Danny falls out of a portal literally into Batmans arms in a JL meeting.

Feel free to play with this. I probably will write more, but I'm STUCK and don't know how to write the JL or anyone else for that matter.

XXX

The Justice League meeting had gone very well. For once there were no major crisis from anyone attending, and all of the regular members of the league were in attendance. A few of the second row hero’s had begged off for one reason or another, but nothing that was a threat of any real kind.

Batman was wary, and on edge as the meeting wrapped up. It was never this simple, it just couldn’t be. There was always some kind of threat to keep an eye on, but the worst thing that had come up during the meeting were routine security updates.

No one else seemed to be on edge from the far too calm, routine meeting, and Bruce had just about convinced himself that it was really just one of those meetings where nothing outrageous would happen. It was ideal even…

Then the alarms went off, in the specific modulation that indicated a magical incursion.

Batman wasn’t the only one who’s hands went to weapons when the portal materialized above the meeting room table only a moment after the alarm went off. Swirling lazarus green had him ready for the fight even as the rest of the league went into defensive positions around the incursion.

“What…” Flash started to ask about a minute later when nothing had happened yet, the alarms still blaring.

That’s when something came flying out of the portal, at speed, back first.

Batman had a split second to decide to attack… or not. A split second to try to process the impressions and decide if this was an attack.

The portal closed as he cradled the small body that had crashed into his arms, the alarms silencing a moment later as the rest of the league tried to catch up, all of them wondering if this was some new threat.

Batman looked down at the child in his arms, a boy in his mid teens and small for his age, with white hair framing a frighteningly familiar looking face, gently pointed ears, and fangs in a mouth that gasped for breath against pain. The eyes were closed, twisted tight as the child clutched at his chest and belly, holding together severed flesh that leaked lazarus green blood from a clinical and too regular wound. Fingers tipped with small claws spasmed, tears coming from closed eyes.

“Batman?” Wonder Woman asked, Diana’s voice filled with concern as Bruce wrapped the child in his arms and stood up from where he had been knocked on his ass catching said child.

“Call down to medical. Severely wounded unknown,” he snapped, moving towards the door, only to stop as there was a flash of light in his arms, and the child suddenly gained a solid weight that was closer to human. The blood dripping from passed out hands was now brilliant red, fingertips blunt with chewed nails, the boy’s skin going from pale white to… a healthier tone.

Bruce consciously stopped cataloging his observations then, swiftly making his way to medical. Whatever this boy was, whether he intended to tug at Batman’s heart the way he was or not, was severely wounded and needed medical attention immediately.

He could process it all, and wonder why a child looking exactly like Damian Wayne had been thrown into his arms through a lazarus portal later.

XXXXX

An hour later, after a discreet call to his youngest just to be sure, Bruce watched the now sedated child in the medical cot, working on trying to face match the databases and find out if the child came from earth or not.

The searches primarily turned up Damian Wayne. Bruce knew for certain this child was not his son, but he was also running a DNA analysis because this Might be his son. It made a disheartening amount of sense for this boy to be another version of Damien, perhaps from another dimension, or some manner of clone, or perhaps Talia had simply hidden another child of his away… Bruce needed to narrow down the possibilities, to find the truth.

Of course, it was equally possible that this boy was some manner of mimic, taking on a form that would ensure his safety in unknown environment, a shape shifter intentionally injuring himself in order to infiltrate the Watchtower. Though that last theory didn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Most shape shifters would be secure enough in their abilities to simply try to mimic someone who already had access to the watch tower, to say nothing of the boy’s dramatic entrance.

Batman wasn’t thinking logically. Bruce couldn’t simply leave the boy here though. Not until he knew more, everything relevant by preference. The thought that this might be his son in any way was enough to keep him near, but he could already tell he was compromised.

He had already informed Diana and Clark, and both of them had agreed that he should stay nearby until they had the situation sorted out.

Bruce had been stuck in a circular though pattern for about fifteen minutes when a green form came into the room, J’onn looking at him calmly.

“Can you find anything out?” Batman asked without preamble, unable to bring himself to observe polite pleasantries when he was so unsettled.

“Nothing beyond surface thoughts. The boy’s mind is static and pain of the emotional kind,” J’onn stated after a moment.

Batman nodded, accepting the answer. J’onn’s abilities weren’t always the answer to everything, could indeed often be a crutch that led to the wrong answers. But they could also give the Justice League a starting point often enough.

“You should rest friend. It is unlikely that the boy will awaken soon…” J’onn cut himself off with a quiet look at the boy. “Or not. He’s coming around.”

Batman watched as the child’s eyes blinked open, drowsy expression turning to the two heros without much recognition. Bruce didn’t let himself react, kept himself in a calm pose even as his mind once more went into overdrive.

The boy had blue eyes, not green like Damian's.

[butchizuku]

Untouched ᥫ᭡; Caleb

ᨳ Synop. Questions swirl around your mind as you reacquaint yourself with Caleb, but the most pressing? What was this feeling he stirred within you?

໋𓈒 Details. 18+ minors dni, gn afab reader, slight lore implications regarding Caleb's arm, kissing, heavy petting, general intimacy, dry humping, run time; 1k ৎ

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) Director's Note. Happy Caleb day lovers <33 Just a lil something inspired by his limited five star card.

The mechanical flex and low hum of Caleb’s new fangled arm is disconcerting. Goosebumps prickle your tender skin as it grows closer, the robotic fingers flexing and outstretched. The ample, overwhelming urge for touch choked you, drowning out the strangeness of the past few days. Blood rushes against your ear drums as you tentatively meet him halfway, your fingers curling over the cool, stiff metal of his hand.

“I can’t feel you,” Caleb murmurs, peering at you through his lashes.

His fingers slip between yours but he doesn’t reach out with his other hand. You stand for a moment in limbo, too timid to make another move when pinned beneath his smouldering gaze. His name sits heavy on your tongue, waiting for your lips to part.

“Caleb, I-” you start, quickly trailing off, shrinking into yourself.

Gliding your other hand up the length of his bare abdomen, you struggle to find the right thing to say. You figure, your actions might speak louder than any number of words could. His skin is warm to the touch and smooth with little blemishes to disturb your path from his stomach to his chest. The rhythmic thrum of his heart grows stronger as you place the palm of your hand flat against him for a moment. Pressing himself closer to you, Caleb cups your hand with his.

“You can still feel this,” you murmur, your bottom lip pressed between your teeth, “And this.”

Stepping between his thighs, you press your chest to his. Caleb’s breath grows laboured, it fans across your skin. You can’t help but shiver, in spite of the heat that covers your body like a heavy blanket. It’s surprising how hard the plains of his body are, against yours. Somewhere in the back of your mind, he’s still the pudgy faced kid you grew alongside, though he hadn’t been that child for sometime. Caleb hardened sometime between then and now but you hadn’t seen it, perhaps in part due to the soft gaze he always reserved for you.

“And, I can feel you, Caleb.”

Your words land somewhere between a gasp and a whisper, whisked quickly into the air.

“I’m right here,” Caleb shudders in your grasp, his jaw slack, “And so are you.”

A sound wretched from the deep recesses of his throat slipped forth, vulnerable and frighteningly familiar– thick with wanton desire. Caleb burrows his face into your chest, his nose nestled against the length of your collarbone. His bottom lips drags against your skin, slick with spit, as he speaks.

“Right here.”

His hands glide over your waist and travel up your spine.

“Please,” he murmurs into you like a prayer, half baked and rushed in desperation.

There’s that ache again, deep in the pit of your stomach, thrumming and yelling within you for a modicum of your attention. It seeks the very thing you’ve continued to deny yourself, the thing you’ve forced yourself to see as repulsive. But, was there anything quite as pure as your first love? Could, it really be shameful to want him.

“Caleb,” you breathe, fighting off the trembling nerves that make your fingers shake.

They still shake as you dig them into the flesh of his shoulders, using all your force to push him down onto the flimsy cot. The legs wobble and creak for a moment as the weight shifts and you throw your thighs on top of his. Hair dangles in your face as you peer down at him, your gaze flickering between his lidded eyes marred with confusion and his gently parted lips. They’re chapped and have begun to crack along the edges.

“Kiss me.”

You can’t bring yourself to lean in any closer, your heartbeat drowning everything else out. Your chest heaves with an anxious breath and you have half a mind to whisper, “please.”

The metal of his hand is cold against your flush skin, but it’s feather light in its touch. Creeping over your spine and lightly curling around the base of your neck, Caleb pulls you closer until your lips are but a ghost over his. Bracing your hands on his bare pecs, his other hand keeps you steadied by pressing itself into the dip of your lower back.

Kissing Caleb is akin to what you imagine dipping yourself into molten lava. Your body melds into his, perfectly. There is no trace of the awkward pretense that plagued you or even the confusion turned anger that tinged your vision when you first set your eyes upon him, the first time in months. His tongue slips between your lips like he’s kissed you a thousand times before, and maybe he has in another lifetime or even a dream, but the ease makes your head spin. There is nothing to vocalize as Caleb swallows each and every little sound you make with his kiss, suckling you down to the bone with just his mouth.

Whatever single, precarious thread of respect and distance that kept the two of you at arms length snaps. His hands slide from the small of your back to grip your hips, his fingers jabbing into your doughy flesh. His bulge brushes against your crotch, eliciting a groan from Caleb. Your body moves on its own accord and you find yourself grinding against him even as the bed squeaks obnoxiously. The seam of your jeans pulled taunt and pressed snugly to your clit forces a moan to stumble off the tip of your tongue.

“Show me how sorry you are,” you pant, pressing your nose to his neck, “And how much you missed me.”

Caleb chuckles, nipping at your bottom lip, “You want me so bad it makes you look stupid pipsqueak,” he murmurs with his lips curled up in a grin.

Your protests and the squealed, shrill call of his name is buried into another kiss and pulled from the forefront of your mind as he bucks his hips into yours. He’s hard, you can feel his cock straining against the confines of his slacks, begging for release.

“I’m kidding, I’ll do whatever you wish, my sweetheart.”

His promise is melded against the shell of your ear as he grazes the lobe between his teeth. 

“Just so long as I can have you here in my arms.”

© All content belongs to butchizuku. You are not allowed to modify, translate, redistribute, or plagiarize in anyway. Do not recommend outside of tumblr (tiktok, wattpad, twitter etc).

[chuluoyi]

only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre/warnings: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

general masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

[rebelscums]

Little Flower (Qimir x Padawan reader)

Rating: Fluff | Kissing | Light grinding | A pillow is thrown

Summary: You are the padawan to a masked man you had no name of. You have been by his side for years, training and mastering the arts of what he refers to as the dark side of the force. However, with Mae entering your life as his new favorite, you are beginning to question whether you belong there anymore. Something that you run to your closet fiend to talk about. Who knew confessing to Qimir about your trouble would bring a life changing moment.

“I’m not strong enough for him.” That was the first thing you said to Qirmir as you entered his shop. Borrowed shop? You didn’t care.

The defeat in your tone was enough to alert him of your dismay.

“That’s it. I’m officially useless to him. He doesn’t need me.” You blurted out all of your frustrations to the only person you have ever been able to call a friend, “All he cares about is his new acolyte Mae.”

You were both stationed here with Mae as she completed the next part of her trial which was to kill Master Torbin… Without a weapon.

“What makes you say that?” Qimir popped his head up from behind his counter.

“He’s been making me run these needless errands lately that literally anyone else in the galaxy can do.” You set a bag of powdered gold leaves onto the counter, “This took me an entire day to find and when I go back to the spot I left him, he was gone! Gone! Didn’t tell me where either.” You said frustratingly, “So I figured you might know what to do with this.”

Qimir took the bag and peered inside, a please look on his face as he hummed, “Actually I do. It’s the leaves I need to make a poison Mae requested.”

“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of her name.

Mae seemed to be taking the eyes of your master and Qimir lately. Something that made your eyes turn green with the overpowering feeling of jealousy… Of being abandoned.

“Look, I love Mae and she has become very dear to me, but… I was here first.” You felt like a child for saying that, “I know that sounds selfish, but it feels like he just tossed me aside for a better version.” You looked up at Qimir showing him the hurt and betrayal in your eyes before looking away to try and suppress your feelings, “And maybe… Maybe she is better than me… Maybe I should just take my loss and go.” You spoke in a near whisper, your throat tightening at the thought.

“No!” The way he quickly voiced his answer had you looking up at him waiting for him to continue, “You are strong with the force and an extremely skilled assassin.” He shook his head, “You don’t have to leave.”

You sighed and moved past him and the counter, “But what if he wants me to leave Qi? You don’t understand. It’s like he doesn’t even see me or the power I possess. All he ever says to me is that I’m not ready to become his acolyte and that I need to help Mae ascend yet…” You slumped into the cot that he called a bed with a huff, “I’m older than she is! I’ve been with him longer might I add. I’ve never questioned him, I’ve followed him loyally and this is what I am granted with? To be a baby sitter?”

“One useful skill may come out of that job.” He noted and you missed the blush in his face at whatever he was thinking about…

“And what might that be?” You muttered tiredly as you stared up at the ceiling contemplating your life and how you could just be better.

“You would make a good mother?” Qimir shrugged his shoulders as he tried to had the small smirk on his lips.

You launched one of the pillows on the bed the moment those words left his mouth. It was going straight for his head to which he surprisingly dodged with ease, but that didn’t stop the surprised look appear on his face as he raised his hands in surrender.

“Not funny.” You grumbled and crossed your arms, turning to face the wall with a pout.

“Okay okay. I’m sorry.” Qimir said as he walked over to where you were. When you didn’t turn to face him, he decided to take a seat on the edge of the bed beside you. There was a thoughtful look on his face before he spoke again, “Maybe… Maybe he is looking out for you.”

That got your attention. You sat up, your shoulders brushing against his as you peered up at him with confusion, “What do you mean?”

A nervous blush creeped up his face as you leaned closer to him, “Well I mean… I…” He trailed off nervously, “I just mean that maybe you just might be more important to him than you realize. He could be looking after you to take on a more important role.”

“What’s more important than being his acolyte?” You huffed in confusion as you look towards your fiddling hands, “I remember what he said to me all those years ago when we first met. He promised he would make me a powerful force weirder and that I would stand by his side as his acolyte and now… Now I’m starting to question if he really meant it.”

Qimir’s hand found yours and gave it a comforting squeeze, “He meant it and… You are powerful. Just as you are brave and unlawfully kind.” He assured and it was your turn to blush.

It seemed like he always knew what to say to you in ways that made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn, “Qi…” You breathed out as you glanced at his lips.

He was quick to copy your movements leaning in closer to you as he did so, “Maybe he sees too much good in you to turn you into something your not.” He whispered, his breath caressing your skin.

“You seem to know a lot about what he may think.” You whispered, suddenly lost in his darkening gaze, “Why is that?”

“What can I say? I’m good at reading people.” He smirked slightly as he looked down at your lips again, “I’m also extremely possessive over what I care about. Knowing him means knowing you.”

“Okay…” You hummed accepting his answer, “Alright then mister possessive, what am I thinking about right now?” You mused, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.

It was something the Qimir couldn’t get enough of. It was your playfulness towards him that was like a breath of fresh air against the darkness he was met with daily.

“I would say…” His speech was slow as he traced your face with his eyes, “That you really want to kiss me.” He teased lowly. There was a small grin on his face in knowing that he was right.

He was always right.

“Do I now?” You didn’t try to deny it as you leaned in closer to him, “And you? What do you want to do?”

A low noise emanated from his throat, almost like a pleading sound as his lips brushed against yours, “I want to kiss you...” He said in a way that made your heart yearn for him.

“Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me.” You breathed out, your heart racing wildly in excitement.

That was all he needed to hear as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the soft sensation in the way that he kissed you. It was delicate and gentle as if he was afraid to push you too far, but the way your arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to you, was all he needed to know.

He felt like light between your fingertips as you ran your hands through his hair and he was gentle with his movements in guiding you back against the bed. “Beautiful…” He breathed out, fitting himself snugly between your legs.

“Qi…” You breathed his name against his lips, arching your back as he tugged your bottom lips between his teeth. He held himself back, letting go of your lip to really look at you. You couldn’t help but look at him with awe as he gazed at you with so much love and devotion shining in his eyes.

“You are just… Breathtaking.” He admired you with every part of his being, “Utterly breathtaking…” He seemed mesmerized as his right hand traced along your curves.

You blushed, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked away from him embarrassed by his loving words, “Who knew you were such a flatterer.”

He chuckled lowly as he leaned back down to kiss your lips. All too quickly he left and began leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You couldn’t help your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

“You deserve to be flattered.” He continued losing himself in everything that was you. He rocked himself against you as he held back the urge to devour you entirely. He wanted too so desperately now that he knew you were his, body, soul, and mind. He would never let you go, not now… Not until his last dying breath. “You deserve the galaxy, my little flower.” He muttered softly against your skin.

You have much to learn little flower.

You moaned lightly at the pleasure he filled you with almost kissing his last words, but you heard them. Your mind took a moment to register the deeper meaning behind his endearment, but when you did your eyes opened in realization. It was him. Qimir was him. No one knew about that little nickname except for…

“Master?” You whispered running your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, but your heart beat widely in your chest as he stopped kissing you.

“Hm…” He hummed a small smirk gracing his lips as he breathed against your neck, “You finally figured it out.”

You placed your right hand on his cheek and gentle lifted his head to face you, “He’s you?” You said in awe as you pieced together every moment up until now, “You’re him?”

“I am.” He searched your eyes for any fear or resistance, but his shoulders relaxed as he saw none.

“So… That is why you were never around when he— I mean when you were training me? Because you were already there.” Your brows furrowed, “Does Mae know?” A small pang filled your chest at the possibility of her knowing your masters identity before you.

He shook his head, “No.”

The pang quickly left, filling your chest with relief as you let out a small sigh, “So… That’s how you were so sure about how he was feeling because that’s what you truly felt…” A blush filled your cheeks at the kind words he said to you earlier.

However, you realized something else as well. He was the one who kept you from becoming his acolyte. You gasped as you smacked his chest causing him to groan and you would have cared for the old Qimir if you didn’t already know how strong he truly was as your master.

“Why won’t you make me your acolyte?” You huffed slightly embarrassed now that you know you spilled your guts to him, “This entire time I have told you how I felt. I am devoted only to you master so why will you not let me become your acolyte?”

“I thought you would have figured that out by now.” He chuckled shaking his head.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? That is why you train me, it is why you let me stay with you, is it not?”

Strands of his hair fell into his eyes from the way he shook his head. You couldn’t help, but reach up to brush them away, something that had his heart flutter and his lips curl up into a soft smile. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed as he spoke softly, “I don’t want you to become my acolyte anymore because I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you.” His gaze darkened, “I would burn the galaxy before that ever happens.”

You smiled softly and brushed away the creases from his brow, “I know.”

“I want you to be mine.” He nuzzled his nose into your wrist before placing a gentle kiss upon in, “I want you to be my equal… Not as someone who does my bidding, not as my padawan or my acolyte, but someone who stands by me.”

“I want you my little flower because you are everything I wish the world to be.” He finished, a soft look in his eyes.

Love swelled up in your chest at the confession he conveyed so deeply to you. His love sealed your fate to him as you leaned up towards him. You brushed your lips against his, the both of you conveying your strong emotions to one another with the look of your eyes.

“You have my heart Qimir and I will stand by your side, always.” You agreed softly.

It was a promise that the two of you would keep without any doubt. He was yours and you were his until the end of time.