#the fact that THIS is the closest we got to animated ‘call me child one more god damn time’ is genuinely pissing me off

[pyrotechnicdarts]

[hauntedwitch04]

Just a Mirror

Sam Winchester x plus size!Reader

Words: about 6.3k words

Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy time, eating disorder, hating on your own person, please be careful if you sensible about this themes

REQUEST: Hi :) I saw that your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could do a Sam Winchester x plus sized reader; an angsty fluffy friends to lovers that has some smut and reader hating herself in the mirror and possibly problems with eating

Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you @desicroft02 so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea love and I hope you like how it came out, if you don't find yourself with what i wrote, feel free to say it to me and I'll write to you a new one !

p.s.I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. I was never the skinny girl, but with the years I've grown used to feel different to others girls, and even if sometimes I really hate what I see in the mirror, I kinda arrived to the point that I see both the flaws and the strenghts of my body and I love both, but some of my closest friend and this kinda of disorder and I tried to help them the way aI could so this one is for them too.

In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.

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Why?

This is the only question that floats in your mind, while, with thick tears in your eyes, you try to read the enormous book about whatever monster you are hunting with your friends in this little city, forgotten by God.

You and your childhood best friends are hunting some monster that you still haven't been able to figure out what it is, despite the fact that you are reading yet another list of monstrous animals in the story, while Dean and Sam are still out at the bar where you had decided to spend the evening, and from which you had decided to escape as quickly as possible, without giving any kind of explanation to the two hunters, holding back tears and trying not to meet their confused gaze

You and the boys have been friends since you were six and they were seven and eleven. You met on a rainy October day when you were still living at Bobby's house, after your father had died in a hunting accident after leaving you with him, and being his friend and seeing him almost as a brother he couldn't help but welcome you and raise you as if you were his own daughter.

Dean and Sam had just been left in the rain on the narrow dirt road by their father when you looked out and saw these two cold, sad, and at the same time angry children. You could see the resentment they felt for the man who looked less and less like a father and more and more like an army general, ready to train soldiers and not raise children. Immediately you went to Bobby and told him of the presence of those two unknown children who were in your driveway. He had immediately run to get them and brought them inside the house, worried that they would get sick from standing in the rain, and wondering why their father had left them there, without saying anything.

"He said he didn't have time to explain and that he had to get there as fast as he could, but that he would call you this evening." Said the older of the two once they were seated on the couch in what must once have been a beautiful dining room, and was now more like an ever-growing mountain of books. It is to your adoptive father that you owe all the culture and ability to read texts on the supernatural that most hunters would not even know how to open.

As he spoke you could see the blond child trying to hold back the sadness within himself and show himself as a big boy, almost pretending to understand why his father abandoned them like that without saying a word; in contrast, the one who was supposed to be the smaller of the two, with unruly brown hair, looked more like a beaten puppy, as he wetly moved his feet lazily on the floor, listening to what his brother had to say, but not hiding his sadness and anger at his daddy's decision.

"Baby, couldn't you get Sammy a glass of water for him while Dean and I go make a call for a minute?" Bobby then asked you suddenly, and you realized that you were lost in thought as you watched and studied those boys. You nodded quickly, trying not to let it show that you had spent all that time staring at them, as you heard Bobby's voice and that of the blond boy, apparently named Dean, drift away, only to hear the front door open and close.

After a few minutes you returned to the living room with a glass in your hand, and walked over to the brown-eyed boy, who was now looking at you and smiling shyly. You handed him the glass with a beaming smile, and he could do nothing but blush a little and retract his body a little, letting shyness take possession of him as he took the glass.

"Thank you." He told you in a faint voice.

"You're welcome." You replied as you sat next to him on the sofa.

"My name is Sam." He said, only to freeze and blush again as he held out a hand for you to shake, just as grown-ups do. You told him your name, and he commented that it was a very nice name, and that he liked it a lot, before going back to being silent and staring into the sad void.

You not being able to see what you considered a new friend feel so bad, you shamelessly asked him why his father had left him there and if that was why he was sad. He turned to look at you, and unknown how, he burst into tears, while with his hands he covered his face, not wanting to be seen as weak with someone he had just met, but you didn't give a damn.

Immediately you hugged him and listened to him talk about how his father was behaving with them, how his brother was struggling more and more to hide that he was tired of his parent's behavior, and how he was lonely and sad, constantly changing towns and seeing nothing but his family. That poor seven-year-old seemed to be thirty years old because of the problems he was telling you about, and as much as you were even younger because you were only six, you felt like you could understand him, because for a while that had also been your life before your father passed away.

You remained thus cuddled on the couch and fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire slightly away from you and the new friendly presence that had entered your lives that afternoon, so much so that when Bobby and Dean returned after trying for a varied amount of time to contact John, and finally once succeeding in being insulted and put down by him, they both smiled at the sight of those two small and defenseless children embracing each other, as if to protect each other from the world. But no one knew that night before you fell asleep you had promised to protect each other forever, no matter how, when or why you would always be there for each other.

That was how you got to know the Winchester brothers, and the hatred for their father also began.

You awaken from your thoughts when you hear the motel door open and close, realizing that another time had gone into the whirlwind of memories and you were lost in remembering again when life was easy. You hear someone coming toward you with heavy footsteps, so you wipe away the tears you didn't know were there on your cheeks, which like small streams had almost made a furrow along your skin by now.

You sense right away who it is, but you don't have the strength to turn around so you continue to cry silently as you feel two arms wrapped around you, and Dean's warm body resting on your back as he leans down so that he can put his head in the crook of your neck and hold you better. Ever since the two of you met it was immediately like big brother and little sister between the two of you, and even now despite the fact that it has been a long time since you were children and in your spare time you enjoyed stealing cherries from the neighbor's tree, there is still that complicity and understanding between the two of you that once existed.

He knows exactly why you escaped so suddenly from the dive bar you were both in a few hours ago. Sam had seen a beautiful girl, the classic cover model of some magazine, slim and with all her shape in the right place, taking a drink at the bar, looking seductively at him as she put the drink straw between her lips. Sam's hormones had not let him repeat twice that clear call to fuck directly in the bar's bathroom, a bathroom from which you were coming out as he was sticking his tongue down the throat of that fake and at the same time perfect babe, who in his arms looked so small and yet in the right place, toned against his strong muscles, as opposed to how you would have looked with your shapely body. You couldn't stand there and watch the boy you love for so long now make out with someone else, so without explanation you left and went back to the motel where you took two bedrooms for the case. Usually you take two rooms only when Dean wanted to find someone to take to bed, unlike Sam who kept his sex life much more private than his brother, but since he and Cas had come out a few months ago you had not taken the second room, having practically grown up together and thus having no problem sharing space. That night, however, when you had arrived in the small town Sam had insisted on taking a second room, and stubbornly had not told his older brother why when he had asked him, and somehow your heart was preparing for what would happen, but in fact nothing would totally prepare you for what you would see in that bar and how your heart would break.

Dean squeezes you tightly, as if he is afraid you will disappear at any moment, and that heartfelt squeeze only makes you break the weak dam you had built when you saw him come in, and you burst into endless weeping.

"I know baby, I know." That's all the blond man can manage to say to you, as he gets you up and carries you toward the bed, so you can lie down and take off your shoes, before coming close to you and holding you in his arms, until exhausted, you fall asleep safe in Dean's strong hold, while he whispers soothing words to you.

The next morning you wake up with the sun gently caressing your face from over Dean's shoulder. You smile for a second, imagining what it would be like to wake up in the other Winchester's arms, and soon after your heart, as if pierced by an arrow, bleeds at the memory of what happened last night. You get up, shifting your friend's arms, and go to the bathroom to wash and freshen up, when you hear the door to your room open, and a male voice, known even too well, shout to your still sleeping friend.

"Dean, wake up!" Sam yells, and you behind the door hold a hand over your heart, just imagining her beauty after her usual morning run to stay in shape. Her long dark hair tied back in a light bun, her forehead sweaty and muscles still tense from exertion.

"I'm awake, you asshole." Dean replies, as you hear him get up and go get some coffee. "You could have deigned to make less noise last damn night, you know there were people here who wanted to sleep."

You hear Sam snort at his brother's words, then respond to him in an aggressive, cold tone.

"Well then there are people who wouldn't want to see you run off to fuck wherever we go, hold hands all the time or make love wherever you are. And you know something else too Dean, I thought you were a better person. Why her? Come on you've had a lot of girls, and it wouldn't cost you anything to find a thousand more, why did you have to choose her!?" Says the younger brother, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as you feel yourself lacking oxygen. You feel tears coming to your eyes, but you try with all your strength to push them back down. You take a few minutes to control your emotions as all you want to do is fall to the floor on your knees and scream until you can't hear yourself anymore, but you stay strong and open the door to see Dean immediately in front of you, looking pained and guilty, seeing your state.

"You didn't tell him." You say in a calm, quiet voice, not asking, but stating that your best friend had not told about his new relationship with our angel friend.

"I never found the right time." Dean tries to say, then looks down. "I never had the courage, every time I seemed to miss the words."

"Sam would never judge you, and you know that." You say as you feel a pang inside your heart, remembering the words the man you love had used a few minutes earlier. You feel your clothes sticking to your body like glue, too tight, so tight that you feel as if they have pre torn. You feel how the floor gives way under your feet, you feel how a billion eyes are on you ready to judge you, you feel something inside you break, but you can't let anyone but yourself see how mere words have hurt you, so you grit your teeth and continue to look at Dean stoically, as you feel a single and only tear escape down your face.

"I know, but I'm afraid in the same way, I don't want it to end like last time." Dean confesses, still looking at the floor, but crying clearly, as his words take you back to when you were nothing more than kids and he had come crying to you one night, confessing that he had fallen in love with a boy he had met during his last case, and that his father after finding out had beaten him so badly that his scars remained, and had forced him to watch pornographic movies, reminding him how "a real man acts." No one had ever seen you as angry as Dean, and Bobby when he heard you scream and came to watch that night as you swore to heaven that you would kill John Winchester. Dean had never told Sam about that episode, not wanting to worry him since he had just run away to study at Stanford, and asked you to do the same. It has been so long since that night, yet the memory of that pain and that man still frightens the wonderful person in front of you.

"But I swear I will. He has no right to think such things about you! I-I will tell him-" He begins to say, as he tries to wipe away the tears running copiously down his face. You, moved in turn and knowing that like you he too was remembering that fateful evening, take his face in your hands and bring his eyes to gaze fixedly into yours.

"No, you won't do it now, you will do it when you feel like it." You comment chuckling as you caress his face. He looks at you unconvinced and you see his inner battle inside whether to accept your proposal or to be as always too good and allow the world to kick him in the balls.

"Please be selfish for once. And if I serve as your cover, so be it, not that I would have had any chance with him anyway." You continue, smiling at him as you feel your heart slowly shatter. You see Dean ready to retort, but you have already disappeared back into the bathroom, crying silently. Once the bathroom door is closed, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and realize how disgusted you feel about your body.

There is not a single thing about you that you like: your thighs, your arms, your stomach, your chest.

The more you look at yourself, the more you want to break that all-too-truthful mirror, which tells an unfiltered reality, a sad truth that for so long you had tried to ignore, but which now that Sam had spit it in your face you could no longer pretend not to see. So you decide at this very moment that everything was going to change, you don't know how, but it was going to happen.

So weeks go by, Sam still won't talk to you, and slowly you continue to sink into the stupid realization that he doesn't because only he, like you, can really see your body, and that he hates you for it, so now convinced that you have to change your body to be loved, you begin to eat less and less and more rarely, and what little you put in your mouth to make Dean happy, who sees you getting sadder and more tired, is rejected from your stomach just moments later when no one is looking at you. This situation hurts your body and your heart, but you do it so that you can look at yourself in the mirror without wanting to punch him, but things seem to get worse and worse. You look at yourself and you never fit, before you saw a body you didn't like, now beyond that you see a person you don't like.

Dean is getting more and more worried about you, seeing you getting paler and paler and thinner, but every time he tries to talk to you, you put on a smile and pretend that everything is going well and that the only reason your shirts now look huge on you is that you are working out more, but he knows that you never liked sports and that is why he knows you are lying to him. He tried to talk to Sam about what was going on, but all his brother managed to say by pouting was that if he needed relationship advice to go somewhere else and that he didn't want anything to do with the two of you.

Dean was on the verge of smashing the plate he was holding in his face and yelling at him to open his eyes and see that you love him more than Dean does right now and that he is fucking in love with their favorite angel, but then he had seen Castiel's face and knew he couldn't let him down after he asked him to keep a low profile and let as few people as possible know about their relationship.

Dean had never felt so lousy as deciding between the love of his life and a friend in need, but he knew that if you found out what he had done you would insult him, so he played it cool and moved on, as if nothing had happened, while he continued to try to take care of you, with little success.

It's been almost a month since Sam had said those horrible things, and you're not getting worse and worse, but in order not to show it in front of your friends, you keep doing the same things as before, trying to have the same cheerfulness.

You are now hunting a werewolf in a remote town in a state you don't even remember. Your body is weak, you haven't eaten anything Dean has brought you in the last three days taken at the various fast food restaurants and bars he had found along the way, and what little you had put in your mouth had gone down the drain shortly thereafter, hating yourself just for having the idea that you could eat something. You feel your eyelids as heavy as shutters, the muscles in your body are nonexistent, and what few are left ache from the mere effort of standing and walking, while your head throbs incessantly.

In this you are scouting around where the last victims had been killed, to see if you can find any more information, but so far you have not had much success, so you decided to split up.

You are barely holding the flashlight in your hand, too heavy for you, when you feel a sudden dizziness that forces you to lean against the wall. You stay a few minutes trying to catch your breath, eyes closed, breathing in the cool night air around you, when you hear a noise coming from a short distance away from you, like a dog growling. With difficulty you open your eyes and see before you a sight that is frightening to say the least: the werewolf you were looking for is looking at you ravenously, while a dark laughter rumbles from his belly to his mouth. Quickly you try to pick up the phone to call Dean or Sam, but unfortunately your mind is so clouded that you can't even do simple things like this and the phone slips out of your hands to the monster's feet.

"The Winchesters' little friend!" He says, seeing who you were trying to contact. "I've heard a lot about you, among the monsters you are known as their true weakness: so small and helpless, you wouldn't even survive my bite, I'll do you a favor and eat your miserable heart." He continues as he gets closer, and you do whatever comes to your chin at this moment, as you feel death coming slowly but comfortingly too, like an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. You scream Sam and Dean's name as loud as you can, hoping that at least one of them can hear you, your lungs aching from how much breath you had to use and your throat burning from the effort as you feel your strength failing.

You lean back against the wall again, this time with your back, and let yourself slide down to the floor, as your vision goes completely black and your ears become plugged as when you go too deep underwater, and the world seems more and more distant. You have one last flicker of life before you pass out completely in that dark alley, at the mercy of that monster, and you hear Sam's voice call out your name for a moment.

Your heart loses a beat, and then completely dark.

You awaken with a jump and a gasp as you sit up on the bed on which someone has carried you. Your head immediately begins to spin like a spinning top, and your vision fails again as you feel a warm hand settle on your shoulder and bring you back to lie down.

"Relax, you're safe now. It's okay." Says in a low, soft tone a rough voice, leading back to Sam. You, shocked to know he is there next to you, open your eyes with difficulty and find yourself lying on the bed in your room, in the bunker, as you see him kneeling beside your bed. His face shows the weariness he feels, but in his eyes shines a strange hope as he looks at you mixed with sadness. You place your gaze on the rest of the room and see your favorite chair, where you usually sit to read your books or do your research when you are tired of sitting in the library, covered with blankets and pillows, making you realize that your favorite giant has been sleeping there for what seems to be even more than a couple of days, otherwise everything looks the same, unchanged, and strangely everything now seems to make more sense with the presence of Sam and some of his things in the room. Immediately you slap yourself in the face at that thought, reminding yourself that he hates you, and that the reason he is here is because Dean will have had better things to do than watch you sleep.

You're about to tell him that he can leave, and leave you alone, knowing that he doesn't even want to be in the same room with you, as he has shown recently, and that in case his brother asks you, you won't tell him, but he beats you to the punch and starts talking.

"First of all I want to say I'm sorry, you don't even know how much, and I certainly understand if you never forgave me in your life, because I wouldn't forgive myself." Sam says, as you see tears forming in his eyes. You try to stop him, confused as to why he was making that speech, but he stops you in turn and begs you to let him finish.

"We found you just in time, by "luck," if you can call it that, that asshole had decided to torture you a bit before eating your heart, and we got there before he could do it, but when Cas touched you to treat you he said he didn't know if you would survive anyway because your body was too weak since you hadn't eaten for too many days. Dean insulted me and even beat me up a bit before explaining the matter from his point of view." You can't help but widen your eyes, and Sam chuckles seeing your expression, as two tears run down his face, and he darkens a little again before continuing, without looking you in the eye.

"Yes, he also told me about Cas, and also about that affair with our father to make me understand why you decided to cover for him."

You close your eyes for a moment, expecting a series of insults, but you only feel his lips rest on your hand, so you open them again and see him leaning over the bed, as you feel his tears coming hot to contact your cold hand.

"Thank you." The boy confesses in a whisper. "Thank you for everything you did for Dean, thank you for always taking care of him when I couldn't or was too blind and stupid to, I don't deserve to have you in my life."

You can't find the words, and so you do the only thing you can think of this moment, and you take his hand and squeeze it, while barely smiling at him.

"We will always have helped each other, you remember. Then Dean will be your brother, but it's like he's my brother too." You say as you pull his face up and force him to look into your eyes. You see him cry even harder, a few sobs escaping his lips, as he squeezes your hand even tighter.

"I'm sorry, I promised I would always protect you, and instead I was so stupid and jealous that I didn't realize what I was doing." He tells you again, only to stop for a moment and look at you this time with a resolve he lacked until a few seconds ago. "Why did you stop eating? How come you covered your mirror in the bathroom? Dean found the remains of the one from before in the garage, thought you didn't like it and got a new one, so he changed it for you."

Immediately you remember, one night in a rage after looking at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, you had started punching it until it had become nothing but stardust under your bleeding fingers, and the next day when you had returned from your walk with the dog, you had found a new one, with a note from Dean who had said that seeing that you had taken it off, thinking that you didn't like it anymore, he had bought a new one, so realizing that you couldn't escape that vicious cycle and knowing that if it happened one more time it would arouse even more suspicion, you had simply covered it up, and hoped that no one would ever learn of that dirty secret, and instead, here it all was for all to see.

You look at Sam in those damned puppy-dog eyes of his, and burst into desperate weeping. He, seeing you in this state, instinctively picks you up and holds you in his arms.

"I disgust myself Sam." You finally manage to utter those damn words, and immediately you feel as if your soul lightens as you feel his arms grip your body even tighter as if you could disappear at any moment, and at the same time he does it with an innate delicacy, as if it were a precious crystal figurine that can be broken under his gaze. "I'm disgusted by my body, I'm disgusted by every single thing about me, and you're disgusted by it too, don't lie to me. I thought if I lost weight things would get better, but they don't, I feel worse and worse." You continue, while somehow trying to get away from him.

"In what sense would you disgust me? When would I have ever said such a thing?" He asks confusedly as he looks at you, tears have dried on his face. His eyes range and seem to want to imprint your every little detail in his memory. His gaze makes you blush as you try to find the words to tell him how his words have done nothing but unleash a storm that had long been locked up somewhere inside you and was just waiting to be released. So you take a deep breath and tell him everything, while he looks at you attentively and astonished, his arms still around his body, as if he needs reminding that you are there beside him, and that you are not just a product of his mind.

You tell him everything, every little thing you had felt hearing his words while you were locked in that damn bathroom, your feelings and emotions in the month to follow, along with all the thoughts and all the actions you had put in place in the hope that he would no longer hate you, and that maybe you would hate yourself less, too. He starts crying again, and hides his face in the crook of your neck.

You stay a few minutes clasped to each other, in silence, after you have poured your heart out in front of him, ready to suffer the consequences, when he takes your face in his hands and stares at you steadily with those chocolate-colored eyes of his, and for a moment you feel your breath short.

"Don't ever think of such a thing again. Never. You are perfect exactly as you are, there is nothing I would change about you, there is nothing I don't love about you." At his words you stand still, as if petrified, afraid that a single movement of yours could mean the breaking of this beautiful illusion. "Yes, I am tired of holding all this in, I love you, I love you so much that I am sick just thinking about not having you near me for a second, I love you so much that I would have been ready to kill my brother for stealing the girl I love all my life, I love you so much that I would be ready to climb the highest mountain in the world and scream it to everyone!" He continues as he stands up on the bed, and begins to move his arms quickly, just enough to make you laugh. At the sound of your laughter he turns to look at you, and smiles even more, to return next to you on his knees and cup your face in his hands. "I love every little, tiny thing about you madly. I'm crazy, crazy in love, and I was a fool because I was so convinced that getting away from you would be better for you, that I didn't realize that you were suffering because of me, and I'm sorry. On the one hand I would like to let you go and make you happy, but on the other hand I am an extremely selfish being and I only want you for myself." He continues as he rests his forehead on yours, whispering the last words. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

You look at him, and not even realizing what you are doing, you take his face in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The kiss you exchange arises as sweet and gentle, like two flames dancing in an elegant dance side by side, testing each other's reaction, in the same way your lips move over each other, slowly tasting that new sensation. You feel her soft lips caressing yours, until neither of you has a single breath left.

"I love you too if you hadn't realized it idiot." You comment making him laugh. "I love you, and for so long I would have preferred not to because it made me sick, yet I could do nothing but love you. The only reason that kept me alive was my love for you, even though it was also my poison." You continue by looking into his eyes, and you see the pain in his.

"If you forgive me, I will do everything to correct what I have done." He looks at you, with a penitent and pleading gaze, as he takes your hands in his, before you release one and place it on his right cheek, and he instinctively leans into your hands, seeking that simple contact.

"I've already forgiven you moron." She laughingly comments, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, but this time the air in the room is different. The atmosphere becomes more erotic and intriguing. You feel his hands carefully explore your body, running his hands down your sides from your breasts to your butt, where he rests his large, warm hands, before slipping them under your T-shirt and caressing the skin of your back, making you shiver. You feel his hand rise higher and higher to the level of your bra and undo the hook that held it, but then he stops. Parting your lips he looks into your eyes for a second.

"If you don't feel up to it it's perfectly fine honey, we can stop here-"Sam says unsure, but you stop him.

"Afraid it's too much for you Winchester?" You ask as you raise your eyebrows, and see him smile, before resting his lips on yours, then creating a trail of kisses from your mouth to the chest exposed by the shirt you are wearing, down your neck.

"God, how I've missed you." He comments between kisses, but then stops again and looks at you seriously. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding myself, if you don't feel comfortable we can stop here."

You look at him, in his eyes only the pure affection and love you feel for him, and then put an end to all his doubts.

"I want to do it Sam." You say in a whisper as you take the bottom of his shirt with your hands and slowly slip it off, thus also dropping the bra he had unfastened a few minutes ago. "I want to do it with you Sam."

He looks at you and doesn't let you tell him twice, and he resumes his attack on your neck, leaving obvious signs of his passage, and then moves on to your breasts.

"God, you're perfect." He whispers before teasing one of your nipples. You moan softly at that sensation, feeling his teeth clench, his lips kiss and his tongue lick every single inch of your body, worshipping you like a goddess, a queen, tasting every inch of your skin.

This wonderful moment is interrupted, however, by the unannounced entrance of Dean, who, seeing the scene of his brother splayed across your body as he kisses your breasts, and with one hand explores the rest of your body, while you clutch his long hair in your hands, moaning his name shamelessly, lets out a small scream, before closing the door again.

"Damn you guys could warn." Comments the older brother, as Sam with speed grabs a blanket to cover you.

"Should we announce? You're the one who entered the room unannounced!" Sam replies in turn, making an expression that makes you laugh. "You can still come in now jerk."

"Bitch." Dean retorts, to open the bedroom door again and have a stupid grin plastered on his face. "So, I see Sam hasn't exactly figured out how to talk and resolve a situation, usually the mouth should be free to talk, not busy sucking-"

"You try to say one more Winchester word and I'll tell everyone about Christmas with Cindy McWood." You threaten him, and see him whiten, before his smile returns to its former self.

"Well what can I say in that case guys, good conversation and be sure to use protection, I'm not ready to be an uncle." He says closing the door behind him, then opening it again. "Not that I wouldn't make a great uncle, but I would say I'm too young and then-"

"Out!" You and Sam scream in unison, and the only thing Dean does is give you the finger before walking away. The two of you stand still for a moment weighing what just happened and burst out laughing, before Sam's lips find yours again.

"Where were we?" He asks you next, and you can't help but smile and moan at feeling his lips on you again.

It's shaping up to be a very interesting night, long but interesting, and you know that in the end maybe by tomorrow morning you can slowly look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of the man you love behind you supporting you.

TAGLIST

@supernatural-lvr @itzdarling @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @evansstan-akya

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 16/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

                He walks out the front to find Vi sitting at one of the tables groaning, her head rested on a pile of books and her laptop set to the side.

                “What are you doing?”

                “Studying. Go to University they said. It’ll be fun they said. It was all bullshit and lies.”

                “You could always run away to another country.”

                “Oh, I am not fool enough to think my life is as blessed as yours is. If I ran away to America I’d probably end up dead.”

                “You don’t want to travel?”

                “I didn’t say that.”

                “But…?”

                “Can you imagine my parents agreeing to let me go?”

                “What if I went with you?”

                “Where?”

                “Anywhere…Everywhere.”

                “Are you serious?”

                “You’re like my sister –”

                “Cousin.”

                “I might actually have cousins somewhere. Anyway, we could always go together. If you wanted.”

…            …            …

                Sandy, Olivia, Maria, Nicola and Mandy are all sitting at the large twelve-seater dining table when he finally steps into the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, silently pours himself coffee from the pot and takes a sip while he just looks at them. They all look back. They’ve clearly been talking about him, or Leo, or more likely his relationship with Leo. Not that he’s told Maria anything, and for her to be the sister that knows the most is unusual. He doesn’t know whether she would have talked or not.

                Sandra is the oldest, nine years Jake’s senior and got to get the whole college experience before their lives came crashing down around their ears. She’d married her boyfriend from college, a man named Daniel who had uprooted his life in Montana to live in Texas. If that didn’t show love and devotion Jake doesn’t know what does. They have three kids, two girls and a boy, ten, eight and six years old. They call him Uncle Jake and think he’s cool. He doesn’t need the ego boost, but he’ll take it regardless.

                Olivia is six years older than Jake, and of all his sisters he’d have to say she’s the one he has the least in common with. He doesn’t know what happened while she was at college, but he just knows she’d come back angry and upset, raging at the world with no time to consider comforting anyone, or being comforted herself. Now though, she seems happy, her own little house built on the farm a ten-minute walk away from Maria in the main house. She cooks and creates things, rescues animals like it’s her job.

                For a reason he’s not one-hundred percent sure of, Maria lives in their family home where they all grew up and where he’s standing right now; looking at the large table where they all congregate around for every special occasion whether he’s there or not. He has always assumed that Sandra didn’t want to live here and raise her own family. Maria is only three-and-a-half years older than Jake, was still in high school and living at home and he’s always considered her the bridge between them all, a middle child acting as glue. Maybe that’s why she stays in the house, reels them all back in every chance she gets.

                Nicola and Amanda are twins, the ones he’s closest to in age, only two years older than him, but he’s definitely closest to Nicola. Nicola came out as a lesbian before Jake even realized that he was maybe not straight and their parents’ easy loving acceptance and support had made it so much easier for him when he figured himself out. The fact that he’s away much of the time means he makes the perfect roommate, only around for a few weeks, always with an end date in sight so she never seems to get sick of him. Amanda, he thinks, is maybe the bravest out of them all, her decision to go after parenthood and take it on single-handed, refusing to wait for some person to come along to make it happen for her. She currently breastfeeding her son and only half of her attention is really on Jake.

                “You going to say anything?” Olivia asks.

                “What’s there to say?” Jake asks, shrugs and takes another sip of coffee. There are collective eye rolls and scoffs around the table and he pulls a face. “What?” he asks again.

                “Maria told us you have a boyfriend.”

                “Did she now…” Jake says dryly, shooting Maria a look and she gives it right back.

                “Did you take the idiot route?” Maris asks, one eyebrow shooting up like she’s daring him to prove her right or wrong either way.

                “No. I didn’t. However if you think me bringing him here for dinner tomorrow isn’t an idiot move on my part then you all need you head’s examined.”

                “If he can’t put up with a little ribbing from us he’s not worth your time,” Nicola states, and she leans back from the table and folds her arms, looks like she’s ready to throw hands.

                “After seven days? You think introducing a guy to all of you, what,” he looks to Maria. “Forty-eight hours after we actually decide to try having a long-distance relationship when he leaves, that meeting my entire family isn’t a complete overkill?”

                “But Maria got to meet him!”

                “That’s because I knew she’d be able to help him better than I could. And I wasn’t… we were just hooking up.”

                The looks his sisters all now exchange have him throwing his hands up in the air in annoyance, no idea what they’re communicating silently. He skulls back the last of the coffee in his mug, regrets it almost instantly given how hot it still is, but it looks like Amanda is finished breastfeeding Lincoln and he grabs the burping cloth and makes grabby hands for his three-month old nephew. While he’s around he gets first dibs on everything and he’s totally going to use Lincoln to hopefully redirect the conversation.

                “You sleep well for your mom last night?” Jake asks, and Amanda snorts.

                “Stop trying to deflect Jake.”

                Damn. He’s out or practice. Not even one question before he’s getting called out; although trying with someone unable to answer back was probably a mistake. Ah well, it was worth a shot.

                “This is the first guy you’ve ever brought home. It’s a big deal.”

                “Okay. First off. There was no conscious decision to bring a guy home. He just… I literally bumped into him at the market on Saturday.  Until yesterday afternoon we were just fucking –”

                “Jake!” “Language!” “Can you not?” Their voices all overlap and he’s reminded that while he spends most of his time with guys who are trying to get their photo in the dictionary beside curse like a sailor, his sisters have never liked curse words, although when he’s with them one on one they usually let it slide.

                “Making sweet sweet love,” Jake says, giving them all an annoyed look while jiggling Lincoln and patting his back. “Look, I wouldn’t be bringing any guy home after a couple of dates.”

                “Except it’s not just a couple of dates. This is your guy from Italy…” Nicola states.

                “Nicky…” Jake starts, because only she knows quite the extent of his maybe little thing for Leo which he’d built up in his mind. The fact that he’s pretty much had all of that in more the last few days cementing some of his wildest fantasies isn’t something he wants to examine too closely yet.

                “What guy from Italy?”

                “I thought you said it was Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “Yeah. It is. And apparently they met years ago in Italy and Jake calls him Leo,” Maria provides, like she’s repeating something and Jake frowns.

                “It’s what his Italian family call him…” he says defensively, not adding that it’s also what he’s called him in his head for around eight years.

                “It’s how he introduced himself to you,” Nicola provides and Jake shoots her a glare over the top of Lincoln’s head.

                “Italy… didn’t you stop there as part of your first deployment?”

                “Yeah, it was, he sent us a postcard.”

                “Wait. Was he your first?”

                Jake feels hunted, as he often does when they’re all pursuing the same thing or all trying to get him to do something, or find something out.

                “You’re all a bunch of gossips!”

                “Like this is news…”

                “Also that wasn’t an answer. You know…” Amanda says, turning toward Nicola instead of Jake and he groans. Nicola cannot keep anything from Amanda once she knows there is something to know.

                “He wasn’t my first…” Jake mutters, hoping to maybe head them off, but Amanda is studying Nicola with narrowed eyes, Nicola is looking between her twin and back to Jake helplessly and he shakes his head and Amanda’s eyes go gleeful.

                “Ooohhh… there is definitely something. He was –”

                “He’s the first guy Jake ever kissed.”

                “Maria!”

                “What? You told me when you came home very briefly in between rounds of sweet sweet love. Remember? I didn’t realize it was a state secret. We all know who each other’s first kiss are…”

                “Well, we do now.”

                “My first kiss was actually Suzanne McKenzie,” Jake says smugly.

                “You were four. That doesn’t count.”

                “Oh… he was the first man you kissed. And DADT was still in effect.”

                “Yeah,” Jake says on a sharp exhale, and he swallows, looks down at Lincoln to avoid looking at any of them. It was one thing to have their support when he decided to apply to USNA, but they had each taken him aside and told him that DADT was going to make it difficult. They hadn’t been wrong, but other than Nicola he’d felt at the time it was all I support you but…. Nicola had said, fuck them, you go in there and show them what you’re made of.

                So he had.

SEVENTEEN

[natturuval]

We need to have an honest conversation about automated censorship.

My son, who's ten, has wanted to share facts about the animal kingdom and made videos we shared on tiktok. Two of them have been censored and their appeal has been denied.

I'll share the videos.

First is a video about peacock feathers.

-This ban is fine right? We should have community guidelines that forbid the use of cock right? There is no way kids would need a way to access information about their body in a safe way, they should learn all that in school or ask a professional, they can all do that right? And besides birdnames are really pornographic in nature, that's hilarious, why would they name something big breasted tits and cock something? They obviously were horny and we can't have kids learn about things in nature that were discovered by horny people, right? /s

The second is a video about how female ostriches steal eggs from other nests.

-Robbery is a felony and kids should obviously be shielded from crime, punishable offenses is not something kids should see on the internet and it really is a good thing to censor something like that right? The language around crime should apply to humans and not nature, the ostrich isn't a thief and hasn't committed a crime. Why don't they call it something else, like some abstract detached science name so it's not confusing for kids? Besides there is no need for kids to know about crime, otherwise they'll just start committing them! Right? /s

The third video that was censored was a video we made from a tiktok template, you fill in the clips you want and the template adds the sound made from Dr. Dre's song, Still D.R.E. So thinking this would be acceptable we added the usual text and hashtags we've been using.

The fourth one was because using an animated sticker of a fox reading a book to cover my game of thrones t-shirt that read 'All men must die' which I thought was poor taste of me to show, I thought I would be facing the child more and the text wouldn't be as visible. Hence I self censored and with good reason, to hide something in poor taste that wasn't fitting for kids. However the fox in question (not available in the stickers catalog it seems so I replaced it for the next closest sticker) was over my chest. So the the red orange moving ears must have been automatically flag as nudity. So I tried changing my type of censorship and made it into white text on black background with the words 'reading is the best'. Same hashtags, hundreds of views immediately.

Reposting these banned videos on Instagram and no obvious censorship, our followers at least got to see it.

*we wrote peacock, the caption was altered without our consent

[giuliano-fan-account]

Hxh ch 396-397 review

WHY DID EVERYBODY FLOCK TO MY CHAPTER 395 REVIEW FOUNDING PART ONE OK??????

Anyways yeah I didnt do reviews for the past couple of weeks because Things happened and I got busy and it got me out of my groove so.

I have been reading of course because who am I .

I’ll do an overview of the rest of the flashbacks because those Messed Me Up actually and I have art and things to say about it.

Spoilers, obviously . (Warning for Child Abduction and death)

Chapter 396: Founding part 2

Sadly I dont have viz screenshots because of it only being the recent 3 lol so I’ll be using an unofficial translation

There he is again with some weird Popcorn Cauliflower lookin things and ooh nooo

Hi Uvogin!

Also hi Phinks with the walnut hair. At this point I’ve adjusted to how wonky it looks though but

SARASA *50 crying emojis*

I actually love Sarasa a lot. She’s adorable and confident and fearless... I really hope nothing BAD HAPPENS TO THIS CHARACTER. auughgggggg

I also really like Sheila. Even though they didn’t end up being actual phantom troupe members Sarasa and Sheila matter to me and I really want to know what Togashi has in mind by bringing her back into the plot. But aside from that we also get another moment of exposition for Pakunoda and Chrollos relationship. Im Not Crying Youare.

I love to think that while a lot of other people call him ‘Little bro’, Pakunoda is the closest to being his actual “big sister”  

Power cleaners moment. I actually slipped up and call them Power Rangers sometimes or like for example “Ranger red” instead of Clean up red. Whats funny is that I didn’t even watch power rangers as a kid this is just how it is

Look at all those sillies

I really really want to know what this sounded like because Im not gonna say that it’s really bad just because they’re kids, but I think it would be very funny if they were sugar coating it not even on purpose because of how young and silly they are.

Chrollo is actually 11 you learn in 397 so I’m guessing that would mean Paku is 10, Sarasa is like 8-9 or something since she’s the youngest, and Sheila is somewhere inbetween them all.

I love how out of context he sounds like a victorian child whos about to make an important announcement.

“Father, may I have the mic?” I never thought I would hear those words but knowing that it comes from baby Chrollo makes it all make sense.

Also look theres Nobunaga!! Wow!! He’s finally in his own flashback!

I like the composition of this panel because This chapter is supposed to be a highlight on Uvos progression and his relationship with Chrollo and the fact that Chrollo is straight ahead of him really drives that home.

IM CRYING THIS PANEL

To be honest you gotta love this because you really just see how sincere he is in just wanting to make all the other kids happy here, and they are ecstatic

With Chrollo doing all the same lines though just imagine theres this kid and he just has crazy vocal range for no reason and hes talking to himself in 7 different voices

omfg is he Jerma985. .

.....

..i mean  i did make this one thing

Anyways

HOLY CRAP JEDSURS

I bet he put his entire freakin heart into that line like no holding back

I love how everybodys like stunned and then theres just Nobu who is there

HELLO??????????? JFC

ALSO IS THIS A SAIKI K REFERENCE BECAUSE I WOULD NOT BE SURPRISED IF TOGASHI JUST SLIPPED THAT IN THERE... (In some volume extras I think of vol 35 he put references in random panels and replaced the text and there was a saiki k reference in one. Fun fact)

Scrungly Sarasa and Sheila only ever

I also really like the composition of these panels.. Its also very centric on Uvo and Chrollo which I appreciate. Also I can see it being animated a lot for no reason like its so easy to imagine with this format.

When the Sarasa are Scurngly and adorble

Im just gonna put this whole page here and then talk abt it I love it so so so so so omuch and tears are definitely not in my eyes right now because of it.

So first of all, I read this translation first, and I think the lines they put here are better than what they put in the VIZ one. I don’t remember what they were, but the top panels lines here are just so raw and “That was me dubbing you!” Flows well. Sometimes unofficial translations can be wonky, but they did great on this page.

I love Love Love the way this page was drawn too. The way that Uvo and Chrollo just look shocked and are shown side by side is great, and I love the focus and detail on Sarasa and also even though it’s a still picture, her hair has so much motion and i i i i

Everybody’s reactions are nice too. I’m just thinking. No wonder Togashi had to take all that time off especially for these chapters. Drawing this many people is not easy at all...

IM M MLITERALLY CRYIGN HH hh  G HHhhhhh UE h fhf hh n SNIFF

I like Uvo and Machi’s dynamic lol. They seemed to already be friends which is just really funny since she’s just this tiny little child and then Uvo is like. Already like 6 foot 2 or something idk. (He grows to be 8′5.)

This is so funny because when you think of the Phantom Troupe you think of incredibly twisted people, but no, their original original name came from them trying to make a company name for their little dubbing thing.

Im Crying again haha. I mean I guess in the end he did become a villain, so wish fulfilled!

This line is so relevant to so many things involving Uvogin, even having to do with his character in the yorknew arc

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO ONO NO ON NO NON ONON ONO OOOHHH NOOOO SARASA. COMMUNICATION IS KEY SARASA. JUST TELL THEM THAT THERE WAS A BUNCH OF TAPES THERE. SARASA. SARASA NO STOP RUNNING COME BACK

NO!!!!!!!!!! YOU CANT DO THAT

Chapter 397: Founding Part 3

at least this time I can take fro m the viz official translation.. Ha ha

Are you ready guys? This is going to be a wild ride! (Warning for Child Abduction and death especially here)

So they finally notice that Sarasa’s not here and there Might be Something wrong! WHY DID I HAVE TO BE RIGHT ABOUT THIS IN MY CHAPTER 395 REVIEW.

This is Depressing but I love the attention to detail with how he’s gripping his shorts. I just wanted to point that out

Oh and haha he’s blaming himself for something only somewhat inside his control as a young child... Hmm.. That sounds familiar...

Dont you love when you start having a little more hope for something again...

Oh haha look at them on the bike Oh look everybodys doing their own part in the search!!!......

Oh god....

....And then everything just plummets....

Seriously when I read this part I felt my heart drop. SO much so that I made a whole redraw of it for chapter 357!

I love Hunter x Hunter.

THIS WAS THE TREE. THE TREE. TOGASHI WHY. I TRUSTED YOU WITH THE TREE. WHYYYYYY

mmm I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this

Currently completely Fine right now actually ignore everything I just said.

NEVERMIND. IM NOT SHOWING THE PANELS WHERE IT HAS WHATS IN THE BAG FOR OBVIOUS REASONS BUT LIKE. THERE WAS A NOTE. ON HER AND IT HAD A FREAKING SMILEY FACE ON IT

A SMILE FACE....

My exact reaction

GEEEZZZ!!!!!

GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IM NOT OK WITH THIS AT ALL OK OH MY GOD NEXT PAGE NOW PLEASE NEXT

Thank You.

I feel like the flowers on her head would be little orange roses.. Because well for one, the orange cleaner, and also orange roses are a symbol for Joy I think and that’s perfect for her

Im so glad that Togashi decided to make this little scene because I wouldn’t be able to handle what just happened before without this closure and Im pretty sure that was done on purpose because That was like one of the most horrific scenes in Hunter x Hunter in my opinion.

You could feel how everybody was panicking and the grief and anguish and it was just aaahhhhhhggghghhgh.......

Anyways. Onto another thing that is helping me process all of this lol

NEN!!

LITTLE MACHI AND NEN!! EVEN BETTER!

This is another line that I liked better in the unofficial translation

JUST. JUST. “Those pretty eyes of yours make my skin crawl.” ESPECIALLY IN THE CONTEXT OF MACHI IS SUCH A COOL LINE!!! anyways :)

I like nen so This is also very relieving. We are getting lore....

THIS GUYS LIKE 11 AND HES ALREADY DOING STUFF TO FIX METEOR CITY. SO IS CHROLLO THE REASON WHY METEOR CITY HAS TO DO WITH THE MAFIA???? PROBABLY.

Add Predicts the technological revolution to baby Chrollo’s achievement list. This kid Hunter x Hunter children are insane for a fact

He would do great in my English 10 Honors class with all that evidence and reasoning there

hey guys its Shalnark here  and today I’m going to explain chrollos Nefarious plot  

Hes so happy that he didnt have to do 3 paragraphs of more explaining! ..also

Jus dont even ask why I made this but I sure did I also made a video but idk how to put videos on tumblr other than have them be at the top which is not what I want so you just get this

I kind of wish we got more of younger Shalnark because we got focus on Paku and Uvo who are both... decreased  and you know...  

oh god I just realized

All the phantom troupe characters that are commonly nicknamed are Dead. Quick everybody stop saying Nobu for Nobunaga

Anyways

At least he gets a little bit of a moment here

I feel so bad for Sheila little sheila talk here

Like man her best friend just got Murdered and she can not do this. I bet part of her does not want to be involved with the troupe anymore because they have the most to do with her death, and maybe she even counts them responsible for them not caring, and with that she probably blames herself too.

I really want to see her again she is such a character and there’s no way that Togashi’s just gonna bring her back here and not have her be plot relevant. Was she for or against the kurta massacre!??!?!?!? wha????

Top ten ways to become a mass murderer

lets play a game. Is this a quote from Kurapika or Chrollo?

Look at all these parallels and foreshadowing... Putting that in perspective, that means that Chrollo became the very person he sought to destroy as a child, and I wonder if he realizes that, especially now in his current mental and emotional condition. But at the same time, he may have been expecting that. He should know that the Troupe has all the right to be persecuted with the amount of carnage that they’ve caused.

THIS OUT OF CONTEXT.

I think the whole thing with the Villain and this panel is a callback to Uvo’s line about being the worlds greatest villain, and maybe Chrollo was thinking that he would fit as leader because of that but...

Get pranked! Also notice how Paku is also gripping the end of her dress. Since I’m an empath, I can tell that Paku is having mixed feelings and is nervous about this /s

In 3 years he shed his old pair of eyes and then regrew Strange Eyes. Hold on.

This is extremely important and like one of the best things Ive ever made.

He has Strange Eyes HE GOT HIS STRANGE EYES LETS GOOOOOO

I decided I wanted to do math So their reunion happens around 7 years before the Kurta massacre, and that’s when Chrollo is 21.. so 10 years after sarasa’s death is when the Kurta massacre takes place.

Ok were finally to the end of this fun fun fun Chapter! I have 2 questions.

1. Where is Phinks?

2. Shalnark What has he the Hair and Outfit? What? Ok well technically he’s in style since this is like the mid-late 80′s then but he looks a little bit like a Flamboyant Pop star from that era and then everybody else is just regular for their character. Then there’s just Shalnark with his fluffy mullet and the oversized suit and the collar

And also if that was his style when and why did he change? We could have had a totally different Shalnark tbh but I’m happy with the one we have.

Anyways

Hope you enjoyed this absolute behemoth  of a post and I may do another one with the next two chapters some time

In the meantime, who knows, just keep doing what you do & make sure you drink enough water so that your pee looks like light pineapple juice or lemonade (that means youre healthy)

[the-real-rain-world-confessions]

Long ask, got a little carried away. Sorry not Sorry >w<".

I do want to point out that equating shipping funny scugs with actual crimes is very drastic. Like, shipping discourse shouldn't go there unless you seriously believe that X ship is causing real world harm. Don't compare furries to pedophiles or zoophilia or incest. I feel like I shouldn't have to even explain why that is offensive. Do you seriously think that someone who thinks Artificer is hot is going to, like, turn around and fuck their dog? Do you really think that it'll even make someone more likely to accept someone fucking their dog? And I'm saying all of this because making drastic statements like this actually *is* harmful. It degrades the meaning of the terms and it justifies violence against a group that doesn't deserve it. And this part comes from the fact that most of the furries I do know are gay and/or autistic, but seeing ppl equate being into furry shit, which often isn't 100% about sex in the first place, doesn't sit right with me.

It also distracts from talking about actually harmful fandom ships; in this instance I mean fandom (ambiguous) because Rain World's fandom hasn't gotten any popular ship dynamics that are genuinely harmful. And, genuinely harmful ships is a more complicated topic than just "X ship bad" since ships are going to be interpreted by a ton of different people and taken in a ton of different directions. And the components that make a ship harmful can be complicated, but I think it usually comes down to the normalization of behavior. Like, that's why shipping a kid with an adult is always bad - the more normalized that is, the more that idea as gross or taboo gets eroded. Thus, the less likely someone is to respond appropriately to actual pedophilia. In this hypothetical, people shipping the adult and child aren't inherently pedophiles, but they would be contributing to the issue of pedophilia and creating a safe space for that behavior. So, again, I ask the people who are throwing the terms "zoophilia" around like candy, do you seriously believe that lewding slugcats creates a safe space for people who actually fuck real animals? Do you seriously believe that lewding slugcats erodes the barriers and taboos we have around fucking real animals?

I think Moon/Pebbles ship is a good example of what I mean. The reason incestuous ships are bad is because they normalize incest, which is its own can of worms that I'm frankly not equipped to address. While I could've sworn that Moon and Pebbles canonically see themselves as siblings and the one time I saw a Moon/Pebbles shipfic it was 100% intended as incest, that doesn't quite make it fair to pass judgement on everyone who likes the ship. Is the ship problematic? A little, maybe? But that's because the ship is prone to the same issues I said about incest, down to people talking around the fact that the two characters fucking are related, BUT Rain World is a game that very heavily leans on players making assumptions about the world based on scarce info, especially pre-Downpour. There's a ton of canon information that's easily missed. Like, the idea that Moon and Pebbles are siblings comes from their physical proximity and Moon being titled "Big Sis Moon." I personally like to imagine that everyone in the local group calls her that. This doesn't make ships like Lilypad and Eclipse a problem unless someone were to write them as incest. Likewise, someone could reasonably play the game and just not see Moon and Pebbles as siblings. In which case, shipping them isn't incest because it's not written as incest. Therefore, it's inappropriate to imply that anyone shipping these two characters is into incest. And I think Moon/Pebbles is the closest commonish RW ship to actually being a problem. And it's OK to be put off by the ship , I'm personally put off by it. But accusing people of being things that they are not isn't ok.

And, take a more popular ship - Sunstone. It has the capacity to be written in a harmful way. And there are plenty of fics where their relationship is written to be unhealthy, bringing up canon points to support this characterization. That doesn't make the ship inherently harmful. Wholesome Sunstone and Toxic Sunstone are both interpretations of an interpretation. Not to mention that Toxic Sunstone isn't even an inherently harmful interpretation to make art or writing for. There's a lot of value to be had exploring this kind of dynamic. On fact, fiction is probably the safest way one could possibly explore that. While it is possible to use Sunstone to glorify abuse, that isn't representative of the ship because the premise doesn't imply glorifying abuse.

This is what I mean when I say don't hurl serious accusations at people over ships. Even ships that have a tendency to be iffy. Even ships where the majority of content you've seen of them is just straight up disgusting. And this especially applies to Rain World, where canon is loose and easy to miss at best. Like, even going to the most concretely problem ship possible in the game, Surv/Monk, you can read the game's events as them being close childhood friends from the same colony. There's nothing explicitly calling them siblings, and I think that takes a reasonable assumption to make, especially if you're someone who doesn't pay mind to external sources of information. So, don't throw serious accusations at people unless you're being genuine about it, please.

.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #182

When was the last time you admired some flowers? What kind/color were they? Recently; they were white crape myrtles.

Are you in the process of watching or re-watching a series at the moment? I could never, ever picture myself rewatching a whole series ever again, you can barely get me to sit through a new one, but Girt and I are working on The Rain for the first time.

If so, how many seasons does it have? And what season are you currently on? There are three right now, and we're on two.

Has anyone you know gotten a new pet recently? Yes, my sister Misty's family adopted a corgi (I can't remember her name), and I think someone I shot pictures for once recently got a panther chameleon because she's been posting quite a few videos with him.

How old were you 10 years ago? Who were your closest friends at that point? 17, yeesh. Ten whole years ago... Jason was my boyfriend and closest friend, then there was Summer, Hannia, Girt, Alon, Maria, Megan...

Do you still speak to any of them? Summer and I talk/see each other sometimes because she's actually part of my sister's inlaws' family, Girt and I are together, and Megan and I sometimes interact over Facebook, but we don't really talk, I also have Alon on there, but she barely touches it so we don't really talk either.

Have you ever kissed someone of another race? I mean my boyfriend's father was pure Native American, but despite the fact he doesn't visibly display any traditional traits whatsoever, it'd be incorrect to say he's totally Caucasian.

Are there any races you wouldn't kiss? No, race means exactly nothing to me with relationships.

What is your favorite thing about your best friend? He is extremely trustworthy and honest. I never feel like he's hiding something from me or sugarcoating things, but he's also gentle with me. His balance in this stuff is incredible.

What do you mostly have in common with your best friend? We're very introverted. Love video games.

Do you like it when men shave their chests? If you are a guy, do you shave? I don't care.

What is your favorite kind of video game? Horror ones, specifically psychological or survival.

When you’re visiting a site, do you still type "www."? No.

What can you hear right now? I'm watching Markiplier's Resident Evil 8 LP. Two years late, but... I'm apparently having a streak of wanting to watch his stuff again.

Do you think it’s okay for kids to have cellphones? Yes, HOWEVER I definitely support limiting screen time and gauging what they're allowed to do on there with age but especially maturity. At the very beginning, I'm all for being able to call your guardians, because that cellphone might save your baby's life in horrible situations like abductions. From there, you be the judge based on your unique child and various factors relating to them.

Do you watch anime? If so, what are some of your favorites? Yeah, they can have very interesting plots. My favorite is Fullmetal Alchemist (including the Brotherhood iteration of it, idk which I enjoy more), and I'm also fond of Ginga Densetsu Weed and Deadman Wonderland. I've seen a decent chunk of Attack on Titan and was also into it.

Do you have any siblings? If so which one of them do you get along with the best? I have six technically, but I only know five. I don't really know which one I get along with best; I feel like Katie and I have the most compatibility, but I don't feel particularly "close" to any of my siblings and I fucking hate that.

What’s your favorite TV show? And who’s your favorite character from it? Meerkat Manor is my favorite show of all time, and Mozart was my favorite character.

Have you violated any of the 10 Commandments? If so, what? Yeah; I don't give a fuck about honoring God's name or even respecting him in any way or form.

Do people think you look like either of your parents? Does that offend you? I've heard both, and no. I'll admit as a kid having someone say I looked like my dad was mildly offensive just because I was a girl and he's a man, but I certainly don't give a shit now because I know what they mean, just features.

Do you prefer regular bacon or turkey bacon? Regular, turkey bacon is gross.

Do you think it’s weird when people talk to their pets like people? No? I honestly think that's probably very healthy for the animal, and the owner too. I think it strengthens bonds, and it must certainly make the pet feel included and like family to be treated like how you treat other people.

What is the last place, other than home, that you stayed overnight? Uhhhh I feel like I haven't done that in over a year now; I'm quite sure the last time was when I was in the hospital last... March or May, whatever it was.

What is the furthest you have traveled alone? Illinois.

Have you ever dated someone simply for their looks? No.

Have you ever been drunk? No, only lightly tipsy.

What was the name of the main character in the last book you read? Blue, in the book I'm currently reading. The last book I finished, Qibli was the protagonist.

What are three of your favorite toppings for salads? Bacon bits, cucumber, and uh... that's basically it lmfao, my salads are very simple. There's too many additions I DON'T like.

Do you prefer pizza or hot dogs? Pizza.

What is your favorite pizza topping? If I could only pick one, I'd say just regular ol' pepperoni.

Is your dad a jerk? I think he's... oblivious, if anything. He doesn't TRY to be mean, he's really very funny and playful but majorly socially unfiltered. Basically, I think he's capable of being unpleasant, but it's rarely malicious. He's just an old grampa with a few screws kinda loose lol

Is anyone in your family currently in the military? No, not that I know of.

What is your favorite dog breed? Meh I always answer this with such a big list, I love so many. I have been newly very into shar peis, though. There's an Instagram one that I'm obsessed with.

Have you found any gray hairs on your head? No, that might be the day I crumble lol

Do you own a bikini? Oh hell no, I haven't since I was a teenager.

If you were a rockstar, what color guitar would you have? I want to say pink, but REALISTICALLY, I'm not sure I would. Probably mostly black, and it'd probably have skulls and/or occult-ish stuff on it.

Would you rather have a personal chef or personal house cleaner? HOUSE CLEANER.

Do you have any zits on your face right now? Ugh I have one on the upper right of my hairline right now. You can't see it unless I pull my hair back, thankfully. It's not a terrible one, at least.

What are three of your favorite bakery items? Cinnamon rolls, donuts, muffins.

What are three creative hobbies you enjoy? Writing, photography, drawing.

What are three things you like about church? I like how they look and that is literally it. Besides appearance, I only have negative shit to say about them. I grew up forced into church and will never set foot into a sermon again.

What was the last type of pie you ate? It was probably trying an apple or peach pie, I'm not a fan.

Which book did you love when you were younger? The Warriors series by S.E. Hinton was a major obsession.

Which book series could you read again? ^ I actually kinda wanna get back into that once I'm caught up in Wings of Fire, but idk, it's been so so many years that I don't even remember where I stopped, but I know I was deeeep in, so I'd hate re-reading it all. I don't re-read stuff.

Tell me about your first breakup, if you had one. I mean that *technically* woulda been with Aaron, and that was... nothing, given it was a very puppy love situation; I wasn't ready for dating yet. My first real, serious breakup was Jason, and well I tried to kill myself ultimately because of it, so-

Which person would you chose to travel the world with? I'd like it to be Girt, but realistically it would probably be my mom; my boyfriend is such a homebody, like he genuinely doesn't like vacations/traveling and I think he's insane.

Do you have (a) stuffed animal(s) sitting in your room? Which one(s)? Lots of meerkats, there's a Cheshire cat, grumpy cat, a cute lil circular bat, a random fennec fox, and my favorite plushie from childhood, a moose. I plan on trimming the numbers down though whenever I redecorate my room.

Have you ever had to do a doubletake on someone 'cuz they were so pretty? Oh I've totally done this with Alon at some point, god when I look back I can't believe I never realized THEN that my ass ain't straight lmfao

Is your last ex currently in a relationship? I have no idea, I don't keep up with her at all; even if I'm curious of how she is/what she's up to, I don't allow myself to look at any of her socials.

Who was the last female you were introduced to? ummmm I'm actually not sure? Probably a doctor, realistically.

Who was the last male you were introduced to? A family friend's friend, Larry.

Do you use a nightlight? Yeah; it's a little Saturn lamp that I can change the colors of.

What’s your opinion on border control? Look dude I don't even want borders TO exist; every single goddamn person has as much right to be on this earth in any specific location as anyone else, get the hell outta here with that "illegal human" horseshit.

What are your favorite things to create? Feral meerkat OCs.

What’s something you prefer to keep private? My sexual life.

Are you good at prioritizing? NO

If you’re not religious, were you ever? What made you lose faith? Yes, and fucking life itself. A few months back I made a massive FB post regarding why I left my faith, and in the end it really made me realize that I have bad religious wounds, maybe even trauma but I'm not 100% sure if it's to that extent. I just know I'm extremely hateful towards religions like Christianity, and it's something I actually recently broke down over because I WANT to chill out with how the very topic sets me on fucking fire; I'm never going to like faiths like those, but I want to be kinder towards their existence and just stop being SO bothered by them and other people having them. It prompted me to try to find a therapist specializing in religious trauma (didn't get far btw, thanks shitty insurance <3).

What feeling do you have the most difficulty in expressing? Envy, most likely. It makes me very uncomfortable.

When was the last time you looked at your significant other/crush’s Facebook profile? Oh jesus I'm not sure, I never look at it, really. Especially when he touches FB like, never, and never updates anything, what would even be the point?

[ms0milk]

the Hashira & their favorite pet names

| Hashira x reader

a/n: no Muichiro bc baby. the reader is fem-leaning

i swear i write for other fandoms, i'm just consumed by the power of these flamboyant fucks

Kyojuro

i obviously and firmly believe this man calls you one of three things

My Love

My Darling

Dear

(y/n if he’s worried)

kyo is nothing if not a gentleman

he thinks sweeping romantic terms of endearment are obviously the only way to address his partner-divine

there’s almost no argument to be had over this

he likes for you to call him by his first name

he thinks it’s so intimate

nothing fancy just

Kyojuro

it makes his heart dance

he was such an outgoing child that he wanted to call everyone by their first names and have a bunch of really good friends

which came on a little strong for the neighborhood kids, guests at the house, his father’s pillar teammates, strangers at the market— kind of anyone he was ever introduced to

so his parents told him

“kyojuro, when two people love and trust each other very much, when they’ve known each other for a long time, they use their first names. those are your closest friends, the ones who see you like your family.”

his eyes got all wide and he stared back at them and said, “like you two.”

so

here we are

i would stake everything i have for this man’s happiness. im a wreck

Tengen

in my head

this man

kind of talks like a mob boss

not quite but i don’t know how else to describe it

his favorite things to call you are

sweetheart**

**primarily

babe

princesses (derogatory)

he’s a bit of an informal guy but he’s got his husband priorities straight

using pet names shows the rest of the world you belong to each other

you and the wives are all warming up to calling each other by your first names

which is adorable

and tengen is trying to get the three of them to stop calling him Lord, since it makes him feel a little weird in his day to day, with neighbors and whatnot around

not needing to know all his shinobi business

he was never a Lord to you so this isn’t a habit you’ve needed to break

calling him Tengen so casually kind of made everyone’s head spin

in private though

i know this man is an animal

i just KNOW

he likes you calling him all kinds of “M’ Lord”

and speaking sweetly & formally

not always, just *special* occasions

Giyuu

this one’s not spilling his secrets to me no sir no how

hmm

my best guess is

honestly

your first name

if he’s feeling frisky

maybe a y/n ✨chan✨

but never over the top with this one

he’d much rather keep it simple; openly being in a relationship seems romantic enough for him

the fact that anyone knows anything about his personal life is a miracle

i WOULD LIKE TO CLARIFY

this does not mean the man isn't a f r e a k in other scenarios

that's for a later date

for himself, he much prefers romantic acts over cute pet names

even just calling him Tomioka in public seems a bit melodramatic to him

but when you lean in close to his ear

early in the morning over breakfast

in the thrum of the market

so he can hear you over the sound of a noisy corps party

or at night when you're tucked in together

and whisper

"baby~"

he sputters

Shinobu

she is a perfect

miserable

little menace

i'm in love with her

in public she'll usually either call you by your first name or call you Honey

H o n e y 🍯

my heart burns for her

also in the rotation is

Angel

pretty standard pet names

but just imagine her soothing voice saying them

not so standard anymore no sir

the menace behavior starts exactly where the sweet facade ends

when she brushes past you in the lab

or kisses you goodbye

she likes to tack on a little possession

"my sweet Y/n"

"goodbye my angel"

K.O.

she started doing this before you even got together

but even in a crowded room she always made sure you were the only one who could hear it

which made you feel like you were slowly losing your mind but that's besides the point

bc now you’re her's 🤷🏽‍♀️

she likes it when you're possessive right back!

"g'morning my sweet baby"

and you can really get her flustered if you say it in public

pull up to a Pillar party at HQ with a:

"Kocho! my darling, where should i put the snacks i brought?"

there's so few ways to get this girl off her game for a second

this is one

Sanemi

okay okay okay

not big on outward affection

but sanemi is a loving guy!

spends every day working hard so his brother can have a normal life

even if he commits manslaughter along the way

when it come to you though

loving ≠ sweet

he loves you, but he also quite likes you

which means trouble

joining tengen's quasi mafia club

when he's feeling soft enough he likes to be wickedly sarcastic

"c'mere dreamboat"

"oi sweet cheeks you're hoggin the bath scoot over"

he only calls you y/n when he really wants to fluster you

or if you're in trouble

or if you get lost at the market

and he always says it real calm

he likes one name the most though

Peach Girl

loves peaches

he's an ass man

he's also a whore

so when you call him by his first name

(which does not happen often)

he short circuits for a second

and he loves

L O V E S

it when you call him 'sir'

you technically work for him, so this a professional curtesy

until it is very unprofessional

but no matter the context it makes him feral

you have him wrapped around your little finger

you're playing cat's cradle w his limbs

Mitsuri

i Know it seems obvious

she LOVES pet names

duh

but you're not ready

for the absolutely outta pocket shit she comes up with

"sweet-chariot-who-pulls-back-the-curtain-of-night, where are you?"

girl

"my-heavenly-little-bug! i missed you"

"you look so cute ender-of all-sadness-on-this-the-sacred-earth"

GIRL

if someone's around when she's calling to you they always feel the urge to say a m e n

a simple "baby" will not suffice

although anything you call her, even Mitsuri, knocks her out for an entire afternoon

unconscious

sweating

on the floor

you had to talk to her about her over the top terms of endearment

it was a little distracting to hear a whole hymn in the breeze and try to figure out if it was a passing procession of monks or your girlfriend calling you downstairs for dinner

she she settled on a few unusual, but effective names

ladybug

dove

baby doll

and every now and then she's allowed a my-sun-and-my-stars

Obanai

everyone's favorite hardass

i'm gonna have to make a soft dom <--> hard dom list for the hashira, don't let me forget

bc this gentleman

this one

uses your name as a punishment

he's soft and sweet with his Love don't get me wrong, but much like Shinobu and Sanemi, he likes to use his words to get to you

he likes to work you up with low whispers while you're making breakfast or finishing up work late at night

he'll get your attention by calling your first name, then brush your arm and murmur something fully uncalled for

he's a very private individual tho

so never in public, even if you're alone

anywhere other than your property, he's pretty formal

but get him sleepy enough

he's all "sweetie" this "sweetie" that

he can even be a little whiney about it if he's exhausted

because he's strict about his demeanor in public and because you know how worked up he can be in private

you like to tease him where you can

maybe you'll "accidentally" call him cupcake when wishing him luck on a mission with his teammates

"accidentally" ask for Iguro when checking in on him at work

all to get him to say your name angrily a little later

otherwise

pretty vanilla when it comes to terms of endearment

he's also a huge self-loathing softie

so he LOVES it when you when you call him something sweet and a little silly

"Plum, do you need anything from the market?"

"good morning Sunshine!"

this extends to Kaburamaru

call that sweet snake "lovebug" one time and Obanai's whipping out the ring

pls love this gremlin softly

Gyomei

hmmm

i honestly don't see this man in a deeply sexual relationship like some of the other hashira

but in an otherwise romantic or personal relationship! this man's the goat

always asks what you prefer to be called and then never ever messes it up

he thinks names are powerful

gyomei does not trust easily, but once he's let you into his life he is deeply committed to your happiness

so we've got another first name lover over here

there's only a handful of people he's close enough to to call by their first names, so that in and of itself is special

he likes the same treatment

respect = respect

but that doesn't mean his heart doesn't catch in his throat ever so slightly when you say "hime..jima" for the first time

he doesn't even cry

life is mostly a righteous reminder of suffering to him

but when you slowly make sure you're saying his name right that first time

smiling

he feels warm

[missmentelle]

Why Smart People Believe Stupid Things

If you’ve been paying attention for the last couple of years, you might have noticed that the world has a bit of a misinformation problem. 

The problem isn’t just with the recent election conspiracies, either. The last couple of years has brought us the rise (and occasionally fall) of misinformation-based movements like:

Sandy Hook conspiracies

Gamergate

Pizzagate

The MRA/incel/MGTOW movements

anti-vaxxers

flat-earthers

the birther movement

the Illuminati 

climate change denial

Spygate

Holocaust denial 

COVID-19 denial 

5G panic 

QAnon 

But why do people believe this stuff?

It would be easy - too easy - to say that people fall for this stuff because they’re stupid. We all want to believe that smart people like us are immune from being taken in by deranged conspiracies. But it’s just not that simple. People from all walks of life are going down these rabbit holes - people with degrees and professional careers and rich lives have fallen for these theories, leaving their loved ones baffled. Decades-long relationships have splintered this year, as the number of people flocking to these conspiracies out of nowhere reaches a fever pitch. 

So why do smart people start believing some incredibly stupid things? It’s because:

Our brains are built to identify patterns. 

Our brains fucking love puzzles and patterns. This is a well-known phenomenon called apophenia, and at one point, it was probably helpful for our survival - the prehistoric human who noticed patterns in things like animal migration, plant life cycles and the movement of the stars was probably a lot more likely to survive than the human who couldn’t figure out how to use natural clues to navigate or find food. 

The problem, though, is that we can’t really turn this off. Even when we’re presented with completely random data, we’ll see patterns. We see patterns in everything, even when there’s no pattern there. This is why people see Jesus in a burnt piece of toast or get superstitious about hockey playoffs or insist on always playing at a certain slot machine - our brains look for patterns in the constant barrage of random information in our daily lives, and insist that those patterns are really there, even when they’re completely imagined. 

A lot of conspiracy theories have their roots in people making connections between things that aren’t really connected. The belief that “vaccines cause autism” was bolstered by the fact that the first recognizable symptoms of autism happen to appear at roughly the same time that children receive one of their rounds of childhood immunizations - the two things are completely unconnected, but our brains have a hard time letting go of the pattern they see there. Likewise, many people were quick to latch on to the fact that early maps of COVID infections were extremely similar to maps of 5G coverage -  the fact that there’s a reasonable explanation for this (major cities are more likely to have both high COVID cases AND 5G networks) doesn’t change the fact that our brains just really, really want to see a connection there. 

Our brains love proportionality. 

Specifically, our brains like effects to be directly proportional to their causes - in other words, we like it when big events have big causes, and small causes only lead to small events. It’s uncomfortable for us when the reverse is true. And so anytime we feel like a “big” event (celebrity death, global pandemic, your precious child is diagnosed with autism) has a small or unsatisfying cause (car accident, pandemics just sort of happen every few decades, people just get autism sometimes), we sometimes feel the need to start looking around for the bigger, more sinister, “true” cause of that event. 

Consider, for instance, the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot four times by a Turkish member of a known Italian paramilitary secret society who’d recently escaped from prison - on the surface, it seems like the sort of thing conspiracy theorists salivate over, seeing how it was an actual multinational conspiracy. But they never had much interest in the assassination attempt. Why? Because the Pope didn’t die. He recovered from his injuries and went right back to Pope-ing. The event didn’t have a serious outcome, and so people are content with the idea that one extremist carried it out. The death of Princess Diana, however, has been fertile ground for conspiracy theories; even though a woman dying in a car accident is less weird than a man being shot four times by a paid political assassin, her death has attracted more conspiracy theories because it had a bigger outcome. A princess dying in a car accident doesn’t feel big enough. It’s unsatisfying. We want such a monumentous moment in history to have a bigger, more interesting cause. 

These theories prey on pre-existing fear and anger. 

Are you a terrified new parent who wants the best for their child and feels anxious about having them injected with a substance you don’t totally understand? Congrats, you’re a prime target for the anti-vaccine movement. Are you a young white male who doesn’t like seeing more and more games aimed at women and minorities, and is worried that “your” gaming culture is being stolen from you? You might have been very interested in something called Gamergate. Are you a right-wing white person who worries that “your” country and way of life is being stolen by immigrants, non-Christians and coastal liberals? You’re going to love the “all left-wingers are Satantic pedo baby-eaters” messaging of QAnon. 

Misinformation and conspiracy theories are often aimed strategically at the anxieties and fears that people are already experiencing. No one likes being told that their fears are insane or irrational; it’s not hard to see why people gravitate towards communities that say “yes, you were right all along, and everyone who told you that you were nuts to be worried about this is just a dumb sheep. We believe you, and we have evidence that you were right along, right here.” Fear is a powerful motivator, and you can make people believe and do some pretty extreme things if you just keep telling them “yes, that thing you’re afraid of is true, but also it’s way worse than you could have ever imagined.”

Real information is often complicated, hard to understand, and inherently unsatisfying. 

The information that comes from the scientific community is often very frustrating for a layperson; we want science to have hard-and-fast answers, but it doesn’t. The closest you get to a straight answer is often “it depends” or “we don’t know, but we think X might be likely”. Understanding the results of a scientific study with any confidence requires knowing about sampling practices, error types, effect sizes, confidence intervals and publishing biases. Even asking a simple question like “is X bad for my child” will usually get you a complicated, uncertain answer - in most cases, it really just depends. Not understanding complex topics makes people afraid - it makes it hard to trust that they’re being given the right information, and that they’re making the right choices. 

Conspiracy theories and misinformation, on the other hand, are often simple, and they are certain. Vaccines bad. Natural things good. 5G bad. Organic food good. The reason girls won’t date you isn’t a complex combination of your social skills, hygiene, appearance, projected values, personal circumstances, degree of extroversion, luck and life phase - girls won’t date you because feminism is bad, and if we got rid of feminism you’d have a girlfriend. The reason Donald Trump was an unpopular president wasn’t a complex combination of his public bigotry, lack of decorum, lack of qualifications, open incompetence, nepotism, corruption, loss of soft power, refusal to uphold the basic responsibilities of his position or his constant lying - they hated him because he was fighting a secret sex cult and they’re all in it. 

Instead of making you feel stupid because you’re overwhelmed with complex information, expert opinions and uncertain advice, conspiracy theories make you feel smart - smarter, in fact, than everyone who doesn’t believe in them. And that’s a powerful thing for people living in a credential-heavy world. 

Many conspiracy theories are unfalsifiable. 

It is very difficult to prove a negative. If I tell you, for instance, that there’s no such thing as a purple swan, it would be very difficult for me to actually prove that to you - I could spend the rest of my life photographing swans and looking for swans and talking to people who know a lot about swans, and yet the slim possibility would still exist that there was a purple swan out there somewhere that I just hadn’t found yet. That’s why, in most circumstances, the burden of proof lies with the person making the extraordinary claim - if you tell me that purple swans exist, we should continue to assume that they don’t until you actually produce a purple swan. 

Conspiracy theories, however, are built so that it’s nearly impossible to “prove” them wrong. Is there any proof that the world’s top-ranking politicians and celebrities are all in a giant child sex trafficking cult? No. But can you prove that they aren’t in a child sex-trafficking cult? No, not really. Even if I, again, spent the rest of my life investigating celebrities and following celebrities and talking to people who know celebrities, I still couldn’t definitely prove that this cult doesn’t exist - there’s always a chance that the specific celebrities I’ve investigated just aren’t in the cult (but other ones are!) or that they’re hiding evidence of the cult even better than we think. Lack of evidence for a conspiracy theory is always treated as more evidence for the theory - we can’t find anything because this goes even higher up than we think! They’re even more sophisticated at hiding this than we thought! People deeply entrenched in these theories don’t even realize that they are stuck in a circular loop where everything seems to prove their theory right - they just see a mountain of “evidence” for their side. 

Our brains are very attached to information that we “learned” by ourselves.

Learning accurate information is not a particularly interactive or exciting experience. An expert or reliable source just presents the information to you in its entirety, you read or watch the information, and that’s the end of it. You can look for more information or look for clarification of something, but it’s a one-way street - the information is just laid out for you, you take what you need, end of story. 

Conspiracy theories, on the other hand, almost never show their hand all at once. They drop little breadcrumbs of information that slowly lead you where they want you to go. This is why conspiracy theorists are forever telling you to “do your research” - they know that if they tell you everything at once, you won’t believe them. Instead, they want you to indoctrinate yourself slowly over time, by taking the little hints they give you and running off to find or invent evidence that matches that clue. If I tell you that celebrities often wear symbols that identify them as part of a cult and that you should “do your research” about it, you can absolutely find evidence that substantiates my claim - there are literally millions of photos of celebrities out there, and anyone who looks hard enough is guaranteed to find common shapes, poses and themes that might just mean something (they don’t - eyes and triangles are incredibly common design elements, and if I took enough pictures of you, I could also “prove” that you also clearly display symbols that signal you’re in the cult). 

The fact that you “found” the evidence on your own, however, makes it more meaningful to you. We trust ourselves, and we trust that the patterns we uncover by ourselves are true. It doesn’t feel like you’re being fed misinformation - it feels like you’ve discovered an important truth that “they” didn’t want you to find, and you’ll hang onto that for dear life. 

Older people have not learned to be media-literate in a digital world. 

Fifty years ago, not just anyone could access popular media. All of this stuff had a huge barrier to entry - if you wanted to be on TV or be in the papers or have a radio show, you had to be a professional affiliated with a major media brand. Consumers didn’t have easy access to niche communities or alternative information - your sources of information were basically your local paper, the nightly news, and your morning radio show, and they all more or less agreed on the same set of facts. For decades, if it looked official and it appeared in print, you could probably trust that it was true. 

Of course, we live in a very different world today - today, any asshole can accumulate an audience of millions, even if they have no credentials and nothing they say is actually true (like “The Food Babe”, a blogger with no credentials in medicine, nutrition, health sciences, biology or chemistry who peddles health misinformation to the 3 million people who visit her blog every month). It’s very tough for older people (and some younger people) to get their heads around the fact that it’s very easy to create an “official-looking” news source, and that they can’t necessarily trust everything they find on the internet. When you combine that with a tendency toward “clickbait headlines” that often misrepresent the information in the article, you have a generation struggling to determine who they can trust in a media landscape that doesn’t at all resemble the media landscape they once knew. 

These beliefs become a part of someone’s identity. 

A person doesn’t tell you that they believe in anti-vaxx information - they tell you that they ARE an anti-vaxxer. Likewise, people will tell you that they ARE a flat-earther, a birther, or a Gamergater. By design, these beliefs are not meant to be something you have a casual relationship with, like your opinion of pizza toppings or how much you trust local weather forecasts - they are meant to form a core part of your identity. 

And once something becomes a core part of your identity, trying to make you stop believing it becomes almost impossible. Once we’ve formed an initial impression of something, facts just don’t change our minds. If you identify as an antivaxxer and I present evidence that disproves your beliefs, in your mind, I’m not correcting inaccurate information - I am launching a very personal attack against a core part of who you are. In fact, the more evidence I present, the more you will burrow down into your antivaxx beliefs, more confident than ever that you are right. Admitting that you are wrong about something that is important to you is painful, and your brain would prefer to simply deflect conflicting information rather than subject you to that pain.

We can see this at work with something called the confirmation bias. Simply put, once we believe something, our brains hold on to all evidence that that belief is true, and ignore evidence that it’s false. If I show you 100 articles that disprove your pet theory and 3 articles that confirm it, you’ll cling to those 3 articles and forget about the rest. Even if I show you nothing but articles that disprove your theory, you’ll likely go through them and pick out any ambiguous or conflicting information as evidence for “your side”, even if the conclusion of the article shows that you are wrong - our brains simply care about feeling right more than they care about what is actually true.  

There is a strong community aspect to these theories. 

There is no one quite as supportive or as understanding as a conspiracy theorist - provided, of course, that you believe in the same conspiracy theories that they do. People who start looking into these conspiracy theories are told that they aren’t crazy, and that their fears are totally valid. They’re told that the people in their lives who doubted them were just brainwashed sheep, but that they’ve finally found a community of people who get where they’re coming from. Whenever they report back to the group with the “evidence” they’ve found or the new elaborations on the conspiracy theory that they’ve been thinking of (“what if it’s even worse than we thought??”), they are given praise for their valuable contributions. These conspiracy groups often become important parts of people’s social networks - they can spend hours every day talking with like-minded people from these communities and sharing their ideas. 

Of course, the flipside of this is that anyone who starts to doubt or move away from the conspiracy immediately loses that community and social support. People who have broken away from antivaxx and QAnon often say that the hardest part of leaving was losing the community and friendships they’d built - not necessarily giving up on the theory itself. Many people are rejected by their real-life friends and family once they start to get entrenched in conspiracy theories; the friendships they build online in the course of researching these theories often become the only social supports they have left, and losing those supports means having no one to turn to at all. This is by design - the threat of losing your community has kept people trapped in abusive religious sects and cults for as long as those things have existed. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid plays a trivia game at the request of his wife, Y/N, but he’s in for more than some heaving hitting questions. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife Reader 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Author’s Note: I really don’t think that this summary does this justice

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex 

Shuffling the cards with a shake in her hand, Y/N tells herself to just breathe. This is something that Spencer and her have been looking forward to, dreamed about, and constantly discussed. Regardless of how much she knows Spencer loves her, there’s a lingering seed of doubt that only grows with the sound of Spencer walking into their house. 

“Y/N!, I’m home, darlin’,” Spencer calls from the hallway, dropping the “g” because he knows that Y/N finds it endearing. 

“Baby,” Y/N yells from the table. “I’m in the dining room. I made us a trivia game! Come play with me, I need your brains,” she finishes, smiling at her husband, who has been away for nearly two weeks.

“You know do I love trivia, Y/N,” Spencer says. He takes a seat next to his wife, but before he can kiss her, she pushes him out of his chair and motions for him to take the seat opposite of her.

“Before we start, how was the case? Everyone make it home in one piece?” Y/N asks concerned over the wellbeing of some of her closest friends. 

“Everyone’s fine, Y/N. The unsub ended up being a team. Two women hellbent on getting revenge for their children’s murders. One of them got away,” Spencer explains, solemnly. 

“Oof,” Y/N says, letting out a sigh. “It’s at times like these that I’m glad I don’t have your job. I’m kinda glad she got away, between you and me.” 

“It’s hard, sometimes we don’t really know who we’re bringing justice too. But, I’d do anything to protect my future children, and you. Anything I needed to do to keep you safe,” Spencer tells her, leaning across the table and kissing Y/N’s hand. She gives him a sheepish smile, but inside her mind is eager to get this trivia game started. 

“You’re a charmer, Dr. Reid,” Y/N flirts. 

“Just for you, Y/N. Now you mentioned something about trivia,” Spencer says, clapping his hands together excitedly. 

“I just thought you’d like to rest your brain after a case but shifting though all those facts you got stored up there. And I always said you should try out for Jeopardy,” Y/N says as she collects the cards with the clues. 

She spreads out the categories, Child Psychology, Children’s Books, Labor & Delivery, Nursery Rhymes, X-Epecting, on the table. They were all handwritten on different colorful pieces of cardstock and decorated with baby animals and block letters. Y/N read the categories aloud to her husband, allowing herself to steal a glance at his face while he concentrated on the categories, as if he already could answer the questions. 

“All right, Spencer, you pick first,” Y/N says, in her best Alex Trebek impression. 

“I’ll take Child Psychology for $200,” Spencer chooses, looking up to smile at Y/N. 

“This is the substitute mother that baby monkeys formed an attachment to in Harlow’s psychological experiment,” Y/N asks.

“Terry-Cloth,” Spencer interjects. 

“Not uh, Spence, you need to answer correctly,” Y/N teases. She looks up at him expectantly to choose the next clue. He rolls his eyes at her, but secretly he enjoys the playful banter they still share even after all these years. 

“Um, Children’s Books $200,” 

“This is the story of the clever spider that can weave words in her web,” 

“What is Charlotte’s Web?” 

“Correct, pick again please,” Y/N says, as she tries to maintain a stoic composure. 

“This is the average of days that newborns keep up their sleepless parents,” Y/N asks, sure that this question would stump her genius husband. But to no avail, Spencer answers the question correctly. 

“Okay! Next time try-outs are around, I’m forcing you to take the test,” Y/N says running over to kiss Spencer on the cheek. 

“You know judges are supposed to remain impartial, Y/N” Spencer tells her, putting his arm around her waist as if he’s signally her to sit in his lap. 

“I can’t help it, how about you win kisses every time you get a question right, Spence,” Y/N proposes. 

“I guess it’s worth more than fake money,” Spencer teases.

“You offend me, baby!” Y/N pretends to be hurt by Spencer’s words, but urges him to continue the game. 

“You only got a couple more left, Spence,” 

“Okay, how about X-Expecting for $200,” Spencer chooses. 

“This chromosome is linked to the baby’s mother,” Y/N quizzes, finding it difficult to keep her smiles and secrets at bay when Spencer’s arm tugs around her waist tightly and his fingers draw patterns under her shirt. 

“What is X-Chromosome,” Spencer answers before Y/N can even finish the clue. 

“You know that you’re supposed to wait until the clue is read, Spence. I should redact kisses,” Y/N fake threats. 

“No! Y/N I’ll die without your kisses, please!” Spencer cries out in pretend disain. Much to his amusement his goofy behavior leads Y/N to plant small pecks on his forehead. 

“There, that should hold you over,” 

“I doubt it, Y/N. I miss you already,” Spencer mutters into her shoulder, as if he’s trying to get closer to his wife more than he could already be with her sitting on his lap. 

“Two more clues till Final Jeopardy,” Y/N announces, ignoring the fact that she’s bypassing the rest of the clues and totally disregarding Double Jeopardy. 

“Hmm, let’s go to Nursery Rhymes for kissing for the rest of my life,” Spencer picks, peppering Y/N’s shoulder with kisses. 

“Huh! Look at that, Spencer, you got the Daily Double, so whatcha going to wager?” Y/N asks, knowing she’s pulling this Daily Double straight out of the air, but Spencer’s affection for only one lifetime is not nearly enough for her. 

“I’ll make a true Daily Double, darling. That means double the amount of kisses,” Spencer tells her, ticking the sides of Y/N waist. 

“Here’s your clue, Jack is urged to be nimble & quick, helping him do this,” Y/N reads from the card. 

“What is to jump over the candlestick?” Spencer guesses, closing his eyes to be assaulted by Y/N’s eager lips. 

“Yay! Double kisses!” Y/N yells happily as she pecks Spencer’s eyelids and nose, causing him to laugh at her light affection. 

“Next question, it’s the last one so you don’t get a choice, but I have so much confidence in you, my genius husband. These are the names of the 3 stages of labor?” Y/N questions, looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of Spencer’s mind at work. 

“What are dilation, expulsion, and afterbirth,” Spencer answers, once again perfectly. 

“Okay, Dr. Reid you’ve accumulated a total of double kisses for the rest of our lives. Your Final Jeopardy category is, Ready For It…” Y/N announces. 

“Last one,” Spencer says, and Y/N wonders if Spencer’s figured it out by now. She hands Spencer the small cardboard box. He looks at it curiously and Y/N can feel her heart in her stomach. He must know by now, she thinks. He’s brilliant, but sometimes he can be a little clueless when it comes to things like that. Y/N thinks back to how they danced around each other for years before Derek practically had to force them out on a date. He must know. 

“You’re clue is inside the box, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her voice shaky and unsure. 

Spencer carefully opens the cardboard box and reaches in to pull out the small pregnancy test that lay hidden inside. He looks it over, reading the test twice, three times, maybe even four times. He honestly can’t remember taking longer to read something. Spencer looks up at a terrified Y/N. 

“You’re pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe what he holds in his hand. 

“You’re gonna be a daddy, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her smile struggling to conceal itself in between the bouts of happiness and joy that courses through her veins. 

“A baby! Oh Y/N. A baby!” Spencer shouts rushing over to where his wife stands in between the entrance from their kitchen to their dining room. 

“You’re happy, right Spence. You want this with me-” Y/N starts, a sudden rush of fear lodging itself in her heart. 

“Of course I’m happy, Y/N. I’m so happy to be a dad. You’re going to be a mom! You’ll be the best mom, Y/N. I love you, Y/N,” Spencer says, crouching down to rub his hands on Y/N’s belly. 

“Hi sweet baby,” Y/N says softly, looking down at her belly and covering her hand over Spencer’s. “I want you to meet your daddy. He’s going to take care of you so well, he might talk a lot but you get used to it” 

“Hey, baby. It’s your dad,” Spencer murmurs quietly into Y/N’s belly. “I’m so glad that mommy told me about you. You gotta do some growing in there before you can meet us, but we love you so much, baby,”

“I really love you so much Y/N,” Spencer says as he sits up to kiss his wife. 

All his life Spencer’s loved science. He loves discovering the undiscovered. Memorizing all those theories and facts and methods could never prepare him for the awe that sat before him. He realizes that he’s looked at science all wrong. There's a beauty in science- a natural, unadulterated beauty that’s so rare to find. But he’s found it and he’s never letting go.

Thank You for Reading!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ 

If anyone wants to be tagged in new posts, feel free to comment and I’ll be thrilled to tag you <3

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga >:) pt. 3

more and more paragraphs ahead.  BE PREPARED!

i’m also writing this at 3 am so please bear with the horrendous grammar and punctuation.

chapter 63

i know he’s probably like this with everyone but i love how excited he is bragging about his students to her.  he’s like a child telling his mother about an amazing adventure he had with his friends, making sure he mentions every detail.  in the anime, their conversation lasted for 3:41 :3 backwards 341 is 143 which means i love you.  

1 letter = i

4 letters = love

3 letters = you

chapter 63

i love her fit!  i also like how both of them like to wear baggy clothing that accentuates their collarbones `w` it’s like they’re matching in a way.  even if she did tell him to cut the crap, she still let him run his mouth to his content LOL i feel like if he didn’t compliment himself at the end, she would have said something different.  UGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY CALLING HER

 ah, let me translate the conversation just in case anyone needs it.

utahime: you wanted to talk about the investigation, right?

gojo: well, got any idea who?

utahime: i have no idea.  no one seems suspicious.  what do we do now?  should we ask the students for help?

gojo: yeah, that’s fine.  i’m busy so asking the kids would be okay.  keep looking.  i’m counting on you.

I THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TRYING TO SAY.

OR it could mean that she’s asking if they should start investigating the students.  it would make sense either way because gojo says in the next panel that he doesn’t want to assume that the mole is a student, and in chapter 79, gojo sends the trio to utahime to help her.  

chapter 63

these two love their students to death.  neither of them wanted to assume that the mole was a student.  in chapter 79, when utahime is talking to the trio about the mole, nobara points out to the group that the traitor must be from kyoto because utahime is the one who’s reaching out to the tokyo side.  utahime has a dismal look on her face, almost like she’s saying, “i didn’t want it to turn out this way -- for this to be true.”  after mechamaru says his farewells to miwa on the train, mai tries to talk about what he did to which utahime says, “it doesn’t matter, he’s dead, after all,” with a similar sunken expression.  i just love how her care for the students is one of the biggest aspects of her personality that’s been showcased so far.  it’s also cool how it ties together with gojo’s belief that no child’s youth should be taken away.  i truly think these two have the capacity to understand each other to a deep level, down to the core.  seeing as utahime is also a teacher, it’s safe to assume that she also wants to raise the next generation of sorcerers to be strong.  utahime and gojo’s similarities and contrasting elements are so interwined, i really wonder if it’s intentional.  like am i looking too much into this?  are utahime and gojo really meant to be this connected?  think about it.  similar motivations, care of the kids, contrasting palettes, the bickering, long history.  IT’S JUST TOO MUCH. 

also can we mention how their phone calls and meetings must be heavily planned out?  this means they’ve talked and interacted with each other A LOT behind the scenes.  she doesn’t answer his call with “what do you want?  don’t bother me on my day off.”  she knows exactly why he’s calling her and they even speak in code.  she probably meets up with him and tells him to call her on a specific day and at a specific time.  they must know each other’s schedules very well in order to execute this investigation in complete secrecy.  when he says, “we can never be too sure who is listening in around utahime” it implies that they find calling a risk, so in order to guarantee that there is no one around, they have to meet up in person.  see where i’m getting at?  they talk A LOTTT and most likely are aware of each other’s daily lives.  

the fact that gojo is her main source of stress when he’s literally a 3 hour train ride away from her is hilarious LMAOOOO.  you know what that means, right?  he must call and text her constantly about random things to annoy her.  

chapter 65

ah yes, my favorite moment by far.  look at that smile on his face.  

chapter 65

he loves saying her name.  he probably rushed over with the sole purpose of doing something like this to her LMAOOOO like i mean, mei was in there with her so technically they both needed to be helped but judging from his words and expression, he only wanted to help utahime.  notice how mei’s not there in the debris.  could she possibly have suspected gojo’s presence or an outside force?  or was she fast enough to avoid being in the debris?  either way, her lack of presence in this scene helps highlight the fact that this is a special interaction between utahime and gojo.  he refers to her in a very familiar sense.  the most formal way to address someone is by their last name followed by the honorific, -san.  in gojo’s case, he should be calling her iori-san if they weren’t acquainted.  he doesn’t even bother to call her utahime-senpai.  granted, gojo is not the most respectful and socially competent person out there because geto points this out to him.  he isn’t even aware that she finds him annoying because he views her bad attitude toward him as her just playing along with him.  he probably thinks she’s flirting back LOLOL

since he asks her “you cryin?” that definitely means that gojo witnessed her crying on one occasion or maybe multiple.  who knows, the old utahime could have been a very emotional person.  while this is happening, mei is close to gojo, she then asks him if he would console her if she were to cry in a flirtatious manner.  gojo dismisses her attempt at flirting with him and says she won’t cry because she’s strong.  now normally, you’re supposed to face the person you’re talking to, GOJO.  he KEEPS his eyes on her even when more people come to join the conversation.  

now, we can all agree that geto, mei, and shoko are better at picking up social cues than gojo.  they probably knew the vibe of the conversation and decided to play along with gojo’s antics.  

chapter 65

WE were worried about you.

pay attention to the order of the characters that show up.  gojo makes his appearance first, then geto, followed by shoko.  based on utahime’s reaction to seeing shoko, it’s evident that these two share a close bond.  shouldn’t shoko be the one to arrive on the scene first?  she’s the closest to utahime and would therefore be more concerned about her condition, right?  i know shoko’s technique doesn’t really allow her to do anything other than treat the wounds of others, but if you heard your friend was missing, you would definitely rush to the scene.  

look at geto’s reaction when mei says, “you’re the one who’s picking on her, geto.  you don’t even know it.”  i think it’s mei who’s saying this because gojo calls geto “suguru”.  but anyway, mei is aware that they’re picking on her.  i don’t think she’s the type to legitimately bully someone for their strength.  her reaction to all of this is very playful and her “heh heh heh” is proof of that.  when geto shows up and swallows the curse before it gets to utahime, he says, “satoru.  it’s not nice to pick on the weak.”  by saying this, he pisses utahime off because he too, is joining in on gojo’s joke.  i believe he’s unaware that he’s making fun of utahime because his reaction is “gah!” with a sweatdrop.  he probably thought gojo was making fun of weak people in general.  

geto’s usually a gentleman seeing as it is canon that he is more popular with girls than gojo.  BUT WHO KNOWS...you gotta be a specific type of person to be best friends with gojo.  maybe he ain’t shit too...  okay, my point is that everyone is just playing along.  when shoko shows up, utahime is relieved to see her because shoko doesn’t tease her like this.  since utahime tells shoko to not become like those two, this implies that geto teases her as well (probably not as much as gojo).  we all know geto is really big on looking out for the weak so he probably wouldn’t have insulted her for real.  

verdict: utahime being weak is just a joke.  i’ve mentioned this so many times, sorry if it’s getting annoying and repetitive hehehehehe...

chapter 65

these three aren’t irresponsible.  geto and gojo are a troublesome duo for sure, but they’re dependable.  seems unlike them to forget something so simple and essential to pretty much every mission.   

chapter 65

here’s my headcanon.  they were hanging outside or in the car when their assistant manager got a call.  the assistant was informed that two days have elapsed since mei and utahime went on their mission (or last contacted someone).  

gojo: that’s weird.  mei’s with her so they should have finished exorcising the spirit sooner.

geto: you think something happened to them?  maybe it’s a strong special grade.

gojo: utahime probably dragged mei down with her.  poor mei-san~  

gojo gets up 

geto: where are you going?  

gojo: going to save utahime!  it’s fine i’ll put up a curtain!

manager: gojo wait!!!!!!!!!!!

geto sighs

shoko: that idiot’s always running off without us.

they pin the blame on gojo for saying that he’ll put up a curtain and leaving the assistant manager behind.  you know what this means?  he ran and the manager couldn’t catch up HEHE... why the rush, gojo?  were you actually concerned about her?  

tbh i don’t see gojo ever running to something unless it’s urgent.  the fact that he ran to save her says a lot.  

----

let me know if you have any thoughts or questions!  i forgot to add this but gojo had a more serious expression when he was explaining how they must’ve been trapped in a barrier that messes with time.  he then states, “we thought it was weird even though you’re here, mei.”  i know he was probably worried sick because if mei couldn’t be contacted then that means something must’ve happened to utahime too.  okay that’s it for now.  i’ll be bringing up this little detail i’ve noticed about utahime in the manga next :3

[whosscruffylooking]

Bad Bounty Chapter One: Reunion

Sergeant Hunter x Fem! Bounty Hunter

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Maybe mutual pining? Nothing too gross.

A/N: hunter was already attractive in season 7, but i managed to suppress my feelings for an ANIMATED character. alas, the bad batch has cursed me and i have finally accepted that he is my latest comfort character.

“You hold onto friends by keeping your heart a little softer than your head.”

“Clone Force 99. Welcome back, ” Commander Cody extends a hand to Hunter who firmly shakes it.

“Apologies for showing up late, we-”

“Got stuck handling some unexpected complications during a mission. I understand Sergeant Hunter,” Cody winks.

“What have you got for us this time Commander?” Crosshair mumbles, twisting his toothpick around between his teeth.

“This one is going to be a bit different boys. It’s not exactly…sanctioned by the GAR. Let’s call it a favor for an old friend of mine.”

Crosshair straightens up, suspicious of Cody’s statement, “We may bend the rules from time to time, but we don’t do favors.”

“This is an efficient mission that ultimately will aid us in the war, provide you some easy target practice…and helps me relieve an old debt I have to pay.”

“Is there a reason you can’t do this yourself?” Hunter questions.

“We’ve been called into battle. Besides, this separatist encampment is one we have failed to infiltrate time and time again,” Cody responds.

Hunter shifts, struggling to comprehend where this is going, “What does attacking a separatist encampment have to do with repaying a debt?”

“There is a Senator stationed on Drahgor III…a corrupt senator at that. One who has a significant bounty on his head. My dear old friend is a bounty hunter I met on Ord Mantell. Your job will be to take out the clankers and retrieve any data you can from the main database. Meanwhile, my bounty hunter friend will secure the bounty and you’ll go your separate ways.”

“Who is this Bounty Hunter?” Crosshair inquires.

“Glad you asked,” Cody exclaims, “Y/N!”

The clone troopers twirl around to see you approaching them. Your manner is conservative yet confident. One thing you have become an expert at is never striving for attention. Instead, your presence demands it.

You nod at the troopers, “Clone Force 99, it is a pleasure to be working with you.”

Surveying the team, your eyes first fall on Crosshair. His distrusting look reaffirms the defense you raised long before wandering onto the landing platform.

Gotta keep an eye on that one.

Next, you glance over to Wrecker. A massive lug of a man, but he has the noticeable demeanor of a gentle giant. Something about him reminds you of a plush toy you once owned as a child.

Tech catches your attention next. He is clearly the intuitive one. He will either be a pain to deal with, or a beneficial asset.

At last, your eyes meet Hunter’s. Such a tiny gesture of nothingness feels like you’ve just been thrust into a timeless world of something far more significant. You quickly dismiss your gaze, but soon find your eyes wandering back to him. His eyes are already on you.

Tech quickly picks up on your silent interaction and nudges Hunter to break him of his trance. Hunter quickly snaps out of it and clears his throat. He is dumbstruck by his response. His heart beats recklessly.

Taking note of his counterpart’s vitals, Tech is left unsettled by the quickening of Hunter’s heart rate. “Hunter, I need you to focus on your breathing. Your heart rate is abnormally high.”

Setting your sight once more on the rugged clone trooper, you catch the ever-changing hue of his cheek…the one that isn’t covered in dark ink. A hint of red paints his untouched skin.

He clears his throat, “Erm-thank you for alerting me Tech. I’ll be aboard the ship.”

Cody shrugs his shoulders at you, “I guess you’ll brief them on the ship. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you Cody, ” you clap him on the shoulder and follow the rogue crews lead onto their ship.

++++

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚊𝚢

“Where are we going to go? We need somewhere we can set up camp that isn’t easily tracked, ” Echo declares.

“There is one place I can think of, but I’m not sure that Hunter will be a fan of the location, ” Tech announces apprehensively.

Hunter lets out a groan and tightens his fist.

Wrecker laughs, “Hunter doesn’t like this idea! Which means I like it even more!”

Glaring at Wrecker, Hunter abruptly stands and stomps off into the cockpit.

“Where is it?” Echo inquires. He leans in, intrigued by the atmosphere that has suddenly befallen the Marauder.

“Let’s just say…we’d have to get help from an old friend.”

“Ha! An old friend!?” Wrecker blurts out, “Try an old fla-”

“That’s enough, ” Hunter commands, having regained his composure, “We will attempt to make contact this evening and if we have no response by the morning, we will seek out other options.”

++++

All night Hunter stayed up, much to the dismay of his crewmates, awaiting an incoming communication. His mind told him that it would never come through; his heart made him believe…or at least hope otherwise.

He stretches his arms into the air, releasing a hardy yawn. Tech enters the cockpit, “Anything?”

“Nothing, ” Hunter responds with a hint of despair clouding his words.

Just then, a muffled echo transmits through the comms unit. Hunter nearly falls out of the captain’s chair as he scrambles to the commlink.

“This is Phoenix 178095 trying to contact Clone Force 99. I repeat, this is Phoenix 1780-“

“Copy Phoenix 178095, this is Clone Force 99,” Hunter announces almost frantically.

The only response is silence…until, “Hunter? Hunter, is that you?”

The rugged clones grasp on the comlink tightens, and he touches it to his forehead. His eyes are locked shut, his breath unsteady.

“Yes. It’s me.”

You hear his guttural voice and suddenly, your memories which you’ve strived to suppress come flooding back, knocking the wind out of you.

Attempting to swallow the lump that insists on crowding your throat, you press down the transmitter button, but fail to express your thoughts.

“What?” A menacing voice echoes out, “Lothcat got your tongue?”

You chuckle, pressing the comlink to your forehead, “well if it isn’t my favorite piston head.” Piston head, a nickname you have used to refer to Crosshair for as long as you can remember. You find it fitting because term is in reference to a droid, similar to the droid-like manner in which Crosshair carries himself.

“So!” Shouts a third, brooding and somewhat childish voice, “Are we bunking with you or what?”

“Yes Wrecker, you are more than welcome to stay here.”

“Thank you, ” Hunter softly says into the comm’s mic. His voice still brings warmth to your soul, although the communicator slightly alters it.

“Get here safely.”

“Always do.”

“I know, ” you affirm and disconnect the commlink.

Looking around at the empty room, which mere seconds ago was filled with the sound of your closest friends’ voices, you feel once again plagued by loneliness.

It has been nearly three years since you last spoke to them. Choosing to once again shove your feelings down deep inside you, rather than let the pain consume you, you prepare for their arrival.

++++

“Maybe one day we will meet again, when all of this is over. Perhaps then we will have the freedom to say all that we have long held in, ” you exhaust yourself in the effort to fight back the words that are bottled up inside of you.

A void and emotionless, expression spans across his face as he finally acknowledges the weight of the moment. A single tear threatens to spill over, and he clenches his fist to fight back the giant hole that is forming in his heart.

“Y/N, ” he utters, “I-”

“Hunter! It’s time for us to go, ” Tech calls out.

++++

Your entire body jerks to a standstill when you hear the hum of their ship landing.

Hunter feels a sudden sickening sensation throughout his body.

“Deep breaths, brother. You don’t want your little reunion to be overruled by sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, ” Crosshair teases.

Hunter groans, “We are here for a short period of time until we can safely get back to Kamino. Until then, this is strictly business as usual.”

“Whatever you say Hunter,” he flicks his toothpick into the garbage receptacle with perfect aim.

The leader of the clone force, known for being courageous, daring, and valiant has abruptly shifted to a timid and uncertain man. But that’s just it. He felt like a man. A feeling only familiar when around you. Every other day of the rotation, he is merely a defective clone—a misfit who despite his enhanced abilities, is thrown into combat, aware of the fact that he is completely dispensable. Because he is merely one of hundreds of thousands of others just like him, he feels like he is just another carbon copy dispersed off of a factory line. Yet, around you, he never felt that way.

He watches out the cockpit window and sees you emerge from your homestead. His heart somersaults.

“Shall we disembark Hunter?” Tech asks.

He nods.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you hardly notice the troopers exiting their ship. It isn’t until Wrecker has scooped you up into his arms that you are jostled back to reality.

“Wreck!” You cry out in excitement as you wrap your arms around him.

Crosshair lends you a wink that you flirtatiously mirror. It’s always fun seeing him fight back a cheeky grin.

Tech is clearly holding back, so you eagerly close the distance between you two and envelope him in your arms. Initially, he hesitates but rapidly works up the bravery to reciprocate.

Chuckling at his hold on you, you tease, “I don’t know who gives the stronger hugs! You, or Wrecker.” He quickly releases you and straightens his glasses.

“Who’s this?” You motion towards the pale, almost sickly-looking clone. In fact, he looks more like a machine than a clone.

“I’m Echo, ” he extends his hand to you. Accepting it, you introduce yourself in return.

Hunter appears from behind the group. Suddenly, you lose the ability to think straight, let alone speak. His eyes meet yours and you share a somber smile. Each taking a step toward each other, you close the distance between you. Unable to resist any longer, you throw your arms around him, drawing him tightly to you.

For a moment, he stands frozen. Hunter has imagined the feeling of taking you into his arms again more than he would like to admit. At last, he pushes his thoughts aside and encircles your waist with his strong embrace.

You can feel his heartbeat slowly accelerate; at least your heart isn’t the only one threatening to beat out of your chest. You seemingly melt into each other. His hands softly tracing circles on your lower back.

Knowing that this moment cannot last as long as you’d both like, you hesitantly pull away from him. His hands grip at your hips as if he is begging you to not stray from his grasp. Your heart yearns to pull him back into your embrace and to stay there with him forever.

Becoming aware of the world around you once again, you feel your face flush into a crimson red.

“Why are they just standing there like that?” Wrecker leans down to whisper to Tech.

“Sometimes, the most important messages do not need to be said with words,” he responds softly.

[stillness-in-green]

No, Re-Destro Is Not Destro’s Literal Son

and

Yes, I Will Die On This Hill

I have a number of small, persistent quibbles with some of the widespread misapprehensions I see included in BNHA fanfic, quoted as fact in meta posts, even cited on the wiki. Quirk cancellation restraints, what the 20% quirklessness data point means in practice, when Kurogiri comes into existence relative to the time of the Shimura Family Massacre, things like that. My biggest one, though, is as the title suggests: the idea that Yotsubashi Rikiya is Yotsubashi Chikara’s son.

I don’t entirely know where this confusion comes from. As far as I can tell, the early scanlations didn’t get it wrong—one rendered the line in Chapter 218 about Destro having a child he didn’t know about as being children, plural, but otherwise, they were all accurate enough. It seems people just assumed that the child mentioned in 218 must be Re-Destro, who was, after all, right there on the panel. Even though the scanlations never said it, even though the official translation never said it, even though ample evidence in the manga disproves it, the idea still got around that Rikiya is Chikara’s son.

I have and will maintain that this is obviously wrong if you stop to think about it for even a moment, but unfortunately, most people don’t. The error can be found on less well-tended parts of the fandom wiki[1]; it’s in tumblr meta posts about the villains; it’s in fanfic.

And now, god help me, it is on the official anime website, too.

“Stillness-in-green, maybe you should consider that you might just be wro—”

I will face BONES and walk backwards into hell.

But if you want, you can come with me, and I’ll explain on the way. Hit the jump.

Dialogue + Narration

There are two places where the relationship between Chikara and Rikiya is explicitly addressed—the lead-in to the dinner scene in Chapter 218 and the fight between Clone!Shigaraki and RD in Chapter 232. If you include the Ultra Analysis databook, the number goes up to four: once each in Re-Destro and Destro Classic’s character blurbs.

Let’s take a look at each of those places, shall we?

The relevant Japanese text here is in the first narration box: 子ども, kodomo.

Kodomo is not gendered. It literally just means child. The key kanji is 子, ko. Like most kanji, it has a lot of potential readings, and you can add other kanji to it to modify it. Add 息 and you get musuko, son. Pronounce 子 as shi instead of ko, and you get a term that is frequently, though not exclusively, used to refer to boys. Add 女 to that reading and you get joshi, woman/girl. 子 is in a lot of words, many of them gendered! Used for kodomo as Hori does here, though, it does nothing to indicate a gender one way or the other.

Also too, it does nothing to indicate that Rikiya is the child in question; it simply states that there was such a child, somewhere in the world. Now, the natural assumption for anyone who knows how the graphic novel medium works and who understands basic literary analysis would be that the significant character we just met is, in fact, the child in question—except that everything else we learn about Destro and the original Meta Liberation Army here makes it entirely impossible.

I’ll do a full breakdown on why that is in the next section. In the meantime, here’s the next reference:

Here, we’re looking at the phrase the Viz translation renders as, “His blood runs through these veins.” The literal Japanese there is, Desutoro no matsuei chi o tsugu mono! In a literal translation, chi o tsugu mono means, “one who inherits the blood,” or, more loosely, “blood successor.” It’s matsuei—末裔—that’s the key word here.

Japanese has several words to express the concept of “descendant.” Matsuei is one word; the data book uses shison. So what’s the difference? Well, I’ll talk about shison in a moment, but I had an inkling of it just from looking at the kanji in matsuei—“end” and “descendant” respectively, leaving me with an impression of something like a final descendant or the terminus of the bloodline. Further research confirmed it: shison can refer to any lineal blood tie, but matsuei refers to a bloodline’s final inheritor, the person at the end of a long line of many, or even countless, generations. It’s the difference between being able to point to a grandparent and the kind of painstaking genealogical research that lets you[2] point to a famous royal from eight hundred years ago—matsuei is a word that very much assumes the existence of those countless generations.

So not only does Rikiya’s line there not imply that he’s Chikara’s son, but his specific word choice also tells us that he cannot be Chikara’s son. That’s, uh. Pretty conclusive, I would say.

Lastly, though, there’s also the data book. This is, perhaps, the actual closest you’re going to get to a manga equivalent of those character blurbs on the anime website, at least until such time as Hori deigns to give the MLA types character profile pages. (I live ever in hope.)

There are two relevant bits of text, one in Re-Destro’s entry, and the other in Destro Classic’s. The first describes how Re-Destro organizes the MLA as Desutoro no chi o tsugu mono: the same phrase he uses for himself in the manga, minus the matsuei. @codenamesazanka (the one who told me about the databook references among other citations, bless) rendered it as “Destro’s blood successor”; I have also seen it given as “the successor of Destro’s bloodline.” Note again, the lack of reference to a father/son bond.

Chikara’s entry uses that other descendant word I mentioned before, 子孫, shison. Notice that the term uses that ko kanji from kodomo before? As it does in joshi, 子 here reads shi. The other kanji, 孫, means grandchild. Thus, literally, grandchild-child—or, in the vernacular, simply descendant.

And then we have the anime website.

So, for comparison’s sake, the anime website uses 息子—the same combination of kanji that I said earlier gives you musuko, son. Heck, it even uses 父, chichi, for Destro—father. It’s as explicit as it’s possible to be, and I just don’t know why or how the anime website could fuck that up so bad when absolutely nothing in the manga describes the two Yotsubashis that way, and, indeed, one specific word choice actually rules out the possibility.

So, that’s all the manga says directly. It’s not the only evidence there is, though. In fact, the next piece makes it even more clear how colossally and impossibly wrong a father/son connection for Destro and his modern successor is.

Timeline

The long and short of this section is, “Since Harima Oji was Sako Atsuhiro’s great-great-grandfather, there is no possible way that Destro—who pre-dated Harima—can be Re-Destro’s father.” If you read that sentence and nodded your complete understanding and agreement, feel free to skip ahead to the last section. If you’d like the full explanation it takes to reach that sentence’s conclusion, though, read on.

So, aside from the word matsuei, the timeline is the most telling piece of evidence to my eye. I address it secondly rather than firstly because it’s less direct than the explicit narration; it relies on drawing conclusions based on things we’ve been told elsewhere rather than on the immediately relevant text. Oh, Mr. Compress’s relationship to Harima is explicit enough, but on what am I basing my claim that Destro predates him?

Regarding that, there’s no explicit year relative to My Hero Academia’s current events given for when Destro and the original Meta Liberation Army were active; the same is true for Harima Oji’s escapades. However, we are given some broad-strokes information, relative not to current events, but rather to the history of heroism as a legal institution in Japan.

We know that there was a widespread, lengthy period of chaos following the rise of quirks—called meta-abilities in those early years. At some point, however, people began to search for a way for meta-humans to live in peace with non-metas. The compromise that was reached was the foundation of professional heroism in Japan—while the use of meta-abilities would be legal in private settings, it was only by becoming licensed by the state as “heroes” that people could use their quirks in public.[3]

The legislation curtailing the use of meta-abilities—and the appropriation of a dead woman’s language to popularize a law establishing exactly the opposite of what she used that language to call for—is what catalyzed the rise of the original MLA. Thus, we can position Destro as being alive and active around the same time that heroism as a legal institution was being formed. Since we further know that he committed suicide in prison, we can assume that his child was conceived at some point prior to his capture. Ergo, Destro’s child, were they alive today, would be as old as Japanese professional heroism itself.

Next, consider Harima Oji, the Peerless Thief, a criminal who targeted the riches of “sham heroes.” We’re specifically told that he was active in the days in which the current system was settling into place—e.g. he only became active once the Hero System was established enough to have produced corrupt heroes. We’re told he preached reformation—he wasn’t just some pre-existing criminal who saw a shiny new target in heroes; he had specific grievances which he wanted addressed by the system, and which the system was not addressing.

The earliest Harima could possibly be active, then, is concurrent with Destro—Harima fighting against the corrupt people who had found their way into the new heroic institution, and Destro fighting against using the institution of heroism to oppress non-heroes. What I think is more likely, though, is that Harima came after Destro—Harima needed to have had time to realize what kinds of fakes had been drawn to this shiny new career path, maybe even to spend some time trying to change things the legal way.

I don’t suspect they were separated by very long—I would imagine Destro was easily within Harima’s living memory, and might well have influenced why he chose the path of protest that he did—but I do think they were separate.

Moving forward, then, Mr. Compress is four generations distant from his famous ancestor. Thus, even if you assume that Harima is of the same generation as Chikara, that’s what you’re looking at for Chikara’s child: someone who, were they alive today, would be old enough to be the great-grandparent of a thirty-two-year-old man.

Re-Destro’s probably a few years older than Mr. C, sure,[4] but that man doesn’t have Ujiko’s slow-aging quirk. Unless you want to start pulling theories about cryogenic stasis the story for some reason never saw fit to mention out of thin air, Re-Destro is in no way old enough to fit the bill.

This is backed up by one other piece of the timeline as well, and one more place we can look at language:

The small child at the center of the image is Rikiya, so young that he’s in schoolboy shorts for a meeting otherwise so formal that he’s been made to wear a tie. He’s, what, six to nine here, tops? And the adults speaking to him say that they’ve been in hiding for generations—代々, daidai, the kanji for generation followed by a kanji that just means, “See that kanji written right before me? Yeah, just read that one again.”

The original MLA was active for only a handful of years, and, per Chapter 218, they didn’t dissolve until Destro was captured. Thus, we can assume they have been in hiding since then, but not before then. With that in mind, this is another line that renders a father/son relationship impossible.

Remember, Chikara already had a child in the world circa his capture. If Rikiya were Chikara’s son, then Destro’s capture and his army’s subsequent dissolution could not have happened any farther back than nine months plus however old Rikiya was in this exact moment of his youth. Rikiya, who we see here as a child of less than ten.

Ten years in hiding doesn’t make one generation; it damn sure doesn’t make multiple ones.

Now, you could make theories about cryogenic statis that would explain this ludicrous discrepancy, sure. You could also theorize about e.g. artificial insemination,[5] or time stop quirks, or any number of other possibilities in the vast panoply the HeroAca world offers. The point is, though, that you don’t need to. There was, in the manga, no discrepancy that needed to be explained. It is only fanon misinterpretation and a glaring disinterest in the series’ villains from official sources that have presented this issue.

I’m praying that it’s all just a misunderstanding on the part of whoever maintains the website, and that the anime itself will render the relevant bits of dialogue correctly. Given the extreme cuts and alterations that My Villain Academia has been subjected to thus far, though, I’m sure you can appreciate my being concerned.

…So that’s the meat of it. The idea that Rikiya is Chikara’s son is wrong simply on the basis of what’s said in the text, and it’s doubly wrong on the basis of the timeline. There is, though, one other thing I think points towards Re-Destro being exactly the descendant he says he is, not a son playing down the connection out of humility or something. This one is a lot more headcanon-y, though, so I saved it for last.

MLA Social Dynamics

It’s quite simple. We have, in the MLA, a group of people that venerates Destro’s bloodline to an obviously unhealthy degree, putting up portraits of him wherever they can get away with it, tagging his successor with a “Re-” as if to invoke reincarnation or miraculous return, entirely willing to throw their lives away for what they think was his cause, and others’ lives if those others say anything too scathing about the words Destro wrote, quite as if they treat Destro’s memoir as some sort of holy writ.

They venerate Destro that much, and you’re trying to tell me that they wouldn’t just call a spade a spade and acknowledge RD as the son of their great leader? Come on.

Since long before I turned up the matsuei factoid in researching this piece, since long before Mr. Compress gave us such a helpful generational comparison, I’ve held the opinion that, given a group that holds their leaders in such high esteem, with such particular regard for bloodline, the only reason Rikiya does just call himself a descendant, rather than citing the specific term for what he is, is that the specific term is distant enough that it actually does sound more impressive to just say “descendant,” rather than something like, “great-great-great-grandson.” That kind of thing just begs the question, “What took you guys so long?” or, “You and how many other people, buddy?”

Mr. Compress may have the panache to carry off a line like that, but Rikiya’s a different story. If he had something so amazing up his sleeve as, “I am the son of the great Destro,” I have to think he’d just say it proudly, not fall back on the impressionistic vaguery of something like chi o tsugu mono. Even if I had no other evidence to work with, I’d think the same—all the evidence you need is right there in the character writing of who Rikiya and the MLA are and how they talk about the man whose dreams Re-Destro was raised to carry.

A closing note: I will allow that Rikiya is being overdramatic when he uses matsuei and its connotation of countless generations. There are a few other things we can use to trace the history of heroism—Ujiko’s age, and the 18-years-or-less periods that One For All was held by its pre-All Might bearers—and running those numbers leads me to believe that it is, in fact, entirely possible to count the number of generations between Rikiya and Chikara, and the number, while higher than one, is probably not all that high. Certainly matsuei is being more dramatic about it than is entirely warranted, hence the poetic flourish of the official translation’s, “His blood runs through these veins!” The theatricality only makes me fonder of him, however.

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

FOOTNOTES

[1] It was changed and reverted on Re-Destro’s page at least twice before it finally stuck in January of this year. Chikara’s page took until July to be corrected, and it’s still wrong on various other subpages.

[2] Or your kids, if you have those. Only the last generation in the bloodline is the matsuei, but that’s a moving goalpost as long as the bloodline is still propagating.

[3] This summary of events combines what we know from both My Hero Academia proper and the Vigilantes spin-off, which I recommend to anyone who’s at all interested in finer-grained worldbuilding on Hero Society Japan than the main series makes time for.

[4] I personally headcanon him as 42.

[5] To which point I would refer back to the word kodomo, and note that that word choice indicates that Destro had a child in the world. Not a sperm sample kept in a freezer somewhere, waiting for the right would-be mother: an actual child. Some quick research on my part says that the farthest that term stretches is in using it to refer to yet-unborn children, fetuses still in the womb. Seeing as Japan doesn’t even allow inmates conjugal visits in real life, much less in a setting where villains are so dehumanized that Tartarus is an acceptable punishment for them, the line about Destro “having a child out in the world” takes us right back to a date of conception no later than Destro’s final night of freedom.

[imagine-this-fandom]

The Rescue: BNHA x Fem! Reader- Red Pitbull

the rescue intro: here

Inko led you through the store, only pausing to put Izuku back into his habitat. You followed her through the aisles of the shop, hearing the barking from the next room growing louder as you neared the door.

Inside was a wide variety of dogs. The shop was deceptively big considering its unassuming exterior. The Large room was a playroom of sorts. Almost a greeting room so people could meet the dogs in a fun and comfortable environment.

Your eyes tracked the movements of the dogs closest to you, searching for your potential new friend. There was a wide variety of dogs from young to old. Each had their own fun personality and you mused that you'd be happy taking any one of the furballs home. That is... Until you saw Enji.

You had never really been afraid of dogs, but this one... He was intimidating.

Pitbulls never really intimidated you. There were too many good ones out there for their reputation to bother you. This one however was scary looking. You didn't want to judge him right away, but he was every scary pitbull stereotype rolled into one. Rusty red fur covered the dog in patterns reminiscent of flames. White patches reinforced the flame look, snaking up his chest and up his paws like little fire boots. What caught your eyes the most was his eyes. Teal was not a color you had ever seen on a dog before, and on him, they were piercing, like the hottest center of a flame. There was an intelligence there that made you wary. Smart dogs were a handful and from the way he was looking at you and Inko, it seemed he had already made up his mind on you. His expression was pinched into as close to a scowl as his facial patterns would allow, white splotches on the ridges of his head forming eyebrows that gave the illusion of a glare.

You hoped against it, but as soon as you saw him, you knew he was the animal for you. Inko's leading grip on your wrist confirmed your suspicion, only loosening once you both stood before the muscular dog.

"(y/n), It's my pleasure to introduce you to Enji. Enji, this is (y/n). She's agreed to talk care of one of our residents here."

You watched the exchange, noting how his eyes fixed on her, his scowl deepening as she spoke. You couldn't help the giggle that slipped free, his expression was just so serious for a dog!

He whipped his head around to look at you, that ridiculous scowl still in place. He was trying his best to look intimidating and powerful, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he wasn't human. Had he been as he was before the quirk cursed him, Enji Todoroki would have been a fierce sight to behold. But now he simply looked like a pouting child throwing a tantrum, the scowl not translating right over the switch of species. His usual cold and intimidating demeanor were overshadowed by the fact that he was now just a little under two feet tall.

He watched you try to stifle your laughter, your form shaking with the effort as his expression got more and more exasperated. This was who he was expected to put up with for the rest of his time in this form? As the former number two hero, he was less than impressed. He gave a disgruntled bark, looking at Inko to ask if she was serious, but the look she gave him halted him in his tracks.

Endeavor had dealt with many villains over his hero career, but few held the kind of authority as a mother figure. She radiated sternness and he quickly understood that in this case, her word was law. She left the decision in your hands rather than his paws.

When he looked back at you, you had composed yourself again, a wide grin in the place of the wary expression you had carried upon seeing him for the first time.

"You really believe he's the one for me, Inko?" You tilted your head, examing the rather put-out-looking dog, surprising yourself with the hope that Inko would say yes. Sure he was intimidating, but that silly scowl made you smile. And pit bulls were hard to place, so it was a toss-up if he would ever get a chance like this again. You resonated with that more than you'd like to admit. Maybe it was your savior complex, but if you could help him, you wanted to. He deserved a chance.

The little fluttering hope in your chest flared happily when Inko nodded.

"I think you two will be good for each other. I trust you with him and think it's for the best."

with these words from Inko, Enji's scowl fell with a resigned huff. This would be a definite change, one he wasn't likely to enjoy. However, you were excited, and perhaps he could work with that.

You smiled softly and reached down to ruffle his ears. He was surprised by the touch but more so by the fact that it was a pleasant sensation. He quickly pulled out of your grip to grumpily sit with his back to you. He wasn't going to let you win him over so easily. He was originally the number two hero after all! His resolve was stronger than that, surely, he thought to himself.

He watched you move away to help Inko gather supplies, eyes following your every movement. You had seemed frightened at first, so he couldn't wrap his head around why you had accepted Inko's proposal. You were baffling to him, and he was determined to untangle the puzzle that was you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enji was confusing. He was so grumpy and far too much of a snob for a dog. You figured he was a rescue at this point. He refused to eat regular dog food, refused to sleep anywhere but a proper bed, and was intent on getting his way at all times. It was exhausting. There was a point when you almost returned him the first week, but it was also the point where you realized you didn't want him to go.

You had been walking him when a criminal attack happened just across the street. You watched in mute horror as a villain used their quirk to ransack a storefront, likely after the money in the register. You quickly turned your back on the sound of breaking glass only after affirming that someone was calling authorities. This was no place for a civilian to interfere. Enji, did not think the same way. He was tugging ferociously against the walking harness.

"Enji! We need to go, stop this!"

You tried to reign him in, but he just pulled all the harder, the woven material of the leash digging into your hands as your white knuckle grip was tested against the dog. It was a miracle he didn't pull you off your feet.

You fought against his weight to pull him away from the scene all while he barked and fought against you. Finally, you were able to pull him around a corner and away from the violence. Enji was not pleased to say the least.

How dare she, he thought, glaring at you, with as much anger as he could muster. Who were you to keep him from hero work? He growled lowly in his throat at you. He knew that if he were in his human form, his flames would be flickering dangerously.

"Now you stop that right now. We are going home, Enji. Now." You glared back, annoyed and if you were honest, a bit shaken by the event.

He turned around as if to go back, but was stopped by a sharp tug on the lead.

"No, bad dog. Heel. We are going home. You need to listen to me."

You pressed your lips into a firm line, doing your best to be as authoritative as you could, hoping he would see this as a fight not worth having. Oh, how wrong you were. With each insistent tug on the leash, he grew more irritated. It all culminated in one moment where his temper got the best of him. He wasn't used to being ordered around and he lashed out in the only way he could in this form. He bit your hand, aiming to get you to drop the leash so he could go without you.

You yelped sharply in pain, pulling the limb to your chest protectively, the leash forgotten on the ground. Your eyes held him in place, eyes watery with unshed tears as you looked at him in hurt disbelief. He hadn't bitten hard enough to break skin, but that did not mean you were unscathed. Angry red welts were beginning to form where his teeth had dug and scraped.

Enji felt guilt forming in the pit of his stomach, something he was not used to. The look of betrayal you were giving him made him feel off-kilter. However, he wasn't going to dwell on it

You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay before grabbing the leash off the ground with your good hand, keeping your eyes on him the whole time, watching for any sign he would attack again. Your movements were slow, cautious, and untrusting. backing up, you held the leash so the most distance was between you.

"Enji, we are going home. Now." You tried to keep your voice stern, but you winced as you heard the small warble to it from pain. He locked his limbs as the leash went taut once more. Before you could react, he grabbed the leash in his teeth and yanked it out of your hands, and raced back towards the action.

You stumbled after him, his name dying on your tongue as he stopped right in front of the villain, powerful jaws locking around the criminal's leg. It's like the scene was in slow motion for you as Enji faced the villain alone.

He dug his teeth in, determined to defeat the criminal despite his lack of quirk or usual form. His arrogance knew no bounds, but as far as he was concerned, he was just doing his job. Oh, how out of his depth he was.

The villain in question was named deathstalker. Upon one glance it would be easy to guess his quirk. Extending from his back, a tan appendage loomed above him, curled to a dangerous spike. Venom tipped and massive, the scorpion tail was a sight to behold. And right now... it was poised to strike at your dog.

Before you even knew what you were doing, your feet were tearing across the pavement. Your lungs burned with each panicked breath you sucked in, watching as the villain flung Enji away with an angry roar. You changed course to intercept him, flinging yourself over the dazed mutt just as the point of the tail struck, stabbing into your shoulder with a sickening speed.

Deathstalker had the nerve to laugh then, watching as you skidded sideways on the street, shoulder bloody and arms scrapped from your landing, but dog safely clutched to your chest.

"What are you, some kind of idiot?"

Stalking forward, he nudged your shoulder with his foot, eliciting a cry of pain as your shoulder burned.

"Hope you're proud darling, you just died for an exceptionally stupid dog."

He sneered, watching as Enji tried to wiggle free and get at him.

"Looks like he still has a death wish. What do you say, dear, shall I end his life too so he can join his dear old master? After all, he seemed pretty determined in the first place. All you did was buy him time to watch you suffer too."

He smirked and crouched next to you, his golden irises standing out against black sclera as they scanned the wound on your shoulder and shredded sleeves.

"You know sweetheart, he was going to die anyway. The stupid mutt bit me. And here I was having such a good day."

You fought the dizziness as the venom worked its way through your body, the wound radiating uncomfortable heat. You managed to look him right in those unnerving eyes, making eye contact before you took a deep breath. He might have been preparing for you to beg or plead for your life, ask for some reassurance that you weren't going to die. Instead, you inhaled before spitting in his face, eyes narrowed in anger.

Before the Deathstalker could respond, he was suspended in a forcefield as heroes dropped onto the scene. He beat angrily against his new prison as the heroes gathered around and began helping civilians.

You finally released your death grip on Enji, all the adrenaline draining out of you as the villain was moved away. You closed your eyes, not having the energy to do much but lay there.

Enji was instantly in your face as soon as he was free, examining you as best he could as he swore under his breath. All you heard was grumbling and growling from him as you lazily offered him your hand.

"I'm okay, boy. It's okay now..." Your head was fuzzy, but you weren't too concerned about that.

Enji growled at your words, knowing that Deathstalker would not have lied about the deadliness of his quirk. You needed medical attention now! He pressed himself against your side and barked, alerting the heroes to your position. He was furious, both with you and with himself, but mostly at the villain. But the anger boiling up would have to wait. He growled lowly as one of the heroes tried to shoo him away, determined to stay by your side as you were tended to. He had already failed once today, he wanted to be sure you were cared for now. Each moment you weren't seen to was one more moment that you were in danger. A danger that you had been in because of him.

You were put on a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance, Enji right by your side. He didn't usually stay with civilians after a fight, but with you, he didn't want to let you out of his sight. You were a stupid girl, charging in after him. But you had saved his life. And that rattled him.

~~~~~

You groaned as you awoke, hands going to scrub at your eyes after you were blinded by the white of the hospital room. As you sat and got your bearings, the events of before rushed back to you. The villain, your shoulder, and...

"Enji!"

Your eyes widened and you frantically tried to get out of bed, the heart rate monitor going wild behind you. Luckily, a bark stopped you in your tracks. Enji had been resting to the side of your bed, not having left your side if he could help it.

Upon seeing your concern, he jumped up against the bed, front paws resting on the mattress as he scanned you to see if you were truly recovered.

Once you saw the familiar red furry head, you relaxed, a wide smile spreading across your face.

"Hey buddy, you doing okay?"

He snorted. This was coming from the girl in the hospital bed? He was fine. A little bruised from the landing, but no worse for the wear.

"You're alright? Good. Never do that again. I have half a mind to take you back to Inko for that stunt." You frowned at him for a moment before your face softened into fondness. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, thumb gently stroking the side of his head.

"You really scared me, you know? I was so worried I'd lose you."

He let himself lean into your touch, telling himself it was for your comfort, and not because he enjoyed the sensation. He watched your expression carefully, surprised by the concern and relief he found there. You truly did not regret throwing yourself into danger for him. For getting hurt for him.

"That was a stupid thing for you to do too," he said, the voice escaping him a soft bark and whine instead of the words he wished to convey.

"I'm okay Enji, really," You smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss on his head. "My quirk protected me for the most part. Someone else's quirk can't kill me."

He tilted his head to the side, confused by your statement. The injury had seemed pretty serious to him.

"My quirk neutralizes anything deadly that comes in contact with me. Sharp objects? Those can hurt me. But the venom probably became relatively harmless after he got me. It made me dizzy and uncomfortable, but it wouldn't kill me." You sighed, scrunching your face in displeasure when you remembered the side effects of the venom.

"I'm just glad I was able to keep you safe until heroes got there."

You leaned forward and whispered to him in a conspiratorial voice.

"Ready to get out of here? Because there's no way I'm gonna stick around while doctors lecture me about being careless and compliment my stupid quirk."

You grinned as you pulled back and carefully climbed out of bed, ensuring that you weren't pulling on your IV before petting his head and leading him for the door.

~~~~

It had been a few days since the incident, and Enji was starting to worry you. He was originally very pushy and confident. Determined to get his way. Now though, he was quiet and contemplative around you, no longer pushing for his way all the time. You'd never entertained the thought before, but now desperate times called for desperate measures. You were having an intervention for your dog.

That day, you got home from work, the usual tiredness pushed away by determination. Enji could see the difference and was decidedly curious. What had gotten you so worked up? It can't have been any villains as you seemed no worse for the wear. He mused that perhaps you were finally going to get another job. The one you were working at was clearly taking advantage of your good nature and hard-working spirit. Or perhaps the neighbor had finally asked you out. He snorted at the thought, amused but also a bit annoyed. His thoughts were cut short when you dropped into a sitting position right in front of him.

"Enji, you're a smart boy. I want you to listen to me."

You focused on him intently, watching as he squared his shoulders and focused on you, face all hard lines and serious fire in his eyes.

"You've been different. Ever since the villain attack, you've been treating me like glass. You're quiet, accommodating. It's weird. "

You frowned slightly.

"I want my old Enji back. You were a pain, but you were my pain. You were arrogant, sure of yourself. "

He eyed you carefully, admitting to himself that he had grown cautious around you since the attack. He knew that quirks couldn't cause lasting damage, but he wasn't going to throw your sacrifice back in your face. He respected you now. Still, you were asking for friendship, not reverence.

He was used to power being the only way to get things. Yet here you were asking for something else from him. You didn't want him to submit to you, but rather be himself as your companion. A confusing proposition, but... not one he was opposed to. He had already seen how selfless and strong you were. Perhaps he could enjoy learning more about you without the formalities he was used to.

"Hey, space cadet. Did you hear me?" You narrowed your eyes at Enji as he focused back from his thoughts. "Man, what am I doing?" You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your palms, "I must be crazy at this point."

You brought the appendages down as you heard an amused huff escape from Enji.

"Are you laughing at me now?"

You could have sworn he smirked as he barked an affirmative.

"is that so, furball?" You grinned and lunged forward, raking your fingers through his fur.

The sensation startled him and he jumped away. Oh, so that's how you wanted to play... He could oblige.

Your eyes widened as he turned back and came at you. You quickly curled up to protect yourself, squeaking as his cold nose came in contact with your side. He growled playfully and pawed at you, trying to get past your defenses.

You giggled, squirming as you tried to evade him.

"Wait, stop!"

He grinned. "You started this! Don't make this easy for me now."

You launched a sneak attack, curling your body around his head, laughing as you wrestled him to the ground and attacked him with tickles.

"I got ya! I Win!"

He managed to wriggle free eventually and lay beside you, panting, but content.

"Fine, fine, you win. Little ember. And I'll remember your words. No need to treat you carefully from now on." He rested his head on his paws as you lay beside him, face flushed from laughter as you caught your breath.

Who knew Enji had a playful side to him. Perhaps Inko had been right. You were good for each other.

Now you had your pushy bad-tempered pit bull back, and you were going to enjoy it.

~~~~

Enji proved to be a bit of a jerk, but you had softened him up. He Was constantly pushing your buttons. He was in your space constantly, making sure you knew his opinions on everything. But you fought back. He knew better than to mess with you and knew you wouldn't take his bad behavior. You were determined not to let his bad behavior continue. You simply left the room if he lost his temper, and you didn't tolerate resorting to violence. He learned quickly if he wanted to get anywhere with you, he had to be calm.

He began to look forward to your company, the bickering one-sided on your end, but for him, it was exciting. You refused to back down from him and he realized he wouldn't have it any other way. Still, he did enjoy antagonizing you.

"Enji, move your fluffy butt! I have to go to work!" You struggled uselessly against him as he pinned you to the couch with his bulk. His response to your plea was to grumble and relax even further.

"You big galoot, I have to go make money, or would you rather I not feed you?" He huffed and stretched before leisurely climbing off the couch. You rolled your eyes and ruffled his ears and hopped up, brushing red fur off your uniform.

Despite the playful threat, the money issue was worrying you. Enji was a big dog, and you only wanted the best for him. That meant that he had plenty of toys, good quality food, and all the love and affection you could spare. However, money was starting to run tight. You had started to work extra hours as the weather started to get colder.

You bid Enji farewell and left for work, determined to keep up the cheerful appearance.

Enji was left to his own devices while you left. Something he was growing less and less content with. It was fun messing with you, and you didn't take any of his stubbornness. He patrolled the house, working through a training regimen he had perfected for this form. He missed his human form, but being with you made it easier. He was far too intimidating as a human. As a dog, you joked with him, teased him, coddled him, and weren't afraid to let him know when he messed up. He still cringed to think of those first weeks where he had acted like he was still the number two hero. A hero doesn't hurt innocent people, as you had shown him.

He paused by the window, noting the snowflakes coming down from the sky. It was times like these, he remembered Rei. He had been focused on the power he could gain from a union with her when he had married her. She had given him twins, but he knew that she would have moved on by now. He didn't blame her in the slightest. Still, he knew that if he ever came back to her, he'd be a different man. But he knew that he couldn't love her, not truly. The marriage was one of greed, and she would always resent him for that, and he wouldn't be able to blame her. Still, he regretted not being able to offer her his apologies in person.

Watching the snowflakes, he remembered with sharp discomfort that he had been in this form for almost a year now. How the media explained his absence was a mystery and he had tried not to focus on what he had lost. He shook himself out of his thoughts and continued his routine, making sure the apartment was in order before taking the latch of the window with his teeth and pulling it open.

He eased out the window with practiced ease and began a patrol of the area. While he admitted he couldn't be much help in this form, he still couldn't completely give up his hero work. Keeping the apartment complex safe wasn't much, but he had someone to protect here. He had memorized your schedule and noticed that you had been getting out later, so he knew he'd be able to make another circuit before he returned to greet you for the evening.

He stayed out for a couple of hours but was forced to return early as the weather worsened. The gently floating snowflakes from earlier had turned into a whirling blizzard, the icy wind biting into his small form as he made his way home. Pulling the window closed behind him, he was glad for the minimal warmth the apartment offered. One of the things he noticed in this form was the absence of heat his quirk had provided him. He quickly began to regret his foray into the winter weather as his paws ached with cold from the ice-packed into them from his dash home in the inclement weather. He closed the window as best as he could, frowning to himself as it didn't shut properly. Unfortunately, without thumbs, he couldn't fix it, so he resorted to huddling into your blankets, buried under sheets and your stupid allmight themed comforter. One that he had conveniently chewed the face off of.

In his blanket fortress, he found himself dozing, surrounded by the scent of your body wash and detergent. It was a comforting scent and he quickly fell asleep, unaware of whistling wind pushing the window open where the latch had failed to close when he returned.

~~~

Enji dreamed of being human again. He flexed his fingers experimentally, testing the sensation, one he hadn't felt in a long time. He examined his surroundings carefully, the change in perspective disorienting. It was your apartment, but it looked older, the carpet worn and more decorations faded. He picked up one of the dog toys on the floor, marveling at the difference from just earlier that day when you had encouraged him to play with it. Had that been today? It felt like a lifetime away, as dreams never do seem to keep the passage of time constant.

He set the toy down at the sound of the door, eyes widening as they caught on your form. You were shorter than him now. Considering he was 6'4" in this form, it shouldn't have surprised him. But still, it was strange looking down on you. You rolled your eyes with a playful smile and started to put your things away.

"Enji, darling, close your mouth. You'll catch flies like that." He could hear the laughter in your voice as you teased him. Darling? He hadn't heard you use that word for him before. He found he liked the way it sounded from you. Especially if it was reserved for him.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward, helping you remove your coat. His heart caught in his throat when you looked back at him with fondness. He was usually so sure of himself. But this change was strange and he found himself flustered.

"You're so quiet today, hothead." You raised an eyebrow and placed your hands on your hips eyeing him as if he was a puzzle you had most of the pieces of but were having trouble placing the last ones.

"What's wrong? Did you break something while I was out?" You gasped and pointed a finger at him accusingly. "Did you try to get rid of my Allmight stuff again? I swear Enji, I will kill you if you did."

This was too strange to be real, he told himself, watching you silently as you began muttering to yourself and throwing him confused looks. This scenario was too good to be true. He knew this deep down, but he desperately wanted it to be real. He knew he had begun to grow feelings for you, but to have them returned like this felt too alien. He instinctively knew that something was off, but he wanted to pretend, just for a little longer.

He caught your hand mid gesture and placed a gentle kiss to your fingers, a small smirk forming at your flustered silence.

"Quiet yourself little ember. I haven't done anything to your stupid merchandise."

You huffed and pulled your hand from his grip, cheeks red.

"Well then why were you so quiet, dummy?"

He tilted his head lightly, a smile forming on his lips as he stared at you, enjoying the way you refused to meet his eyes a slight pout turning your lips down.

"I missed you," he murmured, gently tilting your chin up so you were looking at him once more.

You melted against him, leaning into his touch, gently holding pressing his hand against your face with your own. He noticed with a start that your hands were cold against his. Your face too. He frowned as you shivered against his palm, eyes opening to reveal crystals forming on your lashes. The color began to drain from your face, lips going blue as you stepped away from him.

He reached towards you, but your skin stung like frost burn against his touch. He desperately tried to pull you close to him, to heat you with his quirk, but he was no longer warm himself. Your skin grew silver and icy as you tried to push him away. His vocal cords were frozen, a cold lump in his throat that refused to form your name. He was forced to watch in terror as you went see-through, body made of ice. And then you crumbled beneath his touch, ice forming cracks, and your eyes met his one last time before you shattered into glittering crystalline ice shards before him.

He woke with a start, paws flailing in panic as he was roused by a loud noise. But it wasn't ice cracking he heard, but the front door striking the wall. slipping out from the blankets, he made his way through the thin powder of snow on the floor from the open window, hurrying to the living room to meet you and make sure you were okay.

The sight that met his eyes was straight out of his dream turned nightmare. You were shivering with cold, clothes clinging to you with ice forming at the folds. Your eyelashes were dusted with snowflakes, and your face was flushed with cold.

Enji whimpered, rushing forward to examine you. You gently shooed him away, not having the energy to be more strict. The freak blizzard struck on your way home from work. As you journeyed through the snow, you had tripped. You had attempted to steady yourself against a tree, but that only caused an avalanche of the cold snow to our down on you from above, soaking you thoroughly. You had hoped to warm up when you came home, but it was just as cold inside as it was outside. The window Enji had failed to close causing the winter chill to follow you inside.

You cursed and desperately removed your soaked jacket, hanging it up before stumbling to the bathroom. A strangled sound of dispair escaped your lips as the faucets failed to work. It seems the pipes had frozen. To top it all off, the lightbulbs flicked before plunging the room into darkness. The power had been knocked out. You were out of options to warm up. You staggered out of the dark room and worked to close the window. Enji trailed behind you, his fear growing as began to look more and more like the icy girl within his dream.

Peeling your wet clothes from your body was a difficult task while you were shaking. While you struggled with the buttons, Enji rushed to your dresser, dragging out the warmest clothes he could find. He left them by your side before sitting against your legs, offering as much warmth as he could with his body, as there wasn't much else he could do. He could hear your teeth chattering now, the sharp sound deafening to him. You changed as quickly as your cold temperature allowed and crawled into your blankets.

"Enji! Up." You patted the bed urgently, holding the blanket up for him to join you.

He curled up against your side, resting his head against your chest, hoping to provide heat to your vital organs. He whimpered against your cold skin, eyes searching your face with concern. This wasn't good. He hadn't been able to save you in his nightmare, and now he was worried he was going to lose you in real life as well.

You closed your eyes and shushed him, holding him close.

"It'll be okay Enji. Just try to conserve your energy. We'll be okay."

You reassured him, but you weren't so certain. With no heating, freezing temperatures, and an already chilled body, you weren't too sure what would happen next. Still, you had Enji and that meant that you'd give him everything you could. What little body heat you had was his.

You tried to fight off sleep, knowing that you weren't supposed to rest when you were freezing. Or was that with concussions? You didn't remember. You were tired, your body shaking with cold. Enji's whimpers were a near-constant sound now. His distress worried you, but you couldn't do more than try to keep him warm at this point.

You were hovering on the edge of sleep when it happened. A quiet pop sound came from nearby and you were vaguely aware of heat beginning to surround you. The blankets were removed and a heavy weight settled around your waist, warming you with an almost uncomfortable heat. You settled into it, wondering if you were reaching hypothermia. They said that once you got really bad, your mind started tricking you into believing you were hot while you froze. Oh well, so long as Enji was warm too.

Enji Cradled you close to his chest. He hadn't been prepared for the switch from dog to human, but he was beyond grateful for it. He had quickly moved you from the bed so as not to set fire to the covers as he activated his quirk. He cradled you against his chest, tucking your head against his neck, resting his chin on the top of your head as he let his quirk dance across his body at a low level.

"Hold on, little ember, you're going to be okay. Just hold on." Enji stroked his thumb against your arm, holding you close as he carefully upped the temperature slowly. He stayed awake well into the night monitoring your condition. He mentally thanked UA for their first aid and rescue classes, knowing that without them, he might have hurt you more than help.

He gently cared for you well into the night, too concerned about you to enjoy the feeling of you in his arms.

~~~~

You woke to a beam of sunlight cascading from your bedroom window. You didn't open your eyes though, you were too comfortable. You felt warm and content. However, the gentle rise and fall of your bed was enough to stir confusion in your sleep-addled mind.

You blearily opened your eyes, the last remnants of sleep blurring your vision. You stared up at red fur before your brain made the correction for you. That wasn't fur. It was hair. A red beard in fact.

Adrenaline shot through your system. You weren't in bed. You were in the arms of a stranger. A very attractive built stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

You kept your eyes on his face as you carefully tried to work yourself free, prying his fingers from your hip. You watched for any sign of wakefulness. You were almost free when you slipped up. His grip tightened as he began to rouse, eyes slowly opening to reveal the most striking shade of turquoise you'd ever seen.

Enji looked down at you through tired eyes, pleased to see that your color had returned in the night. However, the deer in the headlights look you wore didn't suit you.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, voice rough with sleep.

You shuddered as you felt the deep sound against you.

"I feel alright, albeit confused," You spoke slowly and cautiously, eyeing the handsome stranger with apprehension.

"Who are you? Where's Enji? He wouldn't have let you in here."

Enji looked up in thought, considering his response carefully.

"Enji is not far at all, ember. He's safe. I want to assure you that you're safe too."

You couldn't help the incredulous noise that escaped you at that.

"I'm sorry, but this doesn't seem like a situation I would deem 'safe'." You mumbled.

He just smiled and shook his head in response. If he wasn't already holding you, you were concerned your knees would have given out at that smile.

"I'm here because of a quirk malfunction. One that turned me and my team into animals upon contact." He looked at you firmly, fixing you into place with his gaze, offering no chance for interruptions.

"My name is Enji Todoroki, hero name: Endeavor. And I was turned into a pit bull that was entrusted to a frankly obnoxious but kind woman. I shared her home and was quite the jerk if I'm being honest. And then, the woman saved my life after I foolishly went after a villain. She shielded me from what would have been a death blow." He looked ahead, not wanting to see her reaction to his explanation.

"She has my respect, and.... should she accept it, my heart."

He waited in silence for a few moments more before looking back at you. You blinked in shocked silence as you worked to process the information. When he opened his mouth to say more, you firmly held a finger to his lips as you worked through your thoughts.

Finally, you looked back at him and narrowed your eyes, removing your finger.

"Prove it. Prove that you're my Enji and not some creep with an insane story?"

His stomach fluttered when you referred to him as 'your' Enji. But he needed to focus.

"Well..." He shifted his hold, rubbing circles on your hip as he thought. "I bit you right before the scorpion villain fight. It was a mistake on my part, and I've wanted to apologize ever since. When you woke up in the hospital, you told me about your quirk. When you get upset, you brew your favorite hot drink and watch your favorite show, knees tucked underneath yourself on the couch. Sometimes you let me join you, leaning against your side. You always laughed when I grumbled at something the characters did, saying I was too much of a critic."

You stopped his babbling once more with a finger to the lips. He leaned forward and kissed the finger, watching as a blush spread across your face.

"So... you are telling the truth." You pulled the hand back to your chest, shoulders relaxed from their tensed state. You relaxed back against his chest before quickly leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"Thank you Enji, for saving me. I would have frozen." You watched as a self-satisfied smile spread over his face. he leaned down for another kiss before you stopped him with a giggle.

"Alright loverboy, that was all you're getting. First, you need clothes and then we're going to go out on a proper first date where you tell me about the human Enji."

"I'm looking forward to it." He grinned before kissing your forehead and standing, gently setting you on your feet.

The dynamic between you two was in for a change, but you looked forward to dealing with this new Enji and learning how to move forward with him in your life.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

/rp

tw: physical and mental abuse, torture, drowning, broken bones, body image issues, horror, manipulation, kidnapping, implied gaslighting and stalking, referenced human experimentation, disassociation, obsession, and possessive behaviour

The only illumination in the forest was the silver of the full moon, it’s light streaming gently through the autumn leaves. The only sound was the quiet rustling of leaves in the breeze, the soft footsteps of passing animals. It was… peaceful. Serene. One might not expect it to be one of TommyInnit's favourite places, but it was far away enough from the rest of the server that he felt safe, quiet enough that he’d be able to hear any intruders.

He’d barely been able to sleep lately, ever since he'd heard those sirens, barely been able to leave his house. But it’s not a Big Man thing to hide in the house, trembling in fear like a fucking pussy. He’s not sure what in his sleep deprived mind possessed him to try and get over it by spending the night in a surely monster-infested at this time of night forest, but fuck it. He was always right, anyway, there was a reason people called him Tommy Trusty, or more accurately why he and only he called himself Tommy Trusty.

(No, it had nothing to to do with the fact he was going half mad back in the embassy, losing everything and finding it just when he was about to give up, always hearing noises in the walls Tubbo and Ranboo insisted were just the pipeworks, occasionally seeings the flash of a figure in the corner of his eyes. He’d torn the entire hill apart and found no evidence of anything, but as soon as he rebuilt it started up again.)

He just about jumped out of his skin hearing the pinging of his communicator. His laughter when he realised it was just the communicator definitely wasn’t forced, though, he definitely wasn’t shaking when he opened it up, because he wasn’t a fucking bitch baby. Probably just Tubbo or Ranboo being too damn clingy, or Wilbur asking why the fuck he’s a grandfather or something, right?

His eyes widened when he read the message on his screen. The communicator fell to the floor as Tommy scrambled desperately into the trees, words still repeating in his head over and over.

Dream: Run :)

——

It could have been minutes or hours of blind running through the trees in sheer panic before he dared to take a seconds break, doubling over against a tall oak, panting. He wasn’t even sure if he’d gotten anywhere, or just ran in circles, and he wasn’t even sure if it mattered. It was Dream, he did this shit for a living. Tommy was a dead man walking. Was it even worth it running to just prolong it, instead of just sitting still and waiting to die?

A strange sound came from his mouth, a warbling combination of crying and laughter. It forced it's way from his chest, loud and painful and making him break into fits of coughing, barely holding onto the bark to keep himself upright. Prime, was he already going insane? The sun hadn’t even rose yet, and he was already barely standing on shakey legs, laughing and crying into the void.

The void laughed back.

Tommy barely had a second to react before he felt the harsh bite of the axe into his shoulder, and was pinned to the tree like a butterfly to a board, forced to stare face to face with his hunter.

Dream's mask was askew, his eyes manic (no, he realised, his eye, a sickening feeling grasping his stomach as it dawned on him one had been ripped out, leaving an empty, scarred socket). His mouth was twisted into a grin, half as manic as his eyes but half eerily familiar, reminding him of the look on Wilbur's face when they’d first met again after the two of them had moved to the SMP.

After too-long and not-long-enough, Dream yanked back the axe, causing Tommy to crumple to the floor as a new wave of pain emanated through his body. He struggled for breath, not even enough energy to scream, and barely even notice the hand ruffling through his hair brotherly.

Claws grasped tightly around his hair after a moment, yanking him back up onto his feet. He barely avoided falling back onto his knees after Dream let go, as he shakily ran as fast as he could, deeper into the forest, ignoring the eyes bored in on his every move, the wheezing laughed echoing off the trees, the sinking feeling that this too was just another part of the game.

——

Tommy took shakey breaths, curling in on himself and trying to be as quiet as possible, small as possible. He instinctively raised his hand to his shoulder for what must have been for the thousandth time. It’s still surprising when he doesn’t feel it slick with blood, just cold like marble, like a corpse.

(He really was just a dead body forced to keep walking around, wasn’t he? He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror anymore, and the confirmation it wasn’t just skin deep felt almost as sickening as the agonising pain going from his shoulder all the way down to his fingers as they lay limp and unresponsive.)

“Come 'ere, Tommy!” Dream said to himself with a clear smile in his voice. God, Tommy sweared he hadn’t shut up since he’d first found him, and he still jumped whenever he heard it. He’d collapsed into the bushes the second he’d had a moment of silence, but that couldn’t just fucking last, could it? “I know you’re here, Tommy. Come on, stop hiding,” he said, voice filled with the same condescension one would have talking to a child or a frightened animal. “I don’t want to have to burn down the forest, but I will if I have to.”

Tommy's eyes darted, frightened, through the greenery. He’d had the luck to manage to collapse away from the thorny berry bushes that surrounded him, but he’d have to crawl through them to escape. He couldn’t find it within himself to care, anyway. He was already aching everywhere, and he’d caught one of his trouser legs on a branch, ripping it awfully and letting his leg get stung over and over by nettles until it was red and inflamed. It was already his bad leg, the one that always hung a bit limp after he broke it in the Final Control Room, but mixed with what must have been hours of running from the muted sunset colours painting the plants around him and a few rough trips he wasn’t sure he could even walk anymore.

Still, he couldn’t just sit and wait to burn to death, so when he heard the sound of a spark he desperately crawled through the brambles, clawing through with one good arm and leg, scrambling as fast as he could to try and somehow get a lead. He heard Dream's fucking obnoxious tea-kettle laugh, and grit his teeth as he heard the sound of claws against dirt grow closer.

Tommy tried his best to keep quiet as the thorns dug into his skin, as he had to use his remaining working hand to pull them out as they embedded themselves in his skin. Something other than the gnawing terror grew in his chest, something warm, as he slowly, far too painfully slowly, clawed his way closer and closer to the clear ground, felt the ground turn muddier and more and more of a slog to drag himself through. He could hear the flowing water of a river up ahead, and ridiculously his first thought is relief he can finally get off the dirt and grime uncomfortably coating every inch of him.

He breathed a sigh of relief, the first in who knows how long, as he finally, finally, managed to crawl out of the foliage, clawing his hand onto the clearing. He felt a sense of relief, of finally being free from the awful feeling of the thorns tearing through his clothes and sinking into his flesh. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was hope, but it was the closest he could ever remember to it.

Whatever it was, Tommy quickly felt it die as something heavy came down on his hand, the feeling of his bones being crushed underneath him sending a new wave of nausea through his body, leaving him gagging, not enough in him to even be sick.

Dream pulled him into the air by the scruff of his neck, and Tommy didn’t even have the energy to fight back anymore. He just let himself hang limply from Dream's grip, eyes focused on nothing in particular as his hunter laughed and laughed and laughed hysterically.

“Oh, Prime- Tommy, you should have seen the look on your face!” Dream said in between breaths, wiping an inky black tear from his eyes. “That’s the best part of the hunt, y’know? Watching your enemies hope leave their eyes once they’re reminded who they’re dealing with. Once they know who really holds the power- well, there wasn’t really any question here, but you’re so stubborn, anyway. And all I had to do was strike a match.”

Dream forced Tommy to look at the plants behind him, completely healthy and unburnt. “I didn’t even have to set anything alight, I just had to make you think I did. It’s so easy! You never think ahead, do you, Tommy? When the fear gets to you, there’s nothing different from you and a wild animal. And wild animals can be tamed.”

“Fu-fuck off,” Tommy forced through gagging. “I’m not like- like a fucking wolf, I'm not a pet. I'd rather die.”

Tommy was pretty sure Dream was rolling his eye. “Well, if I have to do both, there’s nothing stopping me. No one knows where we are. I’ve not seen anyone else even come here but you. Even if they go looking for you, they’ll never find us, Tommy. We've got an eternity.”

“Even if? Shut up, prick. I know they’re looking for me. Tubbo's looking for me. Ranboo's looking for me. Wil- Wilbur, he has to be looking for me.” Tommy insisted.

Dream’s face softened into the false concern that pissed off Tommy more than anything. “Wilbur? Why would Wilbur be looking for you? He left you behind with just a forgetful ghost, remember? And Tubbo? Tubbo exiled you once before, what makes you think he’s gonna care now you’re gone again? Did he even try to free you when you were stuck in the prison? Did Ranboo?”

“I-“ Thinking of it, Tommy wasn’t sure if they had. They’d just got married, adopted a kid, and tried to forget about him. He wasn’t going to fucking listen to Dream, though, so he growled, half feral. “Shut up. Just kill me and get it over with, dickhead.”

Dream burst into the wheezing laughter again. “I’m not going to kill you, Tommy. Not here, not now. That’d be far too boring. I'm going to keep going up until you can’t, anymore, and then I'll take you home- to our home, I built it specifically with you in mind, and then maybe we'll get started on the experiments.”

That brought back old memories that Tommy had hoped were gone, tubes and agonising injections and scalpels and being cut open alive again and again. “I’m not being a fucking labrat again.” Tommy said, swallowing and trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

“You don’t have a choice,” Dream said, sounding far too cheerful about that fact. He carelessly dropped Tommy back to the ground, onto his knees. He ran a hand through Tommy's hair like he was stroking a fucking dog, and Tommy hated how he automatically leant into it, some animalistic, raw sound bubbling from his throat as Dream continued. “Don’t worry, Tommy, I'll take care of you. It’s not like I’m going to lock you in a cage and ignore you or anything. You’re far too fun for that.”

Tommy looked at the ground, trying to hide the fact he could feel his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. How much had he told Dream about everything, during exi- during Logsted- during the “E” times? He yelped as Dream roughly forced his chin up with his claws, digging in harsher than the thorns. Tommy did his very best to avoid looking him in the eyes as he felt his gaze.

“Tommy. Look at me.”

“No,” he said without thinking. By the time he realised what he said, before he could even open his mouth he was being dragged by his hair. The pain was almost as bad as his hand, as he was unable to even try and take the weight onto anything but the chunkful of hair Dream had a vice grip on. Tommy bit his tongue, trying his best not to scream.

He didn’t even realise what was going on until his head was shoved under the freezing water. He took a lungful of water in with a breath, desperately flailing with what strength he had left with what limbs he could move. The cold stung at his eyes, his skin, feeling like a thousand needles stuck through every nerve on his head, and he couldn’t stop himself from hyperventilating, taking in more and more water until suddenly he just felt too tired to move, too calm to care, and his head was suddenly yanked back out into the air.

He coughed up water, taking in a few breaths, and before he could fully comprehend what was going on he was under the water again, burning his lungs and making him want to peel his skin off. He wasn’t sure how many of the horrible, repetitive cycles he went through of the drowning, under until he felt like he was going to drown, then up for a few precious breaths only to be forced back into the water again. The worst part was that he couldn’t help thinking, well, this is better than the salt water, better than the exile.

Finally, after what feels like hours he's pulled back onto the bank, curling up in on himself and gagging up mouthfuls of water. He closed his eyes and saw Log- saw the beach, opened them and saw the forest, until they started to blur together, mud and tents and fresh and salt water mixing into one.

He painfully forced himself up on one elbow after finally he didn’t feel like he was going to vomit up any more water, and he heard Dream hum. “So you can still crawl, hmm? I‘ll give you a ten minutes head start, and you better have moved by the times up.”

“But-“

“I told you, this ends when you can’t keep going anymore. Not when you won’t.” Tommy flinched away from the sternness of the voice, expecting another blow. “Maybe I'd have given you some pity, if you hadn’t defied me. Unless you liked it under the river, I’d suggest you obey.”

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice.

——

Tommy had barely managed to crawl from the river, behind a boulder, when he collapsed completely.

He couldn’t move anymore, could barely blink. It was still sunrise, the last of the stars having disappeared. The colours were pretty.

Prime, he was tired.

He felt back like when he was little, and Philza had just taken Tubbo in, and he’d stayed up all night comforting him after he’d had a nightmare, and he was so tired he’d started seeing shit, yet feeling like he couldn’t sleep yet, he needed to stay awake.

He’d never see Tubbo again. He thought he’d feel sad about that, but he just felt resigned. Sadness required energy he didn’t have.

All he could really focus on was the feeling of the breeze against his skin, the heavy feeling against his chest as he focused on breathing, in, out, in, out, the burning in his throat and his shoulder and his hand. They felt like the only things real anymore, everything else a dull snapshot that felt so distant, so far away.

He knew he should panic when he heard the sound of claws tapping on the ground, words that blurred into one big mess, but he couldn’t. He just felt tired, frozen.

He’d heard, once, that when deers stand in the headlights of an upcoming car they freeze instead of running or fighting. Tommy thought that was stupid back then. Now, dimly, it made sense. Staying still was just so much easier, and sometimes all you could do was conserve your energy.

He wanted to just close his eyes, to sleep, but something at the back of his mind screamed at him that Dream wouldn’t like it.

He feels a hand ruffle through his hair before he sees him, and for a second he thinks of Wilbur, back when Tommy was very little. He used to have nightmares back then, and he’d cry all night and wake up Wilbur and Wilbur would tell him made up stories about grand nations and heroes with cocky grins and electric blue eyes with cool brothers that wrote songs and loved the ocean.

Wilbur wasn’t here, though. It was just Tommy and Dream. Just Tommy and Dream now and forever.

“‘M tired,” he whined, leaning into Dream's touch automatically. Dream laughed.

“You must be. C'mon, let’s go home.”

Tommy didn't resist as Dream picked him up effortlessly, slung over his shoulder like a hunters prize catch. It hurt his shoulder, and he bit his tongue, vaguely remembering he didn't like showing weakness. He felt like more of a placeholder in Tommy's shell, like Tommy had fallen asleep awake and he was the replacement.

He tried to focus on Dream. Focus on something but the static of tiredness clouding his head. Being like that felt dangerous, like something he wasn’t allowed to do. But Dream was there, physically there, and Tommy focused on the feeling of his bony shoulder, the sharp claws gently holding him steady, the feeling of hair brushing against the tattered remains of his hoodie.

“Y'know,” Dream said, more to himself than to Tommy, “I've got materials for some regen potions back home. With them, your hand could be able to heal in a few weeks, and then we can do this all over again. That'd be nice.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no.”

“'T wouldn’t be fun. I don’t wanna do this ever again.”

Dream laughed to himself slightly. “I wasn’t asking. Not everything is about you, Tommy. Now, go to sleep. I want you aware when I show you our new home.”

“'Mkay.”

Dream laughed again. “You'll really do anything I say like this, won't you?”

Tommy shook his head, ignoring how dizzy it made him. “Nah, 'm just… tired.” he said, finishing with a yawn, making Dream laugh again. That was good, he thought. It was just him and Dream, right? They just had each other, now, they should try and help each other.

Tommy knew he should have been frightened, he should have been fucking terrified, but all he could think of drifting off to sleep was that he just hoped tomorrow would be less exhausting.