#we are not all your abusers and we are not all abusive.

[rivergirlabby]

We're all human. Individuals, capable of good and evil.

I'm transgender, all but one member of my family voted blue, and my immediate family members are either abusive or wave away the behavior of my abusers. The one member who voted for Trump never asked any questions when I came out. He just accepted that I'm a woman and immediately started using my chosen name.

The differences between right and left are imposed, engineered to keep us divided. But when we find parts about each other to respect, the true enemy becomes clear: the rich who make their money off of our blood and suffering.

It comes down to the leaders, the ones who dictate policy and mentality and who say "this is your ideological enemy, go fight them." Right wing pundits saying for trans people to be wiped out, left wing people saying to cut out all who voted for Trump and make them stew in regret, people who say I should remain with my abusers and cut out the one supportive family member, and people telling him that he should subject me to conversion therapy (he immediately cut ties with the old friends of his who said that), those individuals are the true enemy, not the other party.

We need to stop writing off our supposed enemies and start rallying with them against the boot that's on both of our necks.

a comment under one of Ben Shapiro’s latest videos that i like

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.

At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.

Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.

"Daughter." "Sister."

These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.

Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."

Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?

Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."

Your face drops as you turn to her.

She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.

Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."

Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."

Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"

You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."

Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."

Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.

The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"

He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"

You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.

"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."

You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."

Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."

You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.

You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.

You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.

"What?" you knit your brows at him.

"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."

He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"

Your maester nods, "highly likely."

You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."

You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.

"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.

It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."

Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.

We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.

"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."

Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"

"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.

"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."

Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"

"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"

This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."

Corlys sighs, "as I was-"

"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.

Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"

Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"

Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"

Daemon whips his head his direction.

"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"

"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"

Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."

His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."

Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"

Daemon clenches his plate

"And she never mentioned thi—"

"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.

Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"

"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.

Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.

"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!

He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.

He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.

You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.

He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.

He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞�� 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢

A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.

He's read enough.

Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.

You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.

Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."

You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"

"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."

Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."

" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.

"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."

You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.

"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."

"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.

He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."

You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."

"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."

Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."

He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."

"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."

Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.

"Continue!"

He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"

"He is," you scratch your eyes.

"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."

You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.

"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."

You feel sick, sicker.

"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."

You heave as you continue walking around.

"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."

You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.

"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."

"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.

He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."

"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"

He is taken off guard when you shove him back.

"Even you are against me!"

Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."

You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"

His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.

"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"

"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"

"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"

He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.

You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.

Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.

"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."

"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"

"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"

He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.

"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."

He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"

"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."

His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."

You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.

When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.

He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.

You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."

His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.

The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.

He frowns.

"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."

He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.

You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"

The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."

You huff, "I am her older si-"

"But for your babe."

You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.

"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."

The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."

"My princess."

"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"

He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.

The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.

The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.

Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.

"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."

Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."

The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."

You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.

Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."

You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.

Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.

You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.

"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"

His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.

"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.

You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.

Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?

As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.

Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."

You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.

"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."

You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.

"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"

"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."

His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"

You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."

He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"

"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."

Viserys turns to you.

You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."

He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."

You find no comfort in his words.

"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."

The thought nearly makes you flinch.

He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"

You begin to feel sick.

"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."

Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.

"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."

His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.

"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"

"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."

"Eadan—"

He grins and points, "little fire."

"—and Alaeric," you huff.

"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."

You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."

He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."

"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."

He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"

"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."

Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"

You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."

"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.

Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"

You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.

Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.

"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.

Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.

The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.

It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.

Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."

Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.

Your scream makes his stomach curdle.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.

Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."

The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.

You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."

The thought is gutting.

You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."

Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.

Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.

Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.

You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.

Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."

Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.

You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."

She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."

A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?

She wordlessly agrees.

You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."

A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."

"They're perfect, are they not?"

She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."

You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.

You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.

Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."

"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."

You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."

"My princess, I-"

"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"

He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."

You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.

Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.

Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"

"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.

"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."

"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.

All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.

You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.

Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.

Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"

You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.

"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."

The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.

He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."

A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.

"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.

The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"

Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."

"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"

Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"

"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.

The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"

"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.

Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"

"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"

"Please."

The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."

"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."

Arryk turns to Erryk.

"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.

Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.

Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.

"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.

The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.

Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.

Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"

Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"

You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.

You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.

[demonic0angel]

Due to the Anti-Ecto Acts, Jason, a highly ecto contaminated individual, is legally no longer considered a sapient being. Which means he can no longer be legally held accountable for his actions. A fact he abuses with enormous glee.

“We need to talk," Bruce said, sounding exhausted.

Jason smiled cheerfully. While the look usually would've been uncharacteristic enough to make them all test him for his DNA, it was so common nowadays that everyone just put their head in their hands to hide away from his smile.

"Why? What do you mean?" Jason asked.

Damian stood up, slamming his hands down on the table. "That! That is what we are concerned about! Your crimes must be answered to!"

"Crimes?" Jason was almost batting his eyelashes with the way he was blinking innocently at Damian. "What crimes? I have done no such thing."

Dick spoke up wryly, "Little wing, you terrorized the mayor by stalking him for several days, pranked the GCPD seven times, let the animals go in the zoo twice, stole multiple priceless treasures to give to Jazz and Danny and their friends and family for bribe government officials, robbed three banks to fund the cause to assassinate the president, shot five billionaires, beat up four other CEOs, and then lit the roof of Wayne Enterprises on fire to declare your love for Jazz. I'm pretty sure those are crimes."

Jason beamed. "No, they're not. Because according to recent law, proposed by the GIW and ratified by the government, I am not a sapient being. Therefore, I can no longer be held accountable for my actions. Until I am caught and tried by the GIW, I am not bound by any laws and nobody is allowed to take me in except the Ghost Investigation Ward."

Tim grumbled something underneath his breath, which sounded a lot like, "I should've just reported his ass to the government."

Stephanie nudged him hard. Tim growled and then rubbed at his shoulder. Finally, he stood up and said, "Jason! It still isn't an excuse for you to jeopardize our work just so you can flirt with Jazz and overthrow the government!"

Jason's grin grew even wider.

"What're you gonna do? Arrest me?"

Damian and Tim lunged at him and then an entire brawl broke out. Bruce clutched his coffee mug to himself desperately, praying for any god out there to give him patience and help.

... he was pretty sure they were laughing at him.

[bonyassfish]

Very odd how many people are responding to this being like “see religion is evil!!!”

Bestie, the whole issue here is that we as Jews, along with Indigenous people, were NOT allowed to practice our own religions (and also were kidnapped and abused). If you read all this and you conclusion is that all religions are equally evil, get some goddamn reading comprehension

Also, to the person who left this tag:

This is a post about extremely traumatic historical events, the impacts of which are still deeply felt by the affected communities today. Please don’t bring your fucking fandoms into this, thanks.

Love seeing something from TikTok and going “girlie that is literally what led to the downfall of the Papal States”

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (01) all i had

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

the wind was howling.

your bag felt heavy on your shoulders as you brisked through the night, flickering street lights as your only source of light. your phone died a while back, but it's fine since you knew every nook and cranny of the route from your workplace back to your aunt's apartment. 

you've had a pretty shitty day so far: customers yelling in your face about things out of your control, your bicycle getting stolen (again) rendering you having to travel back on foot, and on top of that, you have exams coming up this week.

all you could let out was a tired sigh while trying to revise the material under your breath.

just as you're about to turn the knob of the apartment door, looking forward to finally getting some sleep before having to drag yourself to school that starts in a few hours, the door swings open violently and you stumble back, startled. the sight of your aunt gripping the door while holding a broken bottle greets you as she stands there with an unsettling and wild look in her eyes, her tone final.

“get in the car, now.”

sitting in gotham’s police department with the background noise feels distant, everything is incoherent, too much noise, too much light, just too much.

you feel hollow.

can’t wrap your head around the series of events that had just occurred, alternating between gnawing your lips and picking your fingers, the chatter zoned in and out as you just sat there, not knowing what was to come.

you don’t know how long you've sat there while the police were making phone calls and running through their data records of you after taking multiple different samples 2 days ago in order to decide where they should toss you to next. you’ve been placed under watch just so they could make sure there were no complications from the injuries you sustained, practically living in the station. it wasn’t that bad, the GCPD was well-insulated, safe, and you’re given food to eat for free (not that you can taste anything). it’s much better than being left to fend for yourself in the streets.

you know you should be planning on what to do next, but your brain feels like tv static, nothing making sense. you had worked so hard despite the circumstances you were in, tried to make the best out of the shitty cards dealt. you weren’t happy, but you were in control, you had a plan. work hard, save up, get a degree and move the fuck out of this godforsaken city. start over.

staring at the ground, a pair of shoes enters your vision.

“your labs came back, we got your DNA results.”

this was not what you had in mind.

you’ve never been in a car this luxurious before. the man who introduced himself as alfred, the wayne’s family butler, your father's butler, was seated in the front driving to your supposed new home. you stare outside, gaze unfocused, arms cradling your backpack close to your chest - your entire life in it: your school supplies and a few other personal items, while the rest remains at your aunt’s apartment - that is currently taped off by police and under investigation. eyes trained on the passing view outside, you feel bad for alfred who’s tried to strike up conversation to get to know you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to elaborate on your short responses. you hope he doesn’t take it too personally.

before you knew it, the car rolled to a stop outside the wayne manor. grabbing your bag, you trail behind the butler, the feeling of dread suddenly consumes your entire being.

“i do apologize for the absence of master bruce, young miss. i’m certain if he weren’t caught up with this current case, you would've received a personal welcome from your father himself", he gave you an apologetic smile.

you nodded in response, not really processing his words despite the tiny feeling of disappointment felt as you step foot into the grand yet empty manor. your presence a stark contrast to the fancy room you've entered.

however, you do look forward to seeing your new family: your father and siblings that alfred mentioned in brief, insisting for you to get to know them yourself while singing them high praises.

maybe this was the start over you needed. maybe you'll finally know what it's like to be loved.

you should've known then.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you're tired, so very tired.

you're done.

nothing feels worth it anymore.

you don't have it in you to continue.

feet dangling off the crumbling abandoned building, you feel oddly at peace. everything is quiet. everything feels right, no responsibilities, no burdens, no more. you've decided.

for once in your life, you feel assured, this is the most optimal solution.

for once in your life, you're looking forward to something.

death must be so peaceful, lay buried within the earth, surrounded by silence. no yesterday, no today, no tomorrow. forget time, forgive life.

you'd be no more.

the wind is howling.

you stand up, staring down the steep drop. standing tall, unafraid, certain.

everything was quiet.

you're ready.

you shuffle closer to the edge, one foot hovering off as you will your other foot to do the same, fighting against your body's survival instinct. you're finally doing something for yourself.

"that's a big drop."

you stumble forward in surprise, nearly falling off until a hand grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you back further from the edge. you're stunned speechless, turning to see the source of the whistling voice.

"that's pretty ballsy of you, kid, i gotta admit."

this is embarrassing.

still unable to form any response, you let out a strangled noise in return as he let go of your shirt.

why the hell is one of gotham’s vigilante here.

an uncomfortable silence ensues, you don't know what to say, occasionally glancing up at the masked vigilante while you shifted your weight from one foot to another, feeling awkward.

just as you're about to try and weasel your way out of the situation, he beats you to it.

"nice spot! how'd you even get in?"

he asks casually while stretching and looking around. you don't know what to say.

"it's a still a weekday tomorrow , don't you have school? your parents must be worried you're out here."

your aunt is still waiting for you to return with your half of the pay for the rent. you have an assignment due tomorrow that's worth 10% of your final grade. there's nothing to look forward to.

"...i guess?"

now, you're uncertain, not knowing whether he genuinely didn't understand the implications of your actions or trying to lighten the severity of the situation.

he's uncertain.

he doesn't know how to approach this. he's never had to deal with this before.

you can tell by the strained smile and tensed posture that he also doesn't know what to do. somehow, you appreciate it. the situation is somewhat amusing now that you think about it. one of gotham's most dedicated vigilante standing in an abandoned building trying his best to stop a nobody from ending their insignificant life.

you almost let out a chuckle.

the vigilante bends down to pick up your discarded bag that was tossed to the side, handing it to you. you mumble your thanks, grabbing it and swinging it over your shoulders.

hesitantly, he places his hand on your much smaller frame. his voice warm and soft.

"go home. i'm sure someone is waiting for you."

you've waited for a year.

surrounded by the four walls of your assigned bedroom in the more cold, desolated part in the manor. you didn’t really mind, this arrangement was a blessing in disguise as it turned out, or maybe this arrangement was what turned you into the person you’ve become.

you don’t think you’re a great person, but you weren’t bad either, so you don’t understand why no one in the wayne manor would give you their time of day. sure, you were never reduced to begging for life necessities and having to bust your ass off at some sketchy restaurant working under legal age, while also balancing school work - this was objectively a far better environment for a person to live in compared to when you lived with your aunt. 

but was it wrong to want to be noticed by your own family? against your better judgement, you dared to hope.

you hoped to feel the warmth and care of what being tied by blood could grant. you hoped for an embrace, you hoped for company, you hoped for compassion, you hoped for connection. you hope and hope and hope, all you did was hope, until your memory was mostly filled with what you hoped, until you finally understood you were with them yet you were alone.

you had no place in their life.

just like the day you first arrived, bruce wayne, your father, was always busy. a persona to upkeep in the public eye, an enterprise to maintain, and his children to look after, to be a worthy role model.

but not you, never you.

despite alfred’s effort in trying to arrange for you two to get to know each other in the first week, there was never time. you were trying to wrap your head around the drastic changes that happened, from the procedures of transferring  schools, collecting what little belongings you had from the police station after the investigation, and quitting your job. meanwhile, bruce was still busy chasing leads to his case, determined that he was close to solving whatever it was. it took another week for you to stand in front of bruce’s door, wanting to formally introduce yourself and express your gratitude for taking you in, even if he was legally obligated to. when you finally saw him, you dared to hope. standing in front of you was your father, someone who shared your features. you see him, you see yourself. 

you could never forget the look in his eyes.

it was clear he had no idea who your mother was, but it was fine, you didn’t know her either. your desire to get to know him was not returned. was this what having a father is meant to be like? he couldn’t care less about you. all he did was run you through the ground rules of the house, who to go to if you were to request something, to inform him if you needed anything.

you needed him to look at you.

tim drake was the next person you encountered, your slightly older brother. you hoped that with the proximity in age, it would be easier to connect to him. however, it always seemed like he was preoccupied with something more important, he could not even be bothered to pretend to show interest when you had introduced yourself. you felt small, both in the figurative and literal sense. he was undoubtedly intelligent and talented. you’ve seen the way bruce look at him, actually hold a conversation with him. he was deserving, nothing you could measure to. bruce actually looked at him.

why does nobody look at you?

then you ran into jason todd. to your knowledge, he does not primarily reside within the manor anymore, which would explain why you haven’t really seen him around at all. it doesn’t explain why your first encounter with him was assuming a burglar had snuck in through the window at 3 in the morning. you had nearly dropped your cup of coffee, hearing a brief commentary on how there was another caffeine addict in the house before leaving the kitchen with you still holding your breath in shock. you can’t form a solid opinion on him since you barely see him.

in stark contrast, you had met richard grayson, or dick. the ever sweetest and most amazing older brother that any younger sibling would dream to have. you do too, seeing how much of a brother he was to the other members of the house, but not to you.

never to you.

you’d like to blame him for blindly hoping for things to be different, with his empty promises when he accidentally runs into you while on his search for someone else, and small talk when he’s waiting for something. you catch your father’s appreciative glances towards him sometimes, when dick helps out with managing your siblings.

especially damian al ghul, your half-brother. you were excited to have a younger blood sibling, not that the others were any less important to you, but merely for the delusion that blood could bring you together.

blood meant nothing.

damian was introduced after you were brought in, and his last name was promptly changed into wayne. your encounter was different from the others, him being the only one that sought you out first. again, you had hoped. trying to hide your excitement, you had mistakenly thought he was different from the others, your flesh and blood. 

it’s all the same.

damian had berated your existence, bringing up how you were so unworthy of being a wayne you had yet to receive your father’s last name. you stood there listening to everything he had to say. your flesh and blood.

you admired his strong personality and ability to assert what he wanted. you were complete opposites. it’s no surprise that that’s why he was worthy of the last name.he ended up being the one who had interacted with you the most, even if it was mostly him bullying you. secretly, you held him dear, seeing resemblance between damian and your aunt. he was your flesh and blood.

cassandra cain was yet another sibling you falsely assumed having something in common would bring you two closer. but at this point, you no longer had it in you to put effort in forming a connection with anyone else, worn down by the countless times you’ve been casted aside. 

you remain in the shadows, watching them carry on their daily lives, watched the life you had desperately wanted to be part of but found it impossible. you don’t belong with them, you don’t belong anywhere.

their silence made you feel forgettable.

do you even exist if no one remembers you?

the wind is howling.

and so are the voices.

i don't think im a good story teller since i mostly wrote analytical essays ^^' hopefully it makes sense like who let them (me) cook?? likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

(TAGLIST) lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist :heh:

@confused-they @hoeinthehouse @heartjwonie @strwberryglass

[clownstillwritesfanfic]

I Could Be A Good Mother, and I Wanna Be Your Wife - Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader (REUPLOADED)

PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭

Summary: Class 1A is given the surprise task of caring for baby dolls. Everyone is randomly paired up in two’s, and it’s just your luck that you get your crush as a partner.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 6,535

Warnings/Notes: plus size friendly, poc friendly, trans women friendly (except the bonus scene at the end), reader has a quirk

Disclaimer: This fic was written originally with an OC of mine in mind, however, most people don’t read Canon x OC and while I normally wouldn’t care and wrote one anyway, I am very proud of this and want as many people to read it as possible and hopefully enjoy it. So with that in mind, I took out any describing factors and her name but I did keep some of her backstory and her quirk. If that bothers you, you can move on but I hope you read it anyway because I’m very proud of this.

Also, there is another OC of mine in this story, Usagi. She’s not integral to the plot and has no speaking roles. I had to add her to keep the class even, otherwise someone would’ve been a single parent.

———————————————————————

It was a Monday, few weeks after a majority of Class 1A got their provisional hero licenses when Midnight and Recovery Girl entered the classroom. Aizawa had taken it upon himself to snuggle up in his yellow sleeping bag and take a nap after introducing the two women, leaving them to explain what today’s class is.

The students expected Midnight, considering she had taught a few of their classes before, but there were murmurs of why the school nurse was there.

“Listen up boys and girls! We have a very special and unique class for today!” Midnight announced as she raised her hand in the air, her leather whip clutched in her hand, catching the attention of everyone (who was awake) in the room.

“Today isn’t about hero work or everyday schoolwork. This lesson is special, it will help you all later in your lives if you choose this path. The path being….PARENTHOOD!” She exclaimed while striking an enthusiastic pose.

“Wait, what?!” “Seriously?” “What do you mean?!” A series of voices could be heard throughout the classroom.

“Settle down!” Midnight got the attention of the students. “This lesson is the most important lesson anyone can learn. Whether you want to become a parent or not, learning how to care for babies and children is a vital and selfless aspect of life.”

There were a couple hushed protests among the class but Recovery Girl talked over them. “You will have one week to care for these babies.” She explained as she pulled out eleven baby dolls of various genders and races. “These dolls are specially made for things like this. These babies will cry, make noises, “sleep”, “eat”, and soil its diaper like a real baby. They’re also able to record and grade you based on how quickly you can figure out and resolve its problem. And be careful what you say around it and how you say things. They can detect anger and verbal abuse which will drastically affect your score. Now…any questions?”

A bunch of hands were instantly raised. But that didn’t matter since Bakugou stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk and yelled. “WHAT THE HELL DO WE HAVE TO RAISE SOME DUMB BABIES FOR?! THIS IS THE HERO COURSE NOT A NURSEY COURSE!”

“Sit down.” Midnight said sternly. She took over the conversation. “While this lesson isn’t exactly meant to play into your hero work, this knowledge can be beneficial out in the field. For example, in some rescue operations, it can take hours for a child to be reunited with their family. Most of the time, medics will take the child and work with police to try and reunite them with their parents, but there are times where a hero must step in and care for and comfort the child. With older children around three to five years old, they’re easier to calm down. You can talk to them and explain the situation and reassure them. But babies and younger children are harder to console in high stress situations. If you learn these things now, you won’t be stressed if you ever get caught in a situation where you’re in charge of a small child. A lot of heroes are inexperienced with child care unless they are a parent themselves or have young family members. Think of this as getting ahead of a problem before it even starts. Make sense?”

Bakugou grumbled and sat back down.

“Eeeee This is going to be fun! We get to take care of cute babies!” Ashido squealed.

“I don’t think it will be that fun, Mina. Babies are a lot of hard work and dedication.” Asui chimed in, a finger lifted up to her lips. She had two younger siblings, so she knew a thing or two about raising kids.

“Correct you are, child.” Recovery Girl said. “The infant stage is one of the toughest stages of child rearing since they can’t communicate their needs and wants with words. It’s a lot of guessing and paying attention to their body language. However, these dolls do not move so you will have to rely on audio cues to guess what the child needs.”

Midnight spoke up. “You will be split up into groups of two all determined by a random draw. Because there are more boys than girls in this class, some of you will end up in a same sex partnership. You do not have to act as a real couple so don’t freak out if you’re partnered with someone you don’t have romantic feelings for. What’s important is teamwork on taking care of the baby. You are in charge of the child for the rest of this week, including the weekend. You may chose to either take turns or to split responsibility evenly. You will be given all the supplies you will need, if you end up needing more, Recovery Girl will help you. At the end of the week you will return the dolls and we will tally up the scores and see which couple has the lowest score. The lowest score is the winner since each mistake is marked based on how severe of a mistake it was. The higher the score, the worse you did. Any more questions?”

Iida quickly raised his hand. Midnight gestured for him to speak. He stood up and loudly asked “If we are to have the baby all day for the rest of the week, what do we do with it while training? You can’t expect us to take the baby with us! That’s highly dangerous and immoral and I would expect better from such a prestigious school!”

“Yes, you’re right. We don’t expect you to keep the doll with you while training. That’s why each of you will have to figure something out. One of you will have to sit out of training unless you can find a better option. Leaving the child in your dorm and hoping for the best is not an option and neither is bringing it to training and leaving it off to the side. It’s like real life. One of the parents has to stay home and care for the child. Sometimes they will get a babysitter but that is not an option for you since the scores need to come from you and your partner only for you to pass. If you really want to train that day, you’ll either have to talk it through with your partner, or train later in the day during your free time.” Midnight answered.

“Thank you very much for clearing this up.” Iida said, bowing deeply before taking his seat.

Midnight clapped her hands. “Alright! With everything out of the way, let’s draw for your partners.” She held up a blue plastic box. “In this box is twenty-two coloured tokens. There are eleven pairs. Each one of you will reach into this box and pull out one token, when everyone has a token, you will be given time to find the person with the same colour token. They will be your partner for the rest of the week. You may not switch partners. Each colour is already assigned to a baby as well, so you don’t get to chose that either.” As she finished explaining she walked around the room letting everyone reach in and pull out a token. When the box was empty she returned to the front and allowed the class to find their partners.

Midoriya and Uraraka had the yellow tokens, Shouji and Asui had the purple tokens, Mina and Kirishima had the red tokens, Kaminari and Jirou had the orange tokens, Hagakure and Yayorozu had the light blue tokens, Sero and Mineta had the black tokens, Usagi and Tokoyami had the dark blue tokens, Todoroki and Ojiro had the pink tokens, Iida and Aoyama had the green tokens, and Satou and Kouda had the white tokens.

You looked down at your brown coloured token and looked back up to scan the room. All your classmates were already paired up and either happily talking about how it would be to raise a baby together or complaining about their partner. You could faintly hear Mineta crying about not being paired up with a girl. You look across the room at Bakugou who was still sat at his desk, glaring at his token.

Upon closer look, you could see that it was the same colour as yours. You sighed, already accepting that you’ll basically be a single parent as you can’t imagine he’d want anything to do with this. You reluctantly stood up and made your way across the classroom to him.

“Um…hey. Looks like we have the same colour. Guess we’re partners for the week.” You said, gently.

“I can fucking see that. I’m not blind, dumbass.” He retorted.

Ah, it seems he’s decided to take on the verbally abusive and absent father route already. You’ll have to do your best to make sure you get a low enough score. You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You had baby dolls as a kid but they’ve never graded you before. This was a whole new challenge and you could feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“Right…well. We should talk about how we want to do this.” You started. “I think we should take turns each day. I could take it today and you take it tomorrow and repeat. I know you probably don’t want to skip a day of training so I can take it during training even on your days. There’s not much really for me to train anyway so I can afford to lose a week of it.” You let out a weak laugh.

Bakugou growled. “Do whatever you want but don’t be stupid. You can train on the days I have it. Don’t stop your training over some dumb doll.”

“But…you would be stopping yours if you-“ You get cut off by the blonde.

“I’m already the best in this whole class! Missing a few days of training isn’t going to do anything. Besides, you’re weak and you need to be at your strongest so I can beat you and prove that I’m the best in this entire school!” He yelled. You think that was a compliment albeit he put it weirdly.

“Ha…yeah…okay.” You replied. Just then the bell rang and everyone started to put their stuff away. You went over to your desk to do the same.

“Please return your tokens to the box! And before you leave, pick up your baby with the matching colour onesie and the bag of necessities. You have the rest of the day to yourselves.” Said Midnight.

You slung your bag onto your back and walked to the front of the room and dropped your token back into the box. You waited for your classmates to fizzle out a bit so you could get your baby. The dolls were all lined up in car seats. You found the one wearing a brown onesie, a girl with blonde hair. You chuckled to yourself at the resemblance to your partner.

You grabbed the handle of the car seat and went to grab the big duffel bag next to it when someone grabbed it before you. You look over to see Bakugou standing over you, glaring off to the side.

“Move it.” He gruffed out as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

You left the classroom with Bakugou trailing behind you, still scowling. You turn around and start walking backwards to face him and hold out the car seat so he could see the doll nestled inside.

“Look. She looks like you.” You giggled. He glanced down at the blonde doll and huffed.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and turned back around and followed your classmates to the dorms.

———————————————————————

Back in the dorms, everyone was changed out of their school uniforms and gathered in the common room with their new kids. Everyone of course…except for Bakugou, who very grumpily went to his room after dropping the bag of things off at your room.

You had went through the bag and found loads of diapers, clothing, a carrier that strapped to your chest, bottles, a pacifier, and some baby toys. You weren’t exactly sure why you would need toys, considering the baby isn’t actually real, but you guessed you’d find out the reason sooner or later.

You decided to change her out of her boring brown onesie so you picked out a cute outfit from the ones provided. You undid the buckles holding the baby in the car seat (why it came in a car seat when you don’t even know how to drive a car, you will not know) and gently and carefully lifted the little girl out of the seat, making sure to support her head.

As you laid her on the ground and started to undress her, she started making cooing noises.

“Oh! Hello….you must be awake now I guess.” You spoke to the baby as she cooed in reply. “Ha…I guess you are kinda cute.” You felt as if you were talking to yourself.

When your new daughter was dressed, you decided to go to the common room since you thought everyone would be there, and right you were. As you went down the hallway you could hear the excited chatter of your classmates getting louder. When you were in sight, Mina noticed you and waved you over.

“Hey! Come over here! We’re all showing off our babies!” She excitedly exclaimed. As you walked over, Kirishima stood up from his spot beside Mina and offered the space to you. You thanked him as you sat down and readjusted your baby in your arms.

“Course! What kinda man would I be if I didn’t offer a seat to a lady with a baby!” He replied. Ever so chivalrous, he is.

“Ha! That rhymed.” Kaminari pointed out.

“Awww you got a girl? How lucky!” Mina squealed. “Kirishima and I got a boy. We named him Kenji.” You looked down at her lap where the doll was laid on its back.

“You named it?” You asked.

“Well yeah! We can’t just keep calling him “it” and “the baby”.” She explained as if it was obvious.

Iida then chimed in, his baby tucked securely in one of his arms. “Yes, I suppose it would be beneficial to name the child. This is supposed to be taken seriously and we can not leave a child unnamed!”

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room as everyone talked with their partners on what they should name their baby. You looked down to the small blonde doll in your arms that let out another coo and softly smiled.

“Riki…” You thought to yourself. “I’ll call you Riki.”

———————————————————————

“Riki?” Bakugou gawked. “You gave it a name?”

Bakugou was helping with making dinner, well, it was more like he forced everyone to let him do most of it because “no one was doing it right”. You were stood out of the way but within talking distance, your newly named baby in one arm and holding a bottle up to her mouth as she “ate”.

“First off, she’s a she not an “it”. Secondly, everyone in the class named their baby. We have to take this seriously and I’m not going to call her an “it” the whole week. Besides…I thought Riki would be a good name. It means “strong”….and since she kinda looks like you, I figured you’d want your kid to be strong like you so…” You trailed off looking down at the doll in your arms. “We can change it though if you really don’t like it.”

Bakugou huffs. “No…call it-…..call her whatever you want.” He continues to cook in silence. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. You smile softly at him. Maybe you won’t have to do this alone after all.

———————————————————————

The first day goes by smoothly. You had a bit of a learning curve with changing the diaper but you managed after help from Yayorozu. Who knew she’d be so good at something like that?

You had just settled down into bed after putting Riki to “sleep” and were scrolling on your phone. It was about 10pm, most people were still awake but you knew the person you wanted to talk to most more than likely wasn’t. He went to bed at 8:30pm every night, even on weekends.

You stared at your screen open on Bakugou’s blank private messages page. UA made an app for the students to contact each other and teachers with. It worked like a regular texting app, every class had their own group chat and you could private message each other, even students from other classes. All of them were accessible to staff if needed though.

You didn’t know if you should even bother asking him if he’s still going to take Riki tomorrow. Plus you didn’t want to wake him up. You were about to turn your phone off when you got a message from Mina. You open up her message and see a picture of Kirishima with his hair down, asleep on one of the couches in the common room with their baby on his chest. You laughed quietly to yourself and responded with a cute reaction meme. You thought they would make an interesting pair for this project.

You turned off your phone and plugged it in to charge and set it on your bedside table. You got comfortable in bed and closed your eyes. It would take you a while to fall asleep so you started to let your mind wander. You realized that tomorrow Bakugou will miss out on training if he takes the baby. He already told you earlier today in class not to worry about it and to focus on your own training…but you genuinely couldn’t think on how training would benefit you.

Your quirk has always been more of a supporting quirk rather than one that could do well in a fight one on one. Your quirk is called Cheer, by speaking words of encouragement to someone, you can make your target stronger both physically and emotionally. The reverse also works, if you berate someone it makes them weaker. You can use it on more than one person but its effects get weaker the more people you use it in at once. There’s also a major weakness to your quirk. Anytime you berate someone, you gain confidence, but when you encourage someone, it takes away your confidence. Because of this you feel inferior to everyone else in your class. Even Mineta has a more useful quirk in combat than you do. You’re basically forced to sit on the sidelines and watch people fight. It helps in rescue operations but you still wished you could fight like everyone else. You only managed to get into the hero course because you racked up enough rescue points and got lucky with a three pointer.

It’s ironic that someone with an inferiority complex got paired up with someone with a superiority complex. It’s even more ironic that you managed to gain a crush on the bastard too.

———————————————————————

It was now Tuesday morning and Bakugou was sat in his room staring at the doll in its car seat.

You had entered the common room already dressed in your uniform with Riki in the seat. Hero training was the first class that morning so anyone who was in charge of their baby that day stayed behind and would join everyone later for normal classes. Your tie wasn’t done yet and your skirt was pulled up a little too high, showing off more thigh than you usually do, as you were in a rush since Riki wouldn’t stop crying and you couldn’t figure out why. She had finally managed to settle down when you gave her the included pacifier.

You weren’t much of a breakfast eater, especially if you were training in the morning so you didn’t go to the kitchen. You noticed Bakugou sat on one of the couches drinking something out of a mug. He was wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants.

“Oh Bakugou! There you are. I’m guessing since you’re not in uniform you’re still taking Riki today.” You sat the car seat on the floor near him and started doing your tie. You knew you were just going to have to take it off soon to change into your hero costume but you still wanted to show up looking like you at least tried. “So I figured out that she makes different noises depending on what she wants. Most of the time she just wants to be held or given a pacifier so she makes really whiny sounds that almost sound like a cry. She was just crying now and the only thing that made her stop was the pacifier so she might start up again soon. I made a smaller bag of her things like diapers and her bottle just so you’re not carrying a big ass duffel bag later.” You were almost rivalling Midoriya with how fast you were muttering, you didn’t mean to but you didn’t want to be late and you kept fumbling with your tie.

As you were smoothing out your front, you felt a pair of hands grab the bottom of your skirt and start to pull down. You shrieked and smacked the hands away and turned around to see (to the best of your ability) Hagakure behind you.

“Oh my god, Hagakure! I had no idea who was behind me! You scared me thinking it was Mineta pulling at my skirt.” You laughed and grabbed onto the girls arms.

“Ahhh I’m sorry! I just noticed your skirt was up a lot higher than normal and you almost showed off a bit too much.” The invisible girl explained as you fixed your skirt. “Come on, we got to get to class!”

“Right, yeah, I’m coming.” You responded as Hagakure held your hand. You quickly turned to Bakugou again who once again had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s only for an hour before I see you again so if you want to pawn her off to me next class then that’s fine.”

“Tch…how incompetent do you think I am? Of course I can take care of some stupid doll for an hour!” He barked back at you.

You felt Hagakure pulling you towards the front door. “Ok, well…see you later then!” You said as you finally took off with your friend, leaving Bakugou and a few others scattered around the common room.

“Heyyy, Bakugou! You get stuck on babysitting duty too?” Kaminari taunted, his baby settled in a carrier strapped to his chest.

Bakugou growled. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid you idiot. And you look dumb with that thing on.” He stood up and grabbed the handle of the car seat and went off to his room. He could hear Kaminari complaining as he left.

Now here he was, in his room having a staring match with a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do for an hour, let along with a baby. He glanced up at some math homework left on his desk and decided to finish it up so he was ahead of everyone else in class. Ten minutes past when his concentration was interrupted by whining. He looked over at the car seat that was faced away from him at this angle and sighed. He reached over and turned it around.

“Jesus. She didn’t mention how fucking annoying it would be.” He muttered to himself as he undid the straps and lifted the baby out. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” He asked, surprisingly not as loud as he normally would. He thought maybe she was hungry and remembered you said something about a small bag with her bottle in it. He looked around but couldn’t find it. In fact, he didn’t remember seeing any bag with the baby anyway. He grumbled as he picked up his phone and opened up the messaging app and sent you a private message.

In the locker rooms you heard your phone buzz and decided to look at it as you were changing. You saw a notification from Bakugou and quickly opened it.

Katsuki Bakugou: hey, dumbass. she’s crying but I can’t find that bag you were talking about

You winced as you remembered that you never actually grabbed the bag in your rush to get downstairs.

You: damn I must have forgotten it in my room, sorry. feel free to go and grab it. my room code is 6678 it should be on my desk. you know which floor I’m on right?

Bakugou scoffed.

Katsuki Bakugou: yes I know. I’m not stupid.

You: never said you were <3 have fun lol

You didn’t realize you sent the heart. It was muscle memory from texting with your friends, but it sent Bakugou for a loop.

After he had quickly made his way to the second floor and grabbed the bag you mentioned, he went back to his room where he had left the baby on his bed. Her whining had turned into crying by now.

“Alright, Alright! I got your damn stuff.” Bakugou sat on the floor and settled the doll into his arm. He removed the pacifier and held the bottle up to its mouth. He felt relieved when the crying stopped. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He thought out loud.

He rested his back on his bed and started to drift off in to thought. Why did you send that heart? Did you mean to do it? Was it a reflex? Were you making fun of him? No…that couldn’t be right. You were one of the few that took him seriously. Sure you teased him sometimes, but not as much as the others. He thought back to a time where he accidentally overheard something he probably shouldn’t have that still made his heart feel weird.

———————————————————————

Bakugou was making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He could hear you and the other girls of Class 1A giggling and talking about random shit.

He was going to ignore the group when something made him stop in his tracks right before he would be seen.

“Sooo, who do you like?” Mina asked with a teasing voice.

“Who, me?” You asked as Mina nodded. All eyes were on you and you felt yourself blush. “Well…I guess I kinda have a thing for Bakugou…” You answered shyly, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“What?!” “Wait, Bakugou?!” “Really?” The girls cried out in unison.

“Why is that so shocking? You guys seriously don’t think he’s at least a little bit attractive?” You inquired.

Bakugou stiffened at the confession and he felt his heartbeat speed up. You…had a crush on him? Someone actually was interested in him romantically?

“You don’t think all his yelling and name calling is a turn off?” Uraraka asked.

“Hm…not really. Sure he says some mean stuff but…he doesn’t actually mean it.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…he always seems to be serious about it. I mean he doesn’t even know our names.” Jirou huffed.

“Yes he does!” You laughed. “He’s not stupid. He’s a lot smarter than I think any of you give him credit for.”

“He is in the top our class academic wise as well as hero wise.” Yayorozu chimes in.

“Exactly. Have none of you realized that a lot of his plans actually work? He may seem like he’s rushing into things but it’s obvious he’s put clear thought into his plans. And the fact that he can make one up that quickly is impressive. He’s also more compassionate than you’d think.” You said, leaning back on the couch.

“Well I think you’re wrong with that.” Tsu replied.

“Because you guys are only seeing the surface level. You’re not reading in between the lines. For example, remember when we just moved into the dorms, the talk Mr. Aizawa had with us outside?” They nodded. “When Mr. Aizawa left, you could feel the uncomfortable tension in the class at being reminded of what happened. Bakugou grabbed Kaminari and made him go all dumb because he knew it would make everyone laugh. And it did! The tension was gone instantly! Bakugou really does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it like other people. And remember the school festival? He totally could’ve refused to play the drums but he did it anyway! That’s what I like about him. He’s not a cold hearted asshole, he just wants you to think he is. I use to be like that too.” You trailed off, looking ashamed.

“Wait. YOU were an asshole?” Mina prodded.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, back when I first got my quirk. I realized that putting other people down gave me a lot of confidence. I went on a power trip and started bullying everyone. I started to realize that the “friends” that I did have were only my “friends” so they could escape my words. Made me feel like shit when I found out. Now I hate using my quirk like that unless absolutely necessary. But yeah….I see through Bakugou’s walls and I guess it just made me fall for him.” You changed the subject.

“Wow…you’re whipped for him, aren’t you?” Mina teased.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell him that. I don’t need him on my ass about it.” You blushed and waved her off.

“You sure you don’t want him on your ass?” Mina teased again.

“OH SHUT UP!” You threw a pillow at her as the girls laughed.

———————————————————————

Bakugou had zoned out at that memory. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it’s your fault for being so damn loud and talking about him in the first place! It’s been a few weeks since that and it’s still fresh in his mind. Did he like you back? He wasn’t sure. On one hand he was pissed at how you managed to figure him out so easily, but on the other hand…he felt comforted knowing someone understood him and didn’t make fun of him for it. He will admit that you weren’t that bad looking or as stupid as everyone else. He did wish you would see the potential you had with your quirk, though. He could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he scoffed, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back down at the doll in his arms.

“I guess…she’s not so bad…” He said softly to Riki.

———————————————————————

Training had finished and you and the rest of your classmates were on your way to your next class.

Upon entering the classroom you noticed everyone that had skipped out on training standing around, babies either in their arms, strapped to their chest, or in the car seat. Bakugou was sat in his spot, chin in his hand looking out the window to his left.

You had a few minutes to spare before class started so you walked up to your partner. “Hey! How’d it go? Was she fussy?” You asked as you squatted down to see Riki, who was in her car seat on the floor next to his desk.

“Tch, no. I told you I know what I’m doing.” He grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure none of us know what we’re doing but it’s nice to know that you’re taking this seriously.” You replied standing back up.

“HA? YOU THINK I WOULD’NT? YOU THINK I’M NOT CAPABLE OF THIS?” He yelled as he let off small explosions.

“Course not. I did kinda think you would end up leaving most of this to me though. But it’s nice that you’re playing along.” You smiled sincerely.

Iida started ushering everyone to their assigned seats as class was about to begin. You patted Bakugou on his shoulder and left to your seat near the back of the class.

He clenched his fists and glared down at his desk, he could feel his heartbeat going wild again.

———————————————————————

A few days had passed and it was now Friday night and you were at your wits end.

It was your day with Riki and she had been crying non stop for thirty minutes now. You were pacing your room with her in your arms as the doll “sobbed” louder and louder with each agonizing minute. You had no idea what was wrong; you tried feeding her, changing her diaper, holding her, giving her a pacifier, you even tried the toys that they provided but nothing was working!

You were close to tears yourself as you thought about how this would affect your grade and how pissed Bakugou would be if you ruined it. The whole week went by just fine, it never took this long for her to settle down. You had gotten lucky with the baby you were given as she was so easy to care for, but this moment right now was proving difficult.

Feeling like you had no other choice, you left your room with your still wailing daughter in your arms and quickly made your way up to Bakugou’s room.

You knocked on his door while still trying to shush Riki. When Bakugou opened the door, he looked like he had just woken up which made you start ranting.

“Bakugou, fuck, I’m so sorry to bother you right now I know you like to go to bed early but she’s been crying like this for like thirty minutes now and I’ve tried everything but she just won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do and I’m probably gonna make us fail cause I can’t get her to fucking stop and I just…” You panted “…can you please help me?” You nearly whined.

“Give her to me.” Bakugou reached out as you transferred her into his arms. He walked away with the crying doll, leaving his door open. You decided that was an invitation so you slipped into his room and gently closed the door behind you. You watched as Bakugou gently bounced the doll in his arms and started petting its blonde head.

You stared in awe as Riki started to finally quiet down until she was silent. You breathed out a sigh of relief but tears started to quickly gather in your eyes. Bakugou had opened his balcony door and stepped outside to the cool air. You ran a hand through your messy hair and followed them out onto the balcony. The not quite freezing but cold air nipping at your skin. It felt nice as you didn’t even notice that you were sweating from the stress. You bent over and rested your elbows on the railing and placed your head in your hands, trying to hold back your tears.

“She had been crying for so long…I tried everything but nothing worked. But the minute you have her she finally stops. What the hell am I doing wrong? Why am I such a bad mother?” You muttered more to yourself but your partner could hear you anyways.

A minute of silence went by as you tried to not let your tears fall when Bakugou finally spoke up, surprising gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you barely know how to handle.”

He leaned his back against the railing next to you. His arm barely grazing against your shoulder, his way of trying to comfort you. You sniffed and dropped your arms from your head and looked forward out into the dark courtyard.

“She’s been perfect this entire week. Nothing I couldn’t handle…but she just had to act like a total brat tonight.” You sighed.

“Hey.” Bakugou said sternly. “Don’t call our daughter a brat…that’s my line.”

You laughed at that, completely overlooking the fact that you called the doll “our daughter”. Bakugou softly smiled at your laugh, also not realizing exactly what he said. But her certainly felt his heart flutter as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

Bakugou decided he’d take her for the rest of the night so you could get some sleep. It was his turn tomorrow anyway.

———————————————————————

Monday had come by quickly, thus, ending the project. Recovery Girl had collected the dolls, and you couldn’t lie, you felt a little sad at the fact that you won’t have Riki around anymore. The class waited in anticipation to see whose grade was the lowest.

When the results came in, Midnight stood at the front of the class once again and started to call out the grades.

“Coming in last place is Sero and Mineta with a sixty-five.” Mineta started screaming about how unfair it was and that they got a faulty doll. “Todoroki and Ojiro have a score of thirty-four, Kaminari and Jirou have a thirty, Iida and Aoyama a twenty-seven, Usagi and Tokoyami with twenty-five, Shouji and Asui with twenty-one, Hagakure and Yayorozu with twenty, Mina and Kirishima with an eighteen, Satou and Kouda with a fifteen, Bakugou and (Y/N) with a score of eight, and lastly, coming in first place with the best score is Midoriya and Uraraka with a three! Good work everyone. I hope you all learned some valuable lessons from this experience!” Midnight finished.

There were high fives and cheers coming from the people with the lower scores and talks of what they could’ve done better from the people with higher marks.

You stared down at your desk smiling. Eight wasn’t so bad, right? Much better than what Mineta got.

At the front of the class, Bakugou has turned his head back to look at you and softly smiled to himself when he saw your relief. He turned back around to look down at his hands as he played with his pen. He could hear Midoriya and Uraraka being congratulated for the lowest score and for once in his life….he didn’t mind coming in second.

———————————————————————

Bonus:

Twelve years later, Bakugou had established himself as the number two hero with his own agency. You worked along side him as his number one sidekick. You both grew a lot since high school and grew closer from the experience. You managed to get rid of your inferiority complex and become more comfortable with using your quirk against villains rather than standing by and cheering on the heroes. You can also hold your own in combat pretty well now and you have a slew of support items to help.

But instead of kicking ass on the street you were laid out on a hospital bed after the longest 7 hours of your life. You were sweaty and exhausted, but it was all worth it as you looked at the little bundle in your arms. A head of blonde hair was peaking out of the blanket.

“What should we name her?” You whispered to the person leaning over you with their hand on your head and looking lovingly down at the newborn.

“…..Riki.” Bakugou said softly.

[plague-doctor-who]

While the term "forgive and forget" is rather widespread, it's important to remember that forgiving yourself for your past actions doesn't necessitate forgetting the harm they've done and could potentially do again. Just because you allow yourself to stop dwelling on something and beating yourself up over it doesn't mean you have to forget it ever happened.

And that's not to say that the people you hurt don't have a right to be upset with you, they very much do. You could do everything in your power to try to make things better and they still wouldn't owe you forgiveness. But like op said, at some point you have to be able to move forwards yourself, or else you'll just feel sorry for yourself. That just leads to thoughts along the lines of, "I'm already a horrible person, so why shouldn't I do these harmful things? It's not like I can be anything else..." Which is incredibly harmful for both you and those around you.

To forgive is not necessarily to forget. What matters is growth, and you need to be able to move forwards from your misdeeds in order to do that. That doesn't mean putting them all behind you and falling into the same loop, that isn't growth. It means accepting that you did bad things, and that you don't want to be that person anymore, and that you're taking steps to better yourself.

And this isn't restricted to just abuse, this goes for everything. We've all made mistakes, we've all hurt people and done things we regret. That doesn't mean we have to live with those burdens all our lives. We can learn from them and better ourselves. But that all starts with shedding this black-and-white, good-or-evil notion and allowing yourself to exist as a flawed character who's trying to be better.

Oh yeah, and applying this to other people as well. I feel like we, as a society, tend to be extremely judgemental and critical of others based on our limited perceptions of them, without even considering their inner thoughts or ideals that could have led to what we see on the outside, but that's a whole other can of worms I won't get into right now... Point is, even people who have done horrible, evil things, should at least have the chance to try and grow from that if they really put forth the effort to change for the better.

the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese

[tealvenetianmask]

Is there stigma about mental illness in Hell?

Personal bit: I've had chronic depression and anxiety for my entire adult life, and I used to guard it as this big secret, but now I have friends and coworkers who are understanding and have their own issues. And I work in a helping profession where I see that dealing with this stuff is just really fucking common. But recently I've had a bit of culture shock hanging out with my family, and realizing that... oh wait, we still treat our mental health issues like deep dark secrets and refuse to talk about them and/or seek help. And that's the only acceptable way to act. Okay. Thanks guys.

Personal ramble aside, yes, mental health stigma is still an issue in America, 2024 (obviously). And thanks to Sinsmas, I'm convinced that it's an issue in Vivzie's Hell too, in a way that's pretty reflective of how real contemporary society treats it.

Stolas chooses not to tell Blitz about his happy pills. We find out as the episode progresses that he never told Via either.

And plenty of arguments could be made about Stolas just not wanting to burden the people he cares most for. Not wanting Via to worry about him. Not wanting Blitz to be put out financially by tracking down the pills. But I think there's a level of embarrassment here too, and here's why.

Stolas has spent his life being told to bottle up his emotions, and we have evidence of this. We've also seen him struggling to hide his emotions from Blitz before, turning his back in The Full Moon, and straining when forcing himself to stop crying in Apology Tour.

Is the cultural aversion to displays of emotion just an upper class thing in Hell? I think the answer is "sort of." There are ways in which a Goetia is expected to behave, and lower-class demons have more freedom.

BUT

It's not really that simple. We saw toxic masculinity coming from Millie's parents and from Crimson, and that kind of attitude sort of goes hand in hand with mental health stigma. We also saw Verosika say this-

Which shows a certain attitude toward seeking treatment . . .

And Blitz ALSO has a preoccupation with acting like he's fine and can handle things without help that seems very grounded in sort of a working class, "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" attitude. (Bye to all that by Ghostfuckers..)

This has all been a very long way of saying that yes, mental health stigma in Hell is significant and affects our characters.

So what role does discovering Stolas's pills play for Via?

She takes them as confirmation of her fear (one she already had a lot of evidence for, to be fair...) that Stolas stayed in a miserable marriage for 17 years just for her. And more- that she was "never enough" to make him happy.

And she's right but. She's oversimplifying it. She did make her dad happy. When someone's suffering, from abuse, from mental illness, from . . . literal society . . . one wonderful relationship is still not going to make their life a happy one.

Beyond Stolas's specific situation, people with great lives sometimes need happy pills. People's lives are multifaceted, and that's a lot for a young person to understand sometimes.

So if Octavia had grown up in a situation where people . . . idk, talked about mental health and didn't stigmatize emotions . . .?

Yeah, I think she'd react differently to the happy pills. But more importantly, the level of secrecy wouldn't be the same. Stolas would have been more open about his range of emotions and about needing pills, and in countless other ways this situation would have played out differently.

And now I'm tying myself in knots trying to imagine Goetia culture WITHOUT mental health stigma. I don't think it would exist in the same way at all. Quick, someone get an army of excellent mental health professionals and assign them to every single member of Hell's aristocracy.

[fanficsbysteve]

Jeremy Crow

Note: When I write my BuckTommy stuff, I always draw on my own personal experiences when writing stuff for Tommy. He’s a 40 year old gay man, I’m a 40 year old gay man. His Dad was abusive as shit growing up. My Dad was abusive as shit growing up. So, I feel we could have some very similar stuff happen in our lives. So, I had this thought and figured that in my head this was true. So, enjoy another of my silly little headcanons.

Also available on AO3 if you want to leave Kudos.

***

Tommy took Evan up to his bedroom to get ready for bed, and some other things beforehand but Tommy was not going to push for that. It had been two weeks since they had spoken and realized they were both idiots and decided to try again, just not going at light speed that Evan had been going at. Tommy was going to talk about how things made him feel and wasn’t just ‘trying to keep up’ with Evan’s pace. They were also going to go at Tommy’s pace as well.

     Going into the room, Tommy looked at the bed and spotted something sitting in the middle of the bed. Tommy froze. Oh god he had forgotten to put that away. Evan went past Tommy into the room and his eyes also fell onto the bed, “Oh what’s that?” he asked, looking at the bed as well.

     Sitting in the middle of the pillows was a stuffed crow. It looked like it had seen better days, its better days being three decades ago. The black fuzz that had been its torso had all but worn away, the paint on its eyes had been rubbed off and was just the white of the eyes now. The only part that seemed to have withstood the test of time was the beak of the crow, “Um…” Tommy started, “That would be Jeremy. Jeremy Crow.”

 Tommy looked at the crow sitting on his bed, named after a character from a movie he had watched as a child. He had gotten it when he was around five years old and had been sleeping with him every night since. There was something comforting about having Jeremy with him. He slept better. Tommy sometimes thought that Jeremy kept the bad dreams away. He never had them when he had Jeremy in his arms. He had been trying to hide Jeremy away, not wanting Evan to see him because he was scared of what Evan would think about him. A grown man still sleeping with a stuffed animal from his childhood.

     Evan did something that shocked Tommy. Something he hadn’t expected. Evan walked over to the bed, got in, motioned for Tommy to join him, and handed Jeremy over to Tommy, “So tell me about Jeremy,” Evan asked as he lie down.

     Tommy took Jeremy and held him close, feeling the comfort that Jeremy brought to him, “I’ve had him for years,” Tommy started, “My Mom had seen him at a Garage sale and bought him for me. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up so things like this were rare. My mom did enjoy going to garage sales though. She could always find the most interesting treasures at those,” Tommy went to lay down fully in bed, “She passed away about a year after she gave me Jeremy. It’s the only thing I have left that reminds me of her.”

     Evan pulled Tommy into a cuddle. Wrapping his arms around the both of them, “I’m sorry that happened,” Evan said. Tommy had told him about how his mother had died when he was about 6 years old, and how his home life had gone downhill after that as his father had become an alcoholic, “I’m glad you still have something that reminds you of her.”

     Tommy let Evan hold him, feeling his warmth, Jeremy tucked in close to his chest, “I might not have it for long anyways,” Tommy said, “You saw what he looked like. He’s seen better days. I think his best days were back when I was a child. Soon he’s just going to fall apart like most things in my life and I’ll lose the last shred of my Mom.”

     Tommy felt tears welling up, but he refused to let them fall. He would not cry over this. He would remain strong, “You won’t lose the last shred of your Mom though,” Evan gave Tommy a squeeze, “She lives inside you. And you will always have her memory. Jeremy is a reminder of those memories but he’s just a thing.”

     “I know,” Tommy said, “Doesn’t make it less painful that I’ll lose him. Did you know that he’s the reason I don’t have nightmares all the time?”

     “You believe that your stuffed crow stops nightmares?” Evan sounded, “But my belief that I was cursed by a dead cowboy was silly?”

     “Oh, leave me alone,” Tommy playfully elbowed Evan, “I have my own beliefs just like you. I don’t believe in curses, but I’ve never had a nightmare so long as I have Jeremy with me. You’ve experienced my nightmares.”

     Tommy remembered when he was staying over at Evan’s place a few months ago. He felt he had his nightmares under control. He was very wrong. He had been having a flashback to his time in Iraq, he had joined the military and was working as a helicopter pilot, one of those big troop carrier types. They were flying over the desert when out of nowhere, someone fired a missile at them. Tommy saw it coming but not in time and the back of the chopper had been hit. He did everything he could to get them down safely, but they ended up crashing no matter what Tommy did. Six men died on impact. They were nowhere near a city or town. It took them 3 days to find their way back. Tommy had woken up screaming that night. Evan was freaking out about what was happening. He had no idea the PTSD that Tommy was suppressing every day, “I know,” Evan replied, continuing to hold him.

     “Lets just get some sleep,” Tommy said. He was exhausted from having to remember so many things he’s been trying so hard to keep down.

***

     Tommy was at Evan’s loft, laying in bed, waiting for Evan to finish up in the bathroom. He was ready for bed, laying in just his boxers, nothing else on. He preferred to sleep like this when at Evan’s loft. Evan kept the temperature up higher than Tommy did at his house, so it was always far too warm for him in the loft. Hot air rising and all that. Evan came out of the bathroom, dressed only in his underwear as well, and crawled into bed, “I got you something,” Evan said as he leaned over the bed to grab something from the side. Tommy was confused, “Since you don’t have Jeremy Crow while over here, I wanted you to have something to hold, maybe to keep the dreams at bay,” Evan pulled up a penguin, the size of Jeremy.

     Tommy reached out to take it from Evan. He had tears in his eyes. This was the first time someone had actually not mocked him for having Jeremy. The fact that Evan had taken the time to go out, find this penguin, just for Tommy to sleep with so he didn’t wake up screaming, which meant something to Tommy, “Evan,” was all he could manage to get out as his throat constricted as he wanted to cry.

     “He doesn’t have a name yet,” Evan replied, “I figured that you would want to name him yourself. I don’t know any good penguin movies besides Happy Feet. So, I will leave naming him to you,” Evan continued, “And if he works, would you allow me to take Jeremy to someone I found? After you showed me Jeremy, I started falling down a research hole.”

     Tommy was just staring at the penguin while Evan spoke, barely hearing what he was saying. Tommy at this moment knew that Evan was the one. The one to spend the rest of his life with. He just didn’t know how to broach the subject now. They had only been back together for three weeks, “Sorry what?”

     “I was asking if I could take Jeremy to a repair shop I found online,” Evan repeated. Tommy leaned into Evan, just staring at this new penguin, “He’s got a great online presence, lots of five star reviews on Google. I figured we could make Jeremy last awhile longer if we took him in for some repairs.”

     Tommy nodded his head absently at that, “Sounds good,” He said.

     “You seem a little out of it,” Evan asked, “Something wrong?”

     “Not really,” Tommy replied, “I’ve never had someone care about me so much. Usually, it was open mockery if anyone actually saw Jeremy. You are the first person who actually cared about me enough to not only not mock me about my crow that I sleep with, but you went out of your way to get something so that I could sleep well at your place as well.”

     “Well, you are important to me,” Evan said, “I wouldn’t have blurted out about moving in together all those months ago if I didn’t mean it. I want you to feel like you are at home here as well until the day we do decide to take the next steps.”

     Now it was Tommy’s turn to blurt things out. He shouldn’t have but he couldn’t help himself. He felt so complete now with Evan, knowing about his nightmares, how to help with them, “I love you,” Tommy said turning his head to face Evan, “I love you more than anything in this world. You are the first person who has ever taken the time to understand me. I want you to be my last.”

     Tommy watched as Evan was taken aback by his statement for a brief second, “I didn’t expect that,” a smile broke out over Evan’s face, “I love you too you fool. I figured that out months ago when I asked you to move in.”

     “We both agreed we were idiots,” Tommy said as he brought the penguin in for a tight hug. He felt similar to Jeremy, but softer, “But yes you can take Jeremy in for repairs, but only because I have Hubie here.”

     “Hubie?” Evan asked about the name.

     Tommy smiled, “Yes Hubie. I’m a child of the 80’s and 90’s. I watched a lot of Don Bluth movies. There was one about penguins and the main character is named Hubie. So, it fits.”

     “You’ll have to show me the movies that you get your names from one of these days,” Evan said, “But now lets get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

     Tommy turned on his side, letting Evan take the Big Spoon position, holding Hubie close. A content sigh left his body as he felt this soft penguin in his arms, and Evan’s arms pulling him close. This was the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

***

Note: So yeah, I admit that I still have stuffed animals. I have the stuffed Mickey Mouse I had since I as a child still in my bedroom. I also have a stuffed Penguin I sleep with named Mr. Pickles. Just something I need to sleep. If I don’t have one of them, I can’t sleep well. And yes, I am actually a 40 year old man who sleeps with a stuffed penguin. Hate all you want but you won’t change me. For the record, Jeremy Crow came from The Secret of NIMH, and Hubie the Penguin is from The Pebble and the Penguin. Both Don Bluth movies.

[ihfmseatsoch]

Hii, I don't know if you do requests but could we get Jimmy x sibling reader who, as teenagers/young adults do, decide to sexually experiment... but with each other? Preferably not full on non-con but as dubious or wild as you want. 🙏 Danke.

eeep i love this req... this is the quickest ive ever written a fic because i usually procrastinate so much 😭 brother jimmy just does smth to me.. i hope this is decent :p

—

older brother!Jimmy Zare x younger sibling!reader

gender neutral reader, genitals aren't clearly defined

genre: smut, dark fic

word count: 1.8k

warnings/content: dead dove, yours and jimmy's ages aren't explicitly specified but youre referred to as teenagers, incest, creampie, mention of parental abuse, codependency, you lose your virginity to each other, (how sweet ^_^) jimmy's a perv and an asshole ofc

Jimmy was annoying, as older brothers tend to be. You two would always bicker about things that didn't even matter in the long run. Ever since you were kids, he'd pick on you, stick gum in your hair, wrestle you to the ground and punch you in the back of the head; Normal sibling behavior.

Well, at least to you two, it was just how family treated each other. You shared the same abusive shithead of a father, after all. That's the one thing you had in common always brought you together in the end.

When Jimmy and your dad got in a fight and he'd stomp his way into his room, slamming the door behind him so hard you feared the hinges would break clean off, you'd always come and check on him. See if there were any fresh wounds you needed to tend to. He was still your brother after all, no matter how much he could infuriate you.

He'd rather eat dirt and glass mixed together and wash it down with a glass of gasoline than admit that he needed you. Needed your late night talks, bitching to eachother about life. Needed those moments where you'd pass a cigarette back and forth on the front porch at sunset, listening to the neighbors old dog yap at a squirrel across the chain link fence that caged him in his yard.

He needed you to keep him in check whenever he would slip into a depressive episode. Give him the whole, "Yeah, life sucks, but you don't need to kill yourself about it" pep talk.

In fact, the only reason you've stuck around is for Jimmy. If he wasn't born, you would've stolen your dad's truck, wallet, and drove seven states away. But the universe gave you an unstable older brother, and you'd rather not come home to see him dead. You kept him alive, and he was your responsibility.

Codependency combined with teenage hormones isn't a good mix, because that means you'll do anything for him, even at the expense of your dignity. You aren't stupid, you know he's bullshitting you when he walks into your room while you're half naked, claiming it was accidental, and that he was just looking for something which wasn't in your room to begin with. You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your body when you're wearing a tight fitting shirt, and then promptly excuses himself to his room. The walls between your room and his are thin, so you don't miss the sound of his groans and heavy breathing either.

What kind of little sibling would you be if you didn't help him out a little? Gotta give him some sort of practice for the future, don't you? Your poor big brother, all pent up and aching, puberty not helping to alleviate his constant horniness. And in all honesty, you haven't been able to get yourself off properly in a good while.

So one night, you go into his room without a word, his hand already reaching for his bedside drawer, which you already know contains porno mags he shoplifted from the gas station down the street. With an eye roll and that all too familiar glare of annoyance, he speaks, "Don't you ever fuckin' knock? Jesus..."

You pay no mind to his attitude. You're not here to pick a fight. In fact, he'll be grateful for your presence soon enough. "Am I not allowed to hang out with my brother?" You can't hold back your grin at your own teasing, which aggravates him further. "Not if you don't need anything. Get out."

Ignoring him once again, you approach him and sit right beside him on the bed. "Chill. I just wanted to ask you something." His eyes drift down your body, like they've done so many times before. You're intentionally wearing the shirt he likes. The one that gets him hot and bothered. Secretly, you're thrilled he noticed.

Jimmy stays silent, awaiting the question that's so imperative that you postponed his jerk off session.

"Have you ever fucked anyone before?"

You can hardly believe the words coming from your own mouth, and neither can he, his eyes widening with an indescribable emotion. Disgust? Discomfort? Bafflement? All three?

"What the fuck?" He scoffs, scooting away from you, but you don't allow him to escape that easily. You immediately get right back to your original distance.

"Have you?" You ask again, persistent as ever. He groans, covering his face in embarrassment.

"You're fucked up, you know that? Why the hell do you wanna know?"

"Because I'm tired of hearing you jerk off all the time. You obviously don't have anyone to fuck, or you wouldn't need those magazines to get off." You call him out, and it's clear your words ring truth, because he becomes increasingly flustered.

"Okay, what's your fuckin' point? You come in here to call me a virgin loser or somethin'?" He huffs, nudging you away as you draw yourself in closer. You grab his wrist to stop him from putting any sort of space between the two of you.

"Not this time, no. I actually wanna help you out." Your offer hangs in the air for a moment. He's speechless for the first time in his life.

"I've seen how you look at me. Don't try to deny anything. You're a teenage boy, I get it. It's fine." You break the tense silence between you by rambling. You actually feel a bit nervous now. What if he kicks you out of his room? What if you permanently made everything weird between the two of you?

"...And how are you gonna 'help' me, huh?" He still has that irritated edge to his tone, yet he's clearly intrigued. You decide to ease him up a bit. Test the waters, so to speak. Your hand finds it's way to his inner thigh, the outline of his cock already visible through his sweatpants.

"How do you want me to help you?"

—

And that's how you found yourself with his cock in your mouth, giving him his first blowjob. He's bigger than you expected, but as a devoted sibling, you force yourself to take it. You've gotta get some practice too, learn how to suppress your gag reflex. What better way to do that than suck your big brother off?

"Fuck— shit, you fuckin'... You're such a fucking whore. You like choking on your brother's dick, huh? You're a sick little bitch, you know that?" He grunts, degrading you for your actions like he didn't beat his dick fantasizing about this exact scenario several times. You simply hum in response. It's all you can do with your mouth full. You wouldn't consider yourself sick; just a thoughtful younger sibling.

It doesn't take long for Jimmy to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your mouth off his cock, breathing stuttering as he attempts to calm himself down. He was getting close already. That alone makes you feel an immense sense of pride.

Jimmy grabs you and flips you over to your stomach with surprising ease, eliciting a yelp from you at his sudden manhandling. Greedy hands pull your shorts down to reveal your ass, a husky groan leaving his throat at the sight. "Jesus, ain't I a lucky bastard... havin' a little slut for a sibling. A slut with the hottest body I've ever fuckin' seen, no less."

He really has won the sibling lottery hasn't he?

You wince as he slips the head of his cock into your hole, losing your virginity along with him. You never expected your first time to be like this, not that you were expecting something all that special, either. Actually, you anticipated mediocre sex with some acceptably attractive guy named Kyle or Liam. This is marginally better, because at least Jimmy has a big dick.

And he's cute, but you wouldn't tell him that.

Jimmy lets out a deep, gutteral noise as he stretches your virgin hole around him, the feeling of your warm, gummy insides even better than he imagined. "Sh– Shit, you're tight. Gonna cut off my fuckin' circulation." He says with a strained groan, gripping your hips for support as he hovers over your body. He eventually inches his way in, balls deep inside of you, and god, can you feel it. All of him, all the way to your stomach. Sibling bonding has never felt this good.

"Ghh– fuck, you're big, Jim." You cover your mouth to suppress your own noises out of the fear that your father would hear you two. Although, it's probably a futile effort. Jimmy's bedframe is the squeakiest thing on the Earth after a lifetime of sleeping on it. All you can do is pray your dear ol' dad is passed out drunk on the couch again.

"Mhm." He agrees with your statement, his cockiness making you want to take it back, but before you can think of a retort, he thrusts, slow and experimental, causing you to lose your train of thought. A moan involuntarily leaves your lips. Jesus, how is he getting his cock to rub you in all the right places?

His gentle pace doesn't last very long, because soon enough, he's rutting into you in a way you can only describe as animalistic, the sound of his balls slapping against you filling the room, along with the string of grunts, growls, and curse words muttered under his breath. You bite down on his blanket, the material thick enough to keep you quiet as whimpering moans escape your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hole clenching around him whenever he hits a particularly pleasurable spot.

"God, if you keep squeezing me like that..." He trails off, sentence devolving into uneven breaths.

"Mmh– Yeah? I feel that good, huh?" You grin, eyes half lidded and already drunk off his dick, proud of yourself for making your big brother almost cum so quickly. Twice. Jimmy scoffs, rolling his eyes at your arrogance.

"Don't let it get to your head." He mutters. You still manage to annoy him when he's fucking you senseless.

You absolutely do let it get to your head when he cums, and an uncharacteristic whimper rips from deep inside his chest as he spills a massive, thick load inside your hole. You feel every ounce of the warm fluid filling you to the brim. Your own orgasm hits you, the hot wave of pleasure that washes over you like nothing you've ever experienced.

Jimmy collapses on top of you, sweaty chest pressed against your back. He's pretty lanky, so thankfully it's not enough weight to crush your lungs. After a minute of catching his breath, he sits up, and you follow suit. While he's slipping his boxers and old tank top with several ugly holes in the fabric back on, he says, "I'm gonna go smoke. You comin' with me?"

You would laugh at the absurdity of his offer if he didn't just exhaust you by pounding your guts. So after you clean yourself up and get dressed you follow him outside, where the sun is setting and the neighbors dog is just as irritating as ever.

[cameoamalthea]

Women’s sexualities are repressed. Women can be killed for their sexualities, for saying yes or saying no. From honor killings to men killing women who rejected them. It is not safe to be a woman and have sexual agency. In real life, abuse is when someone who you should be able to trust hurts you. When you’re not safe when you should be safe.

Dark fantasies invert that. You are safe when you should not be safe. You are not hurt despite being with someone who you do not trust.

A dragon comes to swallow you whole and you despair only to find it is here to protect you. To love you. That you walk through fire unburned because in this fantasy fire belongs to you, anything and anyone can love you because that is your gift, to be loved.

Living in a world where you know those who claim to love you can hurt you, can kill you, that women all the time are killed by someone they thought loved them, someone normal and kind, we cope with a fantasy of a world where no one will hurt us, we will be loved, even by monsters. Safe even in the belly of the beast.

my instagram explore page loves showing me those like erotic dark romance novel tiktoks and i really have to wonder: why do all these straight women desperately want to fuck a mafia boss

[exhelluvafan]

That YouTuber ayylmaotv (who defends Vivz with his life sometimes) pointed out that Belphegor has symptoms akin to narcolepsy, a condition characterised by an overwhelming urge to sleep, as we see her exhibit in Mastermind. Belphegor is the Sin of Sloth. Labelling symptoms of narcolepsy, a condition that is an uncontrollable disability, to sloth, which is laziness and a choice, and also associating it with sin… classic Vivz L I had to point out (as someone with the same symptoms)

Once again, the Viv fandom and Viv herself show blatant disregard for any tact about real life medical conditions, being ableist in some ways by consequence, and water is wet.

And hey, Anon, remember that she also unironically excused Stolas' shitty behaviors with depression canonically speaking, so she already has a history of doing this just to make it a "quirky" trait of them while not actually addressing it like it actually is: a medical situation, and as a depressed individual myself, I find the portrayal of depression through Stolas as downright offensive and tone deaf, since he ISN'T depressed in the slightest, he's only sad that consequences are catching up to him and the fact that his rape victim doesn't reciprocate the imaginary love he created on his head.

< TW: self-harm and depressive symptoms under the cut >

Now, I'll list a few symptoms that usually follow along with patients of depression:

Do bed rotting

Not have enough energy to even move from bed.

Overfeed or underfeed himself, resulting in a changing body weight.

Practice self-harm (can be any, from cuts, burns or such, down to drug abuse, and it isn't exclusive to depressed people, but the risk is massively increased)

Have constant intrusive thoughts.

Have depressive episodes.

Self-isolate himself quite often.

Now, tell me, does Stolas display any of those symptoms? Exactly, he doesn't! The only thing that he displays is ONLY sadness, NO depression, and also, reminder, depression is different to all people, but one denominator is constant: your mind is actively attacking YOU no matter what, and with that, I can safely say that Stolas isn't really depressed, he's "depressed" whenever it's convenient for him and the plot, or straight up sad but not depressed, and the "Happy Pills" (that's how they referred to antidepressants in universe by the way, utterly baffling) are just a cheap copout to make Stolas seem depressed at first glance, when in reality, Stolas isn't depressed AT ALL.

[cherryblooom]

Enchanted — OP81 [introduction]

Summary: After being forced of moving mid-year of school, the least thing you expected was getting a crush in a cute boy who loves karting and actually being corresponded. I mean, you have always wanted to have a romance like the books but forgot all the struggles and challenges that comes with it.

Pairing: Teen!Oscar Piastri x Teen!Reader

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Warnings: period shaming, bullying, reader has some questionable thoughts and self-contempt, animal abuse (no details). mostly narration.

Author note: This is my very first work ever, please be nice and reblog if you liked it!

Everything felt very surreal. You can feel your eyes stinging, fighting not to let out those tears that you had been holding in since before you left the house.

There wasn't much traffic, but you weren't sure if that was a good thing or if you just wanted to delay the impossible. You knew it was necessary but couldn't help feeling guilty for your parents for having to move across the country and leave everything they knew behind. Your father had lived his entire life working and building his company from scratch and thanks to endless nights, you and your mother were just beginning to see the fruits of his hard work, of course, before all the shitshow happened. Your parents had done everything they could to make you understand that their anger was not your fault and not directed towards you, it was actually the opposite, but you couldn't help feeling resentful and like a freaking failure.

You played with the apps on your phone in a failed attempt to distract yourself but couldn't help to grimace when you opened the Instagram app and saw your now private profile. You followed some famous people but you only had 10 followers as all the others were deleted by your mother.

''I'm sorry for making you move and leave everything behind. Dad, the company...''

''Honey, no. Stop it!'' your father replied after lowering the volume of the radio while your mother, who was in the passenger seat next to him, turned around with a look of concern. ''We already talked about it, you're not guilty of what happened and we're not angry at you. We should have protected you and been there for you but we realized it too late but I promise you that we are going to leave all this in the past and although you don't want to believe it now, we love you and we always will.'' She was right, you couldn't believe her. Your mind was going down a somewhat dark path and you were sure that if your mother had even the slightest idea of what was going on in your head, she wouldn't hesitate to send you to a psychologist. ''Plus, you will love the new house! It has a beautiful patio and a pool where you can practice in case you want to join the swimming team at your new school.’’ She told you slightly excited, trying to pass on the feeling to you but you didn't have the heart to tell her that it wouldn't be possible, so you just nodded and looked out the window again.

You could feel your mother's gaze on you, perhaps waiting for an answer or even a smile but you didn't have the energy to do it or even fake it.

You had become what they call a ''bookworm''. Despite having access to technology and internet, you had developed a great love and appreciation for physical books and the smell of a new book excited you more than what is perhaps ''normal'' but thanks to the fact that apparently not many people shared the sentiment, the library was empty most of the time (at least the one located in the junior wing of the school, you didn't know about the one in the senior wing, but you have heard that it has like three floors and a private cafeteria).

You were reading one of your favorite books again and even though you practically knew the story by heart, you couldn’t stop laughing and feeling your heart flutter at the thought of how it would feel to be loved like that. Would you ever be able to find someone who would love and admire you just for being you? Just for existing? You had a love/hate thing for romance books. You read about how the characters were loved, cared for, how they could let go and turn their brains off to just…be. Exist. You knew you had just turned 14 and that according to your parents and the logical part of your brain, you have a whole life waiting ahead of you, but you can’t imagine that someone could love you like that. You couldn’t even make friends, how the hell are you going out to dates? No idea, but you didn’t want to think about it and fall down that rabbit hole. You turned the page, excited as you were only about 10 pages away from your favorite part but decided to leave it for later to read in the comfort of your room.

The alarm distracted you from your book and with it, you knew that you only had 10 minutes left of lunch (you weren't a big fan of the cafeteria, lots of people and noise so the library was always a good choice) and that you had to go to the biology lab, not forgetting to stop by your locker to look for the essay that you have to hand in today. When you reached for your backpack, you felt a strange tug in your stomach that you didn't know how to describe, you had never felt anything like it before, so you were quite confused, but you ignored it since you knew you didn't have much time left.

Then you saw him. A boy your age was entering the library but you turned around facing away from him, so he was unable see you. You barely saw him for a few seconds but boy, was he cute. Is this what you always read about? You didn't even know the boy's name, but you noticed his short brown hair, his rosy cheeks and how tall he was. Was this your first crush? It’s dumb! You watched him for a few seconds but apparently that was enough to make you fantasize what it would be like to talk to him or what his name would be, if he was nice or a jerk like the rest of the boys in your class (which would be a bummer). All of the other girls in your class have no problem talking to boys or making friends in general but here you are, covering your face with your hair so the cute boy you saw for two seconds doesn’t notice your presence.

You walked out of the library with your coat hanging on your backpack, it wasn’t cold so you didn’t need it at the moment. You had 5 minutes before Biology started so you headed to your locker and you always walked close to the walls, that way you drew as little attention as possible. Apparently, old habits die hard. Up until now, you had done a pretty good job of being a regular girl and not drawing attention to yourself. The girls in your class dangerously reminded you of the girl responsible for you having to move and change schools mid-year and the boys in your class are jerks, is the best way you can describe them. There was no way you wanted to run into any of them. You wake up, go to school, go home, do your homework and then go to bed. Same routine, every day. You watched on social media as your other classmates went out, had fun, went to the mall, bought makeup and clothes, posted photos and videos in groups, laughing, and as much as you wished you didn't care, you felt envious. Why can't you be like that? Why do you have to be the little weirdo who always goes unnoticed, and no one pays attention to?

You had to take one more turn to get to your locker when you heard giggles behind you. You turned your head slightly and saw two boys who were a grade above pointing at you and laughing; your chest started to hurt and you felt like there wasn't enough air to breathe. Anxiety, you felt anxious. You ran to your locker as the laughter intensified behind you and you just knew that you were the reason for it. Suddenly, you felt that same tug at the bottom of your belly.

''Oh no, no, no, please don't...'' you whispered almost on the verge of tears. You felt something hit your head and then fall to the ground. You wanted to die when you looked down and saw a sanitary pad that someone had thrown at your head which made the laughter louder.

''Oh no, the weirdo is bleeding out! I hope she has another skirt because yikes.''

''Hey! You're staining the floor, how fucking disgusting!''

''If I was the janitor, I'd make her clean it up. How disgusting.''

''Hey, honestly, how did you not notice? Didn't you feel your vagina wet or smelly or shit? Fuck, I have to get my book, but my locker is next to hers, imagine if it smells. That will be so gross!''

''In case you prefer to put things inside rather than a pad, weirdo'' Someone had thrown two tampons at your head, one of which had gotten tangled in your curls. At this point, you were already sobbing, not being able to hold back the tears and humiliated, all the while you were still turning your back on everyone with the locker open, with fear and shame eating you away.

Suddenly, you felt someone's presence which brought you out of the little dazed status.

''Honey, come on, I'm going to take you to the infirmary. Come on, you're okay, let's go.'' You could tell by the softness of the voice that it was a woman. She was the school's duty nurse. Apparently, someone was kind enough to call her while the others were scoffing. You let yourself be guide towards the infirmary and could distantly hear the nurse demanding them to stop laughing. At this point, you didn't care anymore, you just wanted to get to your bed and cry, that's all.

5 Months Later

You were in the south courtyard of the school, the farthest of all, with your third sketchbook finishing what would be your second attempt at drawing your mother. It would soon be her birthday and although you had already bought her a gift at the mall, you wanted to give her something that only you could do. Besides, she was the number 1 fan of your drawings and she bragged to her friends that her daughter was a great artist. Sometimes it embarrassed you but at the same time you felt good knowing that you had someone on your side, supporting you. With each stroke, you felt your confidence increase and, you had even opened an Instagram’s account for your drawings, and you felt good knowing that there were people who recognized your talent and encouraged you to continue learning, even if they were strangers. Maybe you were not totally alone.

You felt stuck. You couldn’t draw the hands, and with each attempt you only felt like you were screwing up more. Before you got more frustrated, you decided to take a break and continue in the comfort of your bed after eating. When you were about to start packing your things, your notebook fell open right on the last page that always made you blush. The boy from the library, who you now know also plays on the school soccer team (not that you’re stalking him at all) was looking back at you in an unfinished drawing in your sketchbook. You had only seen him passing by the halls and you couldn’t admit out loud that you unconsciously tried to match your schedule with his, like when he had his sports class. Oscar, that was his name, and you knew it thanks to the fact that he was apparently the star in the games and his name was always shouted by the people in the audience. Apart from seeing him in sports class, you didn't get the chance to see him much since he was in a grade above yours.

It was Tuesday, 3:40 PM according to the alarm you had set. School had ended 10 minutes ago but the alarm reminded you that in 5 minutes the soccer practice, Oscar's soccer practice, would start. Pathetic? Yes, but it wasn't a crime to want to appreciate your crush from afar, right?

Before you could leave the courtyard, you saw out of the corner of your eye a cardboard box which was dirty and you swore that it moved for a second. It looked like trash, but it couldn't be since the school has a zero-tolerance policy regarding that and you can literally end up suspended for throwing trash outside the trash bin. They were really strict about that. You approached it with some caution and jumped a little in shock when you saw that it did move and that it wasn't part of your imagination. Your heart stopped when you heard a small sound...a kitten? You approached more confidently, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw that the box didn't have any holes in it and was in fact sealed with many pieces of tape.

In a hurry, you threw your backpack on the floor and took out your scissors to cut the tape. You could feel the adrenaline and fear of what you might find inside if it turned out to be exactly what you thought but still, you carefully but firmly cut the tape. If they turned out to be kittens, you were going to start crying. You took a deep breath and opened it, feeling your eyes water. There were 4 kittens that looked like they couldn't be more than a few weeks old. One was completely white; another was almost completely black but with a few white spots while the last two were a combination of orange and white. One of the orange kittens, unlike its siblings, wasn't meowing and was just lying there barely breathing. You felt your heart break. They looked cold and hungry, so tiny and defenseless. You have always been a cat person, kittens being your weak point. Quickly, you grabbed your backpack, hooking it on your shoulders so you could carry the box without dropping it and you couldn’t run but did your best to walk fast. When you got to the school gate, you called your mom to come pick you up telling her about the box you found and that you wanted to take them to the vet. Your mom knew there was no way you were going to leave them abandoned after finding them so after 10 minutes you were already on your way to the vet with four beautiful kittens with you.

---------

Your Instagram account dedicated to your drawings has gained 1,000 followers, which was a great achievement for you, but you decided to take that opportunity to post that you had 3 kittens up for adoption. It destroyed you knowing that you couldn't keep the 4 kittens, but your parents had already let you keep Cotton (cliche because the kitten was completely white, you knew it, but you didn't care).

You were appalled while looking at your notifications. Oscar. Yes, that Oscar was messaging you and after checking a little more you realized that he had been following you for a while and you hadn't even noticed. You could feel your cheeks turning red, but you took a breath and remembered that he was only doing that because he wanted to adopt a kitten, you were of zero importance.

my_cherryblossom

Liked by Oscar_piastri and 57 others

A few weeks ago I found a box sealed with tape that contained 4 kittens inside. It's obvious that the intention of whoever put them there was for them not to survive but I found them just in time. Sadly, I can only keep one, which is why I am giving up the other 3 for adoption! They are so cute and playful.

If you're interested, write me.

P.S. These kittens are my life so if you give me weird vibes, I won't give you one lol

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Radio Check: As mentioned above, this is just the first part of what I hope will be a series telling Oscar x Reade's story. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know! Please Reblog and like!

[lieslab]

The house is white and the lawn is dead

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Hyunjin X gn reader

Summary: You're struggling with a past sibling relationship when Hyunjin takes notice.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.4K

Domestic abuse resources

Trigger warning: Insecurities, anxiety, domestic abuse, verbal abuse, descriptions of injuries from physical abuse, and grieving sibling-related trauma.

A/N: This is a request from quite a while ago and I hope you know that you deserved so much better than what you dealt with. I hope this hits the mark and I hope you have a good holiday that's full of love and appreciation. If nobody else is going to tell you, I will. I appreciate you and thank you for sticking around, even though you've fought internal silent battles <3

_ _ _

Australia was much warmer than you expected. The deep blue sky layered with cotton clouds and even though it was December, the temperatures were still pretty warm. You could get away with wearing a t-shirt and shorts without much of an issue. 

The Stray Kids members were on tour and since you and Hyunjin were a thing, you were offered an invite. You declined in the beginning, but Hyunjin begged and pleaded, even going as far as getting down on his knees and bowing to you. With his head level with the tip of your toes, he patted the top of your bare feet and said all the right words. 

When you finally agreed, he picked you up and swung you around. Laughter fell from your lips and he grinned. “We’re going to have so much fun! Just you wait! You’re going to love Australia, it’s my second home!” 

That was a few weeks ago and here you were now. Your fingers curled against Hyunjin’s hands as the two of you walked in the direction of the beach. Felix and Chan had been raving about the water. Salt has been in their bloodstream since birth. 

Growing up near the azure colored water, their families often took them to beaches to cool off. Beneath the scorching sun, the warm water provided much needed relief. The memories of their youth-filled days stuck to the sides of their brains. Coming back to the Pacific Ocean, it was finally like coming back home. 

The rest of the band members had scattered off in different directions. Minho and Han ventured towards a less noisy area of the beach. Seungmin and Jeongin padded after them. Changbin screeched, stuck his hands up, and took off towards the rolling waves. 

Beside you, Hyunjin chuckled and shook his head. “We have our own beaches and yet, it’s like he’s never seen one before.” 

“It’s the Pacific Ocean,” you joked, “that makes it special.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

You watched Changbin rush the waves and dive in head-first. The smile on your face began to disappear when you heard a scream from your right. Your head whipped over and it was there that you found Chan’s younger sister running away from him. 

“Get back here!” Chan yelled. He propelled after her with his arms outstretched. His bare feet kicked up sand as he chased her. Her laughter mixed with the sound of waves. “Hannah, get back here!” 

Felix’s own sisters shared a mischievous glance. The older one began to grin and when Felix realized it, his eyes widened. “Oh no, wait a minute, please don’t-” 

“You better start running for your life.” 

He rushed around and took off sprinting. “Bang Chan! Help me! Hyung, save me! Save me!” 

His sisters laughed and took off after him. Chan glanced over his shoulder and when he did, his own sister took advantage of this. She shifted directions and began to sprint back after him. 

What started as a simple joy, turned into a complex game of cat and mouse. The three girls ran after Felix and Chan while sharing giggles. Olivia, Rachel, and Hannah had been close for a while. It was easy to share the longing and loneliness of missing their brothers. 

Hannah and Chan had a younger brother, but he wasn’t the same as having an older brother. Hannah grew up with her older brother and then he disappeared. It was difficult to be so young and fathom that your older brother was hundreds of miles away. 

For Olivia and Rachel, it was the same way. Felix was the middle child and smothered with love and taunts. As the only brother, it was foreign to have him there all the time and then disappear to follow his dreams. 

Each sibling had their own lives and their own goals. Despite that, when they all visited with each other, they tried to make as many memories as possible. Who knew when the next visit would be. 

Your fingers were still entangled with Hyunjin’s hand while you watched them. Changbin realized his band members were being chased by their siblings and he gasped. He sprinted out of the waist-high water and rushed towards them. 

“Felix! Channie-hyung! Hold on! I’m coming!” 

Hyunjin’s fingers untangled from yours and he reached down to get his phone. He wanted to capture this moment and send it to the guys later. This was something they’d be able to look back on and laugh about. 

Too distracted by capturing the moment, he didn’t realize you walked away from him. You turned your back and began to head away from the laughter and fun. Your arms wrapped around your torso and you sucked in a deep breath. 

You had an older brother once upon a time too. Unfortunately, your time together wasn’t remembered with fond conversations and melodic laughter. Instead, when you thought back upon it, you remembered the worst parts. 

You remembered the harsh insults that were spat at you. As if you weren’t formed in the same womb and shared the same half of your parents. Words stung, but being backhanded and knocked to the floor hurt much worse. 

Once upon a time, you had a brother that you loved more than anything, but as the formative years began to progress, so did his hatred for you. What you did, you didn’t know, but you knew the harshness of a man. 

The betrayal of blood that tastes like iron. Bright crimson staining your cracked open bottom lip. It’s a plum purple and a darkening blue. A touch of brown that’s sprouting a rotten yellow amongst the edges. 

You asked that question over and over and over again. He moved out months ago, but the hurt still lingered. That harshness stapled to your soul and each time you tried to peel it back, to remind yourself that you deserved better, the rusty staples still clung. You hadn’t figured out how to feel worth it yet. 

When you looked into Hyunjin’s dark eyes, sometimes there was a tug on your heart. A cupped fear always lingered deep down. Would he eventually see you as your brother had? Something not worth fighting for? Someone so disposable that it wouldn’t hurt to let go?

Old wounds scabbed over and healed, but the scars never left. When you laid down in your bed and snuggled next to Hyunjin’s warmth, you could still feel the phantom pain every now and then. The way the tangled carpet strands brushed against your bare knees and wore away the top layer of your delicate skin. The pain that shot through your elbow and lingered in your shoulder when you hit the ground. 

Your brother’s untamed anger was uncontrollable. He was a vicious beast that would launch at you any moment. Whether it was verbally or physically, he’d beat you down without a second thought. 

Maybe your parents knew or maybe they just didn’t care. Maybe they too were ashamed and disappointed by the child that they raised. The two of you shared the same womb, but your brother viewed you as if you grew up in a womb of venom. It seeped into your bloodstream along the way and poisoned your entire sense of self. 

He darkened your childhood and the days that should have been full of wonder and entertainment were instead filled with fear and anxiety. Every time you interacted with him, you never knew what lay ahead. The unknown future brought you more anxiety than you ever could have possibly imagined. 

You grew up. You moved out. You lived your own life, but the hurt still lingered. When you tried to go back home, your throat closed up. Your adult body remembered that adolescent fear. Your knees wobbled and tears pricked your eyes. Your brain screamed at you to stop. 

You moved far away and tried to forget, but it was moments like these where you truly struggled. You wanted to be happy. You knew Chan and Felix were good brothers, but there was resentment tucked behind your heart. Why couldn’t your brother be a good brother too? 

Hanging around Hyunjin, you hung out with members of the band too. So many members had siblings and they were decent brothers. Changbin always tried to meet up with his sister to have a meal together every now and then. He always paid for it without complaint. 

When Seungmin went back home to his parents house, his older sister babied him. He swore that he hated it, but deep down, you knew that he appreciated it. He still liked to be cared for. 

Chan and Felix were constantly updated with their siblings. Han liked to taunt and tease his older brother for the fun of it. Jeongin actively liked to find items for his brothers and save them until it was a holiday season or their birthdays. 

Hyunjin and Minho were the only members without siblings. Even without siblings, they didn’t know what it was like to face abuse from them. They didn’t have to worry about coming home from school and facing the wrath of the devil. 

“Are you crying?” 

The sudden voice caused you to open your eyes. In front of you, Hyunjin frowned and studied your face. He reached up with his thumb and gently wiped away a fallen tear. 

You mumbled an apology and stepped back. With a sniffle, you wiped your arm across your eyes. The scent of coconut sunblock hit your nose. Chan wouldn’t let any of you outside without some sort of sun protection. The Australian sun was scorching and you burnt easily. 

“Did something happen?” He reached out and grabbed your arm. Slightly lifting it, he inspected your body for some sort of damage. “Did you fall and get hurt?” 

“No.” You shook your head and pulled away. “I was just thinking about some stuff. It’s kind of stupid, really.” Your eyes went down to the sand and you curled your toes. They dug into the white sand and disappeared. 

“It’s not stupid if it’s causing you to cry.” 

“I was just watching everything down there and needed a moment. Felix and Chan are good brothers. They’re having so much fun down there and I’m happy for them.” 

“But?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I had a brother too, but he wasn’t like that. He was mean and cruel.” You wiped away another forming tear before it fell. “I just wish my brother could have been more like them and less like he really was.” 

“I’m sorry that he wasn’t who you needed him to be.” 

You shrugged and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “It doesn’t really matter. What’s done is done and nothing can change it. Life goes on, the earth keeps spinning, and the sun still shines.” 

You glanced over his shoulder. All three of the guys and the girls were now in the water. They were splashing each other with water. Hannah splashed foamy waves at Chan. He spit the water back out at her and she shrieked. “You jerk!” 

When Felix sent water her way, his own sisters teamed up against him. One disappeared beneath the shallow water while the other distracted him with splashes. He yelped as his ankle was grabbed. Caught off guard, he tipped into the water. Olivia broke the water giggling as Felix flailed with a yell. 

“You know, I didn’t grow up with any siblings, but I met the guys. They might not be related to me through blood, but we’re definitely related through our experiences and our careers.” 

He cautiously reached out an arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. Your head shifted to the side and laid upon his shoulders. He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and didn’t take his eyes off you. 

“If you want them to be, they can be the brothers you never had too. You’re already taken by me, so they already view you as a family member.” 

“Why does it feel like you’re lying to make me feel better?” 

“If you didn’t mean anything to me, I wouldn’t have brought you on this trip. Although we’re not from Australia, it’s special to all of us. Felix and Chan left this place to take chances and follow their dreams. That’s not something that any of us forget about. They left their families to take a huge chance and along the way, they found us.” 

“I wouldn’t have shared this experience with you if I didn’t love you. You can let them in and lean on them if you need to. You’re part of our lives and you help us out if needed. The least that we can do is care about you.” 

You blinked rapidly as your vision blurred. Tears began to fill up as you thought about the moments you shared with the guys. Just this morning, you helped Minho make everyone breakfast. 

The two of you laughed and joked around in the kitchen. When you accidentally cut yourself with a pairing knife while chopping vegetables, he lightly lectured you, cleaned the cut, and bandaged it. 

Once he finished, he showed you the proper way to hold the knife, so you didn’t catch your fingers with the blade. Once he was satisfied and sure you weren’t bleeding through the bandage, he left you, so he could go back to preparing the meat. 

“I don’t think I deserve you all sometimes,” you finally uttered weakly. 

“And at times, I feel the same way about you. So what are you waiting for? Come on!” he held his hand out towards you. “Your brothers are waiting.” 

When you didn’t move quick enough. He grabbed you and tossed you over his shoulder. You shrieked and gripped the back of his shirt. “Hyunjin! What are you-” 

He laughed and hauled you back to the water. “Felix, look what I caught!” He dropped you into the water and you gasped as warmth caught you. “Sick ‘em!” 

“Leave them alone!” Rachel howled. 

The three girls approached you to form a protective shield. Chan, Felix, Changbin, and Hyunjin began splashing the water. You shrieked and ducked behind the girls to take cover. Water splashed in every direction. 

Since Hyunjin was taller, he could see over the girls. When he did, he caught the smile on your face. Despite the rocky waves and their splashing, you were holding up just fine. The aching sadness replaced itself with comfort. 

You fit right in, like the final piece of the missing puzzle. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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Ko-fi

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Something I like to note in my interaction with media is always “am I taking this as education, or inspiration?”

And that’s the important difference I believe.

If your worldview was opened and inspired by AT:LA, if you (assuming you’re a very privileged, sheltered adult I guess) learnt about say revolutions and genocide and imperialism and so on and so forth for the first time from AT;LA and it inspired you to read more articles and more reliable sources of media to gain a proper perspective, grounded in reality? That’s actually pretty great

If you refuse to interact with political content beyond a child’s show, beyond the very simplified representation of censorship in Ba Sing Se, beyond Zuko’s redemption arc/efforts in recovering from abuse, beyond the wipeout of the Airbenders and their culture, then we have a problem

Stories… are fiction, but they can teach a little, not a lot, a kernel of truth, and that is enough to serve their true purpose of inspiration.

Yes there’s such incredible skill in these stories, in Suzanne Collins’ biting and fiery allegory for the Hollywood machine (and reflection of the extremely corrupt class system + political empire of the US), in Princess Mononoke’s sincere heartfelt plea for environmentalism and balance between nature and humanity

But they are not the be all and end all. Miyazaki did not write Howl’s Moving Castle to teach you to lock yourselves out of the wider political environment around you, to passively call for pacifism as bombs are dropped by those you know, nor was it written to encourage you to condemn every leader or war started. It was written to present his perspective and personal anger over the Iraq War, writing a film he “felt would be poorly received in the US” (Wikipedia) Yes the story it’s telling you of pacifism and integrity is important, but as inspiration, it will not and should not be your guide to war. What is important here is what it could lead you to read, hell if you were as enchanted and interested as I was by this movie then it could lead you right back to the context, the reason for it being written. This could then lead you to researching the Iraq war, to learning why Miyazaki felt strongly, to look at further criticisms against the Bush administration.

That’s what it did for me. I didn’t know anything about American politics, but while studying the story for some other reasons (Heroine’s Journey related of course) I noticed why pacifism was an important theme. It wasn’t enough to get me interested, American politics weren’t necessarily linked to me (or at least that’s the default I submitted to thinking) but it opened my mind a bit. Okay huh that’s interesting, keep a note on that

It’s a note that then got added to when I read several Tumblr posts on issues with the Bush administration, then others on America and its founding. It got added to further when I learnt about Israel and Palestine, and then given some emotional, moral context as I learnt of Israel and Palestine and the atrocities occurring there and how many were likening it to what America did in Iraq and Afghanistan (since I really was too young to remember or think critically over them when they were going on)

There’s still so much I don’t know, I’m so young and even younger in my political knowledge.

What’s important is that as I grow the sources of information grow with me. Stories are important for so much, they are empowering and cathartic, a way to challenge you and inspire you, they are an expression, a call to arms, a hug around your shoulders on cold rainy days, but you cannot and should not live on a diet of fairytales and fantasies.

only reading ya or only watching kids shows is tremendously destructive to your ability to create or understand fiction (as any extremely narrow fiction intake is) but also ultimately that is not a super important skill in life or indicative of any deficiency of character

[snattachcanine]

The spike in blood pressure is unbelievable because the sheer amount of cognitive dissonance when talking to these people is ABSOLUTELY ABSURD.

"This is all your generation and belows fault." - you created these problems when I was a child and didn't have a say in politics. You made it so that I had no future before I could even vote.

"Nobody should die." - these people made it so that you can barely afford your insulin, bankrupted your family, and killed multiples of your relatives by denying them care. These people don't care about you and have happily let people you love die and ruined your life. Stop sympathizing with the perpetrator.

"Give up, the world won't change." - I'm sorry you're miserable but if you don't believe caring is worth it then you don't have a say at this table, you are actively sabotaging positive change.

"People will just abuse the system therefore it shouldn't exist." - No, your parent was an abusive scum lord, the vast majority of people just need to eat and you're denying the needs of the masses to punish the few.

"Keep it out of my face." - I exist right in front of you, I can't change a fundamental part of my existence.

"I don't believe people should do XYZ with their body, it's better if we make it so they can't." - A person isn't a slave or dog, you have no say in what they do to their body.