#''i quote whatever the situation demands''

[biitchcakes]

CAPTAIN MARVEL Vol. 10 Iss 20 ┃ CAPTAIN MARVEL Vol. 10 Iss 44

( personals DNI. )

[decolonize-the-left]

Everyone asks what I read and truth be told I learned a lot of politics through experience and listening to Black revolutionaries.

There is nothing- nothing- that I say on my blog that Malcom X or James Baldwin or Frantz Fanon or Thomas Sankara or Frederick Douglass didn't say first (and much more eloquently)

Further, their words have given me the tools to think critically about not just my place, but everyone else's and what we owe each other.

I myself, wouldn't have a Lot of the politics I do had I not been exposed to the ideas they talked about with such knowledge and experience. Whether it was by following activists or looking up things up or learning about them myself, they're influential and I would even say foundational to decolonization and dismantling white supremacy.

My usual recs are Wretched of the Earth and Braiding Sweetgrass, but those are just starters since people just usually ask where to begin.

So I wanted to make this post and for them to be Very Much credited for the following I have and my politics since I don't often mention them.

For example, I talk a lot about how the comfort of the privileged is an obstacle that stems directly from their privilege. How libs who only conditionally support peaceful protests don't understand what's necessary; that challenging the status quo can't be done comfortably and it's never been "peaceful" for the oppressing classes. How it's detrimental to progress to compromise on how we fight for our rights and to have been liberals telling us we demand too much.

Frederick Douglass:

Frantz Fanon:

Privileges multiply and corruption triumphs…Today the vultures are too numerous and too voracious in proportion to the lean spoils of the national wealth. The party, a true instrument of power in the hands of the bourgeoisie, reinforces the machine, and ensures that the people are hemmed in and immobilised.

Thomas Sankara:

Malcom X:

James Baldwin:

In a way, I owe the invitation to the incredible, abysmal, and really cowardly obtuseness of white liberals. Whether in private debate or in public, any attempt I made to explain how the Black Muslim movement came about, and how it has achieved such force, was met with a blankness that revealed the little connection that the liberals' attitudes have with their perceptions or their lives, or even their knowledge—revealed, in fact, that they could deal with the Negro as a symbol or a victim but had no sense of him as a man.

Bonus MLK Jr quote:

Over the last few years many Negroes have felt that their most troublesome adversary was not the obvious bigot of the Ku Klux Klan or the John Birch Society, but the white liberal who is more devoted to “order” than to justice, who prefers tranquillity to equality. In a sense the white liberal has been victimized with some of the same ambivalence that has been a constant part of our national heritage. Even in areas where liberals have great influence— labor unions, schools, churches and politics—the situation of the Negro is not much better than in areas where they are not dominant. This is why many liberals have fallen into the trap of seeing integration in merely aesthetic terms, where a token number of Negroes adds color to a white-dominated power structure."

Whether your medium is a PDF, a book, movie, clips, quotes, podcast, whatever. However you digest info easiest: learn about them and their words. Think about them. Talk about it and process it with friends.

That's how you shape your politics to be similar to the ones you find on my blog.

[satan-plundered-our-oceans]

★。／can i be a hero too?＼。★

ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 1,196

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory

notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)

! this is a repost from my other blog !

‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’

Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.

It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway

‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’

‘The place smells like shit too.’

‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.

‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’

Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.

‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’

[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?

‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’

Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk. 

‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.

She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’

* *

No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!

However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”. 

‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’

Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:

‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’

Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really. 

Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!

Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].

‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’

Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.

‘But why?’

‘’Cause it’s annoying.’

[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins. 

The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon. 

(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)

(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)

For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.

* *

For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school. 

But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow. 

‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’

And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.

He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be? 

Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.

He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras. 

‘Yeah, whatever.’

i really enjoyed writing this!

let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.

[grapementos]

walk away as the door slams

aged up bakugo x reader

cw: heavily! toxic relationships, emotionally abusive (gaslighting, etc.), angst.

pt 2 here.

bakugo isn't the same person he was in high school. he grew into a top five hero and opened his own agency, only to be brutally torn apart by the tabloids.

scandal after scandal, you watched him crack. like glass, he grew more and more fragile each time he was made out to be a monster, an asshole, a douchebag--whatever other name was thrown out there.

each time, you were there to comfort him and stand by his side against every rumor and generalization. still, it scared you as you watched his resolve weaken. it was as if he didn't see the point in being a hero anymore.

then came the headline, the article that had him hanging up his gauntlets in exchange for civilian life. the article had an incriminating photo of him holding up his hand to a child. of course, it was taken out of context; bakugo had merely been guiding the child away from the rubble of the building near them.

however, the media ate it up, and bakugo decided that being a hero wasn't worth the false allegations. he announced his resignation the same day and rid the entire house of hero news.

it broke your heart to see him give up his dream, so you'd tried and failed time and time again to talk him out of it. you even invited midoriya and kirishima to persuade him to become a hero again, but his mind was made.

he'd since picked up a new, low-brow job that kept him out of the public eye. with that, unfortunately, came stress regarding bills, grocery shopping, and necessary budget cuts. it was a huge adjustment, one that led to frequent arguments.

you worked from home, so you were able to keep it clean and cook meals for the most part. you tried so hard to keep your home a place where the two of you could coexist happily, but he always came home with an unfulfilled look in his eyes.

truth be told, you were exhausted, but bringing it up just made bakugo frustrated, so you avoided the subject. instead, you'd ask him about work, only to be brushed off.

it hurt.

"katsuki," you called from your spot at the table, finishing up some work, "what do you want to eat tonight?"

"dunno." he grunted, walking out of your shared bedroom.

"right. so helpful." you sighed, looking at your laptop once more, "do you have a general idea? or do you want to cook?"

"i just got home from an 8-hour shift." he looked at you like you were dumb, eyes narrowed, "can you lay off with the million questions?"

"it's a simple question. i need to know if i have to defrost anything." you shut your laptop a little harder than necessary, "i work too, you know."

he laughed bitterly but didn't say anything.

"what?" you demanded, hands on your hips.

"oh, nothing. just thought it was funny, is all."

"what's so damn funny?"

"you, sitting on a laptop all day. 'working'," he used air-quotes, opening the cupboards.

"really? you wanna go there?" you closed the cupboard he was looking in, cheeks flushed with frustration.

he stared at you, jaw clenched, "can you move?"

"can you stop being so damn mean?"

"god, i'm not being mean." he shook his head and opted for digging through the fridge instead, "y'just being too damn sensitive."

you took in a deep breath, red hot anger beginning to boil up in your gut and through your hands all the way down to your fingers.

"stop digging through the fridge when i'm trying to talk to you, please."

he didn't even spare you a glance, pulling out the last cold water bottle.

"katuski." you demanded, louder.

"my god, what?" he slammed the fridge closed, leaning back on the counter, "as if i don't get nagged enough by my boss."

"i'm not nagging you. i'm," you stammered, trying not to escalate the situation into an argument, "i'm trying to see what you want for dinner. that's all."

"just make whatever. i'm not hungry anyways." he tossed the plastic bottle into the trash, plopping down at the table.

you rubbed your temples, trying so hard to maintain your calm, "okay."

-

the two of you were sat across each other at the kitchen table. you ate something quick you'd whipped up, finally breaking the silence, "they're considering me for a promotion. it's a pretty significant payraise, and i think i--"

"god, are you fuckin' kidding me?" he interrupted, eyes suddenly aflame.

"what?" you cocked your head, confused at his sudden irritation.

"you just love rubbing that shit in my face, huh? you're always talking about how you get paid more than i do, how work is so great, and now this? great job, breadwinner."

"katsuki, we're partners, we both contribute to this household no matter what. i'm not the... breadwinner." you insisted, pain blooming in your chest, "i thought you'd be happy for me."

"like you were so happy for me to quit that hero gig? so you can get all the glory of supporting us?"

"is that really what you think?" you stood, not able to control the flames of anger licking at your chest, "katsuki, you know damn well i gave my all trying to talk you into staying a hero."

"bullshit. you just wanted it to look that way." he stood too, hands planted firmly on the table, "because that's what you do. you pretend you care, and then just soak up all the glory for it."

you clenched your jaw, "not everyone cares for glory as much as you do. i don't know why you think that, but i know you loved being a hero, and i supported that because i love you."

"do you? or did you only get with me to be the partner of a hero?" he spat, eyes narrow and downright venomous, "poor partner of dynamight, they must go through so much to endure his anger issues. poor fuckin' you, right? poor y/n."

your lower lip quivered, the back of your eyes burning, and he laughed. he laughed.

"what? you're gonna cry, really?" he scoffed, shaking his head, "fine, fuckin' cry. that's all you seem to know how to do."

you inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes trained steadily on him, "fuck you." you whispered, hands balled into fists by your side.

"say it louder." he challenged, "maybe it'll actually do something."

"fuck you, bakugo katsuki." tears fell freely down your cheeks, but you weren't sad. you were pissed.

you walked around the table and jabbed your finger in his chest, "i have done so much for you. so goddamn much. i have stood by you, i have disproved every bad thing the media had to say, i've supported you, and-" your voice wobbled, "it's never fucking enough. nothing is ever enough for you. someone is always after you, someone is always praying on your downfall, because everything's about katsuki, right?"

he was stunned silent, leaning back away from you. his face was conflicted, eyes wide with surprise.

"well news-fucking-flash, the world doesn't revolve around you. and neither do i," you dropped your hand, wiping at your cheeks, "so i'm done. i'm done fighting for us, because you have never once tried for me."

"y/n--"

"y'know, katsuki." you paused on your way to the bedroom, "i think they were right about you. you are a douchebag. an asshole. a monster."

[charlietheepicwriter7]

V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car. 

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat? 

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium. 

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day. 

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were. 

And Danny hated how easy they had it. 

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay. 

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood. 

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack. 

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here. 

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it. 

Corrupt bastards. 

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.” 

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right? 

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes. 

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones. 

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number. 

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham. 

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly. 

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think. 

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood. 

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt. 

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response. 

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.” 

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick. 

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked. 

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily. 

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him. 

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point. 

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.” 

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door. 

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged. 

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

[fear-is-truth]

‘𝑪𝑨𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑰’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑱𝑨𝒁𝒁 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹, 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼’𝑹𝑬 𝑴𝒀 𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑻 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹 — kai anderson

✧. headcanon tags: fem! reader. mention of murder. ꒰ dating kai anderson headcanons ꒱ ⨾

kai enjoys reading in his free time, (when he’s not plotting world domination)

his favourites are by machiavelli, tolstoy, nietzsche and shakespeare. he often quotes them in fucked up situations.

“good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

like when he tortured RJ with a nail gun, he quoted hamlet. that part killed me.)

so he expects you to read too so he can carry an intelligent conversation with you. quality time, like a two-person book club.

after all, the future mother of his messiah baby can’t be an ‘uneducated hoe’.

you should be grateful that at least he doesn’t demand you to hand in a five-page book report every week (yet).

x

super possessive and gets jealous very easily. if a cult member dared to look in your direction, well, too bad for them.

kai is very creative when it comes to punishments. in the cruelest, most horrific ways imaginable.

tolerant of pda. in public, he allows you to hold onto his arm. don’t expect him to reciprocate though, he doesn’t want to be regarded as a simp.

if he catches other men checking you out, he’ll put an arm around your waist or squeeze your ass in a possessive way. glaring daggers to remind those bastards that he owns you.

at home, he displays affection in the most subtle of ways: a hand on the small of your back, his chin resting on your shoulder as he inspects whatever food you’re cooking for him.

while watching cult documentaries together on the couch, his arms casually resting on the backrest, hand grazing against your shoulder.

idly playing with a strand of your hair during commercials.

you have each other’s initials tattooed on the inner side of your pinky fingers.

he took you to his dead parents’ bedroom and introduced you to his mother.

he lets you help dyeing/cutting his hair. only you and winter are allowed with that special‘privilege’.

x

dates with him always feel like they’re completely random and impromptu.

(that’s what he wants you to think. what would his followers think if they found out the divine ruler spends time planning out dates for his girlfriend?)

“get dressed. we’re leaving in five minutes.” is code for “i’m taking you out on a date but don’t you dare make a big deal out of it.”

if he gives you ten or fifteen minutes to prepare, it means he’s taking you somewhere upscale so you better look nice.

his eyes always give that slight flicker of approval when he sees you wearing that dress he loves seeing you in.

(already imagining that dress on the bedroom floor.)

“do i look okay in this dress?”

“i’d fuck you in it,”

“…”

x

kai is good at reading people, pinpointing their weaknesses and using them to his advantage. though with you, it's done in a less malicious manner. don’t get me wrong, he’s still controlling as hell, but it's his twisted way of showing care for you.

he remembers everything that you’ve ever told him about yourself. literally everything.

even though he generally appears to be disinterested or zoned out when you’re talking, he’s silently cataloging every piece of information about you in his head. for later use.

he plays dumb. pretends to know little about you, in hopes to extract more info.

but then he accidentally let slip the fact that remembers the name of your bitchy grade school teacher, whom you once mentioned ages ago.

“ugh, that old lady in the checkout line reminded me of-”

“your 3rd grade bitch teacher. mrs davenport.”

“Well yeah.. wait, how’d you even know-”

and he’s staring back at you with a blank expression like: ‘duh. you told me, stupid.’

x

winter is your number-one shipper.

you always manage to bring out the old kai. the brother she grew up with : sweet, awkward, and funny. those were fleeting moments, but better than nothing.

and she’s grateful that someone can actually put up with her screwed-up brother, so she’s constantly in dread that one day he’ll push too far and you’ll leave.

winter knows that kai cares a great deal about you, more than he’s ever willing to admit.

x

during fights, he can’t bring himself to yell at you for too long when you’re crying.

he’s witnessed the way his shitbag father had treated his mother. so he just stands there, jaw clenched, fists balled as he tries to control himself.

most of the time, he leaves the room quickly, for the both of you to calm down. which is probably for best.

on rare occasions, when winter is absolutely livid at his assholery and the way he treated you, he finally realises that he had went too far, so he comes looking for you, feeling a bit.. guilty.

when he sees your tear-stained face, he sighs, mumbles something like:

“ugh.. can’t believe you’re still crying.. c’mere.”

then he outstretches his arms to you, kiss the top of your head and holds tightly to you, as you sniffle into his chest.

that is when you know that he is truly sorry without saying the actual words.

that small gesture is the kai anderson equivalent of begging on his knees for your forgiveness.

it’s just that his ego won’t allow him to apologize like a normal person. so he makes up by being sweeter to you the rest of the day.

because if there’s anything that scares him more than bruising his ego, it’s the possibility of losing you.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Ten — William Killick + uniform kink, dirty talk

Pairing -> dom!william killick x wife!reader

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), dom!william, sub!reader, mention of military duty, use of good girl, sir kink, captain kink, william in his uniform>>>>>

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“I knew you liked it,” William said sweetly, resting his forehead against yours. He cupped your cheeks in his hand, caressing it with his fingers. “I can see the way you look at me when I wear it. All bothered-like. Just want a strong man to take care of you, hmm?”

You shuddered. William was right. You did like it when he wore his uniform, especially now that you were finally seeing him against after his deployment. How was it your fault he looked so damn good in it? It complimented his skin tone, it matched his dark brown hair almost perfectly, and it outlined his body, showing that he was strong and muscular and fit. When he wore it, it was like he commanded respect, and when you were by his side, it felt like no one could hurt you, that you were under protection, William’s protection. That you were his. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, trying not to get all flustered about it. If you didn’t downplay the situation you were sure you’d be in for nights of teasing. “It just, it looks nice on you. It’s a pretty colour.”

Images of fantasies you’ve had came up in your head. You tried to push them down, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them, especially now . . . William, holding you in his arms, shielding you from the dangers of the outside world. He would command you and dominante you, but in the loveliest ways — in a caring way. In a way that said he loved you. Sometimes he’d be on top, fucking you so good, but with his uniform on. He’d ask you — no, demand you call him ‘Captain’, and you would.  

William kissed you softly, his lips brushing up against yours. “I know it is. Is this what you want?” he asked.

“What?”

“Is this what you want?” he repeated. “To make love to you in this uniform?” His hands trailed up under your shirt, aiming to touch your breasts. “I can do that. Only if you want it.”

“Yes!” you immediately said, then averted your eyes, embarrassed at how eager you sounded. “William, I want it.”

“Darling,” he cooed. He picked you up in his arms, bridal style, and carried you to the bedroom, laying you gently on the mattress. “I’ll give it you. But first we need to lay some ground rules, okay?”

You looked up at him, curious, while he unbuckled his belt. What a wonderful sight.

“It’s not William anymore,” he said sternly. “You’ll call me Captain Killick. I deserve it, don’t I? For my wife to respect my position?”

“Yes, sir.” You could feel your body getting hotter, and the area between your legs wetter.

“You’ll be obedient, too. No brattiness,” he said, as he pulled his fat cock out, “no pleas or cries. Just ‘yes, sir’, ‘I’ll do anything to please you, sir’. I’ve served you all those years out there, fighting to keep my darling girl safe, and in return you’ll serve me. On your knees with your mouth, legs spread with your cunt — whatever I ask.”

Your response was filled with lust, “Yes, sir. Whatever you ask.”

“Good girl.” He gave you a proper kiss this time, a passionate one, with his tongue sweeping over your lips and pushing its way into your mouth. He let out a muffled groan, hiking up your skirt and pulling down your panties. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he said in your ear. You hesitated. He had never taken you in that position before, but you obeyed nonetheless, waiting in anticipation.

“Ohh,” William moaned, pushing his cock into your wet pussy. He immediately started thrusting, hard and fast, without giving you a chance to adjust. 

“William!” you yelped, clutching onto the bed sheets for some stability.

He swiftly spanked your ass.

“C-captain Killick,” you corrected, little whimpers leaving your mouth. 

“Good girl. Ah, fuck — I can feel you clenching,” William said, his balls slapping against your skin, but you could also hear the sound of clothing shuffling. “Like it this much? Being—under my control? Dirty.”

You squirmed and tried to cover your wanton moans by placing your hand over your mouth, but William pinned your hands behind your back the moment he noticed what you were doing. “No, I want to hear your moans. Don’t hide them from me . . ."

He slowed his pace down and leaned over, his stomach touching your back. His thrusts were now more stiffer, and rough, pushing his way deep inside you. “Need to do this more often. Getting you so wet . . . I’ve missed you, it’s been so long since I’ve been inside of a woman.”

He cupped your bouncing breasts, pinching your nipples, eliciting a squeak out of you. “My darling wife. I love you . . . Now, stop squirming," he chastised, "and let me fuck you good."

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420 

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

do you think theyre still together? they spend so mcuh time apart :(

Yeah I do think they're still together. And yeah they do spend a lot of time apart. I think people need to understand that your idea of a relationship is not everyone's idea of a relationship, if that makes sense. Harry and Louis are in a very unique situation where they've gone from working together/being together every single day to having separate careers that demand them to be in a million different places all on top of the fact that they are not publicly together. I think it probably took them quite a while after 1d to figure out what works for them and I think it's completely possible that they did take some time apart after the band. They had a lot to figure out both personally and professionally.

I think over the years they've probably worked to realize what's important to them personally as individuals, as artists, and as partners and they have probably come to terms with the fact that there may be times where the don't see each other for weeks or months at a time. And that's okay. That might not be what many view as a "normal" relationship which is why I think people tend to get worked up. But every relationship is unique and like I said their situation is also unique.

Harry's mentioned reading books such as the Course of Love by Alain de Botton which is essentially about learning and exploring how love can be maintained in long term relationships. I think making their relationship work in whatever capacity they can is extremely important to them and something they've consistently put a lot of thought and effort into.

During a show last year when Harry asked a fan "Are you kind to each other? Do you love each other? Do you look after each other? Do you protect each others solitude? Are you friends to each other? Through thick and thin?" To me, those things all seem like things Harry (and Louis) highly value in their relationship. And the thing that stuck out to me, of course, was "do you protect each other's solitude?" which I assume he gets from the Rilke quote "the highest form of love is to be the protector of another person's solitude." I think this really goes hand in hand with the fact that they do require time apart, time alone etc. for themselves career wise and personally. I also believe they are both incredibly supportive of each other's careers which means understanding and respecting everything (time, travel, publicity etc.) that they have to put into their careers.

So all of this is to say yes, I do think they're still together. And yes, you're correct, they do spend a lot of time apart and that's okay. Their relationship isn't going to look like your "average" relationship.

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

I wanna comment on something I'm seeing that is deeply annoying me again. I am glad to see several posts similar to this, though.

Firstly, please stop acting like this is an "us vs them" situation but making the "them" be people on your own side who aren't responding to things perfectly. The problem is the people defending Wilbur, attacking Shelby, and spreading hate.

Do not take your anger and upset out on other people, because people are going to feel and respond differently but most people are supporting Shelby. It can be hard to see but people are usually trying their best and not trying to hurt others with what they're saying. You can both support Shelby and want Wilbur gone without agreeing on every opinion. Stop harassing people for responding differently to you. If their opinion is harmful, maybe try explaining why instead of harassing.

Secondly, please stop acting like every CC is this deeply evil, deeply toxic, abusive, horrible person because they haven't made a public statement about Shelby's abuse.

[Image ID: A screenshot of Shelby's alt twitter account's liked tweets. The tweet shown is by imiziee, one of Shelby's mods, and is a quote tweet. It reads "pls dont be like this. its been 2 hours since he posted it. people take different times to process that theyve been manipulated and friends with an abuser, calm down. instead of hating on people why dont you show support for shelby?? #ShubbleSupportSquad". The tweet it is quoting reads "the silence from his closest is so damning. fuck philza, tommy, jack, niki, tubbo, charlie, lovejoy, quackity" before it cuts off.]

This is from Shelby's likes, it's written by her mod. Shelby herself then likely agrees that this is a reasonable standpoint.

CCs should be supporting Shelby, of course. They should regardless of how close they are to this. However, we know that Wilbur manipulated people, close friends according to replies we've seen. We don't know what the behind the scenes is right now. Imagine if it was you and your closest friends, who you have known for years, and literal millions were watching you. It might take a few days to come to a conclusion, to say something, and I'd personally rather a CC come in a little late than rush an empty response.

I'm not expecting everyone to be perfect in their response, but a response is a response. Again, we don't know what is happening behind the scenes. I understand that public support of Shelby from other CCs is very important, but private support can be very helpful for them. This isn't about the fandom.

There's a difference between supporting Shelby and deplatforming Wilbur. They're connected, obviously, but given that Shelby is another CC, there's more ways to support her compared to previous cases of mistreatment allegations against a CC where it's someone without a platform coming forward.

Stop supporting whoever you want, and do whatever makes you comfortable. But stop attacking people and demanding they stop watching CCs because "all men are horrible monsters" and "all CCs will disappoint you" and "you support abuse if you watch any CC who could possibly support an abuser or abuse". Which ignores the fact that anyone could be an abuser, and abuse isn't a CC issue, this isn't an MCYT issue, it's a society issue. Yes, some groups, especially white men in positions of power, are in positions where they can abuse people easier. But literally anyone could be an abuser. That's part of what Shelby talked about.

I doubt that it's healthy to assume everyone wants to hurt you, to harm others, to abuse and manipulate, and that you can never watch or enjoy someone because they might be bad or support harmful people. Obviously, it's understandable to think that obsessing over a CC is bad because it is. You shouldn't put people on a pedestal and say "they could never do that!". But I'm seeing blogs who have been devoted to a CC and/or their character(s) for 3+ years talking about why you can never find comfort in a CC, and should distrust all of them completely. Like dude. It's fine to like a CC who may not be related to this at all.

We know according to Lexie that some CCs knew about abuse she faced and didn't do anything, in fact they kept hanging out with these people. It's fine to be wary, to stop supporting people who it could be. Because I'm sure there are people behind the scenes who knew something.

But again, the random tumblr blogger who wants to grant a CC a chance to get their thoughts together instead of making a shitty statement is not your enemy! Guilt tripping and harassing people into never thinking about any CC who could be related is not an effective way to support Shelby, and it does not make this seem like something that is about abuse. It makes this seem like online discourse.

This is not drama. Stop treating it like drama where you need to throw around buzzwords. You cannot "win" supporting someone. The only "right" opinion is supporting victims of abuse. People can feel different ways about CCs who did or did not respond. Stop saying people are horrible because they didn't loudly, actively denounce a CC who hasn't responded in one day to possibly finding out for the first time that one of their closest friends is an abuser. That's not supporting Shelby.

[maopll]

Can I please request the Heartslabyul boys reacting to you ‘forgetting’ to give them a good morning kiss?

Where's my kiss ?

| twisted wonderland !

⌗:, a/n: good morning kisses are a no from me if I'm not in the mood. ain't nobody wanna give someone a stinky ass kiss 😭 but I'll do it for the sake of this fanfic <3

⌗:, warning: fluff

⌗:, pairings: ace, deuce, trey, riddle, cater w/ gn!reader

ACE TRAPPOLA

You always give him a goodnight, good morning and a goodbye kiss. you've never forgotten to kiss him. if there are days when you haven't kissed him he will demand them no matter what the situation and you have to listen to him whims.

today you had other plans. what if you don't kiss him? you couldn't resist yourself after seeing other people do it too.

so here you are getting out of bed sneakily after not giving him a kiss. you went with your daily chores after you saw a dishelved ace telling you "Where's my kiss? :("

he looked like a three year old after having their candy stolen. you were trying your best not to laugh at his state but he caught onto your lips curling up.

how DARE YOU

he made it a point to you to always kiss him so why were you depriving him of his sole way of getting his daily dose of serotonin?

he annoyed you to have you kiss him and ofcourse you obliged! you just can't miss the feeling of his soft cheeks against your lips as you smother his face with kisses.

DEUCE SPADE

he is such a sweet boyfriend that he actually got really hesitant to ask you why you did not kiss him good morning. he thought maybe you were angry at him for whatever he has done and he got really tensed because he couldn't remember what he did to annoy you enough to not even kiss him :(

he slowly hugged you from behind and started apologising like crazy and he even said "love I'm sorry for what I've done I really am but please don't hate me too much to not even kiss me"

deuce may put up a good behaviour infront of others showing how perfect he can be but his behaviour of being like that absolutely melts in your arms when you kiss him. he is very different from how he shows himself to be in front of the public eye.

you weren't answering because you were trying your best to hold in your laughter but he caught on the way your shoulders were shaking and you definitely were not crying because he knows your acts and behaviourisms like the back of his hand

he is so mad at you now for trying to prank him like that

"I can't believe you [name] I'm going"

"WAIT COME BACK BABY IM SORRY"

He didn't reject your kisses and daily dose of affection.

TREY CLOVER

he is not thinking that much about how you 'forgot' to give him his morning kiss after waking up in his arms after cuddling so much with him last night

he knew it was another one of your shenanigans so he wasn't quote bothered by it until he has had enough

your kisses are like a lucky charm to him even if they may have some kind of placebo effect on him he still believes it's your kisses that makes him have a good day.

at the end of the day he returned with most of his energy exhausted because he had a pretty bad day because of you forgot to give him something.

"baby I know what you are trying to do...please kiss me I can't do it anymore"

you kisses him on his forehead, cheeks, eyelids, and lips and he wants more now.

you two shared kisses and cuddles for an hour until he has had his fill.

poor baby held whatever piece of patience he had throughout the day until he got to you.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

he wakes up with your morning kisses but today he woke up a bit late because you did not kiss him

he was so agitated because he was getting late for his class by 2 minutes !!

how could you do this to him !

off with your head /j

he was genuinely offended and annoyed because you did not give him his energy boost for the day

he flipped at whoever crossed his way because you just committed a big crime

ace and deuce were scared of him getting so angry so they brought you infront of him to take matters into your own hands and they were too afraid of doing something that might make him render them immobile or something.

they left the school ground to leave you two alone to do your bidding...more like get his emotions checked

a kiss on the cheek was enough to turn his full face blushing red like the tart he was eating.

he coughed and said blush still evident on his face "I will accept this kiss as a form of your apology towards the behaviour showed me today...don't do it again [name]...please"

you heard most of what he said but that "please" was so soft cause he mumbled it but you caught onto what he said.

with a cheeky grin you continued painting his face with kisses

ace and deuce heaved a sigh of relief as their dorm leader finally isn't angry anymore

CATER DIAMOND

I definitely did not forget about cater

Usually you two have a kiss fight(?) in the morning. the first one who wakes the other one up with kisses has to have the other give them kisses for the whole day including cuddles and a whole lot of affection

usually you would win but today you were feeling devious so you got out of bed without kissing him. he was a bit awake but his eyes bust open when you cooly opened the door and went your merry way

he sat up straight and grabbed his phone ready to cancel you out on social media

how could you do this to him

so he pestered you throughout the day

he told you and practically gave you a presentation on WHY you should kiss him

you were soon growing tired

you wanted to prank him but looks like it's an uno reverse moment now

you finally gave in and kissed him which shut his yapping.

he was silent for a while but he soon recovered and returned your kiss

[somber-sapphic]

Loved your latest Carina fic! Can I request a reversal where Carina shows up to work at the clinic to find Maya sick and refusing to go home despite everyone telling her to. Maybe including “I sneezed twice, is that a crime?” “Baby, I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you look like shit” and “It's chaos here. I can't just stop working because I have the sniffles.”  🫶🏼

Switching Things Up

〖Summary: After receiving multiple calls to come get her wife, Carina goes down to the station to drag her home.〗

〖Word Count: 500〗

〖Pairing: Carina x Sick Maya〗

〖Notes: I had a lot of fun with this! I don't usually write sick Maya so I hope I did the character justice. Also I'm running out of title ideas (again), can you tell?〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“It’s chaos here. I can’t just stop working because I have the sniffles. Who the fuck organized this?” Maya scoffed, frantically sifting through a stack of messy papers. She was searching for something, probably for an incident form that she had been rambling about when Carina walked in. There had been a mishap with a disoriented patient earlier, from what she could gather Jack had been hit but she wasn’t pushing. 

“It’s because you have the “sniffles” that you need to stop working,” She put air quotes around the word sniffles, emphasizing just how stupid that sounded given Maya’s current condition. “You are not at 100%, you’re missing things. Careless mistakes in medicine harm patients.” 

In any other situation, she wouldn’t have come out swinging like that, she would have tried to take a more gentle approach and chosen her words carefully but she was at her wit's end. Every member of Station 19 had called her, each one begging her to come get Maya. 

Some had been nice about it, Ben phrased it as a suggestion whereas Andy and Vic were demanding. Andy was similarly worried about patient safety and Vic was worried about herself. The ranting voicemail had been interesting, her loudly whispered words containing more expletives than Carina had ever heard from the leader of Crisis One. If it hadn’t been about her wife’s health she would’ve found it funny. 

“I sneezed twice, is that a crime?” The firefighter snapped, whirling around to glare at Carina. The brunette raised an eyebrow in challenge and studied Maya’s sweaty face. She hadn’t gotten a good look at her wife - it’s hard to see the face of someone you’re chasing - but her complexion wasn't too far off from that of a corpse. 

“Bambina, I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you look like shit. You’re burning up, you’re too sick to be here. Let’s go home, I’ll make you pastina and you can watch whatever you want on the TV, even those horror movies you like. Please, Maya, you’re swaying.” 

Carina reached out and took her wife’s shoulders, holding her in place. She could feel the fever burning through Maya’s shirt and up close it was easier to the haze of confusion in her eyes. 

“What did you come in here looking for?” Carina asked, cupping her flushed cheek in a soft hand. Maya blinked, her brow crinkling as she tried to think. Her mask slipped slightly, allowing the doctor to see her true vulnerability. 

“I…I don't…” She trailed off, sudden tears building in her eyes. The fast switch of emotions was telling and arguably more concerning than the fever. To make Maya come even close to tears she must have been feeling worse than Carina originally thought.

“It’s okay Maya. Let's go home, your team can take care of everything here, let me take care of you.”

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[writing-with-rania]

I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though.

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 1,196

tw: none! completely platonic and wholesome fluff. some swearing from bakugo a few times but that comes with the territory lol

notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)

‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’

Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.

It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway

‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’

‘The place smells like shit too.’

‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.

‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’

Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.

‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’

[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?

‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’

Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk. 

‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.

She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’

* *

No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!

However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”. 

‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’

Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:

‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’

Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really. 

Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!

Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].

‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’

Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.

‘But why?’

‘’Cause it’s annoying.’

[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins. 

The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon. 

(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)

(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)

For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.

* *

For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school. 

But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow. 

‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’

And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.

He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be? 

Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.

He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras. 

‘Yeah, whatever.’

i really enjoyed writing this!

let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.

[sapphos-catpanions]

if you’re like me, you’ve thought “if they’re putting trans women in women’s prisons, where are they putting the trans men?”

in women’s prisons, duh. the following are quotes from sagal sadiq, a trans-identified female inmate at the central california women’s facility, about the trans-identified male transfers that she is forced to live with. california, remember, does not require that a male inmate take any legal or medical transition steps before being granted transfer to a women’s prison.

“Under SB 132, these ‘trans-predators’ as I call them… they are just here to try and have sex with the women.”

“Even if it is true that they are at risk of violence in a men’s prison, this is just trading one victim set for another.”

“I submitted a [formal complaint] to housing staff. The officer asked me why I was documenting it and I said this behavior was inappropriate and was I believed that it was going to escalate.”

“Sometime after this, this predator I reported decided to retaliate against me. We were in the kitchen and he ‘shoulder-checked’ me, which means when he walked by me he hit me with his shoulder super hard … in an effort to bully me and dissuade me from carrying on with the [grievance] I had filed,”

“We were thoroughly frisked and put in a cage. I felt I was being kidnapped. They claimed that it was for our protection, but if they really wanted to protect us they would address the predatory behavior of this man, not lock up the whistleblowers.”

“When women complain [or] when they feel threatened … they are just moved. From bed to bed, room to room, and eventually yard to yard. And if you complain a little bit too long … you are put ‘in jail’ [solitary confinement].”

“For me, as an African refugee and civil war survivor – this triggers all my PTSD. You know what happens to women in wars and situations of strife… I don’t want to see that mirrored here. I came to America to be safe. To see this happening, even on a minor level, to my sisters here is very triggering to me.”

“Nobody thought too far into the process of how these ‘trans women’ are being vetted. You can’t just self-declare when you look like a 400-pound linebacker. These people clearly are not [transgender], they’re here for other reasons,” Sadiq says, “But because SB-132 is the law, everyone has a hands-off approach.”

“SB-132 is to protect trans rights, but trans men don’t have these rights. The patriarchy is protecting itself. You’re a biological woman? Stay in your place. You have no right to demand anything. But if you’re a biological man, you can be whatever you want. It’s encouraged. If you want to [be moved] here to prey on these females — who cares?”

“All humans have inherent rights imbued within us, and the idea that a new law was created not to protect, but to elevate a class of individuals above an entire gender, serves only to marginalize women.”

her sworn statement:

https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5f232ea74d8342386a7ebc52/t/6297b41a683f4e20e5e927e2/1654109210863/Sagal+Sadiq+Declaration.pdf

https://reduxx.info/women-being-punished-for-complaining-about-male-transfers-inmate-in-california-womens-prison/

[distant-velleity]

the true you

Summary: Chrysos sees Santiago's wings for the first time. It's your standard Chrytiago "they DEFINITELY have some kind of feelings for each other but won't admit it" fic. Word count: 2.4k+ A/N: Um so I may or may not have, to the detriment of my homework, had a burst of inspiration and written all this yesterday. O. Oops? Whatever <3 No beta we Overblot like pretty anime boys This takes place during Book 5 (bc haha themes of accepting and loving urself am i right) but the timeline is pretty muddled otherwise so. That's why a lot of usual characters aren't present and other things. Enjoy :)

~

Chrysos glares down at his phone, as if subjecting it to his scathing wrath will make a reply come any faster. He’s well aware of the awkward looks Yu and Jack are giving him and each other, but quite frankly, he doesn’t care. 

where are you? — Sent right before classes started.

hello? — Sent between first and second period.

are you sick?? — Sent during third period.

i swear to the seven if you don’t respond im gonna hunt you down. consider this your warning — Sent as soon as lunch break started.

It’s already halfway through lunch. Where the hell is he?

“Um, Chrysos,” Yu starts, reaching across the table to tap his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chrysos mutters angrily, not looking up.

Jack crosses his arms. “No need to be like that. He’s just asking a question.”

“Says you—” Chrysos inhales sharply, holds it, and then exhales. Deep breaths, now. Jack’s unfortunately right. “S…Sorry. It’s simply that Parro hasn’t been here all day, and he isn’t replying to my texts. He’s read them, but he isn’t replying.”

He looks up and sees Yu fidget, a telltale sign that the TA knows something. 

Chrysos narrows his eyes. “Are there circumstances I should be made aware of?”

“Oh… yeah.” Yu frowns. “There’s, um… a bit of a situation right now.”

“What?” ask Jack and Chrysos in unison.

Like a fish out of water, Yu opens and then immediately closes his mouth. He thinks deeply for a second, and then shakes his head. “I promised not to talk about the details,” he says, both apologetic and uncomfortable. “Santiago… really isn’t feeling it, so. You know. He’s still at Ramshackle until we can quote-unquote ‘get the situation under control.’”

“Right, but then he could at least—”

At least get over himself to tell me?

Chrysos stops himself, struck by shame. Isn’t he just taking Santiago’s usual enthusiasm for granted? It’s difficult not to, but if he were in Santiago’s position, then…

Being taken for granted really isn’t easy. He should know…

“Twisted Wonderland to Chrysos?” Jack asks gruffly.

Oh, he’s been quiet for a little too long.

“There’s no use in me just texting him,” Chrysos decides abruptly, turning off his phone. “I’ll seek him out once school ends. Then I’ll find a way to get answers, if I can’t get them out of you.”

He doesn’t miss the way Yu grimaces and shares a look—that he’s too stubborn to admit he cares, isn’t he one—with Jack. “Good luck. If anyone can get through to him… it’d better be you.”

…

“So, this is his room?” asks Chrysos.

“Yep. I’ll be at Pomefiore if you need me,” Yu tells him, and then leaves him alone in Ramshackle’s second-floor hallway. 

As much as Chrysos wants to just barge right in and demand answers, there are certain sensibilities he has to accommodate for. He sighs to take a moment for himself, observing—there’s a tray of food left by the door, on the ground, and totally untouched. Perhaps, if Santiago was holing himself up as reported, the rest of the NRC tribe had tried to offer him food…? And then he simply didn’t accept it, for whatever reason…

Chrysos’ frown deepens, and he knocks on the door.

“Santiago?” he calls, making sure to project his voice enough for the beastman to hear.

There’s a soft thud, a string of surprised curses, and what Chrysos swears is the sound of something flapping. 

“Chrysos?!” Santiago basically squawks. “Were you serious about hunting me down?”

“Oh, so you did read every single one of my texts!” Chrysos retorts. “I think I’m owed a bit of an explanation here.”

“Er, well…” Santiago’s voice grows small. Inside, something seems to rustle against the walls. “Um—it’s…”

Chrysos closes his eyes briefly. Stupid bird making me feel stupid feelings. “Listen,” he says a little more softly, though still firm. “I—” 

Missed seeing you in class? No. Nope. It’s only been a day. 

“...It’ll be better if you just rip the bandage off and tell me. Think about it, how many more classes can you miss like this?”

Santiago is quiet, and more fluttering noises come from inside the bedroom. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s… probably easier if you come inside first and see it for yourself,” he says reluctantly. “But—don’t judge! Please.”

Honestly, Chrysos has never heard Santiago—confident, flamboyant, mischievous Santiago—sound so insecure. Not even when their lives were actually at risk. It’s… odd. “Alright.”

Not really sure what to expect, he grabs the (unlocked, somehow) handle and pushes the door open—

Chrysos’ eyes widen.

Santiago is huddled on the bed by the window, the pale winter sun illuminating his hair. Wrapped tightly around his body are wings, red-and-blue feathers in shades that are just slightly duller than his hair. They’re lined a little oddly, though, messy and un-preened, and several lone feathers are scattered about on the floor. 

Frankly, though? Chrysos is in awe. “You… You have wings?” he asks, and immediately regrets how stupid he sounds.

“I’m a parrot beastman, Chrysos,” Santiago almost whines. “I can’t help it. They don’t normally look like this, I promise! Not all awkward and unclean and unnatural and—I don’t even have them at all, generally, but I ran out of the transformation potion and—”

“Hold on,” Chrysos interrupts, back to seriousness. “You take a transformation potion? Regularly? And no one’s noticed?”

Santiago wilts, nervously plucking at his own feathers. “The doses last really long since it’s a pretty weak potion, just enough to make me look relatively human—and I was supposed to get a refill over break, but the whole training camp thing happened, so I couldn’t—and now I’m out, so… hnnggh. Can you close the door already?”

Chrysos shuts it behind him without a second thought. Mostly because his brain is piecing together other, more significant matters—the fact that Santiago had mentioned never really having many friends, the diction he uses to describe his wings, the insecurity… 

Do you not see how gorgeous you are? Who the hell did this to you? 

Not that it’s hard to guess; society and the people it produces are vicious. Regardless of whether you’re on land or under the sea, it seems. 

Something must show on his face, because Santiago presses himself even further into the contradictory shame and safety of his wings. “You’re smart, you’ve probably figured it out already,” he mumbles. “I can’t stand the thought of… of everyone seeing me with my wings. I don’t care if it’s just my ‘human’ form, or when I’m using my signature spell, but”—he shudders—“people think it’s weird when I’m not visibly one or the other. Or at least they used to. And I don’t wanna have to deal with that here. I mean, can you imagine? I was doing just fine and getting along with people and then—”

The more Santiago rambles nervously, the more enraged Chrysos feels on his behalf. Maybe, it’s subconscious empathy from his own childhood, where his status protected him from fellow students at school but not from the arrogant mers of the aristocracy—

Inhale, exhale. Don’t give into your own grudges. Think about this rationally.

—okay. As furious as Chrysos feels, Santiago is being vulnerable with him, and for once he can’t just take advantage of that. With many others, he would—but in this case, he can’t. He just can’t. 

“So,” Santiago stammers out finally, “I don’t know if I can go back to class soon. Vil said he might look into brewing a temporary replacement, but he didn’t look too happy with my decision to hide my wings, so—you know. I just. I don’t think I can do it. I…I think I’ll just call in sick for a bit.”

He manages to pluck a feather from his wings, fidgeting out of stress in the silence Chrysos is leaving. If there’s any blood coming out, then it’s hard to tell through the matte crimson of his wings.

Shit.

Chrysos takes another deep breath.

Don’t make an impulsive decision. Don’t make an impulsive decision. Don’t m—

“I’ve heard enough. Come to Octavinelle with me,” he declares.

Santiago blinks at him. “Huh?”

Well, he’s said it already. No way he can back out now. Chrysos swallows. “I’m going to show you something.” And hopefully convince you of… something.

He watches the hesitation emerge clear on Santiago’s face. “But… I don’t want to go out—if people see me, then—”

“If they say anything out of line, you can ignore them, and I’ll teach them a lesson.”

Santiago worries his lower lip with his teeth, and doesn’t reply.

“As you said,” Chrysos says, “‘it’s best if you see it for yourself.’”

…

“What are you doing?” Santiago asks, incredulous, as Chrysos starts taking off his own uniform piece by piece.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that” Chrysos mutters, carefully undoing his bowtie so his necklace stays on. “It’s just easier to transform with less clothes on.”

Santiago’s eyes light up with a realization, and he almost stands up from where he’s sort of just perched on a bench. “‘Transform’? So, you mean—you’re showing me your mer form?”

“Mm-hmm. Hold this.” Down to basically just his shirt and slacks, Chrysos hands Santiago the articles of clothing he’s shed, and steps out of his shoes. 

“I thought…” Santiago’s lips press into a line. “Honestly, I thought you were just never gonna show me. Or that you didn’t want to.”

Ah. There it is.

Chrysos stares at the water of the pool—pristine and free of chemicals, since it’s made specifically to accommodate merfolk. “Well… I’m not sure if I’m as ashamed of my true form as you are.” Thinking about it now, though, he probably wouldn’t have shown it to Santiago unless it was necessary, like that time at Camp Vargas. Maybe that makes him a hypocrite. “But we’re not here to talk about ‘would have’s and ‘could have’s. How much do you know about merfolk culture?”

“Oh, uh…” Santiago seems surprised by the sudden topic redirection. “Not a lot, actually. It’s mostly only what I’ve heard from you.”

Chrysos sighs—not at Santiago, but at the facts he has to remind himself of. “Merfolk tend to value more human-like appearances, especially those who come from more populated settlements. I’m sure you’ve seen the stereotypical half-human, half-fish depiction of our kind; those are the kind of merfolk who are considered attractive and worth people’s time.”

He turns his back on Santiago to step over to the pool’s edge, sit down, and let his feet enter the water. Almost immediately, as soon as he starts imagining it, they start merging back into his ever-familiar tail. Magic takes care of the whole clothing issue, and consequently, he starts feeling the weight of his fins and spines.

Behind him, Chrysos can hear his uniform being put down and Santiago excitedly scurrying over.

“W-Wait—” He holds up a hand, conveniently hiding his face since he’s not ready to be perceived like that—not in the middle of his transformation—and stopping Santiago. “Let me… finish,” he says, a little lamely and clipped.

Chrysos eases himself down into the water, letting himself fully shed his ‘human’ appearance. When he’s fully submerged, he gives himself a few moments—looking down at his webbed hands, his scales, his angry red patterns and venomous spines…

(“Of course, what else could you expect from a monster like that?” — Said one of the king’s associates.

“Positively magnificent!” — said Rook and Vil when they caught a glimpse of his mer form.)

…Well, now Chrysos is pretty sure what message he’s trying to get across to Santiago. 

He swims back up and resurfaces, holding onto the pool’s edge; right next to where Santiago is sitting, posture more relaxed, as if he’s temporarily forgotten about his wing predicament.

“Woah,” Santiago breathes, looking… awestruck? “You’re so…” He gestures vaguely with a hand, wings fluttering. “...beautiful, I don’t know. Like—Seven, I know that sounds weird, and I hope you don’t tell anyone I said that aloud, but.”

Chrysos opens his mouth, closes it, and looks very intently at the tiles. I could say the same for you, he thinks, but immediately shuts that down. Don’t get distracted. “Well, that’s… not what I was taught to think. Merfolk like myself, and the Leeches—we aren’t exactly viewed favorably. I suppose it was the same for you. People are so shallow sometimes.”

Santiago’s wings droop. “...Yeah.”

“But,” continues Chrysos, “I—I wasn’t trying to make this about me. What I’m saying is—you showed me the you that you’re afraid will be criticized, so the favor should be returned. And it’s a reminder that it’s stupid to just go along with the standards other people think you should adhere to. If everyone under the sea was exactly 50% human-looking and 50% fish, then it’d just be… well, I’d rather live the rest of my life enduring Trein’s lectures.”

“At least it’s balanced.” Still, the witty comment has Santiago snickering genuinely. 

Chrysos ignores the way his heart skips a beat from the sound of it. “Riiight. Anyway, if everyone on land looked wholly human, then it’d be ridiculous too. Wouldn’t it?”

“I guess, yeah,” Santiago admits. He looks over one shoulder to examine his wing, back muscles flexing. “When you put it that way, it’s kinda like…” He glances down at the ground. “...this is all kind of pointless. There’s people who aren’t gonna be happy about my existence anyway, so I might as well embrace it.”

“So I’m finally getting through to you,” Chrysos deadpans. 

Santiago kicks, playfully splashing water at Chrysos. “Let me have my epiphany in peace! When I preen and get my shine back, you’re gonna regret talking to me like that.”

He doesn’t say it, but a part of Chrysos is glad that this part of their dynamic isn’t changing. With any tension having already faded like bubbles rising to the distant surface, he smirks. “You’ll be taking my words to heart, then?”

“Honestly, I’m, uh, not sure how I’ll handle sitting in class with my wings,” replies Santiago, “but I’m just gonna have to deal with it. Using all those transformation potions is… I knew it for a while, but it was just the easy way out. I’ll tell Vil he doesn’t need to brew anything for me.”

If nothing else, it’s a start.

“In that case”—Chrysos points a clawed finger at Santiago, a mock warning—“I’d better see you in class tomorrow.” 

“Aww, you missed me that much?” 

Santiago smiles back at him. 

“Don’t worry—I still wouldn’t miss annoying you in the middle of a lecture for the world.”

~

taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @casp1an-sea @elenauaurs @nahelenia

(for some of you guys on my normal/art taglist, i didn't tag you bc i don't know if you want to be tagged in fics, so 😭if that needs to be changed let me know)

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Worth it

Pairing: Solok x gen!reader

Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Words: 1.6K

Warnings: This is my first attempt at second POV in over a year so please be nice and tell me what you think, please

A/N: OMG guys, THANK you SO SO SO MUCh for over 100 Followers? May not seem much to others but I was surprised over one. SO thank you so so much

Why?

How come?

Have you gone mad?

Is this your free will? Blink twice if it's against your will!

It'll never last. Just wait and see.

Really? The xenophobe?

Questions upon questions upon questions that have haunted you for months now. You should have known, you thought silently, leaning against the wall of the turbolift. Ever since your relationship with Solok had come out five months ago, the people around you had treated you as if you had lost your mind, as if you were no longer sane.

You couldn't remember the last time so many people had told you that your relationship wouldn't last, that he would leave you and take advantage of you. You thought that it had never happened in your life that so many people had tried to interfere in your love life.

Especially as their statements were "illogical", to quote your partner.

Why?

You loved him, he loved you, for whatever reason he had chosen to do so. You knew it hadn't really been by choice.

How come?

Well, you had started working on the T'Kumbra during the Dominion War due to a lack of personnel. At first, Solok was not at all enthusiastic about this and would probably have done anything to get you off his ship. However, even he had had to see the logic in having enough personnel, even if they were human.

Over time, he had taken the time to almost befriend you, and even you had to admit that the grumpy captain had grown on you.

And when the war had ended and your position on the ship was no longer necessary, he had asked you to stay. He had tried to reason it out logically, had avoided your gaze and even turned green in the face until he had exhaled deeply, looked you in the eye, the icy blue had sent a shiver down your spine with the warmth it radiated. And you had agreed.

From then on, however, it had still taken a few weeks for the two of you to pull yourselves together and, admittedly under the intoxicating influence of Romulan ale and chocolate ice cream, to speak openly.

You had tried to keep it under wraps, but that was quite difficult on a ship full of Vulcans who easily recognised the change in their captain's demeanour as that of a mate's protector.

The good thing, though, was that they were Vulcans, which was why they had been able to keep their mouths shut, even if you had sometimes been met with the odd raised eyebrow. Granted, if you found out that your Cardassian-hating, Bajoran captain was suddenly dating one, you probably would have raised eyebrows too. If not more than that.

It only came out two years later, when you had to make a stop on Deep Space Nine and, due to damage from an asteroid shower, a plasma conduit had exploded near you and you had been taken to the infirmary. Although the injuries were not life-threatening, they still hurt incredibly and Solok did not make the situation any better by rushing into sickbay and demanding, almost emotionally, to see you.

Unfortunately for you, Doctor Julian Bashir had been on duty at the time, which is why the whole station knew two days later and almost the entire fleet a month later.

Which is why you were now getting wry looks from everywhere and worried messages from your friends. Not that it affected your opinion in any way. It was just annoying.

At the moment you were on Deep Space Five because the T'Kumbra had been badly damaged due to a space anomaly and had to be repaired. Unfortunately, the quarters of you and your fiancé had also been hit, which was why you now had to quarter on the station.

Your gaze fell on your hand and you had to smile as it was caught by the plain silver band that now adorned your ring finger.

Xenophobic your ass.

Maybe he had been, but Solok had truly improved. Granted, the proposal had been a bit messy and not really romantic (he truly could have found a better time than when you were led to your execution on an alien planet), but he had put a lot of research into it. Solok had chosen the ring personally and, although it was frowned upon in Vulcan society, had chosen a ring for himself, which he wore proudly day and night and even on duty.

When planning the wedding, you took your time, after all you couldn't get away from her at the moment anyway, as the T'Kumbra was not operational, you had suggested a Vulcan ceremony, but Solok had insisted on two ceremonies. One Vulcan and one human. Although he had given a logical reason (" a Vulcan, traditional ceremony will be necessary, but only in a few years, as my time is not yet, however, it is illogical to wait so long. I therefore propose a compromise with a human and Vulcan wedding so that the consummation of our marriage can be performed as soon as possible") however you knew only too well that your fiancé was trying to make up for his previous "illogical" thinking, as he called it. Even if he still didn't like Sisko.

You sighed and walked down the corridor to your quarters. Admittedly, you didn't normally care much for the hateful comments of the people around you, but today you had met your best friend, or at least you had thought they were, for the first time in ages, and instead of enjoying the time together, you had listened to one hateful comment after another until you couldn't take it anymore.

You had given them a choice, either accept Solok or leave. Five minutes later you were standing outside your door, making the outcome of the situation pretty clear.

"How can you stand this?! He's Vulcan. They don't have feelings! Can you really spend the rest of your life with a man you know is cold and heartless!!!? And then him!! The most xenophobic Vulcan of all Vulcans. He doesn't care about you and he's just taking advantage of you!!! Are you that deluded!!!?"

It had not been the first time you had heard such words and it would not be the last.

The doors opened and closed behind you and the sight made you melt inside. The table was set, the napkins folded as if with a ruler, they probably were, and wine glasses were placed at an exact, equal distance from the plates. The smell of your favourite dish drifted through the room and you could see, as you glanced around the corner, Solok in civilian clothes and with a black apron around his neck, standing in the small kitchen.

A smile crept onto your lips as you approached.

Cold and emotionless. Of course. If only they could all see him now. How he read the recipe with a concentrated expression on his face, looked to the ingredients in front of him and then worked on them carefully and precisely. You knew he didn't really need the recipe, but the very fact that he did it to be one hundred percent sure he wasn't ruining your favourite dish made your heart beat faster and a feeling of warmth and love rise inside you.

He was so focused on his task that he only noticed you when you wrapped your arms around him. "I didn't know you had one of those." Smiling, you propped your chin on his shoulder and ran your finger over the hem of the apron.

Solok looked down at you. "I have owned it for some time. It avoids unnecessary dirt stains on my clothes."

You chuckled lightly. "Solok, I know what an apron is and what it's good for."

With one last look, Solok ascertained that the food would not burn, before turning and wrapping his arms around you as well, raising an eyebrow. "You're home early. I thought you wanted to spend time with your friend." You bury your face in his neck. "We had... a disagreement."

Slowly, you felt Solok's mind ask entrance into yours and you granted it for a brief moment. This was all he needed before he withdrew and released you from his arms.

"Ah. I see. It was about your relationship with me."

You sighed. Of course, you knew that while Solok always brushed those comments aside and dismissed them as illogical, deep down, he felt guilt for somehow being the cause of those constant arguments.

"Forgive me, Ashayam."

You shook your head. "For what, Solok? It's not your fault that the people around us are idiotic, non-tolerant assholes."

For a moment he smirked slightly at your expression before turning to the food with a conflicted look on his face. "However, it is my fault that because of my illogical mistakes of my past, a bad light is now cast on you. If you weren't romantically involved with me, people wouldn't think worse of you and your friend wouldn't have left you."

You frowned and reached for his hand, causing him to dart around to you. "And I don't care, Solok. No, you know what? I'm grateful for it. Otherwise I wouldn't have found out what assholes they can be."

"But Ashayam, your position-"

"You're worth it," you interrupted him, whispering, and put your hand to his cheek, against which he instantly nuzzled, as if by reflex. "You are worth all these comments and looks and idiots, understand? I love you and those comments won't change that." You smirked slightly and felt for his fingertips.

"But if you have any doubts, feel free to take the ring back."

A growl escaped him and he wrapped his arms around you again and buried his face in your neck, eliciting a laugh.

"Don't even think about it, Ashayam."

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

@bigblissandlove1

[theheirofthesharingan]

All the Uchiha clan ever wanted was to live freely without any restrictions just like the other clans. The higherups weren't ready for that. Danzo and Hiruzen cut off their salary (up to 30%) , though there weren't any reason to do so. They were relocated to the outskirts of the village. Children like Itachi and Izumi were bullied due to this suspicions and accusitions. That's why they had come up with the coup, to regain their own rights. Also, they wouldn't have been dead or would have lost, definitely not if Itachi joined with them. There weren't strong members in the village(Minato was dead,Jiraya wasn't the village, Kakashi was too young). Literary no one would have been able to stop the clan. The clan had Itachi, Fugaku and police force. So, they would have won. There wouldn't have been any war, the last time in Nine tails attack even when village was in that pathetic situation no village tried to take advantage of it. So, why only this time they would attack and start a war?

The clan wasn't simply up to kill all the people village, they wanted to change the unethical and brutal leadership. Indeed they were brutal to shove the responsibilities to the Uchihas and innocent Naruto, just so people wouldn't suspect them and they could rule efficiently. The Uchihas demands were only about freedom. Despite all this Itachi still chose the village. The Uchihas wouldn't have caused a war and only the leaders would have been thrown off. Itachi still had a choice to not to confront the village leaders and say that the clan was planning to take them down. Things would have played out differently if so. But he just directly killed his clan. I mean, ofcourse he was to young to handle such problems, but how come he couldn't understand his clan's sufferings and chose the 'village' or more specifically 'village elders'(since the people wouldn't have been hurt even if he chose the clan anyway)? All of the burdens he had to carry were unnecessary if he could simply understand his clan and could come up with a objective solution. He could have forced his father for diplomacy or negotiations. But he didn't do any thing as such. His sufferings were unnecessary if he didn't foolishly come up with the solution of unethical cleansing of whole clan. Why did he chose this decision when he had all the better alternatives?

(I don't hold any grudge against Itachi nor I am an anti-Itachi, but I simply don't understand why many favour Itachi and the village despite whatever they did are clearly wrong)

I don't honestly understand why anti-Konoha, pro-Uchiha, pro-Sasuke fans think we Itachi fans are even remotely pro-Konoha. I'm as anti-Konoha as much one can be, but I don't believe in the 'Konoha needs to be nuked' bullshit as much 'Konoha needs to change on the whole so that no other Uchiha massacre ever happens'.

[Pro Itachi content ahead. Haters, no need to go any further.]

If you've been on my blog, you'd have known I never blamed the clan for their demands. Just because there's a conflict doesn't mean one side essentially has to be wrong. I'm pro-Itachi and also pro-Uchiha. I sympathize with the clan for the reasons you mentioned and I empathize with Itachi because he was the worst victim of this conflict between the clan and the village.

Since you're quoting the bits from the novels, I'll take them into account to answer this question.

Itachi didn't hate the clan, but he didn't agree with the clan mentality. If he were a Hyuga, he'd have felt the same about them. Since he's an Uchiha he feels so about the clan he's a part of. He wanted to be a Hokage, but not necessarily only for the clan's sake as much for the village and to end the wars on the whole, which would have solved the clan vs village issue too. Though if I remember correctly, he wanted to be the first Uchiha Hokage, so that he could be the bridge between the clan and the village. I'll have to check the book for this.

When the nine tail attack happened, other countries didn't attack because it was only after a year since the third world war had ended. Attacking a village/nation while they were themselves recovering would be a suicide for any country and village. If you think Danzo was going to let go in case Itachi sided with his clan, you don't understand this man. He was a manipulator, terribly persuasive, and would have had multiple backup plans to counter this situation as well. Itachi, with his pacifist and a bit naive ideology, was an easy target to him. Just because Itachi with the help of Obito carried out the mission in secret doesn't mean it would have been a secret any other way. Clans care about their honour too much in the Naruto world. Uchiha are no different and neither is Itachi. He knew the news of the coup would trigger extreme reactions in the village, not only because the village didn't care about the Uchiha, but also because they feared them. Danzo and his men wouldn't have been able to keep the coup a secret had they been on their own. The rest of the Shinobi of the village would have joined, resulting in the civil war.

A civil war would be different from the nine tail attack or Orochimaru's attack because it would create the rift among the villagers themselves. In-fighting would weaken the village defenses worse than the previous attacks did because there would be no unity among the people. Obito had told Sasuke that he was also anticipating war. With his involvement in provoking the clan for the coup (manipulation of Yashiro Uchiha), you think he'd sit quietly and not have done anything? Itachi was very well aware of his intent. In case you're wondering why didn't he just kill Obito or tell anyone about him, here I've written about it too. The clan clearly wasn't planning on starting the war, that was never their intent, but the coup also never had anything positive to offer, ESPECIALLY to the clan itself. The moment it happened, a lot of bloodshed would have followed as well. Not just that, the clan from then on forever would be remembered and known as the clan that went against its own village, whether they lost or won. No one would care they were oppressed or their demands were justified. If they lost, all of them would be dead. If they won - where was the possibility of that? The odds were against them from the start.

The Uchiha had every right to be angry. They had every right to demand justice. They had every right to want to be treated with respect and as equal citizens. But coup was not the answer.

Furthermore, they themselves could have reached out to the government, more so after Shisui's death. Neither the clan nor the village made any effort to solve this issue diplomatically. Itachi tried one last time to convince them against the coup and warn them of the disastrous outcomes it could have, but the clan ignored him. He was already seen as a traitor and an outsider by that time. Danzo knew Itachi wouldn't have agreed for the massacre, this is why he dragged Sasuke into it. Either Itachi kills the Uchiha or Danzo's men will do it, with Sasuke being their first victim.

He could have forced his father? Like his father didn't know already what was going on in his son's mind? Fugaku knew Itachi wasn't happy with the idea of the coup. He knew it when he apologized to Itachi before dying. He knew his son had condemned himself to a lifetime of hell with his final mission. He apologized for not being a good father to him.

It's strange that you quote stuff from the novels to put your stance but also keep repeating 'he chose the village' because anyone who's read the novels will know he resented both Danzo and Hiruzen and knew the village was a shit place. He was going to kill Danzo but was threatened/manipulated out of it. He was saddened that Hiruzen didn't even try to reach out to the clan even though he was a Hokage and that Shisui's death was for nothing. You also ignore how both the clan and the village treated him like shit. The clan was desperate, so it's understandable why they went to the extent they did, but it doesn't change the fact that it left him completely alone and with no one to put his trust into, and that played a major role in the massacre as well. Shisui's death broke him emotionally and mentally and destroyed his entire support system. Shisui had been the one handling the situation because he was not only older but also had his MS by that time. Shisui was going to stop the coup using Kotoamatsukami. Itachi was the one helping/supporting him, not planning things. It's his death that came to him like a brutal blow and left him paralyzed. Diplomacy should have been grown ups' business to tackle, who, on both the sides, treated him like a tool with no feelings and with no emotions. Instead of reaching out to talk and diplomacy, both the sides left their fate in the hands of an 11-year-old kid. Around the time of the massacre, Itachi wasn't even 13. Clearly, he was much younger when Shisui died, when the clan and the village started to put the heavy responsibilities on him.

In the massacre, the village was the only culprit. The clan had every right to be mad, but Itachi was still the worst victim of it. I've written more about it here, although it's focused on his treatment towards Sauske, but still understanding his psychology is important because all of it is interconnected. Apparently, in this fandom, whenever someone is analyzing Itachi's actions, his experiences, feelings, trauma, pain, guilt, regret, and sufferings are never taken into account, like you too dismissed it with a simple 'he was too young but he could have done xyz thing'. People will take every other character's feelings and emotions into consideration to analyze Itachi, but not his own. His trauma of witnessing the war played the most important role in how he came to view the world afterwards.

When you pin the whole blame on Itachi only, you're exempting Danzo, Hiruzen, the wars, Shinobi world from their responsibility that refuse to see kids as humans.