#I’ve been limiting contact with my abusive parent

[clingylilhoneybee]

Life finally feels like it’s falling into place 🥰

[impishjesters]

Little Thoughts

warning(s): suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideations, child neglect, child abuse, suicidal thoughts of a child, abuse, financial abuse, hurt/comfort(?), mentioned manipulation, casual talk about death/dying, pre-relationship, uncertain reactions (basically Jax nor you really know how to go about the situation), implied crush (both ways) A/N: This was written for myself, read it or don't, I don't care. I just wanted validation and acceptance from somewhere, even if it's fictional...

“Do you ever just wish you were dead?”

Jax slowed his oncoming approach towards you, blinking in confusion. “What happened to, hi? Hello? How are you?” He heard you scoff and crossed his arms loosely in thought. Sure, he was used to hearing some pretty questionable things from you, but you’d never flat out ask him—or anyone else for that matter—if they wanted to be dead.

“Well?”

“Uh, can’t say I do. Sure, this place sucks but think of all the entertainment I’d miss out on if I was, ya know—” he swiped his thumb across his neck and made a noise, “—dead.”

“You’ve been here longer. Aren’t you tired?”

What was this? Morbid fifty questions?

“You doin’ alright there sugar?” Jax circled around you, allowing you to see him long before he approached you taking a seat beside you. “I know you usually say some pretty…intense shit, but this is a little too intense even for you.”

You shot him a blank stare. Huh, you did say some pretty out-of-pocket stuff when it came to the dark subject—but to ask him flat out if he ever wanted to just be dead? That was new, but it was a valid question in your mind.

How could they choose to suffer instead of just dying?

“This isn’t anything new… I’m not like you guys. I haven’t been here for years on end gradually going mad.”

“Hey, rude. I’m not nearly as bonkers as Rags or King-face.”

He got a playful eye roll from you and that was more than enough of a win for his little joke. Sure it was a serious topic but he didn’t do so well during talks like this.

“I’ve always been like this… for as long as I can remember, as a child I thought it’d just be better if I was dead. That way my family could stop fighting, and I could stop being the rag doll in their arguments.”

As you spoke the grin that was glued to his face started to fall, slipping bit by bit until his lips ran flat. What child wants to kill themselves? He remembers his childhood not being the greatest but he never thought about death, that’s for sure.

“We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, they’d spend it on unnecessary stuff and worry about food and bills later until years of it caught up and put them in a bind.” Your gaze fell to your hands, fingers picking and peeling at the flesh. “Most would say I was a very spoiled kid, I always got toys and the holidays were jam-packed with even more unnecessary toys for a growing child to outgrow.”

He had a feeling he knew where this was going…

“But I didn’t want that, I didn’t want all those toys. Expensive or cheap, I never asked for any of them. If my eyes made contact with something and lingered just a second too long they’d buy it for me.” You sighed, looking up at Jax. “All I wanted was my family to give me the time of day, to play with me. To love me.”

“Fuck, I’m..” he hesitated, saying sorry felt pointless, that was ages ago and he wasn’t there. He wasn’t at fault but he couldn’t even imagine that—his own parents argued but they kept him out of it.

“It’s fine you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

He shuffled in place awkwardly, how are you supposed to respond to that? Luckily he doesn’t need to because you are already looking away and took a deep breath before continuing.

“It never got better, toys became electronics and games. Because of my family, I didn’t get to socialize growing up and I’d be quiet and withdrawn at school. The older I got the more vocal they started to get about me, even though they didn’t want me they kept me chained down and limited my ability to fight them.”

“What they lock ya up or somethin’?”

“They didn’t need to, I had no reason to leave the house. I didn’t have friends, we didn’t have stores or anything fun to do that wasn’t an hour’s drive away.” He hates the way you laugh so casually about it. “No, they’d limit any money I’d receive making sure I’d spend it instead of save it. I used to think it was their way of trying to make sure I wouldn’t run away, but even if I didn’t have savings that wouldn’t have stopped me from leaving with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

“Why didn’t ya?”

“I was a coward.”

Jax snorted and caught your attention. “You were a child, not a coward.”

“Whatever, pointless to think about it now. Did me fat lotta good in the end anyways, here I am trapped in this hell hole where the closest thing to death is abstracting.” A dry laugh left you at the irony. “I can’t even fucking off myself properly.”

The two of you simply sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of you seemingly aware of how to continue the conversation. There was no reason to give Jax the whole sob story that didn’t matter anyway, and he couldn’t think of a response.

Sure he wasn’t the greatest at times but he didn’t want you to just…die… but he wasn’t going to try and guilt trip you into living for him. Even if that outcome sounded far better than you dying, he could live with a guilty conscience—probably…

“You don’t have to worry about responding, I sort of just… dropped that all on you. It’s fine, it’s the past.”

“Still doesn’t change that ya still feel like ya should’ve died because your family sucks.” You shot him an unimpressed look and he shrugged. “I’m just sayin’, you were just a kid stuck with a shit family and should’ve been given help a lot sooner.”

“Gee, thanks—”

“I’m not done,” he used your name, no silly or insulting nicknames, “someone should’ve done something, I know people are stupid and think if they just look away it’ll be fine. But someone should’ve stepped in, it’s still abuse, it’s neglect.”

It went unspoken about how you clearly didn’t seek any form of therapy or help as you got older, he already felt like he was pushing it saying what he did.

“Look nothing I say is gonna make ya not wanna pop yourself, but it’s different now. Yeah, ya stuck here but you aren’t alone, and the others like ya.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” he blinked, you weren’t asking him if he…

“Do you like me?”

Jax coughed into his hand, casually turning himself to face the same direction as you. He refused to budge even when you turned yourself to face him, he was not gonna lose his cool.

“Ya alright, better than King-face and Rags that’s for sure.”

His answer pleased you enough to pull back but still face towards him. Occasionally, you’d see him peeking over to see if you were still looking at him until he finally kept his gaze forward.

“Thank you Jax.”

It felt wrong to accept your thanks, he didn’t do anything. But again you responded for him, as if knowing his plight.

“Thank you for sitting here with me, and listening… nobody’s ever listened to me before and not tried to justify what they did like I was the one at fault. You don’t need to feel like you have to have done something to be thanked.”

His shoulders shrugged before relaxing, his gaze that had glued itself to nothing finally turning to you. “Look just, promise me if you get those icky thoughts again you’ll come to me instead of stewing in them okay?” He saw you hesitate and cautiously reached out for your hand. “Promise me.”

You sighed. “Fine, I promise…” Ironically, you didn’t think you could trust anyone but Jax with this sort of information. Personal feelings aside.

“Good, now shut ya face and enjoy my presence and this beautiful moonlight night.” He threw his arm around you and pulled you closer, hand lingering at your side. He was going to make sure not to take advantage of this information, he wanted things to be genuine and not manipulated—as easy as it would be for him.

If the two of you were stuck here he wanted your feelings towards him, and vice versa to be genuine before taking the next step.

[oneshortdamnfuse]

Fellow U.S. Americans,

If you’re concerned about KOSA (Kids Online Safety Act), I would recommend contacting your local representatives via badinternetbills.com. It takes seconds to fill out the form. I would also recommend using Resistbot. I’ve used that tool multiple times, and I’ve successfully gotten a response from my local representatives each time. This is critical as KOSA has bipartisan support, and there are a lot of misconceptions about what this bill could mean for everyone.

KOSA proposes to protect children on the internet, which seems like a noble cause and it’s easy for people to fall for harmful bills when they promise to “protect the children.” There are elements of KOSA that seem reasonable, such as limiting what advertisers can show to minors (e.g. no alcohol and tobacco ads) and requiring social media to provide safety features for children and parents so that their content won’t be used to exploit them.

The problem is that right wing conservatives intend on using KOSA to eliminate LGBTQ+ content and anything they deem “critical race theory.” They would also be giving parents greater control over their child’s internet access and online presence, which could endanger children in an abusive situation. And yes, this could impact censorship on any website a child could technically access. That means that adult content made by and for adults could be banned and censored altogether just because children might access the website.

I know that is all very concerning, but it’s really important that you share those concerns with your local representatives. They are there to represent you, and it’s important that they know that you’re unhappy with this bill. If they don’t listen to you, then you let them know that their job is on the line when elections comes back around. If you want to fight censorship locally, I would recommend getting involved in local school boards because fringe groups have been trying to ban books across our schools.

If you’re not from the U.S., please boost information about KOSA. This bill may still impact you as the internet doesn’t exactly adhere to borders.

[violetsandfluff]

Tidy Little Secrets (introduction)

This is something new I’ve breathed into existence over the past 48 hours. So PLEASE give me feedback, as I haven’t had a lot of time to proofread this because I’m too damn impatient. Think of this as a trailer, an incomplete part one, a sneak peek, I don’t care. Just know that it’s here and I would really appreciate your support. This will be around five to eight parts.

Trigger warnings include: sex (in different parts), sexual tension, age gap, drugs, alcohol, mentions of shootings and abuse, abusive households and many other triggering matters.

Being an adult was hard.

Those were the sole words of wisdom your parents had bestowed upon you as a child. Enjoy your time under our roof, they’d said, because once you leave, life will be more difficult than you could ever imagine.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe them. Quite the contrary, really. The adults you were raised among seemed like purposeless puppets. They woke up on weekdays and went to work just to party on the weekends and cough up enough money for rent at the end of the month before repeating the cycle. And even this “reckless” lifestyle seemed rigorous to maintain.

It was exasperating to be a child in the midst of this, much less an adult responsible for a child. The sixteen full years that you spent surrounded by alcohol, drugs, smoke, assault, gunshots, and toxic love had you gasping for air. You dropped out of school the moment you were old enough and your parents never knew.

You experimented with different types of jobs for the duration of your time at home. None of them felt right, but you accepted that as your future. If you weren’t finishing high school, gas stations, and fast-food restaurants it was.

When you were eighteen, you moved out and got a small apartment using the funds you’d been diligently collecting for the past two years. All of the jobs you worked were hierarchies, stratified into challenging levels someone like you could never conquer. Your future was only as bright as your resume, and your resume wasn’t promising.

You weren’t in contact with your family, except your sister, Nataly, though even that was limited to a singular call or text every few months. Both calls and texts were usually initiated by you. That’s why it was strange when she called you one Thursday evening in March.

“Guess what?” she had asked, voice radiant with excitement, carrying on before you got a word in. “I got a job working for this rich man uptown and he gave me my first paycheck. He’s paying me so well!” She went on to describe the job in vivid detail, and you had to admit, it was more than convincing.

“That's unbelievable, Nat,” you replied, feigning happiness. “Well, I don’t doubt that someone like you could land a good job, but... You know what I mean. Do you think that I would enjoy a job like that?”

“Oh, Y/N,” she gushed. “Of course! Especially if your client is as gorgeous as mine.”

The concept of attractive men had you sold instantly and she knew it. Within an hour, you added yourself to a hiring website where you put an ad out for a housekeeper. Now, all you had to do was wait. Fortunately, your offer was accepted within minutes by a wealthy man who lived uptown. He was in touch instantly, helping you plan out your tentative work schedule.

You couldn’t believe how well things were going. The dots were practically connecting themselves.

That night, you lay in bed, eyes aglow as you revised every detail of your evening. You had gotten a call from your sister, quit your job, and gotten a new job working as a maid. From now on, you would spend your days cooking and cleaning for a strange man in a mansion i rather than ringing up bottles of water and packets of trail mix for begrudging truckers. This kind of change was nearly unfathomable, a one-eighty capable of giving you whiplash.

~~~

Monday morning rolled around, dragging you with it. You were grossly unprepared. Your client supposedly had everything you needed, but that didn’t assuage your feelings of anxiety. You hadn’t cleaned anyone’s house but your own, much less wealthy old men in good neighborhoods. Hopefully, he would be kind and well-compensating like Nataly’s.

Clothed in loose, simple garments, you examined your appearance hesitantly. Your hair was pulled back into a low bun and your face was covered in a cheap layer of hastily-done makeup. You had to keep reminding yourself that you weren’t aiming to seduce the old geezer, rather earn money.

Once in your car, you punched his address into your GPS and followed it attentively, trying to pry your brain from the intruding thoughts of inadequacy. The farther you went, the nicer the homes and neighborhoods became. You assumed that none of the children that lived around here didn’t get to watch shoot-offs from their bedroom window every other weekend.

The GPS continued directing you up the street, and the houses got remarkably bigger, presumably costing a fortune. After driving for forty-five minutes, the GPS directed you to stop in front of the biggest, most beautiful house you’d ever seen. It was three stories tall and the most elegant building you’d ever seen.

It was made of a welcoming tan stone with regal white pillars framing the front door. There were windows everywhere, and even they looked expensive.

Eyes wide with amazement, you remained in your car, unable to move. You absorbed your surroundings as if you had never opened your eyes before. They scanned everything around you, eventually landing on the massive garage built into the side of the house. It was presumably filled with all kinds of luxury vehicles.

Once your wits returned to you, you made your way up the front walk and onto the stoop. A moment after you’d rung the doorbell, a voice called from somewhere inside, instructing you to enter. You opened the door cautiously and found yourself standing in the doorway, taking in the crystal chandelier and gleaming marble floors, jaw agape.

Just then, a tall man strode briskly in through the hallway beside you, flashing you a grand smile. He was much younger than you imagined, but dilf material nonetheless. He was dressed in a smart navy blue suit and his hair was tousled immaculately. He gave you a cocky smile, noticing the awe on your face. He was definitely proud of all that he had, but who wouldn’t be? You were surely blessed to be in his presence.

“Y/N, right?” he inquired,

He held out his hand for a shake and you broke out into a cold sweat at the thought of touching him. As he raised his hand, his sleeve fell just enough to reveal the tattoos that lay beneath.

You immediately forgot about his arms and focused on his voice. His accent made your name seem beautiful and exotic. This was too much. His grasp was firm and his hand was veiny and warm.

You took his hand and shook it properly. “Yes,” you stuttered, straightening yourself, busying yourself by fixing your waistband to avoid eye contact. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Beautiful.” He let out a breathy chuckle.

He was so suave and articulate, speaking smoothly and making confident eye contact; a right businessman. And here you were, tripping over your words like the lower-class person you were.

He directed you toward a closet built into the side of his double staircase. “Everything you’ll need is in here and if you’re missing something, don’t hesitate to let me know. I don’t have anything f’you to do today. Take the to look around, I understand it’s pretty overwhelming.”

You smiled gratefully, deciding to ignore his implication to your income and upbringing.

“I only have to work until one today, so I’ll be back to answer any of your questions. Sound good?”

You nodded, trying your best to keep your act together until he left.

“I just have one rule. Whatever you do, don’t touch the door at the end of the hallway on the third story. Okay?”

You nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“Harry,” he corrected with a cocky smile. “Call me Harry.”

His words echoed in your ears as he exited the door, briefcase in clutch. You locked the door behind him, sinking to the ground with your back to the wall, heart racing.

I’m gonna tag some people here just to get the ball rolling. (Taglist people, some mutuals, or people who liked this post.) Thank you in advance to anyone who interacts because it means the whole wide world to me. ⬇️⬇️⬇️ @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @sortingharryshairclip @fishingirl12 @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @lukesaprince @babygirl-jj @shroombloomm @chocochipcookie305 @pamelagramm @harrysonlylover

[medicallymercury]

And Another One - Casualty Hiatus Thoughts - 2/?

I'm still ill but I went into uni anyway like the brave little soldier that I am! (Every night, I decide that all the work that I need to do can be done “tomorrow” but we’re rapidly running out of those until the deadlines. I have lost my train pass and student ID. All I’ve listened to all day is the demo version of Geyser by Mitski. Vague sense of doom.) I got myself some Tesco Finest cookies on the way home. I’m just complaining here. 

I'm back for more already, seems like I've opened the floodgates but this one won't be as lengthy as the other one was. Genuinely sorry I can’t shut up. I thought I was done for a while but I put an episode from series 36 on in the background thinking that I'd be able to do stuff while it played but got distracted by my opinions.

Potentially all over the place again, though this one does manage to be mostly about the series 36 mother-hell storylines. So there's a theme. Warning - I started going off about Dark Room which has a lot of transphobia in it and that’s part of what I talked about.

I really don’t know how I feel about the resolutions of Sah and Teddy’s storylines with their mums. Okay, we already know I'm about to be going on about Sah and Teddy's mother problems storylines but I'm sure there are other characters who this is/isn't applicable to - feel free to let me know about it. As a recap: it’s kind of hard for me to figure out how to describe exactly what happens at the end of Friends Like These, but if anyone has ever seen that quote that’s like “I tried to ask my parents to leave the room, but not my life”, Teddy asks Gaynor to leave the room and she leaves his life. A couple months later a patient situation causes Teddy to call his mum (and that is not brought up again when he gets trapped in a mine in the next episode) and also we are left to assume that all is fine now. Pretty simplistically, in Enough, Sah and Jools talk it out after Kevin has another stroke and then they are also just portrayed as being okay forever by the end of that episode. 

I can absolutely believe that these characters, sad and work-stressed and not always the most emotionally mature, would forgive their mothers. I don’t even disagree with it happening on a story level because I think it could make for a really good development in those stories, or even just a less-than-happy ending. What I don’t enjoy is how these endings are presented as being happily-ever-afters and that everything is supposed to be fine now because they’ve forgiven/reconciled with their mothers who haven’t really done anything to deserve it. Jools is objectively neglectful, and telling Sah they were always enough does not make up for that. I think Gaynor’s behaviour is emotionally abusive; she’s controlling his life, emotionally manipulating him, she’s trying to even limit his contact with people other than her (and she has been doing this, he “wasn’t allowed friends”). Unless I'm wrong, we don’t see or hear from Gaynor at all between Friends Like These and We Need To Talk About Ollie. I don’t doubt they love their kids but that doesn’t make them good parents, and it’s not on their kids to be doing the work to improve the relationships. If we’re getting these forgiveness endings then Jools and Gaynor need to put more effort into proving they’ve changed. Or (and I'd probably find this more interesting cause I'm mean). Forgiveness needs to be presented as something that isn’t this simple happy ending because it doesn't feel like that in these circumstances. I respect the potential misery of the undeserved forgiveness, I love misery for them, especially when they’re both in mother-hell together, I am mean. But if you want to give them a happily-ever-after, keep them away from their mothers or make their mothers do the work. 

They make Sah be the bigger person way too much, actually. In Dark Room, why does Sah have to be nice to Scott when Scott deserves to get re-beaten to a pulp? I don’t care that his mum is also terrible. Not only did he bully them when they were teenagers, he tried to ruin their whole life as a fully grown adult. Their mum is terrible as well and you don’t see them acting like that. They don’t need to be the bigger person and try to help Scott and his also terrible mother, they need a weapon of mass destruction. Also, why is Sah’s deadname used so excessively in series 36? Or at all? Ever? I’m sure there were ways around the audience ever needing to actually know what it was, even if they felt like the story required the implication of characters using it. Another potential Casualty hot take, maybe? I don't think Sah's dad is all that great of a parent either. Obviously it is entirely Jools' fault that Sah has to be his carer at such a young age, he had no control over that and Jools is definitely the worse parent, but getting back with Jools without telling Sah, cancelling plans with Sah to go on dates with Jools, excusing Jools’ pretty transphobic remarks and acting like Sah has to forgive Jools because he has really isn’t great. They were right when they said “it’s not just you she left”. IT’S! NOT! JUST! KEVIN! SHE! LEFT! It annoys me that Casualty is like ‘this action will have consequences’ about that scene because Sah is right. The only person I truly like from Sah’s pre-joining-Casualty life is Bill Phillipsen (and his dead wife) and he died. I knew you very briefly/not at all but I miss you Bill and Jean <\3

This post is absolutely the post for me to start getting into the connections between the mother-hell storylines but I won’t in full. They are kind of this pair of opposites, not just on this wider level of overinvolved mother vs uninvolved mother, there are a lot of patterns I’ve noticed in the episodes and the dialogue. I’d find them all now but it's 2am and I need to be awake at 8am at the latest so I’m putting off compiling that list for another day. Some faves that I can remember off the top of my head: opposite Jan advice scenes, Gaynor really struggling to say she’s proud of Teddy even though he really wants her to while one of the first things Jools tries to say to Sah is that she’s proud of them and they tell her not to, “you won’t see me back if I go” vs “I’m back now if it’s not too late”. I really like these connections, that's why I'm so passionate about what I don't agree with in these storylines.

I didn't mention this in my last post but I got my hands on a bootleg of The Play That Goes Wrong with Milo Clarke as Max and it's very enjoyable. I've been meaning to watch TPTGW at least since I watched both series of the show, probably longer, and I succumbed to the Casualty brainrot and and had to see his version. All I'll say: He really knows how to play aunt based nepotism and situations that could be solved with polyamory.

Based on when one of the episodes is set to air, I don’t think we’ll see Casualty back until about December 30th, unless we are gonna have another break between episodes once it comes back. I don’t really care that much and also, Christmas/New Years episode? The most recent Christmas episode was that one where they were like “what if it was last year?” back in 2021 and that’s always been a weird choice to me. I just want a silly little festive one, normal Casualty episode featuring carol singing and tinsel and the implication of a really intense staff party (we will never get the Sah/Teddy Christmas party of my dreams, not this year cause they’re in the current situation, not last year cause no Christmas episode and also the stuff with Jan was happening then, not the year before…). The only thing that bothers me about the hiatus is the inevitable time skip, so much time will have elapsed in universe by the time it comes back so I feel like we will have missed a lot of the immediate aftermath of stuff that happened at the end of Driving Force.

[jewishbarbies]

vent post so tw for literally everything

***

my mom is always saying something to the effect of “well your childhood was better than mine because YOUR dad didn’t hit you” or “at least you weren’t scared you dad was gonna kill you” etc because she had a very abusive father, and it pisses me off because she’ll use that as an excuse to downplay ANYTHING i’m venting to her about from MY dad during MY childhood while also currently staying in contact with her abusive father and DEFENDING him when i tell her he’s a piece of shit and deserves a painful death.

i’ve told her multiple times that my first memories were my parents screaming at each other, dad throwing things, slamming doors, dad road-raging with his whole family in the car and nearly crashing on multiple occasions, getting yelled at, slapped, beat with a spoon until i welted (not bc i disobeyed, but bc i annoyed my dad), and my dad even chased me down the hallway and put his fist through the door i closed/locked so he couldn’t get to me (and they still shame me for needing to replace the door like it’s my fault). my dad would constantly pretend to throw things at me and my sisters as a “joke”, including but not limited to knives, scissors, pens, and baseball bats.i still have a vivid memory from when i was 4/5 and my parents were yelling, and i found them in the master bath with my mom cowering into the back wall sobbing in the dark and my dad trying to comfort her and apologize because he chased her in there in a rage.

but oh yeah, i didn’t fear for my life AT ALL during my childhood. i don’t have ANY crippling anxiety or chronic depression, i don’t flinch at the dumbest little things, i don’t get heart palpitations hearing my dad’s fucking voice or a door getting shut too hard by accident. i don’t stay in my room all day to avoid my parents because being around them and hearing them makes me feel unsafe still. yeah, no lasting affects at all. /s

there was a while where my dad was exhibiting some of that behavior and it came to a breaking point where my mom finally told him that we (my sister & i) were afraid of him. there’d been something spilled and then left on the stove and we KNEW it was his mess so we weren’t going to clean it up and my mom huffed off to go tell him and complain about it, and he immediately got up and started stomping to the kitchen and my mom told him not to because he scared us like her dad scared her, and of course all he did was one of those “how dare you call me what i am” guilt trips, and my little sister was visibly shaking so i shoved her in my room and locked the door. she was sobbing uncontrollably and shaking and i stood by the door to make sure they weren’t going to come in. when they finally came to the door i only opened it enough to see them and my dad looked defeated but still pissed and my mom was worried about my sister, and i actually yelled at him. i asked if he was proud of his behavior and how he treated us over a fucking stove, because that’s all it was, and if it was worth it because my sister was a mess. he cried. i let my mom in with the permission of my sister but i stayed by the door while he was there. that was in 2021.

what do you MEAN “my childhood”? it’s happening to me RIGHT NOW.

[angeldiaries777]

I deleted all of the other texts from me to my parents during my manic episode. because I seemed like an ungrateful bitch when in reality I was the one being emotionally manipulated since I was a child by the people who are supposed to care about me the most especially since they’re the only ones who know what I’ve been through. I just wanted to move on and if I wanted proof for context I just ended up making myself look bad. Notice how there are never I love yous or nice texts. It’s always just straight to the point. It’s because I want limited contact and keep things cold and they don’t care a enough when I’m going through certain phases. I have no relationship with my parents. It’s just a ton of resentment everything I do it leads me back to what they did and how they raised me. I may be mature and tired enough to forgive them but I cannot forget the abuse. And the more other people are close to their parents the more it hurts. It’s like wow that could’ve been me. I’ve just accepted I will forever be the scapegoat of this family. Whatever.

[theartofsomething]

Plotting

            I am a Family Support Worker for the Children’s Network of Southwest Florida. I supervise visits with biological parents and their children that are currently under the care of The Department of Children and Families, or “DCF”. This can be because of drug addiction, domestic violence, abuse, medical neglect, or numerous other circumstances. Today, I had to go to the courthouse to testify my experience supervising visitations with a mother and her child. I have been supervising this mother and daughter for about a year now and have seen this mother go from homeless, sick, and drug-addicted to a healthy, kind, hard-working, and dedicated mother. The the trial today was to decide if the mother should regain custody or lose all rights and communication with her one-and-a-half-year-old. It never gets less scary or less intimidating no matter how many times I do it. Despite the judge ultimately deciding the outcome, the feeling that your testimony may have a serious impact on the rest of these families’ lives is a very intense emotion.

I entered the courtroom with my head held high, but my palms were sweaty, and my heartbeat was rapid. The mother’s family was there, and stared at me intently in an attempt to read me. It was obvious their nerves were as intense as my own. While we are trained to not make eye-contact with the defendant- the parent- I couldn’t resist myself. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she looked at me as though her future was in my hands. While we had built a close-knit professional relationship, arguably too close, I was forbidden to tell her what my testimony may be beforehand. While on the stand, I shared my experience with the mother before the courtroom. I detailed the skills she exhibited as a parent, the commitment she showed to her daughter, and the behavioral changes I’ve seen in her over the last twelve months. When I was done, I looked once more at her. Her tears had overflowed to her cheeks, and she mouthed the words, “thank you” to me.

After a few more testimonies, the judge had made her decision. The mother was given full custody of her daughter, and they were immediately reunified without any further investigations or limitations. The mother and her family began to sob tears of relief and happiness. I, too, began to feel tears welling in my eyes. To remain professional, I left before anyone could notice. I sat in my car in the parking lot, feeling too emotional to begin driving. I then heard a knock on my driver’s side window, and there stood the mother with her daughter in her arms. She thanked me for being a person for her to lean on throughout the long process, and for never giving up on her when she had given up on herself. She told me she would never forget me. She tried to accredit me for her success, but I reminded her she was the one who put in the work and made the changes necessary. There in the parking lot, the mother and I embraced for many moments with her little girl between us. We thanked each other for changing each other's lives.

[bibbykins]

Ghosts of the Past

A/N: Y'all asked for some pain to close off 2021, so here it is! I will not lie, as an assault/abuse survivor this was both difficult and comforting to write. Please proceed with caution and prioritize your mental health. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy and if you are a fellow survivor and no one has told you yet, I'm so proud of you and glad you're here. Please give me your thoughts, we can cry together about this really rough drabble and talk about how much we hate Jungyoon and Donghee

The Household's Bunny Series Masterlist

Words: 9.5k

Pairing: Soft Yandere OT7! x Chubby Camgirl! Reader

Summary: Graduation day approaches as details begin to get put into order, but on a call with Jungkook, details about something else entirely come into focus

Warnings: trauma, assault, stalking, wrist rubbing wounds, blood on wrists from fingernails, intense scene, blood, delusions, attempted noncon kissing, tearing shirt, victim-blaming (none of which done by the members), panic attack, hysterical crying, mention of police downplaying stalking, detective character is in a flashback, obsessiveness, protectiveness, reference made to parental abuse

The sun was at its highest point as your feet swung mere inches from the floor in the barstool chair you sat in while you watched Jin cook. You leaned your chin on your hand as you watched his broad shoulders tense while he engaged in an argument with the youngest member of the house. Though, you could hardly tell what the argument was about as your tongue swiped across your bottom lip at the thought of hooking your legs over those shoulders, similar to the way you had mere hours ago.

Jin had taken Saturday off which led to you being in his bed Friday night and reaping the carnal benefits of it first thing in the morning. However, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted to skip lunch and just go to the couch and-

“-Right, bunny?” The doctor’s voice snapped you from your blissful fantasy as your eyes met him, confusion clearly glossed over it and he sighed, “You already have your cap and gown, right?”

You nodded, “Yes! I just have to do another round of dye, the orange made it this weird dirt brown color so I-”

“See? Y/n has her…” He stopped, glancing at you with creased brows, “D-Dye? Why would you need…”

You chuckled, “Oh, I’m using my high school cap and gown to save some money.”

Jin balked at this, the voice of Jungkook snapping him from his disbelief, “She said she is uh… dyeing her old high school- Yeah, I know!- I said I- Fine!” He huffed, rolling his eyes as he hung up the phone.

Your head tilted to the side innocently, “Everything okay?”

Jin’s hard gaze landed on you but softened upon contact, “He’s gonna be calling you on his next break, but knowing him, I probably have five minutes to figure this out.” He muttered the last part bitterly before sighing and placing his hand over the one resting on the counter, “Do you… need money?” He had no time to think of a more delicate way to ask under his time limit and winced at the delivery.

Instead of a defensive scoff, he received a jovial laugh, “What?” You giggled, shaking your head, “No, silly! You won’t let me pay for rent anymore because we fucked in your trunk, let alone groceries, so my expenses have been cut in half but my income is the same.” You couldn’t help your chuckles, “I’ve never been more financially stable in my life!”

The crude language you used simultaneously made his pants tight and his eyes roll, "Fucked in my trunk, became my girlfriend, so many ways to say the same thing." He mumbled before giving you a pointed look and you giggled, leaning forward as he held himself back from glancing at your cleavage "I don't want you to pay rent because I simply don't need you to and-" He paused as you gave him a loving gaze, "Stop distracting me!" He pointed a finger at you and your smirk only grew.

"Fine, fine." You broke your gaze and waved a dismissive hand, "I'll stop flirting, ask the question I know you want to ask."

He sighed in half relief and half disbelief that he succeeded, “So why are you dyeing your graduation gown from four years ago?” He asked quizzically and you responded with a similar gaze.

“Well, I can’t be frivolous now.” You stated matter-of-factly, “Especially for some over-priced green polyester….” You trailed off as you watched the gears turn in Jin’s head. Jin had no idea how to put anything delicately, but he knew he could not be as blunt and forceful as he wanted to be, “No, no, no.” You held a finger up before he could voice his offer, “You’re not spending any money on my graduation-”

“And who said little lambs make any decisions about what we spend our money on?” Taehyung’s dulcet voice emerged from the stairs with Namjoon in tow.

You scoffed at this, “Oh come on, what’s so wrong with being thrifty?” You put your hands on your hips, only breaking your pout to give both of the entering men a quick kiss before they took their place to stand on either side of you.

Namjoon snorted at this, “Tell that to your bathtub.” He uttered.

You gasped, “How did you know?!” Your lower lip stuck out at the green tint you’d been having the worst time getting rid of. When the orange gown showed no signs of getting any greener, you had just dumped the whole bottle on it. Part of you felt scammed by the dye, but the chokehold it had on your porcelain tub identified the culprit as your neglect in utilizing the basics of color theory and reading directions properly.

The man simply smirked, “You just told me.”

“Damnit.” You groaned, before looking up at Jin sheepishly, “I’ll pay for the industrial-grade bleach, don’t worry.”

The older man simply cocked a brow at you as Taehyung’s light snickers could be heard, “How cute.” He cooed mockingly.

“Or you could spare your tub and let me buy the gown.” He reasoned and you huffed. How had you not expected him to say that? Now you really couldn’t deny him, not when you had just admitted to just about ruining an expensive garden tub just because you didn’t want to put out the money for a gown.

“This was such a setup.” You grumbled, “Fine, but that’s all you’re spending on my graduation.” you crossed your arms.

Jin shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not.” His smile was evident as he turned around to tend to the food after dialing a number on his phone.

Before you could object, Taehyung took your chin in his hand, fixing his eyes onto you, “Don’t pout, little lamb.” His thumb swiped at your lip, “We just want to make the day special, like you deserve.”

Your face scrunched. You couldn’t wrap your head around what was so special about it. Jungyoon had only told you he would try to make it if work allowed, and he had practically raised you, so why did your boyfriends want to make it such an event? You didn’t even get to see Jungyoon at your high school graduation, so you figured your college one was of similar importance. Sure, you were excited to get your degree and it was nice the guys were willing to sit through the whole thing just for a few seconds of you on a stage shaking hands. However, you figured it was because of Jungkook they were going anyways. Although, even Mona called for your measurements, insisting on getting you a dress before promising to call you again soon. Meanwhile, your uncle hadn’t called you since you moved in to make sure you turned in your key to your old apartment on time.

Well, he did call again, but he ended up speaking to Yoongi more than you. A chill rushed through your skin at the thought of your last phone call with him. You had to hand it to Yoongi for not prying for further explanation of your visceral reaction to a simple conversation with your supposed adopted father. You glanced down at your hands, eyes lingering on your wrists as you tilted your head. Jungyoon probably felt like he had a good reason to be so cold and woefully distant. Hell, maybe he did have a good reason.

Sure, he texted you, but he seldom responded after you did. Why were these people you met fairly recently, albeit some of which had just come to love you, seem to care more than your family? Maybe that’s not a fair comparison. Jungyoon knew a lot about you, and maybe that’s why he kept his distance. Maybe, when they find out more about you, they too will-

“Petal,” Namjoon whispered in your ear, and instead of jumping like you usually would when spacing out, you leaned back against his form to look up at him. You settled against the warmth of his chest against your back and soaked his cologne into your senses as a means to quiet your running mind. He smiled and it was as if he could see your thoughts, but he said nothing of them, “You deserve to be celebrated, and we love to celebrate you, so will you indulge us?”

“Let your boyfriends spoil their girlfriend, hm?” Taehyung mused, and the official terms made your cheeks warm. You really did have six boyfriends, huh? The want for a seventh was buried deep within you, along with the guilt of being so greedy, but you were willfully distracted with one of them kissing your hand, “We’re a clingy bunch, so we want any excuse to pamper you.” The voice actor knew he had to tread lightly and not shit-talk the uncle you seemed to care about infinitely more than Jungyoon cared for you. While he would be accurate in saying so, he didn’t have the heart to say you had been emotionally neglected all of your life only to land in the laps of obsessive men that wanted nothing more than to worship you, so he just gave you a loving gaze.

His eyes were soft and sincere. Taehyung had always been good at using his puppy eyes and it was hardly fair as you nodded, but the kiss Namjoon gave you made you forget about your fears for a moment, “If that’s what you guys really want, then okay.” You relented softly against his mouth.

“Good girl.” He pecked you one more time, “Would hate to have to be late to a session to punish you.” His mischievous grin betrayed his words as your breath hitched.

Taehyung caught your attention as he place a hand on your thigh, “Don’t worry, he’s lying.” He reassured you before his smirk grew, “He’d love to skip the session and spend time ruining your pretty makeup.”

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief, “Did Jin make you guys come over here just to convince me?” You couldn’t turn your head to glare at the doctor in question due to Taehyung’s captivating gaze.

Namjoon hummed before kissing your head, “No, actually, we just came to say hi real quick.”

Taehyung nodded, “It’s a crime to go a week without seeing your girlfriend, and we were dangerously close to it.” You rolled your eyes playfully, but the notion that they even thought of you when you weren’t in their line of sight made your stomach flutter, “Most of us will be home tomorrow though, so we can fight for your attention then.” You felt excitement spread in your stomach. It had been a long while since you had all of them in the same room, especially after your relationships with them had been established, so the idea had you giddy.

After saying goodbye and eating lunch, Jin also left to make some arrangements, odds are to sort out your cap and gown since he insisted you stay home and relax. Though you wanted to object, he reminded you of the call with Jungkook you would eventually have. This made you shut up as you kissed him goodbye and went up to your room to lay on your bed and edit some of the videos you would be posting tomorrow.

Finally, your phone rang with a video call from Jungkook. This made you pause since you hadn’t seen his face since he left for tour, but you had no time to be nervous or check your appearance as you answered on your laptop. He was clearly in his rocking chair between shoots seeing as you recognized the wood and he had his makeup fully done but a beanie on his head that obscured the bulk of his hair, “Hey.” You tried to sound upbeat but you cringed at your awkward greeting.

The idol simply disregarded it before narrowing his eyes at you, “Are you… topless?”

You gasped, looking down to make sure your tube top didn’t disappear before chuckling, “No, no.” You reassured him, moving your camera down for a moment, neglecting to remember you were basically just giving him a shot of your barely-covered boobs before pointing it back to your face.

Jungkook swore his throat closed when he caught a glance of your breasts being pushed together in a top that could barely contain them. He wasn’t even sure why he asked, maybe he really was going insane not having you near him, “A-Anyway, are you doing okay?" You hardly noticed his stuttering among the nervous buzzing in your brain. You and Jungkook had mostly texted this whole time, and talking to him almost always ended in some sort of bickering. He was extremely hard to read and harsh with his words, but over text, he was ironically much more expressive. It was hard to tell which version of him was most honest with his emotions.

You nodded wordlessly but he narrowed his eyes at you. It was almost chilling how sometimes he could just see right through you, “I mean, I’m doing alright.” You shrugged, “I’m nervous and Jungyoon called the other day. It just threw me off my rhythm.”

He simply nodded, shifting in his seat as he tried to think of the words to say. This always frustrated him, being able to read you like a book but having no idea what to do about it. He wasn’t like the others, understanding of delicate emotion. He was terribly perceptive and even more terribly mean because that was all he had to be for the longest time for his own protection. Still, the mention of your uncle made his skin nearly itch.

He swallowed before saying anything, “I see.” He simply spoke and it put you a bit on edge. What did that mean? “Did you… talk to any of the others about it?”

You tilted your head, unsure of the answer, “Yoongi was there. He finished the call for me.” You shrugged, “There’s not much to talk about, I think.” You were lying. Jungkook could see it, and you could taste it on your tongue no matter how much you tried to internally deny it, “He just called to ask about my graduation, kind of.” Jungyoon didn’t ask, he just stated things. The only thing he did ask was if you were as much of a burden to the others as you were to him, even if that wasn’t his exact wording.

“Is he going?” Jungkook couldn’t shield the distaste in his voice even if he wanted to, not that you could blame him as you sighed.

“No idea, probably not.” You shrugged, “If he didn’t go to my high school one, I don’t see why he’d go now.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “He didn’t go to your high school graduation?” He spat the question, and his angered tone put you on high alert but you did your best to remain cool.

“I had grown used to him not being there by then and I’m more than used to it now.” You were suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze on your shoulder, feeling more exposed as the man in front of you dug into your relationship with your uncle, “Jungyoon’s just busy, that’s all.” Your smile was strained and made his jaw clench.

The lie could be spotted a mile away, but he let it go despite how it ticked at his patience, "Have you figured out your cap and gown stuff?"

You sighed, “Yeah, Jin is going out to get me a set as we speak.”

“Good.” He was firm and you locked eyes with him when he continued, “You don’t have to live like that anymore, you know?” He spoke, just as firm but slightly quieter, "I hate that shit." There was that spiteful tone again.

You scrunched your nose, “And what do you know about how I used to live?” Defensiveness crept up your spine and you hated how easily a simple tonal shift could tick away at your temper with Jungkook. You don’t know why he put you on the defensive, but he was just so hard to read. Although the last time Jungkook brought up your life before you moved in, it led to a huge fight so maybe you were just gearing up for one just in case.

It was his turn to be confused for a moment, but he was evidently more irritated, “What don’t I know? We’re in the same university department.”

Your heart stopped for a moment at his implication. He knew. Did he tell the others? No, no way he did, or else they would have asked you about it by now. Though him knowing was hardly ideal either. You didn’t know if you could mentally handle another person you like discounting your experience as Jungyoon had so bitterly done and continued to do. “You mean you know about my accident?’ You sat up a bit straighter and felt your mouth dry, prepared to beg him to see your side of things and believe you.

“Accident?” He spit the word with so much disgust you nearly flinched. You tried to scramble to build up an emotional defense that would be able to take the blow of a guy you really liked, regardless of his temper, but you knew nothing would make his disregard sting any less. You thought he was a good man- but maybe you’re the issue. Maybe you keep making good men into cold, distant, or even violent ones. Maybe whatever mean shit Jungkook was going to come out with was what you deserved, “What do you mean? It wasn’t an accident!” He stopped rocking on the chair as he watched pure confusion flood your features, “Why do you keep saying that?” He definitely looked angry, but not at you. Something between relief and melancholy was drowning your brain as you tried to process his reaction, but you remained stuck on his question.

You wanted to ask yourself the same question. You knew it wasn't an accident, but calling it anything else would have surely wrenched a mountain of questions from people who had questions about the scars and faded bruising on your wrists. You were by no means a private or shielded person, but telling people about what happened to you meant gawking and the risk of watching their face morph into Jungyoon’s disgust. He was the only person you had throughout the whole ordeal and nearly had a conniption each time you called it anything but your fault. Yesterday was proof enough. Maybe saying it so many times made you start to believe it. Or it made it easier to pretend you did.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, and instead of digging up the answer to his question you felt annoyance bleed out of your mouth, “What do you know about what happened?” You accused, “Don’t tell me you keep track of campus rumors.” The thought of his understanding of one of the worst nights of your life coming from a source as unreputable as your department’s gossip mill made your guts twist in disgust.

This seemed to only anger him more, “Rumors? I was there.” He scoffed, almost offended you thought an idol would believe rumors so easily, “Are you seriously pretending you don’t remember me still?!”

His words were ice water in the electricity of your veins, shocking you silent for a moment as you brought your head up to study his face. He wasn’t lying, not that he ever made lying a habit of his as far as you could see, but what the hell was he saying? You were at the hospital alone until you woke up. You would’ve remembered a worldwide pop star at the hospital.

“Pretending? Why would I-” You shook your head in disbelief, “I know you weren’t there, the only person there was-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He fought the urge to shout, and your brows drew in on themselves. He was dead serious, “I was at the hospital, making sure he didn’t…”

Fear painted your features and when he finally looked at you, he paused.

Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks and closed his eyes for a moment. Fuck, fuck. He should’ve just said he believed the rumors. He shouldn’t have even brought it up but the thought of you living anything like the shell you were ticked him off. He watched you work too hard for you to just go back in on yourself. The last thing you needed mere days before graduation was a reminder of that bastard. The facade he thought you had been putting up had been eating him alive though. He constantly felt on edge just looking at you, wondering why you pretended to meet him for the first time when he was at your side that night. He had been at your side for so long and for you to just introduce yourself to him like nothing made his nerves flare, but avoiding you was an agony like no other.

Meanwhile, you were put on pause as you processed it all. Your thoughts had come to an abrupt stop right when you needed them most. How could Jungkook had been there? You knew that day like the back of your hand. You had to reiterate it countless times to countless detectives and lawyers.

////

You wanted to close your eyes but didn’t want to risk them needing to replay the video. Detective Moon wasn’t an exceptionally kind woman, so you didn’t want to make her job or your day any harder as she played the video.

You were in a white crop top as you smiled slyly at the camera, “Hi guys, welcome in, love to have you all.” You giggled, obviously fake to you but real enough to the viewers, as you seemed to be reading a comment, “Am I tired of carrying around my breasts all day? Why? Do you want to carry them for me?” The pings and tips can be heard along with a short fake laugh, “I could use a cute little servant at my beck and call, maybe, to give me a nice massage when I need it.” It was now you could just barely make out the sound of a door creaking open over the pings.

You shifted uncomfortably next to Jungyoon who was deadly silent along with Detective Moon. You wanted to glare at her for not insisting he leave, but you doubted she cared much about your comfort as she waited mere hours before making you relive the trauma. You bit your lip, wrapped up in a blanket as you fought the urge to cry, knowing what was coming, It was like watching a horror movie for the second time, and you wanted nothing more than to beg the protagonist to run, get out of there, grab a bat, something, anything to avoid-

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You didn’t have time to muster a fake laugh before a sickly sweet voice spoke.

“I would, my precious thing.” His voice was sickly even and smug. You watched your eyes snap to his form and you screamed. The sound was piercing and made Jungyoon jump but you remained defeatedly still.

It was painful, watching your face twist from confusion to horror with an overwhelming wave of fear. Watching it back now, it was so abrupt. It was a poorly-paced horror film, and it all happened way too quickly. Regardless, the fear on your face was undeniable, and it would be nice to pretend what you were watching was just a bad movie, but you could see real horror on your features, too real to be considered an act that didn’t creep under your skin even as the laptop slammed down, obscuring the picture in black. Although, much to your misfortune, the live stream continued.

You could hardly hear your screams blowing out your mic over the pings, but you barely registered the pings being a sign of the stream going amidst your panic. The thought made you sick you watched the comments continue making requests. All while you begged for help, “Get off me!” You screeched and could hear the scuffle just as clearly as it was in your nightmares, “Who are you?! How did you get in?!”

“I love you, you know me!” He insisted, voice far too comfortable in his lies. A chill crawled up your spine as he played the role of a soothing boyfriend like it was the truth. He spoke to you like you were overreacting and it made your skin prick.

You allowed your eyes to close this time, not that you could see anything with the tears in them, but you clearly remembered the flurry of his face, his eyes, his dry and calloused hands rubbing over your wrists as you struggled. His lips were chapped as he tried to push them against yours but that's when you really started thrashing and the whole thing became a blur. His nails were short, but jagged enough to cut in your skin as he straddled you. He weighed less than you but the fear he elicited suffocated your form, You remembered not even registering the damage he was doing to your skin as you pleaded for him to get off of you and begged for help. You could hear a distinct tear before a heavy thump and a groan. Yes, this was the part where your thrashing paid off after he tore your shirt, giving you the leeway to knee him in the groin. Your footsteps were unorganized but quick before the door slammed. You begged this version of you to run even faster, knowing there wasn’t much time before-

“Stupid thing!” He groaned before you could hear heavy footsteps and the same door slam.

The video ended and you opened your eyes to look at your raw wrists, purple and red to represent the broken capillaries and broken skin, the jagged crescent gashes held dried blood in place of scabs now, you still weren’t done losing part of yourself at his hands, “I understand this is difficult, but can you tell me what happened when the screen went black.”

You swallowed deeply, “A man I didn’t know had emerged from my closet and when he saw me panic, he slammed the laptop shut.” Your breathing shuddered as you fisted the hospital blanket in the private room you woke up in, “Then he straddled me, pinning my wrists down. I struggled, but his grip was too strong and I could barely breathe.” Your words were as distant as you could get them, wanting to be as far away from the whole event as you could. Maybe if you told it without emotion you wouldn’t feel so shitty.

“Did he restrict your breathing in any way?” She asked and you shook your head.

“No, I think I was having a panic attack.” She hummed in understanding but Jungyoon remained stone, “He was yelling, and yelling makes me freak out even more.”

“Why is that?” The question made you swallow hard, making you feel like a child that had rehearsed lines to tell for this line of questioning that you once were. However, you no longer had to fear being separated from your family for the truth anymore.

“My biological mother and my father, they had a volatile relationship with each other..” The detective raised and brow, knowing that wasn’t the end, so you sighed, “...and me.” You murmured and saw Jungyoon stiffen.

“Where are they now?” You could almost scoff at how loaded the question was. The short answer was you didn’t really know, but the most honest answer was-

“My mom left when I was 15 and my dad died when I was 14.” You explained, but the words stung. You didn't like talking about either of them, but even the mention of your dad made Jungyoon scowl.

“Okay, you can continue with what happened.” She could clearly see you were uncomfortable talking about your parents.

“Well, he was trying to talk to me and tell me how I knew him and he loves me, how I was his… thing.” This made you pause, repulsed you, “Like I wasn’t human like I didn’t have a right to resist him or something.” You bit your lip before going further. It was certainly not the first time you had been treated subhuman and you doubted it would be the last, but that paired with the attack made you nauseous, “I could hardly hear him over the yelling and my panic and the pinging. Then, he got frustrated because I wouldn’t stop struggling.”

“Was he trying to do something?”

You nodded with a pained look as the sheets turned into a glob of blue, “He was trying to kiss me, he talked about how much he wanted to touch me but he had to keep my wrists pinned, but I kept moving, so he took one hand off of my wrists and ripped my shirt. Guess he gave up on the kiss.” You glanced at the scrap of white fabric on the counter across the room, “I kneed him in the groin and that thump was when he fell off of me.” You wiped your tears as you struggled to take a breath, “Then I ran out, wearing nothing but that shirt, my bra, and shorts.”

“Then what happened?”

“I ran until I reached the University hospital. I only live a few blocks from it, so it wasn’t hard.” You muttered, ignoring the cuts in your feet as you spoke, “Then, I think I collapsed after I made eye contact with a nurse.”

“You don’t remember anything after reaching the hospital?” She raised a brow and you shook your head.

“Not well, and nothing substantial.” You shrugged, “Everything was super loud, I was freaking out, and I just kept bleeding.” You remember the nurse saying he nicked a vein with his thumbnail,

“Thank you, y/n.” Detective Moon spoke, “I understand it must have been very difficult to relive that while you’re healing. She stood and took the laptop, “That’s enough for today. We have already identified the attacker, so hopefully, we can settle out of court to avoid further trauma in court-”

“Sorry, who is he?” You looked up at her and she hesitated before sighing.

“Woo Donghee. He is a medical student in your university and he was a subscriber of yours who went by the name-”

“DrLove.” You shuddered, the name having haunted you for months before this, “I remember, I had to ban him not long ago because he kept making threats that he would steal me away.”

“He was? Did you report this?” She looked at you intently, as if ready to scold you.

You scoffed at her accusatory tone, “I did, but the local precinct said there was nothing to be done.” You cast a pointed look to her and she cursed under her breath. You were told a simple “internet troll” was nothing to waste resources on, especially when you had no name or even evidence he was in the country. Little did you know he was right there… he was-, “Woo. That’s the name of the Dean.” You looked up at her and noticed her nervous shift. The dean was a big name and an even bigger donor to everything he could reach, including the police. He wasn’t a socialite, but he was certainly well-connected. If you were attacked by the dean’s son, your case was as good as over.

Detective Moon cleared her throat, “Yes, he is the dean’s son, it’s how he got your address. We believe he had been living in and out of your closet for over a week.” You choked out a sob. He was right there, not just in your home but in your school, watching and waiting, and he was going to get away with it. If anything, you would be kicked out from- “You’re being sponsored by the Women’s Advocacy Coalition, and a lawyer will be handling the case-”

“Lawyer? How much is this lawyer?” You glanced to Jungyoon who spoke for the first time since you had woken up, “I don’t have the money-”

You could barely pay attention to Jungyoon as your face twisted in confusion. Sponsored? How were you sponsored just like that, mere hours after your attack? Did the kind nurse notify someone?

“Sir, we can discuss the arrangements at a later time.” She snapped, bringing you from your thoughts “For now, you stay with your daughter-”

“Niece.” He snipped and you flinched at his tone, “And I also need to discuss this private room. She is under her own insurance-”

“Right now your niece needs support, so we can discuss this-”

“How can I support her if she drains me from hospital and lawyer fees-”

“Just go.” You finally breathed, “Go, discuss what you need to discuss. I’ll pay for whatever I have to.” You pleaded, “Just please, leave me alone for now.”

You didn’t look up again as Detective Moon led him out of your room and you were reduced to nothing but tears, regret, and the aching need to scrub your skin raw.

////

You remembered that day and the attack like it were yesterday, but everything between reaching the hospital and waking up had been a blur. You remembered clearly being there for the sentencing and reading your witness statement as Donghee stood behind you clad in handcuffs. You remembered Jungyoon’s cold demeanor became ice throughout the whole process. The hurtful words and blatant disregard of your feelings, the psych evals, the whispers on campus, the months it took before you could walk a few paces without checking over your shoulder, the way you had to move into a building filled with seven men before you could be home and not check behind every door and under every surface to make sure someone wasn’t hiding, even the money you lost when you stopped doing live streams and shifted to pre-recorded content and photos. You even stopped advertising to a wider, more vanilla, crowd and stuck strictly to more kink-specific content with clear limits and expectations. You remembered it all but not those hours of darkness and blurring.

“Forget it.” Jungkook finally grit out, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I just thought you were pretending not to remember me, and I got why it just-”

“Tell me what happened.” You looked at him with pleading eyes that pierced his stone barrier with eerie ease, the miles away you were from one another or the blue light of his phone doing nothing to stop him from cracking at your vulnerable desperation, “I don’t remember anything really from when I passed out in the lobby of the ER until I woke up with Jungyoon and that Detective.” Jungkook blinked hard and you fought tears, “What do you mean you had to stop him?” Your lower lip quivered and it was like a knife in his chest as he watched fear consume your eyes for the second time in his life, “Stop him from what?” Your voice seemed to be pleading more than asking, but he didn’t want to succumb to your words.

“Y/n, you don’t need to hear what happened.” His voice was much softer, “He’s behind bars and it’s done-”

“It’s not!” You cried, and Jungkook looked taken aback by your outburst, “It’s not done!” You buried your face in your hands as sobs took control of your body and he would’ve given anything to be there to hold you steady, “He’s still in my skin! They’ve faded, but if I so much as zone out for long enough, I can feel his hands on me. I-I can hardly wear a white crop top without feeling sick. It’s not done just because he’s in prison, my father fucking died and I’m still scared of him, how is prison any different?” You were so frustrated, you couldn’t see Jungkook’s jaw clench at the mention of the father you never dared to breathe a word of. You were so upset, you hadn’t even realized you mentioned him. The fear and pain in your voice set something off within him, some sort of base need to destroy anyone who made you tremble, “Now, Jungyoon talks to me even less while Donghee has one year left of his sentence-”

“No, he doesn’t.” He refuted and you balked at him, “Why do you think Dean Woo stepped down when you came back to school and not right when that bastard got charged?” You were finally started to calm down ever so slightly.

You shook your head in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Jungkook sighed. Fuck, he couldn’t tell you how he knew or what role he played, but he couldn’t have you thinking that fucker would even breath the same air as you any time soon, “Mona is a donor of the university, and she found out Dean Woo stepped down because Donghee got into worse trouble in prison and extended his sentence.” He snarled even saying their names. Dean Woo was just as unhinged as his son, it was only by the fact that he had not laid a hand on you that he remained on the university’s good graces.

You could hardly breathe as you shook your head. How did you not know about this? Then again, who would have told you? The police hardly had any interest in helping you and more in just being done with the case, “Are you lying?”

He scoffed, “Why the fuck would I do that?” He clicked his tongue, “I can’t believe you don’t remember...”

“So tell me what happened.” Your voice cracked Jungkook couldn’t bear the sight of your tears, Please, I need to know.”

“Why?” He asked and the question was simple enough and yet it broke you.

“Do you have any idea what I went through after I woke up?” You asked and while Jungkook didn’t know how to answer, you continued, “Jungyoon kept calling it an accident, not assault or an attack, an accident." Jungkook could kill your uncle if it wouldn't cause so many issues, "Donghee’s lawyer tried to argue I was inviting him to come into my house because of the shit I would say on my streams, so then the whole thing must’ve been an accident since Donghee misunderstood me.” He watched your gaze flicker to your wrists and he wanted so badly to hold your face in his hands, keeping your eyes on anything but the mark of a man that was as good as dead.

Jungkook’s anger flared and he could almost feel the wood on his rocking chair crack under his clenched fist. That fucking bastard. While he knew more about the case than he let on, just knowing that you were exposed to all of that makes his blood boil.

Your mouth was dry all over again as you recounted the horror of not only having your uncle watch part of your live stream but downplay your assault, “Jungyoon agreed. He blamed me. He sulked the whole time I was in the hospital, huffing about how much it was my fault, but he would still stay there all day.” Your stomach sank as you felt the anger you had barely reigned in during that time, “He got drunk the night I came home and told me all about how it was my fault it happened, how unnecessary it was for me to be in the hospital and how he never wanted to take me in and how the accident only-”

“It wasn’t a fucking accident!” The idol lost his composure, “It was assault, and it wasn’t your fucking fault Donghee is a delusional piece of shit who deserved everything he got.”

What did he mean? How did he know such intimate details of your assault when they were never made public record, that was part of the plea deal? How could he have known how unhinged Donghee was unless- “What happened at the hospital?’

“Y/n.” He warned, but when his eyes met yours the anger simmered and he wondered if you knew how powerful you were.

“I deserve to know.” You stressed, “You know I do.”

You were right, it wasn’t fair that you went this long without knowing, even if incidentally. He sighed, “I was heading to the reception desk after getting seen for an ankle injury and there you were. You were crying, but you were hardly coherent. Your wrists were bleeding and then some guy rushed to you.” He clenched his jaw, the memory still fresh in his mind, “He tried telling the nurses he was your boyfriend and he lost you at a club and they almost let him back.” You felt sick at the mere thought, “But then, you started crying even harder, begging for them not to. I guess you heard his voice or something. They asked you who they could call for you and you just kept repeating Jung but you couldn’t get the rest out.”

You could feel the memories start to come back to you as he spoke. He left almost no detail out. You could remember the beeping of the hospital machines and the commotion as the nurses tried to calm you down. You could almost hear Donghee’s pleading voice.

////

“Just let him back.” Jungkook could hear a doctor scowl, “He’s an intern here, he's a good kid-”

“He’s gonna kill me, please!” You cried, catching the concern of more nurses. The ER was vacant at 2 am on a Tuesday, but the commotion you were making echoes throughout the floor, “Don’t, please! Please!” Your agony was evident and his blood ran cold when he saw your figure as he paused by your curtain. Although he could hardly see your face, he knew your voice. He knew it all too well, arguably. The sound of your melodic tones twisted into fear made his heart clench, but he willed himself to entrust your safety in the doctors, something happened but there was nothing he could do-

“Please, she’s my girlfriend and I… I lost her outside of a bar and someone attacked her.” He could hear the man in question plead with the receptionist. Boyfriend? His eyes snapped to some man at least four years older than he was. He was dressed in a wrinkled white shirt and navy sweats, not exactly bar getup. While he kept his knowledge of you at as far of a distance as he could get, he did know you were single and you didn't go to bars, “Let me go see her, I’m all she has.” A lie. Jungkook knew it was a lie. Mona told him your uncle was listed as your only family and you were listed as an orphan. You were an orphan, just like him. It was one of several things that drew him to you time and time again as a fellow student, of course, nothing more. He tried his hardest not to pry into your life, he didn't even know what your job was, only knowing you were a streamer of some sort and no matter how much he wanted to keep tabs, he couldn’t, much. In fact, you had a stream tonight, if he remembered correctly. There’s no way you’d be at a bar with some random man.

“Who can we call for you?” He heard a nurse say as the doctor rolled his eyes, making Jungkook’s blood boil, especially in contrast to the soft-spoken bedside manner the same doctor had with him just moments before.

“Why would Donghee lie-” The doctor began but was cut off by you.

“Jung… Jung…” You were choking on your sobs and he should've just kept walking but couldn't. Could you seriously be bleeding and crying out for someone behind that curtain? He knew Jungyoon was your uncle’s name, but you were so close to saying his and this Donghee was trying to push his way to you. You needed someone, but it wasn’t his place to be that someone-

“Me!” Jungkook looked to the nurse, “I’m Jungkook.” He affirmed, “I have no idea who he is, but she's my responsibility.”

Adrenaline began to pump through him as he watched helplessly while you were riding the treacherous waves of a horrible panic attack. What the hell was he doing? The last thing you needed was for him to bother you, but he couldn’t stand by and let some guy try to take advantage of you.

The nurse nodded and your cries quieted when you heard them calling security, “Jungkook is here, it’s okay.”

He pushed his way behind the curtain and saw you. Your eyes were screwed shut, makeup still intact except for the slight smear of your lipstick. You brought your hands up to your face and that’s when he saw the blood. Your wrists had smeared blood and half-moon wounds that only oozed more. His breathing became short when he saw your torn shirt, purple bra showing through the ruined fabric. A fierce rage bubbled inside of him. He always had a problem with his temper but this was unlike anything he felt before and he had to grip the rail beside your bed to keep himself grounded.

“No, he’s lying!” The other man cried out, and Jungkook’s knuckles were turning white, “That’s my girl!” You wailed at this, all the progress made to a quiet cry undone and that was the final straw breaking Jungkook’s restraint.

He was going to just yell at the guy until he caught notice of the dried blood surrounding the man’s fingers. His lip curled at the jagged look of them, unkempt and slathered in half-dried copper. Half. Dried. Just like some of the streaks of the same color running down your arm.

It was in mere strides he made his way to him and it was with no hesitation that his fist drove into your attacker's face, a sickening crack doing nothing to satiate his need to hurt this man so much worse than he hurt you.

The man's body put up no resistance and even when it hit the ground with a resounding groan, it didn't deter the idol, “What did you do to her?!” His voice bounced off the walls as he landed a right hook into the cheek of your assailant. Donghee’s attempts at fighting back were as good as nonexistent. Jungkook could not allow him the grace of blinking away the pain, even if for only a second.

The med student's was covered in his own blood by the time the security guards finally showed up to break up the fight. The bastard's nose was gushing and his eyes were quickly reddening to match the cut in his lip. Jungkook’s hands were bloodied and bruised, his rings similarly stained with crimson but it still didn’t feel like enough, “Go be with your girlfriend, we got him.” A security officer who had failed to pull him off until an additional guard seethed and your cries brought him back to your bedside.

Needing to play up his role, he was at your side, promising you that you were safe until exhaustion claimed you. He didn’t touch you, knowing the last thing you needed was another stranger’s hands near you, but he spoke to you the whole time until your breathing was steady. He examined your resting face, thankful you were at peace for even just a little bit. Running on autopilot, he was up all night, making calls to Mona and his managers to clean up the metaphorical mess he made while a nurse cleaned the one on his hands. By the time you woke up, you had a lawyer that swore Jungyoon to secrecy, a private room in the hospital that was mysteriously paid for, and the doctor who almost put your life in jeopardy fired. By the time you went back to school, Donghee was locked up for a long time through a series of unfortunate orchestrated events.

////

“Then, I contacted my mother’s charity that specialized in getting legal representation for assault survivors, made sure they didn’t try to get publicity points off of you and let them take care of it.” He averted your eyes, “I didn’t want Donghee to get out of it with his daddy’s money.” He shrugged, unsure of how to mention it was him who gave them the money to sponsor your lawyer and your hospital stay. It would’ve felt like he was bragging about being some white knight when he didn’t really save you. You had to do it all yourself, and he didn’t want you to think any different. Jungkook wasn’t a good man, and he didn’t deserve for you to think any different of him.

Had Jungkook known Jungyoon was even half the asshole he was, you wouldn’t have dealt with him. You wouldn’t have had to go through going back to that place for even a day before he had Mona step in, “You stopped him.” You breathed, “He almost got to me again and you made sure he didn’t.”

He shrugged. You have always been too precious to put your safety into the hands of someone else. This was a lesson he learned the hard way, “I couldn’t stand by and let you get hurt again.” He looked down, unable to face you after being reminded of how terribly he had taken care of you, until he heard your choked sobs, “Fuck, I’m sor-”

“Thank you.” You cried, unable to do anything but repeat the phrase. Up until this point, the only thing that had validated your all-consuming fear and trauma from the assault was the kind correspondence of one of your professors during your hospital stay, but Jungkook was there. He saw it for himself and he didn’t see a hysterical girl, he saw a victim in active danger. He believed you. He believed you never wanted to be attacked. He never thought you were inviting this man to your body from a basic business transaction. He never questioned if you were blowing the situation out of proportion, and the relief of even one ally washed over you and out your eyes, “No one… No one ever cared when I was hurt or crying or anything.” You finally gasped out as you buried your face in your hands, “My own mother wouldn’t protect me from my dad, Jungyoon didn’t want to protect me from another attack, my viewers didn't even call the cops, but some idol I never talked to protected me for no reason.” That wasn’t completely true, Jungkook’s fixation on you began long before that night and would’ve continued regardless of it. Keeping his distance, his obsession with you, at bay had to be the worst decision he had ever made and would have to live with until every problem you ever faced was fixed. He owed you that much for not succumbing to his instincts when he clearly should’ve. Jungkook wanted to ask what in the ever-loving fuck you meant about your dad, but he didn’t want to upset you even further. That would have to wait until you were ready to tell him. All he could do was watch you cry and imagine all the things he would give to be there as you continued, “Thank you for protecting me."

He scoffed, as if he ever had a choice, as if he ever considered it a choice. It was his stupid purpose in life. He was always on the cusp of hating you for years. Hating the way you made him feel, hating the way you didn’t even know him, but he had never considered your protection anything but his responsibility since he saw what happened when he pushed down his instincts, “Don’t thank me for that.” He mumbled, “I’m always going to protect you.”

You paused, opening your mouth before you had any words to give him when you heard his manager calling for him, not that it phased him, “Go, Jungkook, I’ll be okay.” You softly chided and it was a knife to the heart not being able to hold you as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand.

He shook his head, “I’m not hanging up on you while you’re crying.” He looked appalled at the notion, “Are you even able to talk to the other guys about this?” He asked, hope that you could was burning in his stomach.

When you shook your head, his heart dropped, “Well, Jimin might know, but none of them really know what happened.” You swallowed hard, “I don’t want them to see me any different or.. Or.. um…” You fought the words, they were too sorry to say, let alone think.

“React like fucking Jungyoon.” He hissed and you opened your mouth to protest the obvious truth, but your mouth closed as you nodded defeatedly. He sighed, “I know they won’t.”

“How?” You asked, eyes glittering with a hope far too cautious and it made Jungkook want to kill Jungyoon, your mom, anyone who made you lose confidence in others and yourself.

Because we love you. He sighed, looking up briefly to send a glare to his shrinking manager who backed away from the door, “I just do.” There was not an ounce of doubt in his features, “But you tell them when you want, when you’re ready.”

You bit your lip for a moment, “You don’t think that’s… dishonest?” His brows scrunched and you tried to elaborate as tears began to cloud your vision again, “I mean, I’m their girlfriend and maybe they deserve to know I-I was attacked in case that makes them change-”

“What the fuck did I just say?” He snapped, making you jump and him curse under his breath when tears slipped from your eyes. He really had no fucking idea how to do this shit, but right now he was the only one that could. He took a calming breath before speaking again, “It’s… not their business, regardless of if you want to tell them. It’s your story.” He shrugged, trying his best to remember his time in therapy for you, “Even if it affected who you are, that’s all they need to know is who you are, and that’s what you’re giving them.” He could hardly look at you but if he had, he would see pure adoration in your eyes as his words soaked the doubt from your mind, even if only for a moment.

“W-What if I’m not giving them that?” You asked, still stuck in the cycle of using the event as an indicator of who you are and not how you came to be, even if you knew that’s what was happening, it was so hard to claw your way out of it. It was so hard to cease the search for reasons you don’t deserve companionship.

Jungkook fixed his gaze on your teary face and quirked a brow at your words, “You’re not a good liar, you know?” Your eyes widened at this, “You’re always you, I can tell.” It’s one of the many things he loved about you. He wanted to say it but he nearly swallowed his tongue when you laughed, “What?” He snapped his cheeks heating.

You shook your head, fighting another giggle, “Nothing, I just think it’s funny how you can see so much and still be grumpy while comforting me.” You smiled, a genuine one and you could hear the whining of Jungkook’s manager and before he could snap at the man, you spoke, “I’m feeling better, really, I’ll be okay.” You looked at the idol who was visibly torn, “I mean it.” you looked at him and he sighed when he saw no lie in your beautiful eyes.

This wasn’t fucking fair. He didn’t want to tell you like this, not where he couldn’t hold you in his arms and promise nothing like that would ever happen again.

"Call me if you're not, I mean it." He ordered, coming off more tender than he intended, "And don't fuss over the graduation stuff, okay? All we gotta do is walk the stage. Let the old men handle the rest." He didn't crack a smile but his heart soared in the way you laughed.

"Okay." He watched in awe as your smile met your eyes and only brightened as you admired his face, “Come home soon, yeah?” He nodded before hanging up the call, the fact that you wanted to see him was enough to get him through the next few days without you.

Jungkook leaned back, letting his manager's words turn to dust as he replayed your conversation. You thanked him for protecting you, and part of him wanted to smack himself for not doing so properly sooner but he couldn't stop the smile on his face when he thought of your laugh. You were in tears and then he made you laugh. Was that what it was like to comfort someone? The feeling of elation was like a drug and he wanted nothing more than to do better next time you need him to, soothe your pain, take it for his own and deal with it himself.

Any lingering guilt for what he did to Woo Donghee was long gone as he thought of you.

[fruitcoops]

oooo maybe you could write one where sirius parents bash him before a game and we see sirius, the team, parents reaction

This fic was pure catharsis. Thank you for the ask <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for past parental abuse (canon for Sirius' parents), attempted physical abuse, confrontation, emotional fallout, cutting ties with toxic family

And how do you feel about your youngest son’s decision to go to college?

Sirius taped his socks down with a black roll. The rainbow stared up at him from his duffel, unused and judgmental.

We’re very disappointed in Regulus. He’s throwing away an irreplaceable opportunity and we expected better after everything we’ve done for him.

Her voice had been controlled and deadly soft, with just the right amount of regret. She almost sounded sad, if that was an emotion she could feel.

And Sirius—

We don’t speak of Sirius, his father had interrupted. The interviewer had faltered in silent surprise. He’s made his choice.

He’s been very supportive of Regulus to the media—

He’s always been stubborn and contrary, ever since he was a child. The coldness Sirius remembered well from his childhood had leaked into his mother’s voice, taking away the false disappointment and replacing it with a cruel edge. He would say anything to go against us.

The interviewer had looked between them like a rat caught between two mountain lions, finally realizing the gravity of his fuckup. Sirius applauded him—it took him seven years to figure out just how dangerous that house was, and only thirty minutes for this stranger and his microphone.

Do you keep in contact with Sirius?

And then came the kill stroke. His father’s face like stone, and his mother’s nose high in the air as she spoke like the hissing snake. Sirius Black is the greatest regret of my life.

The interview had ended less than a minute after that statement. The reporter didn’t seem to know how to respond, and Sirius didn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day one was told point-blank someone’s parents wished they’d never been born.

A hand brushed his shoulder blade and he swiped his sleeve under his nose. Left skate, right skate, get up. Get up. Get up, play the game. “Mon fils?”

Dumo would be looking at him like he needed to be pitied. Revulsion rose up in his throat at the idea. “Ouais?”

There was a rustle as Dumo crouched to his level, turning his face away from the rest of the silent locker room. Shutting Remus out and ignoring everyone’s texts in the two hours since the video’s release had been difficult, but necessary. They had a game to win. He didn’t need people spilling their sympathy all over him about something he already knew, no matter how hollow he felt.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently. “Are you alright?”

“Let’s win this thing.”

“Sirius—”

“They didn’t exactly hesitate to tell me that to my face for eighteen years, Pascal,” he bit out, staring at the floor. He couldn’t bear to meet that kind gaze. Not when he needed to muster some anger to fuel him through the game. “I’ve known I was the family disappointment for years and it hasn’t stopped me yet.”

“Please don’t bottle this up.”

“It’s fine.” He sniffed again, though no tears threatened to fall. “This has always made me stronger.”

“You didn’t have to be strong,” Dumo said quietly. He sounded like his heart was breaking. “You were supposed to be safe and loved and—”

“None of that was an option, so I did the best with what I had.” A tremor was building in his stomach and he swallowed it down, gripping the edge of his seat. “I’m going to go warm up before anyone else starts pissing me off.”

It was a cruel thing to say. Something that his mother would do before guilt-tripping him. But at the moment, he’d rather ask for forgiveness later than fall apart like some poor, lost child who had finally reached his limit.

He took his stick and marched past the rest of his wary-eyed team, intent on burying the pain in a few good slapshots to get his head back in order before the fans arrived. Maybe he could ask Remus to sneak away for a quick, heavy makeout session or some other distraction that would ground his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to go into a game with his whole life tilted on its axis.

The door flew open before he even got a hand on the knob—he flinched as an armful of person fell into him and the door slammed closed again. Fingertips dug into his upper arms almost painfully as Regulus stared up at him. “Maman est là,” he hissed.

Maman est là. Words offered as a warning and an olive branch less than a year prior, words Sirius hadn’t heard since a canyon of ice and six years of separation sat between him and his brother. Even after everything they had been through, his stomach still leapt into his throat; finally, with a heave and a groan, the dam of hurt gave way to anger. “Where?”

“I saw them coming in. Nobody’s allowed into the rink yet, but they were going that way and I think they were at your house and they know I’m home from school and they’re looking for me.” Regulus was shaking as he clutched Sirius’ arms. There was an old fear rising in his gaze.

Sirius could feel his heartbeat in his ears. “How do you know?”

“La vidéo. They know they lost you, but I’m still fair game. They were coming for something, and I’m the only thing they have left.”

Sirius Black is the greatest regret of my life.

Sirius took a deep breath through his nose, holding Regulus’ shoulders loosely as he choked back the urge to hide. They had always been good at that—for all its faults, Grimmauld Place didn’t lack for nooks just big enough for two small children to curl up in. “You’re okay,” he heard himself say. He should have known better than to think his mother would give up that easy after All Stars. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it.”

“Cap, we can handle them,” Talker said quietly behind him. The weight of their eyes pressed heavy on his shoulders.

Sirius stayed silent for a long moment before running a hand down his face. He could wait for security to kick them out of the rink, or for his teammates to be bravely stupid and fight that battle for him. He could hide with Regulus, then go out and lose a game. That was safe.

And yet safe had never been an option for Sirius when it came to his parents, and he was tired of walking on eggshells around them. He was tired of running away, of pretending like they didn’t haunt him, of constantly wondering whether they would slip back into his life when he least expected it. He had loved them, once. He liked to think they had loved him, too. But he was done clinging to the scraps.

“I’ll take care of it,” he repeated with a reassuring squeeze of Regulus’ shoulders and a kiss to the top of his head. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way out of the locker room, lonely and cold until they were joined by others tumbling over each other. “I didn’t ask you to come with me.”

“Don’t even start,” Remus said dryly. James just scoffed.

“I don’t want you to come with me,” he tried again, though his courage surged at the sounds of their voices.

“Say bad things about captain, say bad things about team,” Kuny said. There was none of his jolly humor in his deep brown eyes when Sirius glanced back. “Wait to meet assholes for very long time.”

Two black-clad figures—mon dieu, the drama never stops with them—stood stark against the red and gold stands as the six of them entered the rink. His heart stuttered in spite of himself. They were arguing with a pair of security guards, but his mother stopped when she saw him. Her pale hand rested on his father’s arm, and then Sirius was bearing the full weight of their combined gazes for the first time in over a year.

He was seven, and got caught sneaking an extra glass of juice from the fridge.

He was freshly ten years old, and Andromeda had put her sparkly hair clips in his too-long bangs as a joke that his parents didn’t appreciate.

He was fifteen, and desperately keeping back tears while their silent disappointment filled the car in a choking cloud.

He was twenty-three, and Thanksgiving went from bad to worse and he knew he couldn’t hide that mark from Pascal.

He was twenty-seven, and he had five members of the best family he knew flanking him. Not fighting his battles, but supporting him.

A slender hand touched his lower back and he let out a slow breath. “We’ve got you,” Remus murmured.

Every step was steady as they crossed the ice; the shush of half a dozen pairs of skates soothed him. “Orion,” he said as they pulled to a stop. “Walburga.”

Her thin lips twitched. Of all the features they shared, he was grateful he had skipped that particular one; he’d rather not spend his life looking like his favorite hobby was sucking on lemons. “Sirius.”

Next to him, James’ breathing was tightly controlled. “Why are you here?” Sirius asked. Straight to the point. Give them nothing to bite at.

“We’ve come to take Regulus home.”

“He’s not here.”

“Liar,” his father snapped. Sirius clenched his jaw around a flinch. “He’s not as sneaky as he likes to think.”

Sirius kept his chin high. “You’re not allowed to see him.”

“Oh, petit, you sound like me,” his mother cooed.

He took a deep breath to calm the tide of snarling fury. “Get out.”

“No.”

One of the security guards stepped forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Black, nobody is allowed in the stands for another—”

“I wasn’t addressing you,” Walburga said icily, not breaking eye contact with Sirius as she held her palm up to the man. “Speak when you are spoken to.”

The poor man seemed baffled, and Sirius offered a slight shake of his head when he looked over. “Neither of you are welcome here and you know it. You made your feelings toward me perfectly clear earlier today. Rest assured I will not contact you.”

Manicured nails, sharp as claws and twice as deadly, curled around the boards as she leaned forward an inch. “We’re not here for you, mon regret.”

To his right, Leo’s breathing went shallow. “Get out of this rink,” he said, voice low like Sirius had never heard.

“I wasn’t speaking to—”

“Drop the attitude,” Remus interrupted. Sirius’ chest hitched with instinctive fear, but he stayed put. “You’re no better than anyone here, Walburga.”

Her steel grey eyes flickered over them before settling on Sirius again; he reveled in the faint pink flush of anger on her cheeks. “Control tes chatons et ta pute before they shame you further.”

“They’ve been more of a family to me than you ever were. Get out of here before you shame yourself.”

“You’re a failure and a disgrace.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“We’re not leaving without Regulus,” his father said. The warning in his tone reminded Sirius of an avalanche siren, inevitable and familiar, marking the moments before cold pain set in.

Sirius gripped the bench in front of him until his knuckles were white. “Over my dead body.”

Movement flashed in his periphery and he caught his father’s wrist half a foot from his face as five shouts cut off behind him. Adrenaline flashed to his heart like lightning—he had never stopped a hit before, just taken them and then moved on. Bones and joints flexed under his fingers and shadows covered his father’s brow. “You—”

“Lay a hand on me again and I swear to god this whole country will know what selfish, cruel, and disgraceful excuses for parents you are.” A shaky feeling spread all the way through Sirius’ abdomen. His father’s wrist felt surprisingly fragile in his loose hold. “I will drag your name through the mud and I will enjoy every second of it.”

“Is this how you repay us for everything we gave you?” his mother hissed through her pearl-perfect teeth. “Everything we did, we did to make you better.”

“And it was never good enough,” Sirius snapped. He knew his voice was louder than he had tried to keep it, but the fear was fading and the anger was dimming and he just wanted it to be over. He wanted to be done with the dance he had been forced into since he was too young to understand. “Nothing I did was ever good enough for you, and you made me think it was my fault for falling short of your bullshit expectations.”

“Watch your language when you address—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Soul-sucking silence fell over the room and Sirius felt his heart skip a beat before something like glee bubbled in his stomach at the sight of his mother’s abject shock. “For once in your life, shut the fuck up when I’m speaking to you. Are you listening to me now?”

He took their lack of response as a ‘yes’.

“I’m not your property,” he continued, releasing his father’s hand. “Regulus is not your property. You have no claim to either of us and I will be damned before I see you take his happiness away. I have a family. You have nothing. Get out.”

“You are an ungrateful child and always have been.” Walburga had returned to her lethal softness, but it didn’t scare him as much as it had when his life felt as if it was in free-fall. “You would rather throw your lot in with cheaters and thieves before returning to your family.”

“You threw away your chance at being my family the second you started treating me like a profit instead of your son.” Sirius swallowed hard as the words left a bittersweet taste on his tongue. “I didn’t ask them to come here with me, but they did it because they care about me. I am not a successful hockey player because of anything you did. I am successful because there are people in my life that love me without my skates and that is something you have never understood.”

Simpering disdain tilted his mother’s mouth, like it had when he said he wanted to be a firefighter at age five. “Nobody will remember you for anything but your name.”

A grin tugged at the corners of Sirius’ mouth until he stopped trying to hold it down, letting the sheer hilarity of that statement slip free for just a moment to watch the triumph on their stern faces wane. “And when people hear that name, they’re going to think of your queer, married son and his queer, college-educated brother and they won’t remember a damn thing about either of you. Now get out of my rink.”

“Don’t speak of debasing yourself—”

“I debase myself damn near every night—”

“You spit in the face of everything we—”

“You didn’t do—”

“Regulus was the only loyal—”

“Regulus is happier without your claws in him—”

“Do not interrupt me again!” his mother shrieked, grabbing him by the arms and yanking him close.

Three different hands grabbed his jersey to pull him back, but her nails couldn’t bite through the sleeves. Sirius smiled. “You are nothing without Regulus and I, and that’s your own fault.” He glanced toward the security guards, each of whom had one of her elbows. “Could you get them out of here, please? There’s a game tonight and I don’t think they have tickets.”

And Sirius watched as his parents were led out of Gryffindor Arena boiling with rage and utterly helpless, left with nothing but bluster to their name. A familiar weight fit against his side like a puzzle piece and he lifted his arm to rest over strong shoulders. “Proud of you,” Remus said with a light kiss to his wrist.

James cuddled under his other arm and Sirius held him tight as a sigh fogged up the bottom half of his glasses. “Can we still drag their names through the mud?”

“I could go for some mud-dragging,” Leo agreed.

Talker snorted. “Throw a little slander in there and it’s a party.”

Kuny’s hand was heavy as he ruffled Sirius’ hair with a light sniffle. “Strong man, captain,” he said, uncharacteristically quiet. “Good man.”

They headed back to the locker room together, all wobbling the second their skates came off the ice, yet unable to fall as their looped arms kept them steady. Sirius felt his bones beginning to shake from the dimming adrenaline. Regulus looked up from where Kasey was braiding his hair and smiled like the sun itself when he saw Sirius’ face.

Collapsing into Dumo’s hug felt like coming home.

[soulmate-game]

Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

[sugawaraxo]

safe place

warnings: reader comes from an abusive household. will include both physical and verbal abuse.

characters: tadashi yamaguchi, satori tendou, tobio kageyama, tetsuro kuroo

request: hii!! can i request scenarios with yamaguchi, tendou, kageyama, kuroo (and maybe akaashi 🥺👉👈) with a crush on a girl who comes from an abusive household and how they would confess/help her? thank you sm🥺💗

an: i’ve been writing so much smut lately that writing fluff felt weird bahaha, but i hope you enjoy it! :)

yamaguchi

- there has been a dramatic shift in your personality since tadashi first met you

- and he notices it instantly

- though you pretend to be, you’re no longer the cheerful and bubbly y/n you once were

- and yamaguchi hates seeing you this way 

- so he debates whether he should bring it up for a long while, not knowing exactly what to say

- but when you show up to his house one day, shaking harshly with tears pooling down your face

- he knows something’s terribly wrong

“hi y/n.” tadashi says with a big grin as finally he opens his front door after hearing his doorbell ring a couple times. that smile quickly drops and forms into an expression rich with concern. his eyebrows furrow and his eyes widen as he takes in your appearance. you’re shaking violently and breathing heavily. your eyes are bloodshot from all of the tears that are quickly rushing down your face, dripping silently onto the concrete of yamaguchi’s front step as you avoid eye contact with him. you’re not quite sure why, but you’re embarrassed about crying in front of him. so your eyes stay locked on the bland grey of the concrete ground beneath you as you wait for tadashi to say something. 

“c-come in. it’s super cold, you can tell me what’s wrong inside.” he says sweetly, reaching out a hand for you to grab. he leads you into the kitchen, watching as you take a seat on the counter. then he grabs a kettle from the stove, pouring you a cup of tea with the water he was boiling before you had shown up on his doorstep. you two remain silent as he does so, neither of you being quite sure of what to say in this moment. so you let the stale silence consume you, only the delicate sounds of yamaguchi pouring the cups of tea filling your ears. once he’s done preparing your tea the way he knows you like it, he walks over to your spot on the counter and hands you the mug.

“careful, it’s really hot.” he informs and you smile softly at his concern. you take a small sip of the tea after blowing it to cool it a bit, sighing at how warm it makes you feel. tadashi always makes it so perfectly for you and you can’t help but feel extremely safe in this moment as he stands next to you silently, though his eyes are asking for an explanation. 

“my mom yelled at me again, but it was worse this time.” you sigh, tears starting to sting your eyes again at the recollection of your previous screaming match with your mother. 

“about what this time?” yamaguchi asks, locking his eyes with yours. his demeanor is soft but his gaze is harsh and you can tell he’s upset that this is happening again. 

“all i did is forget to wash the dishes and it led to her screaming at me that i’m a lazy, good for nothing piece of shit who leeches off of her for food and shelter. basically the usual spiel of how i’m useless and just take up space. how she wishes she never had me because then she’d have one less problem to worry about.” you explain, attempting to choke back the sob forming in your throat. you don’t notice since your eyes are focused on the mug in your hands, but yamaguchi’s own orbs are brimmed with tears. he sets his mug down on the counter beside you and moves between your legs so that he could be as close to you as possible.

“hey, look at me.” he says, but you refuse. you hate having him see you like this. it’s only happened once before and you swore it wouldn’t happen again but here you are, sitting on his kitchen counter while forcing yourself not to break down in front of him. after you disregard his request, he takes matters into his own hands. 

he cups the sides of your face timidly with both of his hands, them still being warm from holding his mug. he lifts your head so that your eyes meet his and you feel your heart flutter a bit. you notice the tears that have yet to leave his eyes, resting there but threatening to spill over at any second. instinctively, you reach up to wipe the tears away as you see them finally fall and he smiles a weak smile at you.

“you’re not useless y/n.” he starts “you are so, so special whether your mom sees that or not. i truly hate that she doesn’t. because if she could even just see a fraction of the most mesmerizing sides of you that i get to see everyday, maybe she would change. or maybe she wouldn’t. despite what she thinks, i know how genuine and kind you are. i know how beautiful and selfless you are. you’re far from good for nothing, i hope you know that. and if you don’t, i’m more than willing to help you realize just how incredible you really are, because i love you. i love you a lot y/n, and i hate seeing you so upset. so i’ll do whatever i can to make it better. i promise.” yamaguchi confesses. tears are streaming down both of your faces at this point. this is everything you need to hear right now and then some, and you feel completely at ease with yamaguchi’s words.

“i love you too tadashi, thank you so much. god, i love you.” you coo before lightly grasping the back of his head and pulling him down for a kiss. your action catches him off guard at first, so he’s a bit timid in terms of kissing you back, but after a few seconds he catches the rhythm and kisses you softly.

“you can stay here if you want, for as long as you need.” he offers, giving you a shy smile.

“i’d love that.” you smile back. 

tendou

- you and tendou have a very playful friendship

- always play fighting or teasing each other and whatnot

- the typical ‘we like each other and everyone around us knows we like each other but we’re completely oblivious so we don’t know we like each other’ type friendship 

- one day the two of you are at tendou’s house at the kitchen table “studying” (which really means “fighting”) as per usual

- tendou playfully hits you very lightly, not even a toddler would have been fazed by the slight shove

- but you wince roughly at the touch

- and tendou gets suspicious

“i barely even touched you, what’s up?” tendou asks for what seems to you like the billionth time. 

“it’s nothing, i was messing around. just drop it.” you huff, growing annoyed at tendou’s persistence in finding out what the issue is.

“the look on your face was clearly not a joke y/n, tell me why it hurt so bad? what aren’t you telling me?” tendou pushes and you’ve just about reached your limit.

“i said it’s nothing so just please stop fucking asking, ok?” you snap, though in the process you lift your arms to cover your face in aggravation. the motion raises your shirt a bit, allowing tendou to catch a glimpse of the huge dark purple bruise spread across your ribs.

“y/n. what the hell happened? that looks terrible.” tendou whispers, the shock of what he has just seen revoking his ability to speak out loud. you catch his gaze locked on your stomach and quickly remove your hands from your face, not even realizing that the movement had lifted your shirt. your face flushes to a sickly shade, all life leaving your body as you realize you can’t lie your way out of this anymore. you have never in your life had someone look at you with as much concern as tendou is now looking at you with, his eyes scanning your face dumbfoundedly as he anticipates your answer to his question. you sigh heavily, mentally preparing yourself for the draining information you’re about to tell.

“well um. i got into a disagreement with my dad.” is all you can manage to get out. you planned on explaining more, but just bringing it up makes your stomach curdle with fear and you feel as though you’re about to vomit. tendou notices and rests a comforting hand on your thigh, rubbing it in small gentle motions.

“he hit you?” tendou asks softly, trying to better grasp the situation.

“well he was drunk and i had an attitude with him, so he got a little worked up and ended up pushing me over. i fell and hit my side on the kitchen table on my way down. but it was just an accident, it’s ok. i made him upset and he pushed me. i just lost my balance is all. it’s not his fault.” you find yourself trying to defend your father and you don’t even know why. you know him pushing you wasn’t an accident. you falling and hitting the table was, but that doesn’t diminish the fact that your father just grunted at you as he watched you sob on the floor in agonizing pain before going back to his previous spot on the couch and finishing off his glass of whiskey. but you don’t want to tell tendou that. 

“y/n no, that’s not ok.” tendou’s voice breaks and your heart breaks with it. “accident or not, no man should be putting their hands on you like that. better yet, your own father. is this the first time he’s done something like this?” tendou asks, attempting to keep his voice steady but failing.

you shake your head no and tendou sighs, shaking his head in dismay. 

“i need to get you out of that house y/n. i’ll figure something out.”

“no satori, it’s fine. i’m fine. i can hold my own.” you argue.

“i’m not denying that you can, but i’d feel like the most terrible human being on earth if i let you go back there and something else ends up happening to you. so you’re staying here. my parents and i will figure out a way to take care of any legal actions that need to be made, but until then you are staying here and i will not let you argue with that.” tendou states firmly. although his words are firm, you can see in his eyes that he’s hurting for you. you couldn’t argue with him even if you wanted and luckily, you don’t want to. 

“thank you tendou, that means more to me than you’ll ever know.” you say.

“you don’t need to thank me, i care about you too much to see you get hurt. i want you right here with me so i can know you’re ok.” he says, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. you melt at his sweet gesture, and suddenly feel like everything will actually be ok. 

kageyama

- kageyama is very attentive and tends to notice things about you that the typical outside viewer wouldn’t pick up on

- like the way you’ve been spacing out whenever he speaks to you

- or the way you flinch whenever someone slightly raises their voice around you

- the way your eyes look tired and lifeless lately, despite the huge smile you may be carrying on your face

- he has a hunch that he knows what’s going on, so he pulls you aside after his practice that you sat and watched while doing homework to talk 

“hey y/n, can i talk to you for a second?” kageyama asks as he walks to your spot in the stands. you frown up at him, not really sure what he would want to talk about, but you shrug with a quick ‘sure’ and let him lead you behind the gym. you frown again because this is where he takes you whenever he has something serious to tell you, or when either of you are having a really bad day and need to express your emotions in private.

“what’s up?” you ask curiously, searching his eyes for any sort of hint of what he’s about to say.

“that’s sort of what i want to ask you. what’s up with you lately? i mean, you’ve been pretty good at hiding it, but i can tell something’s going on with you and it’s not good. i just wanna make sure you’re ok.” he says softly. you contemplate telling him what’s been going on at home, his gentle expression seems so caring and genuine. it’s difficult for you not to just open up to him and let him in. but you’re scared of what he might think or how he may react, so you bow your head down to avoid eye contact and mutter,

“it’s nothing really. school has just been a bit stressful is all.”

“you’re lying.”

“what?” you ask, lifting your head to meet his gaze once more. to you, your performance was believable. but kageyama’s been your best friend for the past two years now so he’s become somewhat of a master in knowing whether you’re being honest with him or not.

“you’re lying. what’s really going on?” he asks. he’s looking down at you with his deep blue eyes drowning in concern. you can tell he won’t let you leave without hearing the genuine truth, so you decide it’s for the best not to lie anymore.

“my mom hit me the other day and we haven’t really talked since.” you explain sadly, tilting your head down again. kageyama sighs at your confession because his hunch is correct, and he hates that it is. “we were arguing as usual, but this time she umm, she got a bit too carried away.” you continue. kageyama physically feels his heart break for you. he’s always known how terrible your relationship with your mother was from his first few weeks of knowing you. you would constantly tell him all the awful words she spewed at you in the heat of your arguments, and he was always there to comfort and reassure you afterwards. but it was always verbal, never physical so he wasn’t quite sure if him stepping in to try and help would do any good or just make matters worse. but hearing that it’s now escalated to physical harm makes his stomach ache.

“i’m so sorry y/n, i should’ve helped when i first heard about how she was speaking to you. that should’ve been my first sign that something like this would happen. i feel terrible for not doing anything.” he let’s out, his head now bowing along with yours.

“hey.” you say in an almost whisper, lifting his head up by placing your finger underneath his chin. his tear glistened eyes meet yours and you can feel the guilt radiating from his body which makes your heart shatter. “none of this is any of your fault. you did help me, ok? you’re the only person i’ve ever even told any of this to and you have always been there to comfort me when i do. you’ll never realize how much that means to me tobio. i appreciate you so much.” you explain.

his eyes jump back and forth between yours as he absorbs everything you just said. then his eyes glance down to your lips and linger there for a moment. yours do the same to his, both of you mentally questioning whether or not you should just go for it. eventually the pressure of the moment pushes you two together and your lips graze tenderly. kageyama’s hands find their place on your hips as your arms wrap behind his neck instinctively. the kiss is sweet and filled with so many emotions. most importantly, it’s filled with love. a kiss that you both have been craving for so long yet never had the guts to pursue. and finally, you’re able to give in. after a few moments you pull away, flushed and flustered a bit yet completely content.

“you can stay at my place tonight. we can figure out how everything will play out once we get there.” kageyama says as more of a question than a statement. you just smile and kiss him again in response.

you’re slightly worried about what the future holds, but having kageyama by your side will forever ease your nerves.

kuroo

- though kuroo can be a bit of a tease sometimes, he’s also immensely caring for those that he loves

- you being one of the people that he loves beyond words

- though he hasn’t confessed it yet

- means he’s very protective of you and would do anything to keep you from getting hurt 

- he’s always been your rock, and you his 

- so when he finds out that your parents have been emotionally damaging you

- he gets fairly upset

“jesus, i look so disgusting.” you say in what you think is a joking manner while looking at yourself in kuroo’s closet mirror. but the way kuroo’s head snaps up from his phone to give you a glare, you can tell he didn’t take it as a joke. 

“why are you always talking about yourself like that?” he frowns.

“like what?” you respond dumbly, knowing exactly what he means but really not wanting to embark on your trauma right now.

“you’re always referring to yourself as if you’re the grossest thing in existence and it hurts me to hear you say those things. is there a reason why you feel like that?” he asks, sitting up straighter on the bed to get a better view of you in the mirror. you sigh and turn to face him, walking over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it. 

“yeah, i guess there is a reason.” you admit, looking down at your hands as you fidget with them.

“well, what’s the reason?” kuroo asks. you look up at him nervously. you told yourself that this is something you would always keep to yourself because you don’t want to bombard others with your issues. but there’s something about kuroo that makes it immensely difficult not to just tell him everything. maybe it’s the way he fully listens to you whenever you have something to say. it’s like nothing and no one else around him matters but you and whatever you have to tell him. he always makes you feel heard and validated. important. something you never get at home. 

“it’s just my parents i guess. no matter what i do, i’m never good enough for them. i’m always trying so hard to impress them, make them happy. but all i get in return is being yelled at and told how much of a disappointment i am. do you know how hard that is? being the best version of yourself that you can possibly be and still not being enough for the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally? it hurts so bad kuroo, and it makes me feel like i’m nothing. so that’s why i’m always talking about myself like that. because it’s how i see myself, as nothing.” you tear up. hot tears begin rolling down your face uncontrollably as soft sobs leave your body. kuroo completely softens at your words, moving closer to you so he can wipe your tears with the pad of his thumb. he pulls you closer to him, your head tucked into his chest while his large arms suffocate you in his warm embrace. 

“i’m so sorry y/n. words can be so damaging, especially coming from your own parents and i really wish you didn’t have to go through that. because now you don’t even see yourself the way you should see yourself. the way i see you.” kuroo says, trailing off a bit on the last line. “i think you are the most captivating person i have ever met and probably ever will meet. every time i’m around you i just can’t help but feel this sharp pang in my heart which i can only assume is love. because i feel it when you’re gone too. you’re unbelievably amazing y/n, and insanely beautiful too. please don’t let your parents destroy that for you, although i don’t think they ever could.” kuroo finishes. 

you lift your head from his chest and look into kuroo’s kind hazel eyes as he looks back at you, flashing a small smile. 

“that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me tetsu.” you smile “and i love you too.” you finish causing kuroo to immediately go red. he was somewhat hoping you would have forgotten or missed his accidental love bomb, but how could you? you’ve been waiting to say the words yourself for who knows how long, so your heart almost couldn’t take it when it slipped from kuroo’s lips. 

“thank god.” kuroo laughs lightly, “now what are we gonna do about your parents?” 

“completely forget about them?” you joke, though in the back of your mind you’re somewhat serious. 

“i was thinking confront them and put them in their place, but that works too.” kuroo chuckles before lightly grasping your chin and kissing you. you’ve never felt happier nor safer than you do in this exact moment. 

[the-blue-fairie]

Elsa’s scars are because of a complex interplay between the pain of the accident AND the pain of her upbringing thereafter.

I talk about the ways  in which the trolls’, Agnarr’s, and Iduna’s choices negatively impact Elsa and Anna a great deal. It’s a complex subject to discuss - and I feel like I’m always returning to it because the fandom often tries to reduce it to black and white.

On the one hand, there are people in the fandom who vehemently dislike Agnarr and Iduna and portray them very negatively.

On the other hand, there are people who love Agnarr and Iduna and try to defend their every action, even when their actions hurt their daughters.

And... the trolls don’t usually get brought up at all. I mean, there are definitely folks who point out that the trolls are to blame for stoking the whole royal family’s fears... but I don’t think people can see their pain as easily in the abstract magical characters’ actions, so they just don’t dwell on them as much.

In my opinion, both extremes are approaching the matter in the wrong way. I don’t agree with people who hate Agnarr and Iduna. I don’t agree with people who paint them simply as abusive parents. In both the first film and the second, Agnarr and Iduna are good people trying to do their best in a painful situation. BUT, at the same time, their parents’ actions and the trolls’ actions hurt both of the sisters - and I feel like, when people bend over backwards to defend their actions, people ignore the hurt they caused.

AND, in some ways, I feel like the second film encourages this black and white thinking. The second film WANTS viewers to ignore the negative ramifications of the trolls’ and the parents’ actions. That’s why the film proper never discusses Agnarr’s and Iduna’s or the trolls’ actions while the sisters were children - opting instead for the tie-in book Dangerous Secrets to discuss those events... a tie-in book that, however well-written, will only reach a select audience while the films will reach a far wider audience.

This bothers me because it usually means I see people ignoring many of the external forces that caused Elsa to grow into who she is as a character.

In some cases, these are people who simply treat Elsa like a bad person because they ignore all the context that informs why she behaves like she does.

BUT, at the same time, I have friends who are deeply sympathetic to Elsa... but can’t seem to process how deeply Elsa’s upbringing informed who she grew up to be. 

Like, I’ve had long discussions with friends who have told me that, if Elsa was raised differently, she would still grow up the same because her trauma comes from the accident.

I feel this represents a gross misunderstanding of how child development works.

Yes, Elsa was devastated by the accident. But consider her actions and body language immediately thereafter:

Her first instinct is to run to Anna and hold her in her arms. Even after her parents coming rushing in and her father asks what she has done, she defends herself, saying, “It was an accident. I’m sorry, Anna.” She still holds Anna close:

Elsa has to be taught to recoil, to shrink away, to keep her distance from Anna.

Elsa’s fear is learned. We only see her truly starting the pattern of shrinking away, of curling inside herself with fear of herself after Pabbie shows her an ominous vision, telling her there is “danger” in her powers.

A fear of herself that continues thereafter, after she has processed that she is and so begins to see herself as a danger:

Yes, the accident itself scarred Elsa. But to say that, “If Elsa was raised differently, things would have turned out the same because her trauma emerges from the accident” is simply wrong. 

Elsa was a child being influenced by adult authority figures who ultimately failed her.

Pabbie igniting a vague and fiery vision of danger before an impressionable child influenced her, helped to cement the idea in Elsa that she is naturally dangerous.

Agnarr and Iduna separating the sisters reinforces to Elsa that there is something wrong in her - something she has to repress.

Keep in mind, I’m NOT saying this to demonize Agnarr and Iduna. As this moment shows, they are heartbroken the more Elsa shrinks from them. They love their daughter, and hate to see her hurting like this: 

BUT that doesn’t change the fact that their actions helped to hurt her. Inadvertently, I know. But they still did.

To ignore the influence of the adult authority figures on who Elsa became is to ignore the complexity of how children interact with the world, how they respond to elders who are in positions of power. Elsa trusts the signals given by the adults around her. When Pabbie tells her there is “great danger” in her powers, she believes him. When her parents tell her that it is a necessity that she isolate herself and conceal herself, she trusts them.

Sometimes, certain people make much of the nuances of Pabbie’s words  or Agnarr’s words. They point out that Pabbie also says there is beauty in Elsa’s powers and that “Fear will be your enemy” also refers to Elsa’s inner fear of herself. They comment that “Conceal it, don’t feel it” is not the same as “Conceal, don’t feel.”

The thing is, these readings put the blame on Elsa for misunderstanding - instead of putting the blame on the adults for inadvertently imparting hurtful messages to a child.

It shouldn’t be placed on the shoulders of a child to decipher a cryptically worded aphorism. It should be on the adult figure, especially when this adult figure is an ancient and wise being.

And really, for all the distinctions between “Conceal it, don’t feel it” and “Conceal, don’t feel,” their essence is still the same. The misguidedness of concealment, of not feeling something that is a part of you, is still rooted in the words regardless of which version we choose.

 Elsa, as a child, was still told by the adults around her that she should keep her distance from others for their protection and so, as she grew older, she took that more and more to heart. She grew into what she had been taught - even though the teaching initially came from a good-hearted place.

Sometimes, I’ve had my friends ask me, “But by putting all this focus on Elsa’s influences growing up, are you sure you’re not losing focus on the pain Elsa feels because of the accident itself?” And... no, I’m not. That’s why the title of my post is, “Elsa’s scars are because of a complex interplay between the pain of the accident AND the pain of her upbringing thereafter.” Because I WANT this post to be a nuanced reflection.

But... if Pabbie hadn’t shown a vague and terrifying vision to and impressionable child and her frightened family... you can’t tell me things would have been the same.

If Iduna and Agnarr hadn’t limited Elsa’s contact with people, you can’t tell me things would have been the same.

A friend once pointed to the trail of ice Elsa makes on the journey to the Valley of the Living Rock, arguing that this shows Elsa’s loss of control and panic before Pabbie stresses that she is dangerous - and therefore arguing that this highlights that things would still turn out the same for Elsa growing up even if the trolls and her parents made different choices because she fears what she can do:

I feel my friend’s reading here is... a bit of a stretch. Elsa is scared, yes, but the self-hatred that defines her as an adult? That comes later. That, she has to learn. And it is that self-hatred and fear of herself that paralyzes her.

And I’ve had friends point out, “But Elsa WAS dangerous! She DID hurt Anna, and that’s tied into her stress with wanting to protect her, and that was before the trolls or her parents had any involvement...”

I don’t like this take because it seems to put an impossible amount of weight on Elsa as a child. It asks Elsa as a child to be perfectly composed. To not be scared for her sister’s safety. To... not feel.

It’s a take that follows the misguided logic the film ultimately refutes while defending the mistakes that caused that misguided logic to do so much harm.

And, yeah. Sure. Elsa becomes scared. In the ballroom and riding through the forest. She’s a tiny child.

That doesn’t justify teaching her to fear herself, actions that only make the problem far, far worse.

 And you can say, “Well, the adults didn’t MEAN to teach Elsa that-” I know they didn’t mean to do it.

But showing a terrifying light-show to a little girl will impact her, regardless of what Pabbie meant. Especially when he does not clarify.

But slamming the gates shut will have a powerful psychological effect on both Elsa and Anna, regardless of what their parents meant.

Elsa was a child.

Children learn from their surroundings. They respond to the actions of adults they trust, adults they love. While the accident itself impacted Elsa, we cannot ignore that the way she was brought up thereafter also had a profound effect on the way she saw the world, the way she responded to the world. 

Elsa was a child being influenced by adult authority figures who ultimately failed her - and the fact people are so willing to put the weight of that on a child instead of the adults surrounding her is troubling to me.

The fact that the second film kind of tacitly puts the weight of that on Elsa’s shoulders by only making abstract references to “fear” - instead of openly talking about the complex circumstances Elsa and her parents found themselves in - is troubling to me as well. It allows viewers to disregard the more complicated elements of Elsa’s relationship with her parents and only focus on the positives the second film puts on display.

(Keep in mind, I DON’T intend this post to be anti Agnarr and Iduna. I love them as characters - ESPECIALLY Iduna, with the backstory F2 offers. Agnarr and Iduna are good people. They are loving parents. They were put in a horribly complicated position... and ultimately their actions - for all their good intentions - had negative consequences.) 

[toacollabevent]

FAQ

What counts as TOA-centric content?

Anything that directly references an event or events that occurs within the five Trials of Apollo books

Anything set post-TOA that was influenced by the events of the five Trials of Apollo books

Anything based on the characters of Trials of Apollo that has clear relevance to the series

Crossovers or AUs that are based on the events or main characters of Trials of Apollo

What does not count as TOA-centric content?

Anything that is clearly based on Percy Jackson and the Olympians or The Heroes of Olympus

Pre-The Hidden Oracle Solangelo

What counts as character bashing?

Deliberately treating a character badly with no respect for their canon characterisation.

“Apollo is homophobic and will do anything to break Solangelo up” = directly contradicts canon, character bashing

“Zeus is a terrible, abusive parent” = canon, not character bashing

What do I do if I have content I want to enter with but I don’t know if it complies with the rules?

Send a link my way and I’ll check it out and let you know!

What if I don’t have any TOA-centric content but I want to create something through this event?

Send a PM and I’ll sort something out for you - you may be brought in as a back-up in case someone has to pull out of creating, or someone else might get lucky and get extra content for their creation!

What if I sign up but something happens and I can’t finish my part of the event?

Let me know as soon as you can!  I will not be mad, I promise - life happens and none of us can control it.  I’ll sort things out so that the person you’re creating for still receives something!

What’s the limit on how many things I can create?

A minimum of one thing, but there is no maximum!  You can create several things based on one piece of content, one per content, or a mix of both - it entirely depends on what and how much inspiration you get (and how much time you have!)  Please don’t burn yourself out during this event!

Is there a word limit on what I create during this event?

Nope!  If you want to write a 100k word longfic based on someone else’s creation, go for it!  Just make sure it’s something you can complete within the time frame.

What if there’s another piece of content I know my match has done that I really want to create for, but it isn’t one they’ve provided?

Send me a message with a link to the content!  If it’s a valid piece within the rules of the event, I will contact the creator on your behalf to ask if they are okay with that piece being used (in this case, the word limit for written works is waived, as that only exists to ensure people are not forced to read several longfics in the first place).

When can I post what I’ve made?

Send it into this blog as a SUBMISSION once you’re happy with it - make sure to include which piece of content it’s based on.  However, please refrain from posting it anywhere else (social media, AO3 etc.) until after it’s been posted on this blog!

Any other questions?  Send an ask!

[theyscreamjade]

Can you do Kiri, Iida, Izuku, and Bakugo with a s/o who goes deaf from a concussion received during a fight or even training. (I lost my hearing and I haven't seen much done for deaf readers. Thank you so much if you do respond hun.)

Severe Silence

Words can’t describe how I feel for you honey, Trust me, you’re not alone. I’ve always had hearing issues since I was born and they’re stating I may or may not lose my hearing in the future which hurts because music is my life and I can’t see myself without it. I hope this makes your day and if you need to talk, I’m always here.

Disclaimer: Slight Gore, Abuse and Acts Of Violence

————————————————————————————————————————

Eijiro Kirishima

* He remembers the whole accident that day because he was the one who carried you to the infirmary.

* It was training to see how you’d withstand during a earthquake and you were one of the following that was instructed to stand in a building.

* Aizawa wasn’t too keen on it but you insisted that you wanted a challenge.

* When the ground started to shake, wood, chunks of cement started tumbling down. You had your practice dummy to your back, running towards the safe exit with Ochacko and Shoji following close behind.

* Apart from the training, a ding would be heard when there’s another victim close by, you guys had the majority of them. Even though the earthquake ended, parts were still falling.

* You handed your dummy off and went off to find another one, and never returned.

* You were eventually sent to the hospital even though Recovery Girl healed you.

* You weren’t heard of for a while which worried your Sharky lover.

* During a free period, Baku-Squad including Deku, Momo, and Ochacko comes over to visit you.

* You were home alone and when you opened the door to see your friends, you couldn’t help but burst into tears because you couldn’t hear their excited voices to see that you’re fine.

* I do see Kirishima as the type to pull out his phone and ask you if you were okay through the notes app.

* You tell them back when you were grabbing the last dummy, you tripped and slammed your head into a large block of cement.

* Being the amazing boyfriend he is, he’s going to learn every possible way to speak to you.

* To sign language to even speaking as slow as he possibly can.

* He’s willing to do everything to make everything easier for you and to keep that gorgeous smile on your face.

* He knows how hard it is to lose something that you’re so used to having and it pains him to see you a tad bit depressed because you can’t hear him anymore.

* Just know he’s going to do anything that would seem impossible to help you through every step.

* This includes training, If you always relied on your ears he’ll help you try to find another way to smell a villain near you.

* He’s going to encourage you to keep going towards your dream and never give up.

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

Izuku Midoriya

* His feet never ran so fast when you were found unconscious.

* During your first internship, You and Izuku were attempting to save Eri that day. Everyone was soon separated.

* When it seemed that it wasn’t going to be well, you sent him to go get Eri while you fought the villains with others.

* The mission was a success but came with painful consequences, You fought with a villain who was a tad bit advanced for you. You fought with all your might while the building warped and swirled.

* The last thing you could remember was the villain's backup appearing behind you and attacking you as everything became black.

* Luckily, One of the pro-heroes rushed over and defended you while their sidekicks quickly took you towards the medic.

* When Deku first found out, not even caring if he was injured or not. He wanted to see you. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

* It took him a while to see you and when he did, he was ecstatic to see you awake and responsive.

* He called your name but..you never responded, which confused him. He had to touch your shoulder, nearly giving you a heart attack as he asked what’s wrong and you just stared.

* Then, he knew..something was wrong.

* Upon finding this out, Izuku being the great and amazing guy he is will also take many precautions to learn to speak to you.

* His sign language is a tad bit rusty and sucks a bit, but give him a chance. He’s trying.

* In each conversation you two have, he’ll always make sure he’s speaking slow and you’re able to see his lips move.

* If he can’t speak or wearing a mask, he’ll either text you or type his words through his phone for you.

* He’s going to tell you that you should keep going on your fight to be a hero.

* Izuku will train with you and see if you two could discover a different method that you could use during battles.

* He will never give up on you and will always help you with your dreams.

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

Katsuki Bakugo

* Everything happened so fast that even HE couldn’t keep up.

* One minute, You were kicking ass, destroying every villain in your way.

* Even though the attack was extremely random and with the permission from the teachers to fight these villains who interfere with your training for the fifth time in a span of a few years.

* Hell, you had your hero’s license so you had the right to kick their asses.

* You stood up, cracking your neck and fists before punching another villain back to the ground.

* Katsuki saw the purple blur flash past him as a large Nomu appeared to your turned back.

* Before he could even react, his body ran you over. His corrupted face looked down at what he did as Bakugo’s anger boiled over the surface. He grabbed the villain he was originally fighting and launched him into the Nomo before blasting them with his explosion as hard as he possibly could.

* No one hurts you. No one.

* It took Kirishima, Denki, Izuku, and lastly, a time-limited All Might to get him off the Nomo who he SURPRISINGLY knocked out.

* Once he could relax, he walks to your dorm. When he knocks and you don’t answer, it makes him worried.

* He won’t kick the door down..but..knock it off the hinges and discovers you crying on the bed.

* All the banging, knocking he did and you didn’t react while he was standing in front of him, his heart instantly knew that damn Nomu did something to you.

* He already knew sign language, there’s no lie in that.

* He knows it because his quirk has nearly made him deaf at times and it was told that he’d lose it before he would have a chance to be a hero.

* After the attack, he’s always by your side. He corrects people who try to talk to you and demands that they use sign language or their phones. He hates when others talk fast to you as well.

* He’s like this because he wants to help you in every way he can.

* If you decide to be a hero, despite his warnings. He’s going to help you as much as he can. He’ll ask for help from hero’s who has the same disability as yours if not, he’s going to make a method of teaching you with your other senses.

* He may teach you how to use your sight more, smell, or touch to their full potential.

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

Iida Tenya

* It honestly hurts him every time he thinks about it, It shouldn’t have been that.

* He was supposed to protect you but he was separated from everyone else. You were with one of the members of Wild Wild Pussycats when Dabi attacked with his crew.

* You and Ragdoll were walking back after discussing your training in the morning when everything became extremely terrifying for you two.

* You and Ragdoll fought your best, almost moving in sync with each other Magne knew how to just send you flying into a tree each time.

* He created a negative force between you and Ragdoll when sent you two flying apart at a harsh force as you went flying into the woods and collided with a huge bolder.

* Blood dripped from your head as Ragdoll’s scream came to your ears while you reached out to help. Your knees touched the marshy land while your hand shook, pain rushing through your body.

* When the message came through, you passed out.

* Tetsutetsu and Itsuka discovered you and carried your body to safety away from all the chaos.

* When it was discovered that you were among the ones injured along with two missing individuals, It sent chills down his spine.

* Since you two just started dating and he was sure you and your parents wanted to spend time with each other, he wouldn’t come to see you in the hospital.

* It takes him over two weeks and when Aizawa needed someone to take his homework to your home. He immediately offered himself because he’s been dying to see you again.

* A jump, kick, and step later, he appeared at your door. You were checking the mail as he called out to you from a few feet away.

* You didn’t notice him and walked towards your home, not noticing his presence yet.

* He was taken back by your casualness while you walked to the door until he saw the hearing aid in your ear.

* That’s when he knows now why you didn’t react and just watches you walk away.

* One thing I do admire about this man, he’ll do anything when it comes to you. While he’s taking his brother to the physical therapy sessions for him.

* He’s learning every single possible way to talk to you. I mean every way.

* As strange as this may sound, he loves signing into your hand even though you’re not blind.

* It’s close contact and he adores that with you. For example, private things or him simply saying he loves you, he’ll sign it into your hand while everything else is out to the open.

* He often recommends to others and his friends that they speak slower with you so you can comprehend or try not to speak all at once.

* If you wish to continue your path to being a hero, he’s going to support you but he can’t help but constantly worry.

* The last time he let you go, you became deaf and he doesn’t want anything else to ever happen to you again. He wants to be your knight in white amour but he knows how you like to be independent too.

* Just don’t give this man a heart attack, please.

[onebillionstarsff]

if you think c!dream deserves torture, you don’t know what torture is

alrighty, it’s time for me to do annoyingly in-depth lore analysis again because i have seen way too many people on my dash and twitter timeline saying that c!dream deserves to be tortured.

i don’t really think people have a comprehensive, reality-based understanding of what torture actually is, what it can do, and the motivations behind it. i, unfortunately, do: i’ve done extensive professional-level study on torture, so i’m going to do my best to put out some knowledge into our little dsmp-related world.

obvious content warnings for references to torture and to violence below the cut (nothing too graphic, though; i know this isn’t an academic forum or government work)

all of this is /rp /dsmp

i’ll also list some sources at the very bottom if you want to learn more

alright then, let’s start: what is torture, anyway?

there are two types of definitions, general and legal. i’ll reference both, but the message they carry is essentially the same, so i’ll just paraphrase the united nations definition that’s party to (read: supported/enforced by) 170 countries:

torture is any act that intentionally causes SEVERE harm to someone, physical OR mental, for the purposes of extracting information or punishment for failure to do so, with explicit consent from an acting public authority.

i’ll break down those components in the context of the dsmp in a second, but i first want to make it very clear what torture ISN’T. torture is not manipulation, it is not "trauma” in the way trauma is broadly conceived, it is not even direct physical abuse. you can suffer abuse from, say, a parent or a partner, and that abuse is about a power dynamic, where one person is being forcibly subordinated to the other. torture, on the other hand, is not necessarily about power, and it’s definitely not ONLY about power dynamics; torture, by its very definition, has to be intensely and officially coercive, and it has to be SEVERE. there are not degrees of torture, like there are degrees of abuse: being deprived of sleep for days or even weeks at a time is just as psychologically impactful as losing a limb or being waterboarded (simulated drowning- a common torture method that the us has been known to employ).

this is my first major issue with the way some viewers of the dsmp approach this whole debacle. i constantly hear c!tommy’s manipulation by c!dream cited as a perfect justification for c!dream’s torture. what c!tommy, and others on the server- particularly the kids- went through is horrible, and intensely traumatic. i will never deny them that, especially as a survivor of abuse myself, but torture is not just another form of trauma. that’s a very important distinction that we, as viewers, have to draw: torture is considerably worse because it is sanctioned, it is coercive, and its explicit goal is not just to cause pain or make someone feel powerless (common goals of abusers), but instead to shatter someone.

in more specific terms, the mental goal of torture is to completely unmake someone’s conception of the world, how they interact with it, and their basic sense of identity. if you read accounts or speak with survivors of torture, it is frequently mentioned that their very way of processing everything in life was destroyed by pain and had to be rebuilt, completely different, after escape. by destroying one’s individuality, will, and their most integral of processing abilities, you destroy their grasp on the world; and, to put it lightly, such a breaking event is awful enough that, in an effort to make it stop and regain some sense of normalcy, the victim will tell their persecutors what they want to hear. it’s the reason why confessions obtained through torture are notoriously not admissible in courts of law. this goes far beyond abuse or manipulation, and i need everyone to understand that.

now, let’s get to c!dream’s situation. did he do awful things? yes, undoubtedly. i’m a c!dream apologist, but his manipulation of c!tommy and c!tubbo was very fucked up. beyond that, his notable “crimes” that others on the server aren’t also guilty of committing (e.g., murder, theft, arson, to name a few common ones) really just consist of especially massive destruction of property (people leave c!techno and c!phil out of this equation, much to my chagrin, but i won’t get into it here). punishment for his actions is understandable, and is typically what justice systems aim to do. but, even if we completely ignore the inherent inhumanity of pandora (HOOO BOY that’s a lot to ignore but i digress), c!dream is not being punished, he’s being tortured. 

going by the definition i used, let’s break it down:

c!sam knows what c!quackity is doing to c!dream, allows it, and even encourages it. as the warden, he is the person in an official, authority position giving their consent. 

c!quackity is, by his own admission, doing what he is to get information out of c!dream. it’s not a confession in this context, but very specific piece of knowledge, with the promise of death also hanging right above it.

list of extreme psychological abuse: long-term solitary confinement (torture if it’s more than 22 hours. c!dream has been in solitary confinement for more than 60 days now), deprivation of the passage of time, general verbal abuse, incredibly limited social contact (people start to fray without basic interaction after a while).

list of extreme physical abuse (god where do i start): prolonged starvation, malnourishment when he isn’t being starved (you will die without protein intake); use of Warden’s Will Breaker pickaxe (it can hack through obsidian, so i think that’s all i need to say), shears (can be used to do things like pull nails, break limb’s bones, amputate toes/fingers/a whole arm in c!ponk’s case), and an OP axe (a sharp blade capable of slicing easily through wood with brute force, and bone is significantly easier to crush than wood). 

so, we have consent of authority, coercion for the sake of extracting information, and severe physical/mental abuse meant solely to cause extreme pain. c!dream is being tortured according to the proper, internationally-sanctioned definition of the term, and that is not okay in any circumstances whatsoever. 

if you haven’t ever read survivors’ accounts (or the accounts of their victimizers), it’s difficult to understand just how uniquely despicable torture is, and the lifelong effects that remain after it’s over and done with. i honestly recommend you read some testimonials, because it absolutely changes the way you view authority and the world in general.

no one is deserving of this treatment, no matter what atrocities they may or may not have committed. 

it’s a basic tenet of human rights, and i don’t think it should be a hard pill to swallow that it’s never excusable in any circumstance. so, defend c!tommy & co. and criticize c!dream’s actions all you want, but please never say that torture is alright. that statement has real consequences, and real moral implications. don’t be an asshole, and don’t be disrespectful to people who have survived it.

if you’re curious, look into these events:

The Argentine Dirty War

Chicago Police’s Jon Burge and his torture regime

Abu Ghraib prison

Extensive torture by Pinochet’s regime in Chile

Guatemalan Civil War

Ugandan policing in the 21st century (Human Rights Watch report here)

if you want some reading, i recommend the following. tumblr will probably nerf this post because of links, but oh well.

Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment

Elaine Scarry’s The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World (very important work in the literature on torture) 

John Conroy’s Unspeakable Acts, Ordinary People: The Dynamics of Torture

Levenson (e.d.) Torture: A Collection