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yourfavoritehouseplant · 10 months

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I watched James Somerton's final video, and all I got was this 6 page document

As soon as I learned his final unreleased video was on Revolutionary Girl Utena, I knew I had to hate watch it. I didn't know that I'd spend the following 4 hours making a comprehensive doc on everything I hated about it. But here we are.

The TLDR (is this too long to be a TLDR?)

The intro section, as well as Part 2, are directly plagiarized from wikipedia. The rest is unclear.

He makes a “haha this show is so weird right guys” joke 10 different times

He reads Anthy as so emotionally stunted she literally has to be taught how to think for herself, and believes that being the rose bride makes her feel good

He says that his reading is ‘vastly different” from the rest of the community, before boldly stating that this is because he sees it as a “deeply allegorical and symbolic story”

He sees the sexual abuse as “not to be taken literally”

Insists that the show be separated into parts that are strictly literal and strictly allegorical for the entirety of parts 3 and 4, before making the contradictory move of analyzing characters as allegories during part 5

The only characters that get dedicated sections are Akio and Dios, who he doesn’t believe are the same person.

He says Dios gets his powers by “deflowering women”

He calls Akio, known child predator, a chaotic bisexual

Uses 14 year old SA survivor Anthy’s passive personality to make a joke about her being a bottom

His final point is that Utena was the real prince all along

There are no citations

Anyway, full version for people who hate themselves under the cut. With time codes, because I cite my sources.

Part 1: Intro

This entire section is almost exclusively quoted from the Wikipedia article for Revolutionary Girl Utena. Words have been changed, but the order at which certain topics come up is not. Highlights include:

0:56 In his introduction of Be-Papas, lists the founding members in literally the exact same order as Wikipedia.

1:40-2:00 His list of Be-Papas previous works is lifted entirely from wikipedia, only with the words changed. This leads to a strange moment at 1:52 where he claims Be-papas ‘lent their talents to’ Neon Genesis Evangelion, a show which started production at least a year before Be-papas was founded. On the wikipedia article for Utena, this is instead referring to the previous work of Shinya Hasegawa and Yōji Enokido

4:23 he uses a quote by Yūichirō Oguro describing the production as a “tug of war”. He seems to have lifted this in its entirety from Wikipedia, as he does not cite the actual source it is from (the box set companion book, btw)

As for James Somerton originals, at 0:44 he claims that out of all magical girl series,”none to my knowledge have been more discussed and dissected than the 1997 series Revolutionary Girl Utena” He will go back on this at 5:05, where he states that “Sailor Moon takes the lion’s share of discussion” in regard to influential magical girl anime

Part 2: Part 1

(At least I know I’m not funny, unlike James Somerton)

Speaking of which. Here is every single time he makes a “wow this show is sooooo weird you guys” joke: 6:00, 8:50, 10:40, 10:58, 13:46, 17:07, 24:16, 30:34, 41:19, 48:01

Here’s every time the punchline to the joke is the existence of Nanami, a character who he otherwise completely disregards: 10:56, 12:05, 16:22, 42:40

6:16 Claims that the “Apocalypse saga” and “Akio Ohtori saga’ are two names for the same several episodes, depending on the release. This is untrue. Instead, different releases either only have the Apocalypse saga, or split the episodes into an Akio Ohtori saga and then the Apocalypse saga.

7:58 Claims Utena intervening on Anthy’s behalf begins the first duel. While this happens in the movie, Touga intervenes in the scene he uses clips from (like literally right after the shot he uses in the video). Utena only gets drawn into the duels when Wakaba’s love note to Saionji is posted. Youtuber Noralities’ Utena video also gets this wrong, which makes me wonder if this was copied.

9:09 Claims Akio’s “End of the World” moniker is actually more closely translated to “Apocalypse”. In reality, the translation moves away from a more apocalyptic reading, with 世界の果て (Sekai no hate) apparently translating closer to “the furthest reach of a known world” or “edge of the world”. (Love the implications of this translation, but I digress)

9:10 As can be assumed from the previous point, this means I can’t find any sources that point to them not using the title “apocalypse” for religious reasons

10:10 Uses Anthy’s extreme passivity under her Rose bride persona to make a top/bottom joke. I’m gonna repeat this in case you’re just skimming. He uses a trait that likely stems from years of abuse, (possibly exaggerated by the persona Anthy uses to manipulate people), and uses it to call her a bottom.

He also just doesn’t seem to understand how the whole point of Utena constantly telling Anthy that she's just a normal girl who should make more friends is framed as Utena imposing her will on Anthy, just as much as the previous Engaged have done.

11:54 Apologies in advance for my most “um, actually!” point yet, but technically his statement that Anthy stops being host to the Sword of Dios is wrong. Akio literally pulls a sword out of her chest in the final duel. It's a more evil-looking sword of Dios, granted.

13:02 !!! CANTARELLA SCENE ALERT !!! He interprets it as them fighting over Akio?? Which like. I will allow people to have their own interpretations of vague and symbolic scenes. I will. I swear. This is not technically incorrect. It just makes me want to eat my own intestines.

14:44 Bad Anthy take #1: He states Anthy “is emotionally stunted to the point where she needs people to make decisions for her because she does not know how to think for herself” This ignores several moments of Anthy clearly making her own choices throughout the show, including the suicide attempt Somerton mentions about a minute prior. This also strips Anthy of what little agency she has throughout the story, usually exerted through messing with Utena or Nanami. (The fact that she repeatedly makes choices that contribute to her own abuse is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting parts of her character, and it's a shame that Summerton’s ‘reading’ of the story completely disregards that)

Additionally, he once again reads Utena ‘urging Anthy to think for herself” in the first arc as an unambiguously good move, and not as something critiqued in the show.

14:52 Summerton reads the Swords of hatred as symbolizing men’s hatred specifically. Again, I’m trying not to completely disregard differing interpretations to a show like Utena, but this feels very simplistic, especially considering the harm we see aimed towards Anthy by other women

16:42 Here he claims that his reading of the story seems to be “vastly different” from the bulk of Utena discourse. What is this reading? That the show shouldn’t be read literally. Or, in his words, “[we can interpret] Revolutionary Girl Utena as a deeply allegorical and symbolic story about the struggles of coming of age amidst widespread institutional corruption in a high school and which describes a passive culture of inaction in regard to brazen instances of domestic exploitation in which there is not only a question about the caporeality of the events transpiring but also which events can be taken for granted and which events are meant to signify abstract sociological institutions.” The idea that he believes this is in any way a new reading of the material honestly baffles me.

Part 3: Part 2

17:48 through 18:50 differently quotes the Wikipedia article for postmodernism. He even makes a joke at 17:55 about Wikipedia. Please kill me.

The first three themes he lists at 19:11 are just the three main themes listed on the Revolutionary Girl Utena Wikipedia page. What was that about a “vastly different” reading, James?

You’re gonna have to take my word for it, but this section is so short because it's just him talking about the various ways the story can’t be taken literally. He does, ironically, call this a hot take.

Part 4: Part 3

Here’s where the reading falls apart folks

At 23:15, he states that some things in Utena are allegorically coded, while others are to be taken literally. This is true. However, he seems to take this to mean that some parts of the show are Strictly Literal, while others are Strictly Allegorical for things going on in the Literal World.

This is apparently why he prefers the Anime to the Movie, where there basically is no separation between the Literal and Allegorical

This take is bizarre to me for several reasons, but here is my favorite. At several points, he mentions how Revolutionary Girl Utena is a work of Magical Realism. Magical Realism is literally defined by its blending of the “literal” and “allegorical”, the mix of fantastical elements in a mundane, realistic setting. This idea of the impossibility of a blurred line, that Utena must either have lore where the magic is all real and means nothing, or dedicated allegory segments quarantined from the rest of the story, is contrary to the very idea of Magical Realism.

I can’t help but wonder if Somerton took his mentions of Magical realism from a previous work, due to how little it is consistent with his final argument. Either way, this section suggests a great lack of creativity in his analysis, a shame for such a creative work.

24:36: Shiori slander, for those who care

After this he gets really worked up about people assuming symbolism in everything, even when the author ‘doesn’t make it clear something is symbolic’. He shuts down a reading of a shot in the Lord of the Rings. Miley Cyrus is there? Very The Curtains Were Blue of him.

28:22 Claims that Wakaba is the key to telling where the Strictly Literal segments end and the Strictly Allegorical segments begin. He states that, under this lens, deeply personal moments of character suffering such as all of the sexual abuse and Anthy’s suicide attempt (which he literally cites) should be read as symbolic and be “approached with uncertainty rather than confusion”. (28:24-29:13)

This also somewhat falls apart when you consider Wakaba is the jeep in the movie's car chase

And then he rants about people not liking his Attack on Titan video for a bit. Since its potential symbolism also doesn't follow hard enough rules to be symbolism. Once again, the separation of “fact vs allegory” I haven’t watched AOT, so that's all I’ll say.

Part 5: Part 4

Thank god this part is short. Much like Dios’ on-screen presence.

32:55 Makes the extremely bold claim that Dios is not Akio. As in, never even became Akio. because Dios is Strictly Allegorical.

Just to be a pedant, this is pretty explicitly disproven in the show

Confusingly, both earlier and later he will address these two as the same character.

33:04 he also explains the root of Akio’s name in a tone that suggests this is supplemental information and not like. Literally something he explains out loud in the show?

Part 6: Part 5

This section is nearly entirely about Akio Ohtori. I would like to note that him and Dios are the only characters with dedicated segments.

38:30 The part where he states that Dios gets his powers from deflowering women.

38:46 Claims, once again, that Akio’s abuse of Anthy “may not be literal”.

38:59 “the instance of exploitation here is used because assault has deep roots as indicating that akio's gender is the source of his imbalance” THE ASSAULT IS ABOUT AKIO NOW???

39:45 Bad Anthy take #2: “Anthy’s conformity to the Rose bride is based around the fact that she feels good being subservient because this is the only thing in her life that has ever brought her any kind of positive reward”. This is a direct quote. Anyway, I can’t think of any instances in the show where Anthy’s subservience gives her a positive reward, except maybe when she’s intentionally using it to manipulate others. As for her feeling good being the rose bride. She tries to commit suicide. Dude.

Side tangent, but isn’t this exactly what Akio says during the final 2 episodes? That Anthy enjoys being a witch? Is the main villain, who consistently says things during that very episode that are blatantly false, our source of information for this take? I guess so, since this is the dedicated Akio section.

At 40:20 he decides to introduce the concept of Anthy, Akio, and Utena as stand-ins for wider concepts, which is antithetical to his approach in analysis beforehand

Part 7: Part 6

42:40 he finally acknowledges that he’s been spending too much time talking about Akio, and literally no time on characters like Nanami

46:10 states that Utena’s exclusive motivation “is to protect Anthy from the predatorial intentions of the other dualists”, which disregards the fact, which she states herself, that she was largely participating in the duels and protecting Anthy to feel like a prince

48:04 The part where he says that Akio has ‘chaotic Bi vibes’ in regards to him sleeping with Touga, who is 17 and implied to be a long-term victim

Part 8: Part 7

54:01: His concluding point is that Utena was the real prince all along.

In true Somerton fashion, the video then ends over a scrolling wall of patrons, with not a single citation in sight.

#the autism won again you guys #revolutionary girl utena #james somerton #shoujo kakumei utena #utena #anthy #hbomberguy

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vaokses · 1 month

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How long this love can hold its breath

Series Masterlist / General Masterlist

Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: It has been years since your mother took you from King's Landing to join her in Dragonstone. Years since you and Aegon have seen one another. Years in which he has refused, time and time again, to marry, even as you tour Westeros meeting suitors in search of a husband of your choosing. That refusal can easily be undone with a few words: it was you she chose, Aegon.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Alicent's abuse of Aegon. Alcohol/drunkenness. Mentions of sex/prostitution. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Arranged marriage stuff. Angst. Hurt and kind of no comfort for now.

Some AU/Setting stuff: Reader is a bastard of Daemyra (claimed by Laenor of course), firstborn child of Rhaenyra and heir to her mother's claim. She rides Vermithor. As you'll figure out thorugh this one shot, she and Aegon had a thing when she was still in King's Landing. How relevant or impactful that 'thing' was depends on who of the two you ask. I've stretched the timeline a bit. Rhaenyra spent a few years more in King's Landing (making Aegon around 16/7 when she leaves, and the Reader, the eldest of the Velaryons, around 14/5). Instead of six years in Dragonstone, the Blacks have spent around three there in this story. Viserys still lives (and is rotting slightly slower), Aegon and Helaena did not marry.

A/N: My first work in this fandom, so i'm a bit nervous. This is a bit of a prologue/alternate PoV for a series I have in the works, but I wanted to share it as a one shot since I think it also works as one. I hope you like this!

Title is from the quote "I've hoarded your name in my mouth for months. My throat is a beehive pitched in the river. Look! Look how long this love can hold its breath." - Sierra DeMulder

It feels as if he has just rested his head on his pillow when he hears the heavy doors being pushed open, and the familiar hurried steps of his mother as she enters his apartments.

He isn’t sure why he bothers by now in telling the guards not to let her in, since she insists on overruling his orders whenever she wishes.

Still half-asleep, Aegon reaches for the bedsheet covering his body, wary of any attempt she might make in her anger to pull it off him. Surprisingly, his mother stops a few steps away from the foot of the bed.

Aegon feels her piercing gaze on him, and aware the choice is between caving and chasing after her, asking her what it is she wants; or waiting for the anger at his unwillingness to follow the unspoken command -and the thrown object, or the stinging hit, that comes after said anger-; he drags his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself further and asks,

“What is it, mother?”

“Where in the Father’s name were you? Three days, Aegon,” He winces at the reprimand. In his defense, he truly didn’t think they’d notice. Helaena would, perhaps, but she wouldn’t seek him out either way. “You were gone for three days.”

“I wasn’t…far. I didn’t even leave King’s Landing.”

She starts letting out a sigh, laced with disappointment and annoyance, but stops herself short, instead turning her back to him and pacing a few steps away.

“I know where it is you go to…to satiate your vices, caring not for the shame it brings to your name and mine, behaving most unlike your station.”

“Then why did you ask?”

His mother won’t turn to look at him, her back turned to him and her hands joined in front of her.

“Your sister was here.”

His brow furrows in confusion.

“My sister is always here.”

“Rhaenyra was here, Aegon.”

“Oh. What for?”

Alicent turns on her side, considers him with eyes widened in afront and mouth curled in disgust. The question leaves her lips slowly, a threat and a dare all at once.

“Are you still drunk?”

He mulls over the question for a few moments, and realizes his thoughts are entirely too calm for him to be already sober. The numb haziness of the night before remains, a comfort.

“I think I might be,” He admits, eyes darting to the side and lingering on the pitcher of wine on a nearby table. He wonders if it is empty. “Slightly.”

When it seems his mother is intent on merely staring at him in disappointment, he motions for her to turn away and gets dressed.

He can’t help but feel unseemly, standing before his mother in rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, while she stands tall with not a strand of hair out of order, not a speck of dust on her dress. Then again, even at his best he hasn’t managed not to feel small, unsuited, by comparison.

Instead of letting those thoughts linger, aided by the comfortable haze the wine from the previous night -or nights, rather- provides him with, Aegon moves to sit on a table in one of the darker parts of the room.

Alicent follows quietly, but she doesn’t sit.

“I come here with news. You are to be married, n-…”

He shakes his head with a mocking laugh, the defiance as easy as breathing, after four years of holding the same stance. He might not have a say in much, but he does in this.

“No, I’m not.”

“Your father has approved of this union. As have I.”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Then you are welcome to marry her yourselves. I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you three.”

Sometimes, perhaps in foolish hope, in some hollow fantasy, he thinks his impertinence amuses his mother. He might imagine it, he’s quite certain he does, but sometimes he swears she furrows her lips to hide the faintest of smiles.

But of course, she shows no give, betrays not a flicker of amusement, of softness, of anything. Try as he might to earn any of them.

“I did not come here to entertain insolence.”

“Why did you come here, mother?” He asks, not able to reign in the restless movements of his hands, fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the table. “My stance hasn’t changed. And it won’t.”

The restlessness building within her is betrayed in the small movements of her hands that increase in intensity the longer she looks at him. With a sudden movement, she slams a hand on the table between them and leans closer.

“You cannot go on like this, Aegon, shrinking your duty because of the denial of a caprice of your youth.”

“It was the one thing I asked for. I haven’t asked for anything since, nor did I ask for anything before.”

His mother scoffs in response, looking away.

“And that is reason enough for your wish to be granted?” She asks, derisive, almost jeering. Alicent leans back, straightens her stance again. Not too unlike Aemond adjusting his posture to strike with his sword during training, he supposes. “You have gone through your entire life doing as you please, not considering the cost to your family, to your House, to me, and you expected to be rewarded?”

But he has considered the cost, has had no choice but to consider it, when every choice, every action, it seems almost every thought, is heavy with the impact it might have on his name, on his family. He has considered the cost, but try as he might no choice, no action, has been enough.

“It would have…It would have changed things. If you had said yes,” He argues, an argument repeated, in his head if not aloud, a thousand times over in these passing years. And yet restlessness builds within him regardless, and he finds himself grasping at the table to keep his hands from fidgeting. “It was the smart choice. You know father would have been for it. You could have kept Vermithor on our side, and given them no choice but to play by our rules with their daughter here. We might have won this war you want so b-…”

“All I have wanted is to make sure your lives are not forfeit when your father dies. It is not war I want.”

“Then why did you say no?”

She shakes her head as she looks away again.

“The matter is settled. Long settled.”

“Yet you never told me why.”

He wants to hear it. More than an apology for denying him a chance at happiness, more than an admission that beyond the feelings of any involved it was the smartest choice, more than anything, he wants to hear her tell him why.

She didn’t even hear his reasons, she didn’t even consider proposing the union to your mother, or Viserys. She dismissed him, and denied him, without even a second thought.

He wants to know the reason why. If it was because she knew of you something he didn’t, and was certain you would have rejected him even at the cost of your home and life as you knew it, he wants to know. If it was because she believes him so monstrous that she wished to protect even the daughter of her lifelong adversary from him, he wants to know.

If it was because in his weakness and his failings he has made himself into something even his own mother wishes to see punished, or because there was something he did -because it had to be something he did, there cannot be so many that were supposed to love him and refuse to for it not to be something he is doing wrong, something about him that is wrong- that not only managed to make his mother’s love for him vanish, but also earned him her scorn, he wants to know. He thinks knowing that to be the truth would splinter him in a way he isn’t sure he’d be able to recover from, but he is tired, and alone, and he wants to know why.

He searches his mother’s gaze, desperate for an answer, any answer. She looks back, and yet all that is reflected back at him is contempt, disappointment, and what he fears is disgust.

“It has been years, Aegon. You are being senselessly stubborn, holding onto this…this grudge against me.”

He makes a face at her words, and grabs the pitcher in the table before him only to find it empty, the only wine remaining being that still in the half-filled cup.

“It is not a grudge, I-..”

“Weakness, then,” She sentences, and he doesn’t bother hiding the flinch at her words. His gaze lowers to the table before him. “You’re being a fool, if you think after all this t-…”

His eyes are set on the half-full cup of wine before him, and he doesn’t dare move his gaze as he interrupts, “I am not marrying, mother.”

She considers him in silence, and though for a moment he thinks a hit is to come -he doesn’t usually get away with interrupting her-, followed by her footsteps leaving the room, his mother takes a deep breath and insists,

“It is not me or your father who request this of you. It is your King who commands it.”

“The King, or his Hand?” He retorts. He grabs at the cup and downs the remaining liquid, making a face at the taste of stale wine, and presses on, “I’m guessing a Baratheon, to earn Borros’ support? Or a Tully, to secure the Riverlands?”

For the briefest of moments, when his mother’s lips press into a thin line, hands fidgeting where they rest joined before her, he thinks he finally got the upper hand. That he proved he isn’t as blind to their plots and their increasing panic at Rhaenyra’s influence as he may appear. That he proved her wrong, that he showed he isn’t as incompetent as they’d like to think, that he…

“A Velaryon,” Alicent admits, and any pride, any satisfaction, die out like flames in a room without air. His lips part, he knows not for what since all that leaves them is a choked breath, the beginning of a question, of a name. Aegon searches his mother’s gaze, attempts to find any truth, any certainty, but Alicent looks away. Her next words sound as if heard from underwater. “To keep you from certain execution when your sister ascends the Iron Throne.”

“Do not toy with me, mother,” He means for it to sound like an accusation, like a demand, like anything but a plea, and yet that is what leaves his lips. Betrayed by the waver in his voice, by the iron grip on the glass, he goes on, “She’s touring the whole of fucking Westeros in search of a husband as we speak.”

“She has made her choice, Aegon. It was you she chose,” She promises, and her voice is low and warm and almost comforting, so why does it feel wrong? Why does it make him want to crawl out of his own skin? “As for the tour, it will continue as scheduled. Rhaenyra deserted her own tour before time was due, she knows better than to repeat her mother’s mistake.”

Breathable air is lacking by this chair, in this room, and he stands up, wincing at the too-loud sound of the chair scraping against the ground.

He eyes a pitcher of wine in another table, and crosses the distance with quick strides, refilling his cup and draining half of it before turning to his mother again.

“Why tell me now? I-If the tour is to continue,” If she can still change her mind, “Why tell me now?”

“Your grandsire and I believed you might take this opportunity to amend your behaviors,” Alicent tells him, “So you might save your future wife the embarrassment, so you might protect her honor, seeing as you do not care for ours or your own.”

She hasn’t said your name yet, he notices.

Neither has he, but he has forgotten when it was the last time that he said it aloud. Intentionally, that is, he doesn’t count any time he let it slip past his lips when deep in his cups or buried inside some whore with the wrong shade of silver in her hair -and the wrong eyes, and the wrong voice, and the wrong smile, and the wrong touch-.

Aegon can’t even remember when it was that he decided he wouldn’t utter your name again, all he knows is that through the years what started out of spite, as a way to deny the wound and the absence; has become something else. It has become to him something like a secret, something to be hoarded, to be kept his alone.

Because there’s pride, and satisfaction, and something rotten but his, in having known you in ways no other did. In remembering you how he is certain -he has to be, it is of the few things he has left- no one has known you.

And so he doesn’t speak your name. Lest in sharing any of the warmth of a bond long gone he loses it, dying embers to a strong wind; lest in admitting old truths he is left behind also by the part of you that he keeps safe, a secret only his.

But now in his head resonate so loudly that they drown anything else -like thunder, like the beat of Vermithor’s wings taking you far up into the sky- his mother’s words.

It was you she chose.

Thinking of you has always meant the resurgence of the memory of the goodbye you refused to grant him, of waking to the reverberating cry of Vermithor as he took to the skies with you on his back and flew you away to Dragonstone; or the memory of your disappointment and your sorrow as he avoided your gaze and your words when you met again in Driftmark.

Yet now the memory that comes forth in his mind is another.

You smiled at him, daring and entirely too proud. But how could you not be, when you both knew he would oblige? How could you not be, when he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze from your lips since you had asked him for something as simple as a kiss? And your voice was softer than he’d expected -or perhaps he remembers it softer than it was, perhaps he sees something else when desire was all there was-, warmer than it had ever been, when you whispered, I want it to be you.

And what harm can your name do that his own mind hasn’t inflicted upon him already? What ruin can the uttering of such a familiar word bring that the memories haven’t wrought already?

So he says your name. Willingly, rationally, for the first time in years.

He thought the foolish refusal to utter your name aloud kept you distant, kept the memory of you, the idea of you, as something far from him, gone from him. But he realizes now, with the shape of your name parting his lips and the taste of memories staining his tongue like ash; that you have been a distant memory, a distant dream, for a very long time.

And the knowledge that you chose him, the helpless hope that blooms somewhere in his chest, they cannot do a thing against the horrifying certainty that the future he wanted, the future he mourned, is lost to him regardless of your choices now.

What can he give you now, that that Tyrell knight the rumors say you were so enamored with cannot? How can he not fail whatever expectations you have of him, as he has failed all others? How could you want him now, as what he has made out of himself in these years you’ve spent apart?

It was a comfort, he realizes now, thinking you lost. The comfort of knowing he couldn’t fail you, couldn’t earn your scorn when he had merely your indifference.

A bitter, wretched little laugh leaves his lips then, and he turns his head -to hide, perhaps, the tears brimming in his eyes, the weakness his mother so loathes to see from him- and looks out the window towards the distant skies.

Alicent doesn’t move, merely stands taller, prouder, and presses,

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Of course, this is what he fucking wanted, but nearly four years have gone by since he asked to be allowed to marry you and was refused. Even if some part of him wants it, wants you, still, it matters not.

It is what he wanted, before. Before everything got worse, before everything got louder, harder. Before he got worse. Before you forgot about him.

His mother approaches him then, and though he jumps when he sees her reach for him out of the corner of his eye, she grabs onto his forearm and speaks again, forceful, determined,

“Listen to me, Aegon. Your sister has secured her hold on the Seven Kingdoms, both through the strength of her dragons and through her eldest children’s diplomacy with the noble Houses,” His mother tells him, but he cannot hear her, not over the warring thoughts of finally, finally, finally, and too late, too late, too late. “Rhaenyra has allowed for this to happen because she wishes to extend an offer of peace, and you cannot squander this opportunity.”

He turns to her and asks, quietly, forlorning, “Why now?”

“What?”

“Why now?”

Why now, that everything is worse? Why now, that he has become this?

For a moment, a flickering moment gone in the blink of an eye, he thinks he sees sadness, sympathy, in his mother’s warm gaze. For a moment, he believes she will offer words or touch in the way she hasn’t before, in comfort or in reassurance.

But her gaze falls from his, and her grip on his arm -too tight, almost bruising, yet wanted, needed, if it is all he can get- loosens as she lets go of him.

“The betrothal will be announced when the tour is over. The wedding in a week’s time from then.” She tells him, detached, not unlike a messenger delivering a missive.

And with that she leaves his apartments. The door closing echoes in his mind, and he is left behind with a loneliness he doesn’t know where to put, and a hope he doesn’t know how not to fear.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, and I would love to hear your thoughts!

I am endlessly fascinated by the greens and their deeply weird dynamics, and I hope I did them a modicum of justice, even when changed in this AU and despite the influence of fanon in my interpretations of them.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon ii fanfic #fics by me

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octahyde · 2 months

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Book 1: Riddle is under immense amount of pressure to live up to the impossible expectations of his abusive mother. When someone stands up to him and calls him out, he cracks.

Book 2: After being demonized his entire life in favor of his golden child of an older brother, Leona snaps at the idea of only being second best to someone else at the only thing he cares about.

Book 3: Azul got the ever loving shit bullied out of himself as a child. As an unhealthy coping mechanism started building himself up to be better than everyone else, only for the shell he made to start rapidly crumbling when things went too far.

Book 4: Jamil was a literal slave and wanted freedom like.

Book 5: Vil has severe imposter syndrome from getting cast as villains his entire life no matter how hard he tries to be more approachable, while his (onesided) rival gets everything he is desperate for naturally.

Book 6: Idia is the princess of the Illuminati who feels responsible for the gruesome death of her 8 year old brother 8 years prior. When she is forced into an authority position she does not want, knowing it’ll be her life in a couple of years, the ghost of her brother speaks to her. They literally open the gates of hell to try to start the apocalypse and rebuild a new world where they are the heroes of humanity.

Book 7: Being isolated his entire life, Malleus has been severely emotionally stunted. When he suddenly finds out he could be losing the two most important people to him, he panics.

#Why are the shrouds fucking like this they’re fucking insane #Every time I get into a series I just immediately pick the most insane characters to be my favorite #twst #twsisted wonderland #disney twst #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #ignihyde #diasomnia

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bunnyhugs77 · 9 months

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Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"

Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.

The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.

"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.

Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.

"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.

With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".

The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.

You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.

The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.

You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.

By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.

You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.

The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.

"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."

Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.

"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.

"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.

You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.

"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.

With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.

"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.

"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.

If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.

"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.

"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.

"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.

There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.

Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.

Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."

"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.

You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--

"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.

Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.

"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.

"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.

His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.

"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.

"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."

You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.

The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.

Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.

"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.

"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"

The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.

"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.

"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."

"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.

"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.

"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.

You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.

"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."

Oh boy.

Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.

"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--

"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.

"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.

"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.

You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."

As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.

"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.

"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."

"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.

As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.

"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.

She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."

You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.

"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."

Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."

You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.

"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.

You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.

You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.

Meanwhile,

"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.

In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."

She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."

"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

"Your bus broke down? Where?"

"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.

The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.

No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.

Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.

You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.

"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.

"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."

"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.

You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.

It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.

The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.

"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.

"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."

"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.

"You don't have to-"

"I was 19."

Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.

"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."

Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.

"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."

You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."

Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.

"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"

You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.

"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"

"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"

The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.

There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.

Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.

By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.

"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.

You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"

A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."

Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?

How couldn't you like it?

Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.

You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.

Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.

Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.

Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.

Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.

With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.

Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.

"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.

He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.

Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.

Oh, and his hair was blonde.

Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.

"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.

Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.

"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"

Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.

"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."

Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.

"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.

The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.

"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.

It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.

You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.

"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.

"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.

"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.

"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.

One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.

"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.

Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.

"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.

Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"

He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."

Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.

Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."

The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.

"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.

Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.

"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.

"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.

"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.

"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.

Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.

The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.

Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.

Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.

"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.

"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."

"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.

He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.

It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.

He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.

The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.

Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.

Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.

Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.

He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.

"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.

"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.

Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.

You shouldn't.

But the buzzing wouldn't stop.

What if it was an emergency?

You peeked at the screen.

Hana

-Where are you?

-I can't stop thinking about our night together.

-Pick up, I want to talk to you.

-When will I see you again? :(

Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.

You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.

Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.

"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.

"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.

"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.

Thanks for Reading!!

Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist <3

#jungkook smut #bts #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fic recs #jeon jungkook #jungkook ff #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #btssmuts

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b14augrana · 3 months

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Kiss of Strife

Football has always been your safe haven, but your home life gradually starts to manifest in different ways away from home, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your captain

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of family issues associated with emotional unavailability and forms of abuse. read at your own discretion

A/N: an alexia x teen!reader angst fic was requested so here it is!! i decided this will be multiple parts as well so i hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of this little series

(i wrote this pretty late at night and it isnt proofread so please excuse any mistakes regarding the tense, grammar etcetc)

Everything is perfect.

You’re scoring goals for your club and bagging assists. Your name is no longer a strange string of consonants and vowels but a recognisable word within the community of Cataluña, and it is only because of an ambition you dedicated the rest of your life to pursuing.

That’s just in the face of football though.

At home, there is a drought. The four walls of a family house are meant to behave like a dam which stores love and affection in the place of water, but your house is devoid of that.

Your house fosters a bitterness that doesn’t go hand in hand with anything along the lines of love and affection. The drawings on the fridge, created by a 5-year-old you, have faded over time, the ink being nothing more than splotches in some areas — a testament to the lack of care and attention your efforts received.

Relationships are barely surviving on simple greetings and empty ‘I love yous’. You crave something that is dangerous to want, but in your heart burns a desire to get the hell out.

Your lullaby is the faint yelling from the living room as you shut your eyes and focus on the gradually increasing volume of both voices, contradicting each other and trying to stab each other with no blade.

Your little sister crawls into your bed, her body flush against yours, another little arm wrapped around hers. Beneath your covers, there is warmth. Beneath your grip, there is safety.

During the school holidays, a child is supposed to savour every waking moment they spend at home and appreciate every day of it. You find yourself asking God why that isn’t the case, as you walk to practise with your sister’s hand in yours.

She sits on the sidelines picking grass as you train with your teammates, dreading the inevitable passing of minutes as you practise skill after skill. When you retreat to the bench for a quick water break, she runs up to you, bunches of chamomiles clutched in her hands that she begs to insert between the weaving of your braid.

From the day of your first training with the team, Alexia was drawn to you. She blamed it on her captain instincts, seeing as you’re the youngest on the team and therefore has the most potential, but now it’s gone beyond her captaincy. She’s known you for months, almost a full year now. She isn’t just your captain anymore.

She isn’t aware of the reality of your home life beyond the telltale signs such as the slightly sunken skin below your eyes or the bruises that taint your skin and are allegedly caused by your ‘clumsiness’. She knows there is something more to the extra effort you constantly put into training and games — she doesn’t know yet that it’s the pent up anger, sadness and fear manifesting in more productive forms.

You pour your heart and soul into the movement of the ball, in hopes that you can pursue your dreams of running away from what is restricting you from pursuing even greater dreams, an actual dream.

School starts back up for your sister. Things have been looking up for you, a huge burden off your shoulders. The house hasn’t shaken with another argument for a while and for once you get to know what silence is while you sleep, really sleep.

With every passing day, you find your memories with your father to resemble a garden; you can’t have a garden without flowers, just like how you can’t have memories of him without doing anything with him. When you were young, your garden was comparable to a rainforest, a new species in every corner, a kaleidoscope of beauty..

Until there was no more new species to plant and nurture, and the ones that already existed were getting neglected because all that you receive when you look at them are sour memories of what once was — the gardener you used to be, how rich the soil was, how steadily the flowers grew and how proud you were of your garden.

Your garden is dead now. It has gotten to the point where he doesn’t care about planting new flowers or watering the plants that already exist, leaving them to die of thirst. He’s absent and his emotional unavailability killed your flowers.

The little girl in you that wanted nothing else but love from her parents, loved that garden with her whole heart. She would’ve done anything she could to plant one more flower, she would’ve used the last drop of water in a drought to water her plants.

Alexia noticed something different about you today. The way you bounced around rather than the usual trudge… you had actual, sleep-induced energy.

Your sister also isn't with you. Alexia later asks you about it while you two are getting water and she learns that your sister is at school, and there is a smile on your face that she didn’t even realise had been absent for days until she saw it again.

Alexia has always been nice to you. The others treat you like a teammate, but she treats you like a friend. It feels like a special privilege, knowing ‘La Reina’ personally. She’s obviously a pillar in women’s football but to you, she’s much more.

She harbours a soft spot for you in her heart that becomes evident when she asks you if you need a ride home, and who are you to turn down such an offer when the ache in your legs is close to becoming unbearable?

“You’re talented, chica,” the woman says as you slink into the passenger seat of her car. “I haven’t had the chance to say it, but there hasn’t been a player like you for quite a bit.”

Her praise is so much more than just a couple of words from your captain. Though you smile and say a shy thank you, your heart races because you’ve just been called talented by one of the best players in the world, and there is no feeling greater than that. It gives you a tiny sliver of hope for a brighter future than what you’re already living, and for a moment, escaping your four walls seems possible.

The joy you experienced during the whole car ride is short lived once her car pulls into your driveway. Perhaps she can see the way your expression drops and your demeanour falls, because her hand finds your shoulder and squeezes it in a way that comforts you. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?” she asks, and though you really wish she could, you shake your head for the better.

There’s a slight frown on her face before she nods and drops her hand. You think about the possibility of her knowing that there’s something going on behind the closed doors of your home, and a big part of you hopes so, but no words besides a ‘gracías’ and ‘adios’ manage to find their way out of your mouth despite the pleas for help and support bubbling in your throat as you shut the door of her car.

When you reach the patio, the door opens to bombard you with the raucous of an argument happening around the corner of the hallway.

Your limbs are barely functioning and your eyes are struggling to stay open which is an obvious sign of the exhaustion soaring through your body, hence why you skip right past seeing your parents and beeline towards your sister’s room.

For as long as you can remember, arguments have been a consistent part of evenings spent in your household. Sometimes violence finds itself becoming the last resort, leaving you stuck to bear the brunt of a heavy hand. It’s what happens when two sides of the same coin try to work out — two negatives can’t make a positive, it’s impossible for them to get along and there is never a last word. That’s the unfortunate reality of your parents’ relationship.

You sink into the soft mattress of your sister’s bed and beckon her from the desk to lay beside you. She flips her paper over and abandons the seat to run over to you, her little body falling into your embrace. When she asks you what they’re talking about this time, you tell your sister that they’re just having a little disagreement, and if she sleeps it off, it’ll go away. It’s a promise, you say, before you proceed to tell her all about your training and your teammates. It’s her favourite thing, and she says it’s better than a bedtime story.

In no time, little exhales slip past her mouth as her eyes flutter shut, and you roll her off your body, tucking her into the butterfly printed duvet. With tentative steps across the hardwood, you find yourself at her desk and your fingers ghost over the piece of paper as you squint to read it in the dimness of her nightlight.

‘Mi papá hermana guapa

My sister is strong. She plays fútbol and she is good at it. My sister takes care of me and takes me to her pracktise, I like going with my sister. She helps me sleep and when I am with my sister, I am not scared. I am proud of m–…’

And the rest trails off. The body remains incomplete, but there’s one last sentence at the bottom of the page.

‘Amo a mi hermana.’

You place it back on her desk as you fail to combat the tears flooding your waterline. ‘She must’ve been instructed to write a poem by her teacher… for Father’s Day’, you think to yourself. Turning away so you don’t ruin her writing with your tears, you wiped them with the back of your Barça jacket sleeve and flipped the page around before making a dead silent exit. The house was completely still beside the low noise of talking from the TV and light snoring.

Your tears are not because of happiness. No, they stream down your face because it’s then that you realise something, and it opens up a whole new portal of questions.

As the streak of silence is broken and you’re forced to fall asleep to the low humming noise from the living room and a restless mind, you wonder what twisted realm of anger and bitterness your father lives in that forbids him from showing the smallest signs of love to his kids.

But, you already know the answer to that question, deep down. Instead, you wonder if you’ll see Alexia tomorrow, stretching in her usual spot, and you wonder if she’ll look up and smile at you again and invite you over.

You hope that’s what will happen. You pray for it.

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blueiight · 1 year

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theres this quote running around from jacob anderson where he talks about how historically black people have been removed from period dramas and how, as suggested by the interviewer (w/ blueiight embellishment ofc), the very few times black charas would show up in these period pieces theyd be side characters delegated to a raceblind narratively incoherent plot to placate an audience ashamed with / of the nuances of blackness. i rly like how he said louis’s character represents both a ‘black and very human story about a vampire… [Black people] do not usually have the opportunity to play such complex and fluent characters’. i think that brings to heart a lot of why this show has my heart, as an armchair historian and r.n. (dont ask what that stands for). u racebent characters in a way that coheres, situate ur black characters in a specific context, and the story never deludes us into thinking the mere existence of an interracial relationship is enough to end racism. in e2 louis literally says “fledgling sounds like slave, dont call me that” and e3 starts with louis telling lestat the history of dismembering runaway enslaved ppl & placing their bodies on the gates of of jackson square.. in his initiation to vampirism, louis is moved from the historically Black creole treme area he grew up in & is placed into lestat’s townhome in the very white, french, old quarter. vampirism as hes initiated into is a loving, powerful, cruel, and isolating existence for louis. bc of vampirism he is able to kill a racist person and not be lynched for it, hes able to echo the historical dismemberment on the alderman by placing his body on the st louis cathedral, but he is unable to kill racist groups & systems that initiate race riots. his connection to claudia in s1 is not so much by the oedipal, but by both their connection as lestat’s fledglings and as Black [creole] people placed in a part of the city largely alien to them both. this connection can be broken down even further. louis saw claudia as his joychild of sorts, ‘[his] redemption’ for his 5 years of pimping but a big part of her tragedy is that a child being made into a vampire cannot redeem anyone, much less redeem an individual from what was a historical inevitability. claudia is adopted into such a stature that she wouldve otherwise never reached by virtue of being made a vampire, but even then that is conditional. claudia is rendered inert from being anyone’s ‘wife’ forever trapped in the confines of immaturity as a ‘daughter’, only hoping at best to be louis’s ‘sister’ and isnt that resonant to bw.. she’s selectively infantilized both a child ‘meddling in the affairs of her parents’ , ungrateful, arrogant, and adultified - presumed powerful enough to ‘poison louis against [lestat]’ , taking on the role of louis’s ‘knight in vengeful white black’ .. the response lestat has to claudia is characterized by him continuing the cycle of abuse he once faced toward her and with a black claudia who was once a poor girl now adopted into this immortal luxury it takes on a racialized element. “bach is beyond you” and claudia bites back with “yes this french music is hmm. not made for these mongrel ears”. the absence of metaphor is striking!! literally the fact that this show does not shy away from the era its set in is why its so good.

#yn.#iwtv #louis de pointe du lac #claudia #family from hell #Wait its more than 5 years. whats 5 (mortal) + 7(vampire) years

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thistlecatfics · 4 months

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Talking about Incest in Public

(both the painful traumatic kind and the hot fictional kind)

As it turns out, lots of the people who read and write taboo fiction have survived some deeply fucked up shit. After talking about incest with other survivors on the Moon, Sun & Stars discord and answering questions, I decided to share more about my experiences and the things that helped me survive and the things that helped me heal, because there are a lot of us, and a lot of us feel very alone, and maybe there are other people who aren’t incest survivors but who might want to know more to better support the survivors in their life.

–

Incest is not just a sexual act between two family members -- it's a larger system of absence of boundaries within a family, and it's almost always part of multiple incestuous dynamics, even if only one might be the obvious or explicit dynamic.

If you’re an incest survivor, you’re almost certainly not the only one in your family.

“The true characteristics and dimensions of incestuous abuse have been masked by the taboo and silence that have surrounded its occurrence. Recent research demonstrates that incest occurs regularly in our society, perpetrated by individuals who, for the most part, would otherwise be regarded as fairly normal. The taboo on incestuous relations is a deterrent to some would-be perpetrators but not to others. The taboo contradicts the reality of incest prevalence, a fact which led Armstrong (1978) to comment that th taboo has been on the open discussion of incest and not on its perpetration.”

-Christine Courtois, “Healing the Incest Wound: Adult Survivors in Therapy”

–

To use my family as an example -

My (similarly aged) brother did sexual things to me as a kid, and I had a range of reactions to it including pleasure and enjoyment. And confusion. And fear. I do not think he is bad or even what he did was bad. I think we were both two kids who existed in a family with incestuous dynamics, and we were both shaped by those dynamics and trying our best to survive.

From a young age, I existed as a physical comfort object to my mom (when she was sad she'd get into my bed to hold me until she felt better while I dissociated), and I took on the idea that my role in the family was for my body to be used to make other people feel good. The sexual behavior by my brother felt like an extension of how my mom held me.

My mother was the victim of incest from her uncle, and her parents sided with her uncle over her when she spoke out about it (even after he was facing legal consequences for his behavior with kids outside of the family) (even after he fled the country). She didn't know how to emotionally regulate herself, and I don't think she had (or has) the capacity to understand a child's need for physical autonomy and boundaries because her own were never respected.

There were other incestuous behaviors and dynamics within my family which I'm continuously discovering and unpacking. I think my mom’s uncle abused my grandmother too but I’ll never know for sure. It’s deeply uncomfortable to look back on a happy family story or a childhood nickname and see something sinister underneath and wonder if you’re being paranoid or if it’s actually that bad.

–

Things that have helped:

Long term relational therapy (5+ years). EMDR. Adopting a cat. Adopting more cats. Antidepressants. Reading about incest (realistic, terrifying, academic). Reading about incest (fictional, hot, amateur). Being a competitive athlete. Getting a graduate degree. Going on long walks late at night. Telling my family I had Covid so I could skip a family vacation.

These books specifically: Healing the Incest Wound by Christine Courtois, The Myth of Normal, Dissociation Made Simple, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, The Narcissistic Family Unit, Clementine Morrigan’s writing x1000.

The protector parts: Eating disorder. Self harm. Drinking. Perfectionism. Depression. Suicidal ideation. I’m grateful to these imperfect protectors I’ve leaned on over the years.

Things that have not helped:

You will be shocked to hear that people on the internet yelling about how people who find fictional incest hot are disgusting and bad and dangerous did NOT in fact help me unlearn the belief that experiencing incest made me disgusting and bad and dangerous. Luckily, I’m built of spite. But it certainly did not help.

(If I think about my vulnerable pre-teen/teen self reading those things, I become deeply angry. How dare you hurt her in the name of protection.)

- I don’t cater to all these vipers Dressed in empath’s clothing God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what’s best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see

-Taylor Swift, But Daddy I Love Him

After I discovered fanfiction in middle school, and then after I realized that there was a world beyond OFC/Draco Malfoy fic, I read a lot of Blackcest. I devoured any I could find, hopping through rec lists on LiveJournal.

Reading Blackcest fics, first Bellatrix/Sirius then Sirius/Regulus mostly, allowed me to see my experiences reflected. Those fics gave me a way to contextualize my family and my role in it. I hate the expectation that kids who experience bad things should go to a safe trusted adult rather than find art that romanticizes their experience. The whole point is that there isn’t a safe trusted adult. The whole point is that I needed the art. I got to hold the romanticized narrative until I got far enough away that I could put it away in a box until I had enough therapy that I could safely open the box and build a new, more honest story.

Obviously plenty of people love incest smut and fic and art. It’s taboo! It’s angsty! It’s a classic! Probably most of those people don’t have direct personal experience with incest in their families. I’m glad they read and write fics too.

But for me – have you ever experienced something you believe so strongly you will never be able to say aloud? That any time you see your secret referenced it’s in shock and disgust and revulsion? You can pretend – you’re very good at pretending – but you know it’s real, and you know it’s your secret you’ll hold onto for the rest of your life while the world reminds you how disgusting you are?

Then you find that people are writing about what you experienced in a thousand variations that all contain some nugget of your truth.

I cannot express in words how important it was that I found those stories at that time.

I never commented on a single fic. I never made a single account on any of the sites I read fanfiction on. I clicked the “yes I’m 18” box without hesitation every time. I wish I could go back in time and have my adult self articulate the enormity of my gratitude for each and every author who helped save me whose work exists on sites I can only revisit with the Wayback Machine.

I understand why people might feel horrified at the idea of a 11-12 year old reading smutty incest Harry Potter fanfic. People aren’t wrong for feeling that way.

That said, I truly don’t care what people who aren’t incest survivors think.

I’m so proud of that child for finding a way to survive. She might have hated herself, might have fantasized about death, but she survived and kept the truth of her experience wrapped up in a fictional world where it could be safe to explore and kept it there until years and years of therapy made it possible to engage with it in reality.

- I’m a real tough kid I can handle my shit They said, babe, you got to fake it till you make it And I did

-Taylor Swift, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart -

No one is writing about incest the way Clementine Morrigan is right now. I’m so grateful for her. I’m not sure this little tumblr post would exist without her essay series.

"Incest functions as a spell of unreality. A structure of nothingness. A completely normal and unremarkable family life in which something unnameable is ominously and terrifyingly wrong. You know in the summer when you can see the heat making the air go squiggly? Imagine those squiggles as an indication that in the seeming nothingness, there is something there. Incest is like that. Subtle, pervasive, unthinkable, unnameable. But present, felt.

As a teenager I came up with this metaphor: Imagine you are in a house full of bugs. There are bugs crawling all over all the walls and all the furniture and in your food and even on the fork you are lifting to your mouth. And you feel disgusted, you feel like something is really wrong. But your whole family is acting completely normal, laughing and eating and talking as bugs crawl over their faces and into their mouths. When you tell them you think there are bugs in your food your family says it’s just pepper and not to worry about it.

There is no way to talk about incest without feeling that you are lying. This is because incest lives in the realm of unreality and everything in the realm of unreality cannot be thought or said or named. When you speak of things that happen in the realm of unreality it will always feel like a lie and be treated like a lie. You are breaking the fundamental rule. You are not allowed to talk about what goes on in the realm of unreality because it isn’t real."

Read more and pay for her writing if you can on her substack.

Without a doubt, the not-explicitly-sexual incest from my mom fucked me up more than the explicitly sexual incest from my brother, but I only feel confident claiming the incest survivor label because sexual stuff was done to me by a family member, and I still feel like I’m lying sometimes because it wasn't bad enough to count.

I’m a literal mental health clinician who can map out various incestuous dynamics within my family and who has clear memories of a family member doing sexual stuff to my child body, and I still feel like I’m lying.

I believe you if you feel like a liar because I bet you do. I believe you if the incest never included anything directly physical. I believe you if you enjoyed it. I believe you if you don’t remember but feel like it’s true.

I love us.

If we’re monsters, I love our courageous monstrosity.

If we’re liars, I love the way we make up stories to survive when reality is impossible.

If we’re an uncomfortable truth, good.

It still impacts me. I’m not over it.

It’s very difficult for me to imagine love that does not include violation. To be loved and to be allowed to maintain a self.

But I’m open to learning otherwise, and that openness is new.

I was so, so good at living in unreality. I could make myself perfect, such a flawless object until I couldn’t think of anything except killing myself, but even then I still maintained the image of perfection my family expected.

It’s cool I never actually killed myself.

I find it hard to be around my family now. There are advantages of living in unreality. I drink a lot more when I’m around my family than I ever did before, but I don’t think about killing myself nearly as much. Reality is worth it. Being able to exist as a person is worth it.

- I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

-Sylvia Plath

- I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. (I insist.)

It didn’t kill me then. It’s not going to kill me now. (I remind myself.)

My life is worth living, and there are fights worth fighting, and it is undeniably true the world is full of horror, but it is good to write and create and be alive, and it is good to try. I’m a little afraid to post this, but the fear and shame isn’t mine to hold, and I never should have been the one holding it.

Consider this a thank you note sent out to the universe in the hopes the sentiment echoes towards those authors who saved me then and to all the writers who are saving people now. Your art matters. No matter how weird or niche or dismissed or hated it is. It matters.

Thank you.

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fallingdownhell · 7 months

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If it's no bother the whole meeting family and sister being favoured ordeal but with Wanderer, Xiao, Childe and Tighnari please! Yummy comfort...🤤

Honestly.. I did my best with it, but I don't know if I'll do another addition to this from now on. It feels like I'm always writing the exact same thing, and I feel like it's getting boring and repetitive...

Let me know what you think about it, please, because I really don't know.

Characters Included: Wanderer; Xiao; Tighnari

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; reader has a sister; hurt/comfort; mention of past (child) abuse; mention of child neglect; insults; slight racism against Tighnari; not proofread yet

Word count: 3,7k words

Requested by: @ahtopoteyto

Enjoy everyone<3

Wanderer

When you suddenly hit him with the question of wether he wanted to meet your parents or not, he was confused and slightly shocked. From what he had gathered over the time you've been dating, you did not have a very good connection with your parents.

You never really talked about them or told him stories about your childhood. The first few times he asked you about them, he vividly remembers how your face became pale and you simply stating that you didn't want to talk about this. So he let it be, not bothering you with it anymore.

So for you to suddenly ask him this after months of not even mentioning anything related to this subject, he found it highly suspicious.

"Where's this coming from so suddenly?", he asks, taking your hand and sitting you down on the couch next to him. He can already tell how much it cost you to simply ask him that question.

"W-well... I just thought that maybe it's something you'd want. I mean.. normally, in relationships, you introduce your parnters to your parents. So, I thought, maybe we should do that, too..?"

You sounded so meek and unsure of yourself, he hated to see you like this. He may not know the full story about what happened between you and your parents, but if it made you that uncomfortable just talking about them, then that's all he needed to know. He would never knowingly put you through something horrible.

So, to reassure you, he circled his arms around you, pulling you against his chest while placing his chin on top of your head as he just held you like this. "Don't force yourself to do something you don't want to do. Our relationship isn't exactly normal anyways. I don't care about meeting your parents. You don't like them, that's enough for me to also dislike them."

That made you laugh a bit, and he also relaxed a bit, knowing that if that could make you laugh, you were already feeling a bit better.

"Even so.. I think you should know why I don't have contact with them anymore..", you quietly spoke after some time.

"Only if you want to tell me. You don't have to force yourself.", was his answer, but you insisted, finally wanting him to know, since you've already kept it to yourself for so long.

And so, you told him about all the things you went through when you were younger, still living with and depending on your parents. You told him how you were the oldest child of your parents, and for a while, everything was good. There were normal, loving and even spoiled you a bit as a child.

But when you were 6 years old, your parents decided to have a second child, and so, your sister was born when you were 7. And suddenly, it was like you didn't exist anymore.

Your parents focused all their love and attention towards your baby sister, leaving you to figure things out by yourself. They at least still provided food for you, but anything else you were left to your own devices.

By the time you were 12 years old, you were practically living by yourself, though you were still in your parents house. You were cooking your own meals, doing your own laundry, managing school stuff and all that your parents were supposed to do for you.

Your sister was only 5 years old, she was just a happy child and didn't know about the clear favouritism and neglect going on. She was just a sweet child that wanted to play with her sister. You couldn't hate her, since she didn't do anything wrong.

From time to time, you tried to get your parents attention, either with your grades or other achievements, but they always brushed you aside to focus on your sister, since they claimed she needed their attention more than you did.

It hurt, and you kept on trying and trying, until eventually, you realised that it had no sense and you just stopped. You knew that they would never love you like they did with your sister. So, as soon as you could, you started a part time job to save up some money, so you could leave when you needed to.

The older you and your sister got, the more she also became aware of the favouritism. Luckily, it didn't grow over her head, and she tried her best to get your mom and dad to focus on you, too. But they never did. Instead, your sister spent time with you, which you were really greatful for.

When the time came, you were old enough and had enough money saved, you left your home. You told no one, except for your sister. She was sad to see you leave, but she understood why you did it, and wished you the best of luck. Even to this day, you hold some sort of loose contact to her.

Your parents however? You haven't heard a word from them since you've left. You weren't even sure if they've noticed your dissapearance, if they even remembered that they had an older child. But you were glad, you didn't want anything to do with them in the first place.

While listening to your story, Wanderer felt himself get more and more angry on your behalf. How dare they treat their own child in such a way? What kind of a parent would do such a thing?

He was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists. He wanted so bad to make them pay for what they did to you. But then he focused back on you, still in his arms, sobbing as you were telling him your story. No matter how much you reassured him that you were fine, it was still affecting you.

So instead, he focused and channeled his anger into the love and worry he had for you. He tightend his hold around you, planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry you had to live through something like that. But that's all in the past. You're here now, with me. You've achieved so much for yourself and by yourself, so you can be proud of you. And I'll be by your side for each and every step in the future. I won't let something like this ever happen to you again. And if you ever want me to pay your parents a little visit... let me know."

That last statement brought him a small hit to his side, but he merely laughed it off.

You'd always be his number one. Forever and always..

Xiao

Having an Adeptus as your boyfriend, the Guardian of Liyue himself at that, you tried to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. For you, that meant spending ever second of your free time in or around Wangshu Inn, sometimes even spending the night there despite having your own living place.

Xiao appreciated this gesture of yours. You knew that he liked the Inn as his place of operation, and you didn't want to force him into spending time at your place, when he would only be anxious the entire time. So it was a compromise you were willing to make.

Today was a nice summer day. You were dressed in soft clothing, allowing the occaisonal gust of wind to cool your skin down as you were standing on the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn, observing the scenery before you. Xiao was currently out somewhere, so you had decided to wait for him here.

While you were observing, leaning your body against the railing, you suddenly felt the presence of someone behind you. Before you could turn around, a pair of arms came around from behind you, encircling your body as his hands found purchase on the railing, next to yours.

You immediately recognized him, a smile spreading as you felt his body leaning against yours, his soft lips pressing against your exposed shoulder.

"You should be more careful. I wouldn't want you to lean to far over and falling to your death.", he mumbled, staying close to you, searching for the physical contact.

You loved how openly he showed his love and affection to you when it was just the two of you, no one else around to witness this soft moment of his. "I'm sure you'd catch me before anything could happen to me.", you reply, intertwining your hand with his.

"And you'd be absolutely right."

You smile but don't say anything more as you stay with him like this, enjoying the way his body feels against yours. If only this moment could last forever...

But alas, it didn't last nearly as long as you'd want it to. Soon enough, you could hear some shouting from below, coming from the reception. You heard the Boss Lady, Verr, call after someone. "Sir, please! You can't just barge up there!"

But whoever that man was, he just ignored her as both you and Xiao could hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. With one last look at each other, you break apart to an appropriate distance, figuring that whoever this was was probably here to seek the help of the Adeptus.

However, as the man arrived at the top balcony, your breath got caught in your throat as you recognized the man standing in front of you.

His eyes found yours, and you saw a glimpse of something wash over his face that you couldn't quite name. Xiao also noticed this, choosing to remain silent for now, but closely watching both of you. He may not know who this man was, but it was obvious to him that you recognized him.

"Dad?", you then asked, still hoping that this was just some bad dream you'd wake up from any second now.

"(Name)! I finally found you! You weren't at home, so I've been searching everywhere for you."

The man, your father, made a step towards you, but as soon as he did, you also took a step back. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Xiao. You were clearly uncomfortable with your father being here, so he was preparing to step in the second things threatened to go out of control.

"What do you want?", you ask him, not wanting to spend any more time in this mans presence than you absolutely have to.

"What, a father can't visit his child?", he asked, letting out a chuckle, but everyone present could tell how fake it sounded.

"Just tell me what you want already."

Your father threw you a glare, but relented nonetheless. "Fine then. Your mother and I were hoping for a bit of financial aid from you. Your sister wants to study at the Academiya of Sumeru, but we lack the money to help her with that. We heard that you were doing pretty good for yourself, so, naturally, you'd help out your family a bit. Right?"

The last word sounded almost threatening, like refusing would cause you serious consequences. You knew that tone in your fathers voice all too well, having been "disciplined" by him most of your life if you ever dared refuse him.

This entire situation was almost laughable to you. You haven't had contact with either your parents or your sister in years, since you finally left their home for good. And now, after years of silence, they suddenly remember you, only to come crawling and begging for money. Which they plan to spend on your sister.

As it always was. It's always been her over you.

"..No.", you say after a few seconds of silence. Hearing your answer, your fathers forced smile drops and he stares at you, like he couldn't believe the word that just left your mouth.

"What did you say?", he asked, his voice ice cold and you flinched a bit, hiding a bit behind Xiao as you were still scared of this man, but you refused to subject yourself to him again.

"I said No. I'm not giving you any money."

Your response was hanging in the air for a bit, when suddenly, anger started to show on your fathers face and he then began lunging towards you, one arm raised as if to slap you.

"You ungrateful, little-!", he yelled and was about to take a swing at you, when suddenly, within the blink of an eye, he was laying on the floor, face pushed onto the ground, with Xiao standing over him, restraining your fathers hands.

"You will not put your hands on them. I won't allow it."

Your father was cursing and screaming, trying to escape the hold Xiao had him in. But the more he struggled, the more force Xiao put into holding him down, which only worsened the curses thrown at the both of you.

Witnessing this, the reality of what would have happened to you if Xiao wasn't there with you sank in, and you felt your knees giving out, sinking to the floor as tears subconsciously began to run down your cheeks.

Noticing this, Xiao quickly reassed the situation as he leaned down to your father. "Leave. And don't you dare ever come back. If I see or hear you bothering them ever again, I won't be so mercyful next time."

Then, he let go of your father and rushed to your side, checking in on you. Your father cursed some more as he finally got to his feet again and quickly left the scene, and hopefully, your life as well.

You on the other hand, were a mess right now. Tears running down, you were sobbing as you held onto Xiao like your life depended on him. He let it happen, soothingly running a hand along your back as he just held you, letting you cry it all out.

After you've calmed down again, he just has to talk about what just happened. "I take it this happened more than once to you?", he asked softly, referencing the moment your father tried to lay hands on you.

You couldn't say the words, so you just nodded as a response. Xiao felt anger rising in his chest, but he held it under control focusing on you, since you needed him right now.

"What else has he done to you?"

And so, with shaky breath and lots of pauses in between, you tell him about all the abuse and the clear favouritism of your sister you've been going through your entire childhood, up until the day you ran away from them for good.

Xiao was in shock that parents could do such a thing to their own child. And even if he wanted to go out and make them pay for their actions, there's nothing he could do. He was bound by a contract to protect the people of Liyue. He couldn't harm them. But he could protect you..

So, he takes you in his arms again, holding you close to him as he softly speaks into your ear. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened to you. From now on, you won't have to worry about them any longer. I'll protect you. From them and any other harm that tries to make their way to you."

And you knew that he meant every word he said. You knew that you could trust Xiao with everything, most importantly your life, and he'd guard it as his most treasured possession. With him by your side, you finally felt safe for the first time in your life...

Tighnari

Working as a Forest Ranger has always been a lifelong dream of yours. Doing so with the love of your life by your side was that dream actually coming true to you. Sometimes, you just stare at Tighnari, wondering what you did to get so lucky to have him as your partner. How you deserved him in the first place.

He always laughed a bit and softly reprimanded you, but he never did so with ill intent. When he did that, you could always see the genuine love he held for you in his eyes, clear as day.

When it came to your relationship, everything happened a bit slowly, as per Tighnari's request. Since his species only has one partner their entire life, he wants to make extra sure that this will work out.

You take your time with going on several dates, where he explains to you the basics of his kind, what to do and what not to do, with him and others of his kind. But nothing he told you ever scared you away from him. If anything, it made you fall for him even more.

Then came the day when he wanted you to meet his parents, before you were making things official with him. You were nervous to meet them, but luckily, his parents instantly took a liking to you, especially his mom. She was over the top with her sons choice in a partner and the both of them gave you two their blessings.

The day after, you finally made things official, telling everyone of your friends that you were dating, and everyone was congratulating you. Word also spread among the other Forest Rangers, and soon enough, you were also bombarded with congratulations from them, as well.

Life was going good, but there was one thing that Tighnari was still thinking about.

You've met his parents, but he's never once met yours. Matter of fact, you don't even talk about them all that much. He's asked you one or two questions about them, but he soon came to the conclusion that this wasn't a topic you were too fond to speak about.

He did ask you why that was, but when you only gave him vage answers and excuses, he dropped the topic, figuring that it wasn't too important anyways. The main issue was your relationship, not some outside opinion. He thought that you'd come around and tell him more once you felt ready to do so.

Unbeknownst to him, that day would arrive much sooner than he anticipated.

One day, as Tighnari was about to head out for one of his patrols, he noticed you standing at the entrance to Gandharva Ville that led to Sumeru City, talking to two figures he didn't recognize. He thought for a second before he decided to head over to see what was going on.

As he got closer, he began to pick up on some signs of distress coming from you, which already set him a bit off edge. Then, he picked up on the voices and realised that you were arguing with those two individuals. He didn't know what it was about, but that wasn't important.

".. you understand, (Name)? We only want the best for you, so-!"

"Excuse me. Is everything alright over here?", Tighnari interrupted the conversation, and as you turned around to him, he couldn't help but notice the relieved look on your face. He gave you a sympathetic look before turning back to the other two visitors, who looked upset at being interrupted so rudely.

"And who are you?", asked the man, while the woman nodded along with him. Before Tighnari could say anything, you were already at it.

"This is Tighnari, Leader of the Forest Rangers, and my boyfriend. Tighnari, those are my parents.", you said as you vaguely gestured with your hand between them.

Tighnari's eyes widened as he heard you introduce them. He cleared his throat before extending a hand to your parents. "It's nice to finally meet you."

However, instead of taking his hand, your father simply ignored him, while your mother looked at him for a second, before scoffing and focusing back on you. "Seriously, (Name)? You got involved with someone like him? You could do so much better for yourself.", your mother said, looking at Tighnari with disgust, specifically at his more animalistic features.

"..Excuse me?", Tighnari asked again, retracting his hand. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. When he looked back to you, he saw you gritting your teeth, yet when you spoke again, he heard the strain in your voice as you tried to remain polite with your parents.

"Like I already said, I'm happy with my life here. I'm happy with Tighnari. Nothing you do or say can change my mind about it."

"Quit being stupid already, (Name)! Now that your sister isn't taking over the family business anymore, we need you to come back and take over. We also found a suitable marriage candidate for you. If you would just-!"

"I said No!", you interrupted them again, this time however, all the politeness has left your tone.

"I know you only never bothered me about coming back till now, because you were betting on my sister to take over. You'd never force her to do the things you want her to do, but doing it to me is fine for you?

I'm done with that. I have my life here, doing what I always wanted to do, with the love of my life with me." To undermine your words, you stand next to Tighnari and take his hand in yours. The action fills him with pride, as well as the fact that you're standing up for him to your parents.

"So, you can either accept that fact, support me and still be a part of my life. Or, you can leave, and never bother any of us again."

You finish your little speech, your mother gasping at your words, but your father quickly takes her and ushers her away, leading them back to the city.

As the two walked away, you let out a deep breath, relief washing over you as they walked away. You were still holding onto Tighnari's hand when he spoke up again. "I take it that was why you didn't want me to meet them, am I right?"

"I'm so sorry about that. I know I should have told you, but I never wanted you to have to go through that. I already don't have a very good relationship with them, and I didn't want it to affect you, as well."

Hearing that, Tighnari smiled as he turned towards you to take you in his arms. "Thank you", he whispered into yours ear.

You nodded against him. You'd always stand up to your parents again, without another thought, if it meant you were doing it for him...

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