#ignore how mentally ill I was as a child

[regretisstoredintheme]

HI OMG!!! IT'S YOU I'VE BEEN TRYING TO FIND YOU AGAIN HIIII!!! You are so awesome I'm so happy you exist please continue existing argahhrhs I remember sending an ask a long time ago and you replying so nicely and making me happy and I have not forgotten about you since (I forgot ur username but also I forget my own birthday so like/lh) rahrah I hope that's not weird m sorry if it is I uhhh

Neeways for the asks thing!! If if you're still taking (idk when u reblogged it I didn't see)

what made you start your blog?

tell a story about your childhood

what’s some good advice you want to share?

Pls have the greatest day and have a very good year this year (im manifesting it this is a threat/silly)

AAAAAAA YOU FOUND ME!!!! WELCOME BACK MY CHILD COME HERE!!!

Thank YOU for existing 😭😭 I’m literally nothing w/o you guys I love you so much — which ask we’re you if you don’t mind me asking??? :0 I don’t remember a lot of my works BFJBSJS

anyways! Answer time!

what made you start your blog?

I started it because I had been talking to a mutual on another account I believe? In any case @tmntxthings is a huge reason why I had the guts to post my stuff :(( ❤️❤️ they were a huge support and even gave me ideas for my first post: Leo x ShyFelineReader. They are AWESOME and you should check em out >:)

share a childhood story!

Ooo boy… which one should I pick? Alright. I don’t remember a lot from my childhood, but this one’s pretty funny in hindsight.

in 5th grade, I was definitely the “everyone needs to act their age” kid.. it wasn’t cute but anyway— one day when I was playing on the playground I noticed a little spider in the wood chips. I bent to look at it and a few girls surrounded me to see what I was looking at. They freaked out upon seeing the spider but I insisted I just wanted to help it and attempted to scoop it up.

just then, a shoe comes out of nowhere and steps on the spider (and, effectively, my fingers.)

now I have a huge respect for life, so my teachers pet looking ass stood up and shoved this girl. Not like pushed — like SHOVED. “That’s an innocent creature! This is his home! It WAS at least— how would you have liked it? How would you like it if I squashed you and left you to die!?” Looking back I was intense asf as a little 12 y/o but eventually I ran off after scaring the shit out of this girl.

I… ended up apologizing once my favorite teacher’s aid had us talk to each other but STILL BADASS FOR A TEACHERS PET WHO DIDNT GET IN TROUBLE FOR ANYTHING!

what’s some good advice you’d like to share?

honestly? For someone who’s just starting out as a writer, especially a fanfic writer, here’s what I got.

Write your favorites. Nothing quite like writing what you want to give you motivation. Have an idea? Go! Do it right now! Write the dumbest version! Build the skeleton that will build your life. It’s worth getting over the hurdle of just… starting.

Don’t do requests you don’t want to. take this with a grain of salt, but you’re never going to please everyone. It can be great to get out of your comfort zone and try new things with new characters, but if you’re just starting out? Stick to the ones that make you excited, the ones that make you think “that’s such a good idea!” Or “I know just the setting for that!” And take the idea and run with it!! Most tumblr users don’t even expect their ask to be answered.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

i want nothing more than to be a mother, but at the same time, i know that i’m really just a clone of my mother, who was a clone of her mother, who was a clone of her mother, who was a clone of her mother.

[philsmeatylegss]

Me: I like to spread awareness about glass children, aka siblings of disabled, chronically ill, or displays consistent behavior that causes parents to give a disproportionate amount of attention to the non disabled sibling compared to the disabled. Depending on the disorder, young children who are glass children take on both physical and emotional responsibilities reserved for adults. And the problem becomes a million times worse if one or both parents are mentally ill. Glass children have a hard time when feeling unheard as that was a constant throughout our childhood; our needs and wants were never prioritized. It can lead to pretty severe mental health issues, the most prominent being very low self esteem and feeling your worth is entirely dependent on what others think. You fail to develop a personality. Usually pretty severe anxiety will occur. Because of the treatment, as adults, a glass child probably needs as much attention as their sibling got as kids. It is a topic I don't see discussed a lot because everyone tends to forget the non-disabled sibling when seeing a disabled child. And we often are forced to not voice any grievances out of fear of being called ungrateful or a brat. It can really mess someone up and is something that needs to be talked about more.

The fucking internet:

Me: I didn't even say that...?

[running-in-the-dark]

I could've been insane in an interesting way at least but noo, I just think about a stupid guy so much that I lose my mind, how fucking stupid is that

[jonbinary-archive]

i feel like, secondary to that idea of being forced to see articles about how to 'deal with you', it's so hard to find resources to heal from trauma or w/e as someone with a personality disorder/low empathy/cluster b disorder/etc just because all of the books and articles are constantly framing the perpetrators as someone like you. sure, even if they mention that there's "good" people with these disorders (which rarely happens), it still sucks having to wade through chapter after chapter calling every little thing narcissistic and equating it with evil.

[astronomalyy]

Thinking about the lifespans of Dungeon Meshi elves... The fact that they're completely unnatural alters my brain chemistry, because you can tell just how haphazardly the demon implemented their wish. They live five times the length of tall-men, so they age at a fifth of their rate. It's simple maths and the implications are terrifying. No wonder their birth rate and population are declining - their early development is so slow that at the age of two, they're still unable to stand.

They don't reach adulthood until their eighties. What does the infant mortality look like? How many elves succumb to illness or injury before they're fully mature? It only takes one accident to lose the child you've been raising for decades - and could you bring yourself to care for another? Add to that the implication elf culture has no idea how to process grief... just look at the way the Canaries treat Rin after the death of her parents. They're callous and insensitive and detached - part of that's racism, but there's also an element of pure cold ignorance. They don't even recognise the emotion on her face.

And that's just scratching the surface... does elven memory accommodate their extended lifespan? Once you reach two hundred or so, do the years start blurring together? Kabru mentions that their temporal awareness is remarkably poor.

Two years feel like a few months. Their lives are longer but not fuller. They're older but not wiser than the short-lived races, and most refuse to understand this. Those that do grasp it are interesting - namely Otta, who's ostracised for pursuing half-foot women.

A 30-year old elf is a young child; a 30-year old half-foot has entered middle age. Otta is in the equivalent of her late twenties. She knows that her elven lifespan makes her no more mature than a half-foot - but she also acknowledges that it creates a rift between herself and her partners, and not just in the eyes of society. 'She dumps them as soon as they pass 30', but probably not for the reasons Lycion assumes. For this to be a pattern, decades must have passed - it's possible Otta doesn't want to watch them die as she herself barely ages. No doubt some of her previous lovers have already passed away. In the end, all living 400 years accomplishes is leaving them out of sync with the rest of humanity.

Marcille's perhaps the best example. As a half-elf, she's got 95% of her life ahead and the thought terrifies her. She's going to lose everyone she loves, over and over and over again, and this cycle has barely even started. She runs at a different pace. This context adds so much to her dynamic with Falin in earlier chapters.

Marcille loves her! She's scared for her! Maybe even of her! She's grown attached to a short-lived girl who she met as a kid when Marcille was a teaching assistant! Biologically and developmentally, they're the same age, but chronologically she's twice as old as Falin! Considering what happened to her mother, is history repeating itself? Her feelings towards Falin are tangled and messy and fascinating. They're also more than a little homoerotic, which makes Marcille's infantilization of her friend all the more interesting. It feels like her way of resolving their power imbalance, of remaining a responsible (former!) authority figure... but it's also a coping mechanism. She's frightened by the ways Falin is maturing and changing - aging - and keeping her mental image of her friend as young as possible is her way of denying the march of time that's destined to sever their bond.

Marcille's dream of lifespan extension would remove the need for this obfuscation, render them equal... only, they already are! This desire is imposed onto Falin, but it's primarily for Marcille's benefit. Watching her fight for a world nobody wants, for reasons both selfish and altruistic... it's as tragic as it is understandable. I love this manga.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 023 ✦ ┆・

‼️[ TW: Terminal Illness, Angst to Fluff, Solo Leveling Spoilers ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 2 || Part 1 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ We'll Try This Again, Begin Again with Zero. But This Time? I'm Never Letting You Go. ] ¡! ❞

Living felt more like a punishment more than anything. The pain he goes through starts feeling more and more deserving in his eyes. He was pushing himself to the limits when he shouldn't, he's punishing himself over a sin that wasn't really his fault.

But if anyone tells him that, he wouldn't look back at them. He would ignore their concerns.

He has a duty to uphold anyway, a duty that only he can do as a monarch.

Jinwoo has ultimately grown to be a vessel of war thanks to the system.

He didn't really care much, he already placed insurance to his name if anything happens to him.

When he's gone, his remaining family would atleast live off of something.

He has already watched his father die too thanks to the godforsaken monarchs.

What more can he loose?

Over and over again, he puts himself in the battlefield, exhausting himself on purpose, never even sleeping nor eating.

He was just fighting like a dog.

Well, dog's get much more care than what he does to himself, so does it really count?

It doesn't matte,r Jinwoo physically cannot be exhausted.

But mentally? It's a different story.

He wasn't really depressed, at least, that's what he tells himself.

He really felt numb, not exactly sad, not exactly happy either. It's as if his emotions lie in the middle.

Jinwoo felt hollow, completely hollow.

As if he were merely nothing more than a puppet in war.

The only thing that really urges him to move forward is the distant sound of his beloved's voice in the back of his head.

And soon, after he had finally murdered the Monarch of Destruction— He would be granted a wish.

Battered and tired while on the floor, he thought of what he could possibly ask from the rulers.

Thought of?

No, Jinwoo already knew what he wanted.

It was to turn back time.

To meet old friends again, to stop the gates from opening, to have his family whole again

,... To meet you again.

Yes. That's right. All of this was for you anyway.

Jinwoo recalls that memory very clearly, how you were still in the hospital bed and you two were playing a game of cards while he tells you about how he plans to be a hunter soon.

Your words were quite cute really: "I hope Woowoo becomes a really strong man!"

Those silly, innocent words of yours.

Up to this day, he still smiles lovingly whenever he remembers that.

He became this strong not just for himself and his family who needs him, but for you, the brave little soul who endured that illness—

Jinwoo fought for you

And since he is given the opportunity to correct the past, he requiested for time to be rewinded.

Right then and there, a brilliant flash of white would engulf the earth, bathing it in all it's glory. eradicating all traces of the lifeforms and shadows there is to this pathetic universe. For once in a million years, the earth was beautiful again. It looked like a star gleaming along with countless others.

Soon, Jinwoo would wake up to the sound of his baby sister's calling. Jinwoo would sit up, gently smiling at her.

It took a while for everything to sink in, for everything for him to realize that this? All of this was reality.

How badly he wanted to find you in the time he spent, for just a few weeks, he enjoyed being a child again.

Laughing with friends, screaming at others for a vanguard or healer in the pc cafe— He wanted to find you in an instant. But not right now.

He took care of some stuff first.

Your illness wont awaken until then after all.

27 years, he spent time in that goddamn dimensional crack fighting monarchs and all that crap.

When he was done, he finally came home.

Just as he set foot back in earth again, he went straight to the hospital.

April 9th of spring, where the pink petals bloomed and flew around the air— This beautiful but tragic day.

Was the first time you had collapsed and coughed out blood.

It started with your lungs, to your kidneys, to your heart, to everywhere.

You had metastatic cancer.

Coughing up blood was only the start.

And Jinwoo had come home just in time.

He didn't even ask for directions, he just went straight to your hospital room.

He knew this godforsaken place better than the doctors and nurses himself after all.

As he pried open the door, there you were, resting on the bed staring absentmindedly at the pink trees outside your window. When yopu heard the sound of the door, you turned your attention to Jinwoo.

Dazzling and innocent eyes, just as he remembers. Your youthful face, free of any sign of wrinkles. Still chubby and plump that he wanted to just kiss your cheeks all over.

As you called out his name, Jinwoo marched over and embraced you tightly.

"I'm sorry, it took me a while" Jinwoo whispers ever so lovingly as he rubs the b ack of your head affectionately.

You were confused at first, wondering why your best friend is acting all cuddly and sappy when he totally did not disappear off of the face of the earth and come out of nowhere like some sort of boogey man. But regardless, you can't help but notice the traces of tears about to break from lovely grey eyes.

When you reached over to touch his face, his voice broke and he started crying almost instantly.

Panicked and confused, you pulled him to a tight hug.

Jinwoo was crying, and in his tears and broken voice you could hear the amount of anguish he had been bottling up, the brokenness in his heart finally being revealed in the open for you to hear and see. It felt as if Jinwoo was carrying a hundred years worth of burden. And you could do nothing more than to soothe him.

"I'm sorry... Ditching you out of nowhere and acting like a sappy pup wo got kicked" He chokes as he chuckles gently, "I promise, promise, that I won't leave you like that anymore. Just trust me, okay? Here, drink this."

He hands you a weird fantasy-potion thing with red liquid inside. You wanted to deny him of it but Jinwoo stubbornly insisted upon it, as if your life depended on it.

Well, tehnically speaking, it did depended on that potion.

After making sure you gulped down every single drop of the crimson liquid, Jinwoo pressed his forehead against yours.

Mumbling ever so sweetly; "Let's do this again, okay? You and me, goofing around. I'll let you eat as much sweets as you like, I'll show a lot of pretty things. Don't worry about anything else, Woowoo will take care of it."

Somehow, you felt that Jinwoo meant that on a deeper level. You felt like right now, what in front of you wasn't just anyone else, but someone ready to lay down their life for your sake. The person in front of you, you felt as if he was going to follow you to the ends of the earth to the stars above your heads. Somehow, it feels as if his words was a promise that he would follow you wherever you go.

He already lost you once, damned will he be if that happens again.

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[ripplestitchskein]

I find the general idea of Stolitz being “toxic” to be fucking hilarious. It’s thrown around so easily like it should be accepted that they fit this definition and….they really, really don’t lol. Like they have a pretty chill and common miscommunication and personal issues interfering with wants and desires conflict. Like I cannot stress how fucking chill it is. They don’t actively hurt one another intentionally, neither are trying to murder the other directly or indirectly, they are not on opposing sides of a larger external conflict save for inherent world class dynamics, they don’t manipulate each other or work against each other, etc. They say hurtful things and argue and are oblivious to the other’s issues but like, in a fairly normal neurodivergence and historical trauma driven way.

They do begin with a mutually agreed upon transactional sexual dynamic, which is often the crux of these “Stolitz is soooo toxic” arguments to the point the really intense anti’s cry SA. A transactional sexual dynamic Blitz was so okay with when it is no longer agreeable to the other party, and they communicate that and change the parameters in a way that gives him full autonomy, he spends half an episode trying to return to that dynamic. Much trauma. Very coerced. 🙄

There is a power imbalance but it only exists in the sense that one person is societally more powerful by nature of his birth and ignorant to it by nature of his upbringing. Stolas does not force Blitz into said transactional sex dynamic by exerting his power or influence so it’s largely irrelevant save for how it impacts Blitz’s personal self worth issues and it is never from a place of malicious intent. Which is what matters in media? Character intent and decisions are literally the crux of the narrative?? Stolas figures out it’s a problem for the type of relationship he really wants to have and corrects it and even goes above and beyond to ensure that Blitz will suffer no fall out from his choice if he decides to not pursue their romantic relationship further. Like, toxic WHOMST? Just, don’t talk to me about toxic until they get hot and bothered about how well the other tried to actively murder them. We have had zero poisonings or major betrayals in this ship and ya’ll throwing around toxic like words have no meaning.

“But he called Blitz his impish little plaything! He thinks of Blitz as a toy! As a sub-species!” Or maybe, just maaaaybe the sexually inexperienced character who is making shit up as he goes along based on his canonically identified incorrect perceptions of what the other wants/likes as well as ignorance of his own power and position thought he was just being sexy and cute? Just maybe? Like can we apply a smidgeon of deductive reasoning based on the sum rather than the parts? As a treat.

It just speaks to what I have observed as probable immaturity/lack of life experience driving a lot of the criticism or straight up vitriol regarding the show’s major conflicts. A very black and white application of moral purity that deems anything not rainbows and sunshine as toxic and where the ultimate goal is some nebulous and frankly hella ableist concept of “healthy”.

A similar thing plays out with regards to Octavia and the classification of Stolas as a “bad parent” because he is pursuing a relationship and has issues of his own to deal with on top of parenting. Heaven forbid a closeted gay man raised in isolation going through some late in life awakenings is not perfectly navigating an ill defined relationship and a divorce and raising a child on top of his myriad of mental health issues. What gets me the most is she’s not even a young child, she’s 17 possibly even 18 at this point in the timeline but the way people act he abandoned an infant at a flophouse to get his rocks off with someone who fears he will smite them down with his incredible Goetian might and if they refuse they’ll be living out of a gutter eating dirt because they wouldn’t perform sexually for him. Instead of the in-universe reality where the most egregious thing Stolas has done is fail to consider his daughters perspective and how this impacts her, made some inappropriate sexual comments really early on in front of her when he was still excited, and forgot, during a major life upheaval, a promise to watch a meteor shower he made to her like a decade ago. He didn’t even forget the promise itself, he just forgot what day it was. Like I forget shit I promised my kids last week much less when they were like 5.

Like there is such a huge disconnect between actual toxic behavior portrayals in media with regards to relationships and parenting, or hell toxic relationships and parents in real life, and what is going on in Helluva Boss. This is ignoring the fact that the actual universe of the show, which is what should be the metric when examining character dynamics not reality, has established real toxicity in both relationships and behavior, and has shown us time and time again how that toxicity contrasts with our characters and their relationships, be it Stolitz or Fizzmodeous or Moxxie/Millie or the parenting dynamics of Blitz & Loona and Stolas & Octavia. We have examples of toxic relationships, and we have examples of toxic parents in this world and we’ve been shown that the relationships of the main characters is in opposition to them.

But even if you were to take the, imo incorrect, position of applying real world considerations to fictional worlds it still doesn’t track as toxic.

Do you realize how many sexual transactions and power imbalances occur in relationships everyday as just a matter of course?

Like “I’ll wear that outfit you like if you do this for me?” Normal, Transactional. Accepted straight couple in a sitcom premise. I would wager “I’ll preform this sex act if you do X” is said in one way or another without anyone batting an eye a hundred times a day. And that’s ignoring the implication that transactional sex is inherently problematic. It isn’t, it’s the coercive aspect that is an issue and even then we get real handwavey about it in reality when the situation isn’t explicitly coercive.

“I’m a police officer/government agent/politician/media influencer/sole household income earner that has the ability to fuck up your entire life/reputation/financial stability just by nature of my job and how well we are getting along” is perfectly fine and normal. No one would suggest that a police office or government agent can only be involved with someone of equal systemic or social power in reality. Do my partner and I have a toxic power imbalance because I am the sole working person in our household and they are a stay at home parent and I hold all the financial power? No, that’s fucking silly.

Not to be all “sweet summer children I grew up in the trenches of toxic” about it but it’s the most baffling part of this fandom that a pretty low key conflict and relationship dynamic, where neither party is actively trying to hurt the other and has approached the entire thing from a place of earnest confusion and ignorance and is working through it in a pretty normal way is classified as “toxic”. Get back to me when they are poisoning each other, have killed several of each other’s loved ones and there is necromancy involved.

[captainmera]

My God I love your depiction of the Wittebane brother ❤️

Do you think there might have been a chance that your Pip wouldn't kill his brother when Calec goes to Demon Realm? He seems way more tolerable of weirdness and is actually curious about the taboo things. That it makes me wonder if other steps were taken by people around him, maybe he would make different choices and not turned into a brother-killing genocide goop man. Obviously, the blame is still his for what he did, but I can't stop wondering what if.

And him getting along with Evelyn instead of hating her right of the bat is really cute.

Thank you! :D <333

He grew up with this theatrical bisexual of a brother. Pretty sure the reason Belos didn't give a hoot on the Boiling Isles about queer stuff is because he kinda knew, and accepted, that Caleb was kinda queer. In some cases, people can ignore or bend certain rules for people they love. Even disregard them or pretend they don't apply or exist.

(long rant about writing and narrative foils and blah blah under the cut)

Unlike Caleb, I think Philip is the sort that only picks-and-chooses whatever rules he feels will supports his personal wants/thoughts and tosses the rest.

Caleb was not hiding it as well as he thought he did. lol.

I think that, sure, there was probably a turning point for Philip.

And absolutely, people around him influenced him. He's just a kid, a vulnerable one at that, in a protestant Christian cult.

I kinda like to think of it as a corruption arc. Mostly because it seems (to me) that the whole reason Luz was meant to have a depression-arc and Philip getting all "YoUrE JuSt LiKe Me!" thing was because.. There was supposed, I think, to be similar beginnings for them.

But Luz, in season 3, got depressed and felt a lot of guilt, so her arc is going from this happy-go-lucky kid interested in different things, to a depression arc where she questions herself. While Philip has a corruption arc, where he gradually goes from a well-meaning kid interested in different things, to evil and delusional.

I am also combining Luz, King, and the Collector into Kid-Philip's themes.

King is fascinating as a pre-narrative foil for kid-Philip. I think. As King was very clingy to Luz and didn't want her to leave, he too had a delusion about his own importance (disregard that it was kinda true in the end there). King tried to dictate (in that book episode) about what his and Luz' book should be about, how it should go, and it really hurt Luz' feelings. In the end, they solved it. But as a narrative foil, I think for the Wittebanes, they probably had a similar struggle on a larger scale, and it didn't get resolved.

The Collector, too! They're desperate to be close with someone, anyone, who gets them and wants to play on their terms. Kinda like Belos wanting him and Caleb to be witch hunters. Not accounting that Caleb is his own person outside of him-- Which, if you think about it, Caleb made his whole life (in my version anyway) about taking care of Philip. So I'm sure Philip felt like he really was Caleb's entire world. And then suddenly he wasn't. Because of a witch. The Collector, despite having this incredible power (just like Pip having his brilliant brain) is still a child and using their power in selfish ways. Not intentionally, I think, just out of a fear of abandonment or isolation.

I personally am in favour of nobody-is-born-evil-but-anyone-can-become-evil kinda thing.

I would like to explore how Philip gets corrupted.

I am slowly influencing Philip in my fanfic with little things that will, eventually, boil down to not so great moments.

The thing about delusions is that the person truly believes in it. Philip believing he's a hero has to make sense and feel believable.

Belos is a jerk. Philip isn't, yet. He becomes that jerk. But I don't want to write a sociopath. I also don't like using less-favourable mental illnesses as an "easy way out" to write why Philip became Belos and a genocidal maniac.

I have strong feelings about de-stigmatizing mental illnesses in writing, without romanticizing them or leaving out the really awful and less discussed sides of it. This includes diagnoses within all the clusters of the DSM5. I will not sit here and say I only support a diagnosis like Autism or GAD, and not things like Histrionic or Borderline.

And including people with MH issues and personality disorders is important, too, as well as not trying to downplay them.

People throw around Belos with things like Narcissism and Psychopath, without actually understanding what those means or what the different types there are. For example, is he a grandiose, oblivious or a fragile narcissist?

Yes, these disorders are looked down upon. A lot of people who have them aren't very nice people. But that doesn't mean they're evil or have no heart.

Lots of children can display early signs of these, and in a rough time like the colonial 1630s of America, it is not unthinkable that those rough times bred some dysfunctional people. I'm sure Philip has his own slices of pie as far as mental health goes, just like Caleb and many other struggling people.

But, I will not write from an angle that implies Philip just has darkness from the start in him.

There's a reason why I had Caleb go on a rant about being born evil in chapter 5. Because puritans, and Christians alike, at the time - truly did believe bastards were just... Half people. Did you know that if an orphanage found out a baby was a bastard, they wouldn't let it suckle the nursery goat's udders. Because they were afraid it would soil the milk and, in turn, might give the non-bastard babies bad influence. Somehow.

With that kind of logic in your culture, it's no rocket science that people would put nonsense together and think it made sense.

I'm much more interested in how puritanism and witch hunting culture influenced and corrupted Philip into becoming who he became, and why he refuses to budge on his beliefs to the point of murder.

As the owl house, the show, has commentary on systems influencing cultures in a bad and positive way. But in particular, the one Belos tries to influence the Demon Realm with; being a not-so-great way. So! With that as a clue: what made Philip turn bad, most likely, was partially the puritanism and its extremist ways. I think TOH is also a bit of a nudge at the HAYS-code of Hollywood and how it has trickled into most all the American culture-core. As it's both trickled into schools, morality, politics and other things outside cinema.

Just pointing at him and going "He's a sociopath because he became a genocidal tyrant" is, to me, cheap. Not only does it further stigmatising mental illnesses by implying only a disorder can make someone do such evil things. But it also disregards the most horrific truth of all; that the true monsters are people not at all unlike yourself. And that they, too, were children once.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hello :)

Could you please do and platonic Aizawa x daughter reader?

His daughter is in her teen years so she is being like really rebel and all that so they fought a lot, but one day she just breaksdown during one fight and starts crying and apologizing for being a shitty daughter?

I have been avoiding this for so long, and it's all because I have no idea how aizawa would handle something like this. because it goes against everything that Aizawa would try and teach his kid so this may be a little forcefully written, apologies.

TW : unhealthy parenting, mental illness, some suicidal thoughts, probably angsty shit, I dunno, read at your own risk.

We can start this by walking through how this may start in the first place. I think the best place to start is that reader's mom left her and Aizawa when she was very young, and Aizawa, assuming here he didn't understand how to properly tell her why her mother left her, never tells her why.

Now reader is very young so she might blame one of two things.

herself

her father

While both instances would technically work, I think the more favorable option is she blames herself since a young child would probably never blame an adult they look up to and hold dear as the problem.

Up to this point her father has been really kind to her so the only other variable is her, this spirals into social anxiety, low self esteem, and depression. all of which don't help when you have an absent mother and a neglectful father who is both a teacher and a full time hero, which leaves little to no room for children.

(this is also why I think it isn't realistic for Aizawa to keep Eri or a child without another non-hero caretaker. Fight me, I dare you.)

As time goes on, and this child becomes a teenager, she might not know how to properly express her feeling and after being misguided by factors like the internet, other adults, and "friends" she might take out the feeling of being abandoned on her closest caretaker and another source of her problems; Aizawa.

if you purposely yell at him or start arguments it's not going to be very fun because Aizawa has this complex where if his students or other heros represent incompetence or arrogance he expels them or ignores him rather than explaining it to them and helping them improve, this is especially with students.

and since he lacks a true connection with you as his daughter mainly because of his job(s) and past with Oboro which he is still trying to heal from keeping him from bonding with you, he'll treat you as a student like the rest of the teenagers he knows. and even then, you may actually be treated worse than his students because while he interacts with them daily, he interacts with maybe 1 hour every other day.

so from all that he simply ignores you, just stops interacting with you entirely, he's too tired for your bullshit. this action makes the wedge between you two even worse.

if you keep persisting though he will yell back but it's often really short and really loud. something like "SHUT UP" a cold "I don't care." before slamming the door in your face. He knows it's probably not right to do that to your daughter but let's face it. you're just this annoying teenager he legally has to live with if he doesn't want to lose his hero and teaching license.

this is where things actually get very interesting, because let's assume he stops approaching you entirely, you just live in the same house nothing more than that, and while you may act like you hate your father for ruining your family and neglecting you all your life on the outside, remember, you're still that little kid in second grade that blames yourself for your mother leaving and your father not caring for you.

so let's say you realize this and go back to blaming yourself for everything like you did when you where a kid but since your father stopped talking to you entirely explaining your faults to him maybe difficult.

this where my personal experiences come in, I've actually had this happen to me in my own life, and I truely hope that you'll enjoy it. thank you.

---------

why is it that the voices are the loudest in the dead of night?

the moon is gone, the birds are silent, there isn't a single light that shines on your tear streaked face, puffly, swollen, sad, just sad.

years of confusion, neglect, a lack of love in it's purest form.

all because of you.

it's all because of you.

it's sings so prettily, like it's a church choir spreading the word of the lord like it's common knowledge.

it's common knowledge that you are a terrible person!

it cackles.

the urge to strangle yourself to finally feel some relief has never been stronger.

lie awake in the dead of night, in pitch darkness, a proper scenery to match ones broken and cracked soul, be careful, you might hurt yourself, again.

however, one cannot weep in their wallows forever.

the night has to make way for the morning sun.

and a relaxed self pity has to make way to dread.

dread.

dread of him, he who you blame for everything, everything you know is your fault.

it's all your fault.

a click at the door,

the creak of the old wood and the hinges never oiled.

mild thumping footsteps that wander around the apartment that can barely hold your overflowing buckets of tears.

you can mumble out all your pleas.

pleas that this is all a terrible nightmare and your real life is actually one with a kind and loving mother and a supportive and encouraging father.

mumble out the little lies that you made up all these years to make yourself feel worse and other better.

"it's pointless to keep trying."

"I wish I wasn't here."

"why can't I just be happy?"

"it's all my fault,

it's all my fault,

it's all my fault."

the thin walls don't do those in mourning justice though.

for the wind is calm, the branches don't dare to move, the owls, the bats, the sleeping heros in training downstairs don't make a peep.

for the only ones alive, awake, aware, is a man beaten down and broken by society serving as it's protector, ignoring the one in most need of protection all this time. With him is a girl. a girl that's scared, scared of her mirror image that haunts her, a girl who's cried an ocean, screamed a thousand wails of pain, a girl lost in her own heart,

"No wonder no one loves you."

you lie again.

but keen ears trained from years of work with villains hears you, for the first time, he hears you.

not the rebellious teen he's seen yell out strings of pure hatred and fiery insults like he's her own worst enemy.

it's the girl who he saw waiting on the steps to their apartment all those years ago. waiting for her mama to come back home with the promise of cupcakes.

it's the girl who never smiled for the remainder of elementary school.

it's the girl who's heart withered way that autumn evening.

he heard the softest little voice in the dead of night. he heard his daughter cry

"No wonder no one loves you."

.

.

.

"But I love you."

for that whole night, for that whole night.

the peace was disturbed.

for that whole night, it seemed that the moon shone once again.

it may not be the sun. but it'll do for now.

Aizawa walked away shortly after that.

leaving a little girls and her mirror image to ponder.

ponder.

---------

Afterwards I don't think he'd talk about it too much, he's proabably approach you after breakfast the next morning and tell you "you can talk to him about it if you want." but not much more than that

he definitely would change his practices though. like getting you a therapist, taking the weekends off in favor of being around the house more.

he'll let you get used to his presence first like one would with a cat, and one day. maybe years later, or tomorrow, you'll talk to him.

you'll tell him you love him too.

and maybe.

just maybe.

the world will stop,

and everything will be okay.

[nav-i-nav]

Actually, while we are at it, can we talk about how awful a lot of the fanbase treats Basil? My man can’t catch a break because almost everyone misinterprets him one way or another.

Where do I even start? Literally everything he does is taken the wrong way. There’s the people who characterize him as an obsessive yandere who only cares about Sunny and did everything in his power to isolate him. On the other hand, we have people who just remove one of the basic core aspects of him as a whole and make him an empty husk with no real personality.

Headacanon him however you want, but also try to understand him? I don’t know how people can say he only cares about Sunny when it’s clear he deeply appreciates his friends. He has a stronger bond with Sunny, but that doesn’t mean he’s a possessive and obsessed person who is toxic.

He definitely fucked up along the way, but his actions were never intended to hurt Sunny intentionally. He was in a panic and all he wanted was to keep his best friend safe. People constantly treat him as he’s a disgusting person for simple fact he shows mental illness signs, which is incredibly disheartening because there IS people in real life who act this way and can’t help it! What a relief it is to know people will treat me or my friends like this if we dare show an ounce of distress or panic!

Being mentally ill does not justify your actions, but this also doesn’t mean you are allowed to treat people who suffer from them like scum. People like Basil deserve to get help, to have people who support them so they can start healing. Basil clearly didn’t have that support, the only person that was there for him being his bedridden grandmother who he eventually lost.

And on the other hand, we have people who just choose to get rid of Basil’s personality altogether and characterise him as this character who is all suffering and trauma based off things that are NOT canon. It’s true that Basil’s life doesn’t exactly fit a “normal” childhood (having to live with his grandmother for unknown reasons) but that doesn’t immediately mean he is beyond traumatized? Basil is a little shy, sure, but a lot of people are. Basil used to be a smart and lively kid who loved his friends dearly. It wasn’t until AFTER the incident that he spiralled to the point he is where we see him in game.

People either disregard his trauma and paint him as a villain (let’s make one thing clear, there are NO villains in OMORI), or try to give him even more trauma for no apparent reason. All we know is that his parents aren’t really present in his life, and while that may bring some issues, from what we can see in cutscenes and the photo album, Basil lived a comfortable life surrounded by a loving family member and friends who cared about him.

You are free to explore Basil’s character however you like, but there’s a point where it no longer feels like Basil.

There is nothing wrong with showing his gentle side, just as how there’s nothing wrong to explore his unhealthy behaviour. But focusing on only one of the aspects of his entire self just turns him into a one-dimensional character with no redeemable qualities.

In my opinion, Basil is one of the best examples of a person struggling with mentally illness in media, yet people choose to ignore the complexity of his character to have either a selfish and dangerous yandere or a cute and shy femboy who’s only there to look pretty.

Write him like the mess he is. He is unstable. He is resentful, he is paranoid. That’s what makes Basil’s character so loved. That’s what makes him feel so relatable and human. Ignoring one side of his self takes away all of that. OMORI is a game about acceptance and forgiving. Why shouldn’t we apply those terms to their characters? It’s rather hypocritical for the fanbase to treat Sunny as a poor boy who only did what he did due to stress and trauma and then mark Basil as a psychopath with no redeemable features as if he wasn’t also a scared child who witnessed his very best friend push his sister down the stairs.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiii could you maybe do Donna Beneviento with a single mother! fem! reader who is Donnas only maid, Donna lets your son (toddler) live in the manor because she knows that theres no one else to take care of him and shes quite fond of him, letting him play in her workshop while she works, she even makes toys and clothes for him. Donna is obviously in love with reader but she isnt sure if reader fells the same way until your son blabbs about how much you like Donna, which gives to confidence to confess to you. Feel free to ignore this request if you dont like it :]

Yess!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

A better future

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid, Single mother! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 5,803

Summary: You have to be her maid, you have to take care of your son...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I won't be at home this weekend, but you can send your requests anyway, I'm waiting them!!! I love you all!!! :))

Nervously, you sat down in a chair.

You didn't expect to have to look for a job so desperately, but the storm that had destroyed your humble cabin forced you to do whatever it took to survive.

You could have rebuilt it, been cold for a while and then moved on with your life but… It wasn't you that mattered.

6 years ago you had made the biggest mistake of your life, falling in love with a foolish farmer. It could have been a real mistake, something you regretted at night, for which you cried at every corner, but the result of that brief romance made you see that maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

You had given birth to your son, Viktor, in absolute solitude. The farmer didn’t want to take responsibility and as if fate had made him pay for his disinterest, he was soon devoured by the Lycans. It was better this way. It took you a while to realize but... He wasn't a good person and he never was.

Maybe love blinded you. Maybe that romance never had to exist. But, looking into your little son's eyes made you rethink many things. Single mother, yes, but you would be the best mother in the world, for sure.

With a child in your care, no family, and your house practically destroyed, you had no choice but to look for an alternative, to find a way to support the child, to make him happy.

After the loss of your home, you wandered around the village looking for a kind soul, someone who would offer you a job and shelter from the cold. There weren't many options and asking Mother Miranda for help wasn't something you wanted to do. Maybe it was a trial from the Black Gods.

But there was an option, one that could provide you with work, and shelter. You would be a maid.

You had many friends who worked at the castle but you really didn't want to go there, not after hearing the things that were happening in there. After desperately searching for an alternative, the village merchant, the Duke, acted as a miracle worker, offering you a slightly different job and, according to him, a unique opportunity.

Apparently one of the village Lords, Donna Beneviento, needed a maid, someone to take care of the mansion. At first you refused, since you knew well what that mourning woman could do if she got angry. It wasn't the best place for your son, next to a mentally ill woman and her evil doll.

But time passed and your son shivered from the cold every night. The sight of his small body suffering the consequences of the cold was more than enough for you to take a deep breath and walk towards the old estate in search of a chance to have a better life.

And there you were, sitting in front of that woman with your son in your arms. The silence was heavy, tense, and her hidden face made you shiver.

“The, the Duke said you needed a maid,” you murmured, being the only voice heard in that house. The lady held her gaze and nodded slowly.

“Do you have experience as a maid?” A soft, hoarse voice asked, one that came out of her black veil.

You held your son tighter in your arms, wondering if it was really a good idea to be in that place. Poor Viktor was scared, taking refuge on your shoulder. It was probably because of the puppet resting on the lady's lap. It even gave you chills.

“Well, no, my lady, but I really want this job,” you murmured, embarrassed by your lack of experience.

“Your voice sounds desperate,” the lady in black sighed, with that same stoic pose, barely moving from that chair, proving she was not a ghost with her soft breathing.

“No, well, I...” You said, faking a smile and shifting in your chair. “Well, maybe,” you finally acknowledged, making that mourning figure nod again.

The puppet suddenly came to life and the woman crouched down, as if she were whispering something in its ear. Something you couldn't hear. The doll nodded and climbed out of her lap, comically running towards you and stopping next to your son, who shifted nervously and scared.

“Hello, I'm Angie, who are you?” The doll asked. Not to you, but to the child you were holding. He got even more scared, but you moved him so he was looking at the puppet.

“Answer her, honey,” you whispered, just as scared, but convinced that this was some kind of test. “Be kind.”

“My name is Viktor...” The boy murmured, his voice distorted due to the fist in his mouth.

“Well, Viktor...” Angie said, with her hands on her hips, barely paying attention to you. The lady in black didn't seem to want to take her eyes off you. “Do you want us to be friends?”

The answer to that question came in the form of a shaky shake of the head. You breathed heavily, not knowing how important that would be to getting the job.

“No? What a shame,” Angie said, with a squeaky voice. “I thought I would have someone to play with…”

“Play?” Your son asked. He couldn't resist that blackmail with an expectant look. The doll nodded, turning cockily.

“Yes, play. I'm the world's hide-and-seek champion, didn't you know? I thought a kid like you could beat me, but if you don't want to...” She said, feigning indifference.

“The world champion?” He asked curiously, losing that initial fear. After all, he was just a child.

“Yes. Tell me, do you think you could beat me?” The doll asked, with a challenging tone.

“Yes, I also play hide-and-seek with my mother,” the boy said, frowning and looking at you with a questioning face.

“Prove it, let's play,” Angie insisted, extending a wooden hand to your son.

You looked at the lady, who had remained completely silent, observing the conversation. With a nod of approval, she let you know that it was a good idea, although you were still not entirely convinced.

“Can I play, mom?” Viktor asked, tugging at the fabric of your dress. You hesitated, but seeing that there was nothing wrong, or so you wanted to think, you nodded, helping the boy down to the floor.

The two of them ran through the house and you watched them closely. You didn't trust her, you couldn't do it.

“It will be okay, (Y/N),” Lady Beneviento whispered, drawing your attention again, making you remember why you were there.

You nodded suspiciously, but sat up straight and looked at her again.

“Is he your son?” She asked, with an indifferent tone. You nodded slowly. “How old is he?”

“6 years old, my lady,” you responded kindly, to which the lady nodded again, turning her head towards the doll and the child, who seemed to be having fun.

“Where is his father?” The lady continued asking, making your stomach clench as you remembered that horrible farmer.

“He is not here anymore, and it's better this way,” you murmured, perhaps revealing much more information than you wanted. The mourning lady nodded slowly at that statement of yours, letting something resembling a sigh escape from her lips.

“I understand,” she whispered with an indifferent tone. “I suppose that if I hire you, your son will be included too, right?”

You didn't know how to respond instantly. Maybe a child running around the house wasn't exactly what this disturbed woman needed.

“I wouldn't ask you if I had another option, my lady. I have no family. There is no one who can take care of him. He only has me. If that is an impediment to work, I...”

“Shut up, I didn't say that,” she said, interrupting you abruptly, making you swallow nervously.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” you apologized, bowing your head.

“Do you think I would let a child go hungry or cold? Do you think I would be capable of something like that?”

“No, my lady,” you answered embarrassed.

Before the situation could become more tense, the Angie doll came running towards where you were, comically climbing over her owner and making a mocking gesture at your son, who protested by stamping his feet on the floor.

“That's cheating,” your son said, with an innocent tone.

“You can't catch me,” the doll crooned, hiding behind Lady Beneviento.

Your son never gave up easily, you knew that, and before you could stop him, the boy climbed up the sofa, reaching his small arm towards the doll, accidentally grabbing the black fabric of the lady's veil and removing it with a triumphant gasp. .

“Viktor!” You shouted, scared, quickly getting up from the chair and grabbing the wrist of your son, who had been petrified when he saw the deformed face of the lady in black, one that you had not paid much attention to. “Gods, excuse him, my lady, I beg you.”

Lady Beneviento maintained a cold expression towards the child, who tremblingly held the veil in his hand, looking with horror at the woman's face.

“I'm very sorry, lady, I didn't want to hurt you,” the boy said politely, with a sad face, as if he had been to blame for something horrible.

“You haven't hurt me,” she said, with a low tone, without showing any annoyance or offense, which made you relax and focus on her. She was a terribly beautiful woman. No scar was going to stop you from thinking that way.

“Her, her eye...” The boy repeated, allowing himself to be held in your arms. The lady shook her head, with the same cold expression.

“Viktor...” You sighed, thinking, after that incident, you would never have the job. “My lady, I…”

The lady fixed her eye on yours, without expressing any emotion, and she rose from her chair, retrieving her veil from your son's small hands.

“Mom, I took out her eye...” Viktor murmured, scared, terrified by what he thought he had done. The woman in black, smiled sweetly at those words.

“No, honey, she looks like that. You haven't done anything wrong,” you said, cradling him in your arms, looking askance at the woman, who kept a cold, studious gaze. “I, we should go. Anyway, thanks for helping me.”

“Are you going to look for your stuff?” She asked, frowning and playing with the veil in her hands.

“Well, I... What?”

"Go get the things you want, you'll settle in the guest room,” she explained, walking away from you, turning her back to you. You widened your eyes and shook your head, walking quickly and putting a hand on her shoulder to make her turn around.

“Am I hired?” You asked in a low voice, not believing what had just happened.

“Haven't you heard me? Go get your stuff,” she murmured, pushing your hand away and walking until she disappeared from your sight.

Against all odds, Donna Beneviento appointed you as her maid. You would live safely in the mansion. You would no longer have to fear hunger and cold. You didn't stop thanking the Gods for that opportunity.

At first you had a hard time adjusting. Viktor still needed a lot of care and your job as a maid required you to be less attentive to him as you should be. Fortunately, and to your surprise, that devilish doll made your job easier.

It seemed like your son was having fun with the puppet, it seemed like things were getting better.

Regarding the Lady... Well, there weren’t too many things you could say. That you had seen her face was an important step, since she stopped wearing her veil after a while. She seemed satisfied with your work, but you couldn't be sure, she barely talked to you.

Weeks, months passed, and your life improved enough that you felt like smiling again, and, above all, your son seemed happy.

“Where are you? Viktor, this is not the time to play,” you said while cleaning, surprised because the boy didn't seem to be with the puppet. You searched for him all over the main floor, to no avail.

Although you had no reason to think that anything bad could happen, you couldn't help but see that house as a dangerous place. Donna Beneviento was a Lord, and you knew that none of her visitors returned alive from that dangerous situation. Definitely, the fact that there was a deadly cliff outside didn’t help you to calm down.

“Angie, where is the child?” You nervously asked the puppet, who was humming while making small jumps through the hallway.

“Do I look like a nanny to you, maid?” She asked mockingly, crossing her arms. You sighed, already used to that cocky but fun treatment.

“He's always with you,” you said, huffing, with trembling hands and searching with your eyes for some place he could have gone.

“Maybe he's downstairs,” the puppet whispered, pointing to the elevator.

All your senses became alert. You had warned him several times not to go down to that dark place by himself.

“Very good, thank you very much,” you said, running towards that place.

“Viktor? Come here right now!” You said with a severe tone, walking through those labyrinthine and dark corridors.

While you were walking, you heard voices that seemed to come from the workshop where your lady worked tirelessly, making those sinister dolls.

“Oh, no...” You sighed, walking faster.

It didn't seem like Viktor was a bother to the lady at all, they even seemed to get along well, but still you couldn't let your son ruin this little paradise you had achieved.

“And he can fly,” your son said when you looked at the door of that disturbing place. The boy was sitting at a table, talking to the lady, who was working on something while she listened to his comments.

“I guess we'll have to put some wings on it then, right?” Lady Beneviento responded, with a calming voice, which made you not want to reveal your presence yet.

“No, no, he flies because he has rockets on his boots,” the boy interrupted, looking at the work of the woman in black, who smiled tenderly, arching her eyebrow.

“Rockets?” She asked, amused, taking a piece of wood from the table.

“Yes, yes, like those that go to space, but smaller,” your son explained under your attentive gaze.

“Very well... So... Rockets,” she murmured, concentrating on that piece of wood.

“Mom, mom,” the boy said, when he made eye contact with you, revealing your position and jumping from the table to run into your arms.

“Viktor, I've told you a thousand times not to come down here alone,” you scolded him, making him shrink into your arms, embarrassed.

“(Y/N),” the lady in black murmured, getting up from the chair, with a look that betrayed some joy at seeing you.

Yes, even if your relationship was almost nonexistent, you couldn't help but feel comfortable with her and... It seemed like she thought the same way.

“My lady, I'm sorry if he annoyed you, I've told him many times that he shouldn't come down here and...” You said, lowering your head, interrupted by a timid laugh from the woman in black.

“He wasn’t annoying me, don't worry. It's nice to have some company while I work,” she commented, amused, getting a little closer to you, playing with her hands.

“Mom, Donna is making a toy for me. He's going to be the best superhero,” the boy said, enthusiastically, to which you frowned, nervous again.

“Honey, don't be disrespectful, you should call her my lady or Lady Beneviento,” you told him, ignoring that curious information about a toy.

“No, I told him he can call me that way,” she interrupted, sighing, with a face that was a middle ground between a smile and embarrassment. “You too, (Y/N).”

“Well, I...” You stammered, confused by that informality. According to the maids you knew in the castle, that was unthinkable, and they would end up locked in the dungeons for it. “Okay, okay, Donna…”

“There is no need for so much formality, don't you think? You've been here for a long time,” the woman in black commented, with a knowing smile. You nodded in relief, lowering your son to the floor.

“I guess... That you're right,” you said in a low voice, feeling strangely uncomfortable having her eye fixed on you. It was not an annoying discomfort, quite the opposite.

“He's a good boy,” she told you with a soft voice, making your son smile pleased, looking at you as if he were showing that he wasn't up to any mischief.

“Yes, well... He is,” you said.

“I was making a toy for him,” Donna commented, walking towards the table where she was working, making you follow her slowly after that strange moment.

“A toy?” You asked confused.

“Yeah!” Viktor shouted, jumping on the stone floor, excited. “The best toy ever!”

“Oh, my… Donna, you don't have to do it,” you said apologetically, lowering your head again.

“Why not? I want to do it,” she said, with a more serious tone, with a cold and somewhat annoyed expression.

“I appreciate it but...” You said, scratching the back of your neck and playing with your apron.

“Is there anything wrong with it?” She asked abruptly, making the boy look at you confused.

“No, not really, but...” You whispered, with a slightly nervous smile, with a lot of strange thoughts in your head.

“What is the problem? Can't a nutcase like me make a toy for your son? Do you think I'm going to hurt him? Is that?” She asked with an accusatory tone, with that nervous breathing that preceded a terrible panic attack. You didn't want that to happen, not in front of your son.

“No, I didn't say that,” you said with a firm tone, frowning and hiding your son behind your legs.

“It's what you think, don't try to deny it,” she murmured, sitting down again, thus telling you that you should go.

“I... We better go,” you whispered, grabbing the boy's hand and walking towards the door of the workshop.

“I want to stay with Donna,” Viktor protested, making the lady turn around slowly, looking at you with a sad expression.

 “No, honey, leave her alone, okay?” You said to your son, without taking your eyes off the woman in black. “You've already bothered her enough.”

“But mom... Donna is funny... She makes all the dolls talk and she makes me laugh,” the boy explained, frowning, threatening a tantrum.

“Viktor, obey,” you reprimanded, with a broken voice, feeling bad for that moment, for that fearful accusation towards your lady, an accusation founded solely on what the villagers had told you about the Lord.

“Listen to your mother, Viktor,” Donna whispered, moving some paint cans on the table.

After that little incident, things went back to normal.

You couldn't stop thinking about your words, your fearful way of talking to the lady in black, to Donna.

Yes, you were afraid, you were scared and something would happen to your son was unthinkable but... In reality there was nothing wrong with her making toys for him, with her taking care of him. Guilt began to flood your conscience. Donna never scared him, she never hurt him. She took care of him in her own way, she played with him. You had nothing to worry about except messing things up, like that time.

“My lady,” you commented as you served her lunch, with a low and soft voice. She looked at you out of the corner of her eye and nodded for you to speak. The resentment was totally palpable in that room, it was impossible to ignore in that cold and accusatory look.

“I told you not to call me that,” she murmured, while you poured her a glass of wine.

“I'm sorry, I... I want to apologize,” you said hurriedly, making her stop eating and look at you again, sighing.

“Apologize, why?” She asked. “For thinking that I am a child-eating witch?”

“What? I don't...” You said a bit confused by that funny and serious accusation. “I don’t think that way.”

“Don’t you? You’re such a liar,” she said with a mocking laugh, shaking her head.

“I... I just, I just worry about him," you whispered, glancing at the boy, who was reading a story with Angie. “It's the only thing I have in the world and...”

“You're afraid of losing him, I understand,” Donna said, nodding, looking at you briefly. “Sit down, please,” she asked you, pointing to a chair at the table. You obeyed with trembling legs.

Donna looked at you briefly, thinking about what to say, and how to do it.

“You think you know me?” She asked, putting her food aside and crossing her arms, staring at you like a sharp dagger.

“No, my lady,” you said with a formal voice, lowering your gaze.

“My lady?” Donna asked, with an arched eyebrow and hatred in her voice.

“Donna,” you corrected, embarrassed again.

“I know what it's like to feel alone in this world, (Y/N). Surely all the villagers like you think that I’m just a ruthless Lord, that I have no heart or feelings.”

“I didn't say that,” you defended yourself, trying to control the trembling of your hands.

“But you think that way,” she said, with a dark voice. “You think that by having power over you, I would be able to do anything, right? Even harming child.”

“I don't…”

“Shut up, I'm talking, maid. If you fear me that much, respect me,” she said, with a loud, abrupt voice that caught the attention of the boy and the doll.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered, avoiding feeling even more afraid.

“My parents died when I was a little girl, I wasn't much older than your son,” she began to say, taking a sip of wine. “I was left alone, completely alone in this huge house.”

You nodded, letting her speak.

“Unlike your son, I didn't have anyone to read me stories at night, to tell me that the shadows in the room couldn't hurt me. I didn't have anyone to laugh with, to hug,” she continued, her voice becoming more and more broken. “Your son is lucky to have you, (Y/N).”

“I...” You murmured, being interrupted by a gesture of her hand.

“I like having you here, I like to see that your son is having a better life,” Donna commented, looking at you this time embarrassed, as if there was something that wanted to come out from inside her. “I no longer feel alone, thanks to you.”

You looked at her, but you kept your words to yourself as you saw the relaxation of her breathing, the softness that her gaze expressed at that moment.

“But I can't stand that you fear me, I just can't stand it,” she said, looking away from you, finishing her glass of wine. “I can't stand you thinking... That I'm a monster.”

“I don't think you are,” you said confidently, with your body trembling in a different way, with a strange feeling beginning to come out of a hidden place in your mind. “It's, it's my fault, Donna, I... I just, I just want the best for my son and maybe, maybe I let myself go.”

She nodded grimly.

“I wish your words were true...” Donna murmured, playing with a cutlery and making a gesture with her hand. “Leave me alone, please.”

After that conversation, there was something that ignited inside you. Donna Beneviento may have had a lot of problems, but letting yourself be carried away by other people's opinions was never your style.

Once again, time proved you were wrong.

Viktor seemed very happy. He had fun with Donna in her workshop every day. You barely saw him anymore when you worked. Toys, clothes... The lady in black pleased him with handmade gifts that made him look at you grateful for being her maid.

You managed to improve that tense relationship with the Lord. The conversations were becoming more frequent and the smiles... The smiles too. You couldn't say if the conversation that afternoon had served to change your opinion, but you were convinced it had.

Trust grew to the point that meals were no longer solitary, or apart, they were a fun time for the three of you, full of laughter, smiles and strange moments in which you and Donna would look at each other as if you wanted to say something, as if something was forcing your eyes to meet more and more often.

Love was one of the things you couldn't afford. Viktor was your absolute priority. But with Donna and Angie taking care of him, freeing you from that burden for a while, the feeling of wanting to feel loved became stronger and stronger, and it coincided suspiciously with the times you ate with the lady in black, or the times you spent reading with her and your son.

Something strange, that you didn't expect to feel, but that you couldn't stop thinking. Your heart seemed to be determined to give yourself a new chance at love, but your past experiences were not a good recommendation for your conscience, which insisted on denying that you felt something for Donna, something that you never planned to feel again.

Sighing, you took off your apron, ending another day of exhausting work. The house was big, and so were the layers of dust that covered the furniture.

“Oh, nonna, che occhi grossi!... Per vederti meglio… Oh, nonna, che mani grandi!... Per afferrarti meglio” a soft voice reached your ears. It couldn't be anyone else.

In a small corner of the room, Donna seemed to be reading a story to Viktor, who was listening to her as if he really understood her. You frowned in amusement, approaching them slowly.

“Ma, nonna, che bocca spaventosa!” Donna continued, lowering her tone and looking at the child over the book. Your son stood up on the couch smiling, pretending that his hands were two sharp claws.

“Per divorarti meglio!” The boy screeched, growling like a ferocious wolf. You leaned against a wall, mouth open.

“What are you doing?” You asked amused, sitting next to your son, who continued growling and showing his teeth in a comical way.

“Oh, I was reading him a story,” the lady explained, closing the book and giving you a smile, one of those that caused those strange feelings to take over your breathing, and your heart.

“A story? But, Viktor, do you understand it?” You asked your son, making him sit up and stop pretending he was a wolf. The boy nodded innocently. “Hey, you, since when do you know Italian?”

“Donna taught me,” the little boy explained, shrugging his shoulders. “Am I doing it well?”

“Um, yeah, I guess so,” you said with a raised eyebrow. Donna looked at him fondly, and then, then she looked at you.

“He is very smart,” the lady in black explained, leaving the book of stories on the table, and looking away from you when she thought she had been smiling for too long.

“I see,” you said, still surprised, caressing your son's head, who smiled proudly.

“Can I play tag with Angie?” The boy asked, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“Honey, it's too late, you should go to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch and taking him into your arms. You didn't know why he wanted to play. He was rubbing his eyes due to his tiredness. “Um… Donna…”

The lady stood up with you, looking at you expectantly.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” you said with a smile. She returned it to you and nodded, thus generating a tense moment, one like the ones you had more and more frequently.

“It's not a bother,” she whispered, nodding kindly, with a strange gleam in her eye, as if she were nervous. The way she played with her hands confirmed it to you. “(Y/N), I... I wanted, I wanted to tell you something.”

You nodded almost robotically, waiting… Well, you didn't really know what you were waiting for.

“I... I was thinking that I... You...” She stammered, finding to speak clearly difficult. It seemed like something important, which vanished the moment she dropped her shoulders.

“I'm listening,” you said amused, placing your son better in your arms. Your gazes met again and Donna sighed, as if she was suddenly disappointed with herself.

“I just wanted... I wanted you to know that... I, I really like you're here... You're here with me... In my house and... I... Well, I just, I just wanted to tell you,” Donna stammered, with a marked accent that made it difficult for you to understand those words.

“I, I'm also very happy by your side, I mean, working for you, I mean... Well, better, I'd better go to bed...” You said, cowardly fleeing from that strange conversation, trying to you’re your heartbeat.

You didn't turn to look at her. You assumed she had the same expression as you.

Trying to forget about those feelings, you put your son to bed, with your head speaking to you intensely, with your heart calling for you to listen to it.

“Mom, my superhero,” the boy said, reaching out to the toy that Donna had made for him. You smiled, grabbing it from the shelf and looked at it, studying it carefully before putting it under the covers next to the boy.

“Honey...” You sighed, stroking his hair. “Tell me, are you happy here?” You asked, to which he smiled, nodding profusely and hugging his toy.

“Yes, mom,” he answered, with a sleepy voice. “Donna is very nice, and Angie is very funny. I like them very much.”

“Do you like Donna?” You asked immediately afterwards, giving away the intention of your question.

“Yes, very much, mom, she is kind, she makes me laugh, and she makes you smile. I want us to stay with her forever,” he said enthusiastically, with all the sincerity of which such a young child was capable of.

“Well, maybe...” You whispered, amused. “I like her too, you know?”

You finally confessed something you were unable to tell yourself. Viktor just smiled at you, pleased by your response.

Yes, you had spent a lot of time denying your feelings, and that confession eased your anguish a bit. It's a shame that such a small child was incapable of keeping quiet.

“Looks like the weather has gotten better,” you murmured during lunch. That strange conversation from the night before had tense the atmosphere again, especially for Donna, who didn't seem to want to look at you, as if she were embarrassed by something.

“Yes, at least we can see the sun,” she commented, without looking up.

“Can we go for a walk in the forest?” Viktor asked, making the tension dissipate for a moment.

“We'll see, honey,” you said, wiping him with a napkin. “Come on, eat.”

“I like the forest. It has very big trees,” the boy said, looking at Donna, who smiled tenderly at him.

“Do you like it?” She asked kindly, looking away from you.

“Yes, I like it as much as my mom likes you,” he commented innocently, making you drop the cutlery on the plate, your heart completely stopping and a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Your… mom?” Donna asked, with the same trembling as you, looking at you slowly, with an expression of astonishment and disbelief.

“Viktor...” You sighed with a dark look. “What are you talking about?”

“You told me last night, Mom, you said you really liked Donna,” the boy said, feeling threatened by your angry look and your painful shame.

“Okay, enough, Viktor, go, go to play with Angie,” you said nervously, pushing your son out of the chair.

“But mom...” He protested confusedly, letting himself be dragged by your hand until he ran in search of the doll.

“Damn...” You muttered, slowly heading to the table, pretending that nothing had happened. “I'm going, I'm going to pick this up,” you said nervously, placing the plates to run out of there.

“Wait,” Donna said, standing up abruptly and stopping your attempt to flee with a hand on your shoulder.

“I'm in a hurry, Donna, I have to pick this up,” you said, on the verge of tears, terribly embarrassed and blushing at that inappropriate comment from your son. True, but inappropriate.

“Wait, please, I...” She begged, holding you tighter as you fought back your tears. “I love you.”

You stopped, turning slightly towards her. You hadn't imagined it, she had really said it. Your heart was about to burst.

“What have you said?” You asked with a broken voice, with a low and suspicious tone.

“I love you, (Y/N), I’m, I’m in love with you,” she confessed, looking away from you, with that same wet shine in her eye.

“Donna, I…” You stammered, not believing it could be true, not believing the voices in your heart were right.

“I didn't dare to tell you because, because I wasn't sure if you could feel the same but...”

“But my loudmouth son encouraged you to do it,” you finished, relaxing your face and leaving the plates on the table again, smiling happily, as if you were in a dream.

“I, I know that I’m not... What... What you are looking for but... I, I would like to be able to... I...”

Her babbling was stopped by a kiss, a kiss that you quickly placed on her lips while your hands played with her hair, preventing her from separating from you. Donna pulled away slowly, but before either of you could say anything else, she kissed you, slowly, enjoying that sensation, that love that had just seen the light.

“Gross!” Angie screamed, approaching the scene with your son, who was looking at you with curiosity.

You both closed your eyes and smiled, resting your foreheads together, your hands roaming your waist, enjoying a small moment of realization, of insights that were taking too long to come.

“I'm in love with you too, Donna,” you confessed, playing with her hand, placing your lips once again on hers, with the salty taste of a tear seasoning that important moment.

“Mom...” Your son called, tugging at your dress. You both smiled at each other again before separating. You took the child into your arms, enjoying his innocence.

“What, honey?” You asked, excited by that moment. Donna looked at you tenderly, not wanting to interrupt.

“Does that mean we will stay here forever?” He asked with an excited smile, excited by that possibility. You looked at Donna, and then at your son.

“Yes, darling…”

[child-of-helios]

hello. I've a rather stupid question. I've only read the books once, as a kid, and I don't understand why people hate calpyso x leo. whys it so bad? why does everyone seems to hate it on here?

xxx,

eurydice

First of all, this is my first ever ask, I've made it mother :D Secondly, I'd gladly explain! Though please note that it really has been a good while since I've read the books too, so my memory is kinda foggy :] Warnings for: Slight mentions (but not too much) of rape, pedophilia and mental illness (oh boy this is a tough one)

So, I have made a post abt this before, but it was written in a fit of rage so not my proudest moment (but my most popular post, oops). Anyways, I feel that the hate towards Calypso x Leo is because of a few reasons. 1. It simply didn't get enough development to feel worth it imo. Similar to Jason x Piper, I felt like there wasn't enough there to warrant a canon ship. There is also the fact that personally, I thought that their dynamic was more of a familial or that of siblings, which made me uncomfortable. I would've much rather have them be friends. 2. The uncomfortable age gap. It feels very weird because while yes, Calypso was depicted as a teenager, she is thousands upon thousands of years old. The fact that she fell in love with a literal child is incredibly weird. It was weird enough with Percy, but at least they didn't end up dating. With Leo though, she did end up dating him and the age gap feels very odd. Its even weirder knowing she had a relationship with Odysseus, who by that point was a pretty old dude so she was probably very mature and an adult (though she doesn't act like it). 3. Calypso is kinda a rapist. In the Odyssey myth, she forces Odysseus (a married man) to sleep with her. I'm sorry, but I can't support any relationship involving a rapist unless its rapist x prison cell. It makes me uncomfortable because she could very well take advantage of Leo, a mentally ill teenager with self-esteem issues. 4. Her toxic treatment of Leo. Calypso was very pissed when Leo arrived on her island, rightfully so after what she had gone through, but even then her treatment of his was outright cruel, especially compared to that of Percy and Odysseus. She made him sleep outside, exposing him to the elements after he got flung through the air and ended up on her island, which must've caused some damage. Then after they started dating, I still felt uncomfortable reading about the two, because their dynamic just didn't work, and I don't recall her apologizing to him for her treatment of him. 5. Leo's arc was thrown away. I think the worst of all, is how this impacted Leo's character. He should've had an arc where he learnt to love himself, but because of Calypso he didn't. I think the moral was supposed to be: 'even if you're mentally ill or have problems, you still deserve love!' but it came over more as: 'ignore your issues and get all your love from someone else.' Isn't it more important for kids to learn about self-love? And as an extra: what could've been. I think that Leo shouldn't have gone back for Calypso, that that ship shouldn't have happened. I prefer him going back to Echo and them learning about self-love together as buddies (and maybe evolving into more than that). Echo was stuck in an abusive relationship with the Narcissist, so I think it would a good arc for them both. I also think that if you really wanted a romance, Jason x Leo would've been much better. We know that Rick can write good gay romances, we know that Piper turns out to be a lesbian, so why not make Jason and Leo gay? I think it would add much more to the tragedy of Jason's death, but that's for another post (and this one is getting too long already oops). In conclusion, I think Caleo is bad for many reasons, but especially because it didn't have enough time to develop and the dynamic was simply too creepy for me to get invested in. Sorry for the super long post- Have a lovely day :D

[simpingforheros]

Corruptions

Pairing: Arkham Knight! Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Jason and a freshly reanimated Y/N reeling after the events of Arkham Knight. Kinda Aftermath to Bring Me To Life

Warnings: Implied Dark Themes, Implied non consensual touching and kissing, Consensual/Non-explicit Smut, Mental Health Issues, Violence, Nonintentional Abusive Relationship, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic, Blood, Mentions of Infantilization, Forcing Care (idk how else to describe it), Fluff, Hurt/Comfort??, Mentions of Human Sex Slave (no actual human sex slave), Jason being a mentally ill and not the best boyfriend, but he tries.

Author’s Note: Hiya peeps. I’m happy you guys so far do like my other Jason Todd work so far. I actually started this one last night after failing to fall asleep. And fair warning, while this isn’t what I would consider a Dark Fanfic, there are disturbing themes that may not resonate well with everyone. Criticism is always welcomed but Please Do not copy, steal, or repost my work on other websites and Minors DNI.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jason had never felt more happy in his entire life as he did the moment those eyes looked at him so sweetly for him as he entered his apartment.

The bitter darkness of his world was outshined by her gaze as she excitedly scurried to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. The oversized shirt that barely covered her thighs riding up as she jumped into his awaiting arms. She was so innocent as she allowed him to carry her to the old couch against the wall as she asks about his day. A question that is only answered with a groan as he sits down with her straddling his waist as he buries his face in her chest, breathing in her smell.

Ignoring the bite from his militarized suit or the metallic smell that practically radiated off of him, she strokes his greasy hair as she gazes at him with so much affection in her eyes. Even as he lifts her off him for a moment to strip himself of his costume and practically mauls her shirt off of her, her love never wavered as her devotion allowed his unworthy hands hold her.

Jason almost forgets about the ridged scars that littered the soft areas of her skin. The painfully red ones that puffed out just like his did were the ones that made Jason cry at night until she would press herself onto him until he soothed. Her scars weren’t anything for him to judge. They were her medals of bravery and sacrifice while his were well deserved punishments for his failures. His favorite scars on her were the excisions on her chest that extended down her front and forking up her collarbone to her shoulders. He presses his unholy thoughts into those scars as they remind him that Slade didn’t lie to him.

She was the real Y/N. The one he lost to Joker all those years ago in Ethiopia and had kept him comforted mentally during his time in Arkham. The one he promised to avenge was now within his grasps again. She was almost the same as she was before…almost..

Ignoring how she was unnaturally warm or the unnatural green glow that seemed to highlight her E/C eyes, Y/N came back mentally different too. After Slade brought her back, she had apparently suffered with a condition called ‘Pit Madness’ and the sick bastard that was Slade had ‘treated’ her illness before bringing her to Jason. The scars that were barely noticeable on her temples were the only evidence that he had that Deathstroke fried what was possibly left of Y/N.

She came back to Jason basically a new person. Like she was just manifested into his dark world with a naive wonder that a child would have and not a 19 year old woman.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

“Why is she acting like this?…” Jason asked as he looked to the medic in a daze.

The medic looked terrified to answer the Arkham Knight, whether that was because of who he was or that it was the first time the Knight was acting different. A strange difference…

But Jason can say the same thing about Y/N.

She was curiously examining the table of medical equipment as if she’s never seen any of it in her life. Even going as far as picking up a syringe and playing with it.

His Y/N was terrified of needles. She would throw up whenever she saw Alfred approached her with one.

“Sir, this maybe a result of brain damage due to the electroshock therapy she received or a psychological induced amnesia…” The medic stutters out as he tries to carefully take the syringe from her. “We don’t have the proper equipment to determine that right now, so we can wait to see if her memory returns but I’m very-!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

But, Y/N wasn’t completely gone. She was there. Along with something he’s never seen before from her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The medic screams practically made Jason snap his neck to catch the most unseeable sight he ever seen. As the doctor wails gripping onto his hand, his eyes finally accepted the image before him.

Y/N’s now cold, blank eyes stared at the blood on her hand as the now needless syringe was laying on the hospital bed.

She stabbed him and broke the needle off into his hand. His sweet Y/N hurt an innocent man (as innocent a medical militia doctor can be).

His arms carefully wrap around her as he yanks her away from the scene as the other medics came to help the doctor. As he held her, her eyes sparkled again with that childish innocence as she gripped onto his arms, like they were in an embrace and he wasn’t restraining her.

Those cold eyes haunting his mind as he realized there why Slade waited to bring her to him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Indifference…that’s what shined in her eyes that day. Jason couldn’t help the shiver in his spine every time he thought about that evening.

Indifference wasn’t the same as Hatred. Jason knew Hatred like the back of his hand. It’s a fiery hot emotion that scrotches his insides and fueled his vengeance. It was the closest emotion to Love because it motivates and changes a person to their fundamental core. It haunts and eats away at him like a disease and he couldn’t be happier to spread it.

Indifference was worst. It showed little regard for life. No care, no motivation. Just a simple snap of its fingers and a life can be snuffed out without a second thought.

That wasn’t what his Y/N is suppose to believe in. His Y/N was love. She was the most kind person he’s ever know and was willing to give up her life for his. The shell that was her, the madness, made her do what she did.

And that scared him. Especially since in the beginning.

Whether she would stand blankly as she looked at the wall or just stare at him, sometimes that indifference comes back. Her desire to kill remained a silent one but he could taste it. In the metallic blood that seemed the floor as her hand gripped a cup just too tight or in the stale night air that surrounded him as she kneeled beside him in bed, pillow gripped in her arms.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jason rationalized that he was doing the right thing. Slade may have fried her brain in order to make her a possible sex toy for the Knight, but Jason was just punishing her to bring herself back to him.

Whether he would tie her up in order to get her to eat or painfully grip her in the shower to get her clean, everything he did was for her. Because he knew that he has to be as patient Y/N would have been with him if there roles were reversed.

It was hard at first. He hated having to restrain her or to drug her. That was when the indifference episodes were more often. When he was still the Arkham Knight. He almost thought about giving up on her when the stress of killing Batman and the pressure from Victor Crane was suffocating him.

Until he caught a glimpse of hope…

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Y-you did this to me” Jason painfully wept as he looked up to his former mentor. “You ruined us! Like how you ruined Barbara, Y/N, and now me!!”

Bruce looked down at him sympathetically as he reaches out a hand. A chance to help him. To not let him do it alone…

That was until a whirling shot clipped his cheek. Batman ducks as he throws a batterang at the unknown shooter, but a familiar cry causes both men to freeze.

Y/N fell to the ground as she clutched her eye. Blood leaking from her finger tips as she looked up at Bruce with what Jason thought was indifference.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t even hate. It was the spark that Jason remembered the night she drugged him and went to that warehouse.

The last time His Y/N looked at him with love and determination.

“Stay away from my Jason…” she seethes at Batman before Jason snaps out of his dazed first.

As a smoke screen was deployed, Jason flees with Y/N with renewed hope and love in his once dead heart. His Y/N was still in there and she still loved him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Jason…” Her breathy moans filled his ears as his reality was restored at where they were at. His fingers dripping as he pulled those beautiful mewls out of her. Her rehearsed movements hypnotized him as he captures her mouth.

It was his reward. All of this was his hardwork and suffering was finally paying off.

After he brought her out of Arkham and into hiding, he tried a different approach to treating her. He realized he should be working towards her dream instead of forcing her to relive her past.

So instead of retelling her stories that her naive brain couldn’t remember, he would start treating her like a little girlfriend. Praising her when she did something he wanted to do or when she did something that reminded him of her old self. Instead of bringing her back around her friends and family, he locked her away in the apartment he got for her in Old Gotham where she can see the stars. He even got her a dumb little cat after she willingly kissed him for the first time. The claw marks from Frank the cat were worth it just so she can innocently press her lips to his.

Her naive nature made his stomach turn in a wrong way. His Y/N wasn’t some experienced teenaged party girl by any means before her death, but she was at least aware of how couples should act. This Y/N was unaware. And that’s why it scared him that he liked to corrupt this new side of her.

So in the beginning, when his touches and kisses were met with confusion and innocent pecks, he almost passed out from excitement. It wasn’t until his old Y/N started appearing that his touches were receptive.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I brought dinner!” Jason announced as he put the pizza box on the table.

Y/N looks at the pizza with a look of disappointment as Jason twerks his eyebrow in confusion. “What’s wrong, honey?” He asked softly.

“I wanted Accetta’s…” She said much to Jason’s surprise. His uncontrollable smile brightened up the room as he comforted her. “I’m sorry, baby. I forgot that was what you want. which one did you want from Mr. Accetta’s? ”

“The one with the meat and cheese with the green peppers…” Y/N said absent mindedly as Jason felt like bouncing with joy as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. She sweetly smiles up at him and presses a kiss to his lips, initiating the kiss for the first time as Jason’s heart swelled.

Mr.Accetta’s closed down a year and a half ago after Mr. Frank Accetta died, so Jason happily found the closest thing even if she looked confused when he came back, not entirely remembering the conversation.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

All of that accumulated in more moments where she would remember her past life. Jason, of course, only helped her remember the good memories only.

Like baking her the cookies Alfred made her when she was sad, reading books softly as the thunderstorms rolled her out into a nightmare, and talking about their future curled up into each other as the cold air seemed through the old walls of their apartment.

She wasn’t fully back. But she was now shining a bit in her eyes as he listened to talk about anything she wanted. Moments like this were the pockets of heaven.

But there was also pockets of reality.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“No! no! no!” He violently screamed and kicked as he fought the invisible monsters that continued to hurt him in the mental battlefield of his mind. The painfully real snap of a bone breaking woke him up as Y/N’s cries filled the room.

Y/N was no stranger to nightmares either as sometimes he would trigger her own nightmares. While normally one would wake up when they realize it, there was times where they would hurt each other on accident.

Because Jason was bigger and stronger than Y/N, he would often only get a scratch to the face or a good bruise on his skin, but he wouldn’t be honest if he said that he did feel his heart break when he unintentionally injured her severely.

Broken bones, dark blotches, and panic attacks filled her misery as Jason was left feeling guilty. Once she was awake and her bone was reset, she would calm down and start comforting the now anxious Jason.

He knew it was unhealthy. He could end up killing her one day, but he was a selfish man. Like a stray dog being fed. He couldn’t leave her now.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Her whimpers mixed with his as the two clung to each other. Their hips absentmindedly chasing their highs with no real coordination. Their inexperienced hands exploring their scarred bodies as they tried to erase those painful memories with each other’s touch. Their prayers acting like a balm as they were recited in the small space between them.

Moments like these, where they just wanted to just live in their bubble of corrupted love and misplaced lust. In this haze where he will come back from being the Red Hood, hands stained with blood, Y/N waits with open arms, ready to be embraced by his soiled hands.

The universe put almost everything between them to keep the pair apart, but not even death and torture could rip them apart. Not even the danger of each other can destroy their unhealthy connection. Jason knows he’s fucked in the head, to treat her like this and put her in danger all the time, but he can’t pull away.

Not when she sounded so sweet in his ear as she fell apart for him. Her tears being the fuel he needed to mark her body and soul with himself. Their foreheads pressed together as she whispers the same words that haunted him.

“I love you, Jay..”

“I love you too, baby girl…”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

AN : Not gonna lie, this isn’t my favorite. I already had it written and wanted to share it because I need my fix of hurt comfort or whatever this counts as. I do intend to post more of the similar Arkham Knight x Reanimated Batgirl dynamic in the future, some more fluffy or darker if I can imagine it. I’m also gonna write stuff for other fandoms too so look out for a masterlist if you’re interested. Thank yall again for the love and I hope yall have a safe day.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@simpingforheros fanfiction. I do not authorize the plagiarism, copying, stealing or reposting of any of my fanfics on other websites or accounts.

[bittersuitejacobs]

• an unhealthy obsession •

{Nate Jacobs/Original Character}

Ophelia is no stranger to wanting. For most of her life it's all she'd been allowed to do, trapped on the outside looking in, window shopping for normal experiences. Ophelia is also no stranger to obsession. Books, movies, TV shows; a terribly ill child who never even had the chance to make a real friend, she took what she could from fiction. All she'd ever wanted growing up, the thing she obsessed over, was someone who could save her, from her life, from herself. Someone who could make her feel alive.

So when her attention is caught by a beautiful, awful boy with a saviour complex, Ophelia vows not to remain a stranger to him either, no matter the cost.

Ophelia may no longer need to be saved, but Nate Jacobs makes her feel so damn alive, so she will turn herself into the kind of girl he wants, needs, and obsesses over too.

• in which Ophelia and Nate are somehow not the worst things to ever happen to each other. •

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Mutual Obsession, Stalking, Manipulative Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Infidelity/Cheating, Drinking, Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use & Sexual Assault, Childhood Parental Abuse (Medical/Psychological/Emotional). Chapters will contain specific warnings.

{ fic playlist }

+ IN PROGRESS +

[ Season One ]

1. spectacle

2. the slate cleaned

3. knight in shining armour

4. according to plan

5. unexpected ink

6. daddy's angel

7. a week of turtlenecks

8. like and subscribe

9. dirty little secret

10. praise kink

11. deja vu

12. little black dress

13. fight flight fawn freeze

14. the aftermath of violence

15. boot theory

16. i quite enjoy ruining your day

17. mutually assured destruction

18. detriments of the modern age

19. justly serv'd

20. sanctuary

21. paper stars

[ Season Two ]

22. resolutions

23. bpm

+ ...

[ Alternate Universe ]

cool for the summer

Nate's been best friends with Lee Chase for as long as he can remember, and Lee's little sister Ophelia has always been... there. The best thing about her is how easy she is to ignore.

But everything changes between them when Lee and his dad go to Fiji for the Summer before their Junior year, and Nate and Lee's moms decide to spend that time holidaying together up the coast, taking the rest of their children with them.

So now, much to Nate's chagrin, he's forced to share a bed with his best friend's sixteen year old sister, who he's barely even had a full conversation with before in his life. But he quickly realises that she's bolder than he gave her credit for. Maybe it's a good thing her brother's on the other side of the world.

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Possessive Behaviour, Underage Drinking, Ongoing Parental Neglect/Emotional Abuse, Compulsive Over exercising as a Form of Self Harm, Mental Healthy & Unreality Struggles. Chapters will contain specific warnings.

1. Reintroduce

2. Reinvent

3. Recontextualise

4. Reconfigure

5. Realise

6. Revitalise

7. Reiterate

8. Reconnect

9. Restring

+ ...

Posting of completed chapters for the main fic will begin in the next few days.

Posting of the AU will begin after Chapter 10 of the main fic and will alternate.

THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN !

(just message or comment to be added; I'll add you to the taglist for both unless you let me know you only wanna be tagged for updates from one)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?