#I really would like to get some issues fixed

[gtgbabie0]

Can I make a request for Ambessa with wife!reader and reader is a few months postpartum and she’s insecure about her figure. Ambessa decides to comfort her and show her how special she really is.

⋆⁺ ✮⋆⁺ Ambessa Medarda x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: {The birth of your child left you with many doubts and your wife proves them all wrong} CW: talks of childbirth, body image issues, themes of postpartum depression, bathing together. AN: I got so carried away with this. oml.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

The birthing bed was your battlefield as the wife to a fearsome warlord— a fate that had surprisingly brought you more happiness than you had originally anticipated, that was until your waters broke and the contractions started. Then you were cursing Ambessa’s name.

You were prepared for this, your handmaidens spent day and night explaining to you the pain and showing you hand-drawn pictures— your mother had even told you of her own experiences. It was all pointless because you quickly learned that no word or picture could ever even begin to describe the pain of childbirth.

It didn’t get much easier from there. The battle continued even after the birth of a healthy baby boy and girl—oh how grateful your wife was—twins, a strong boy and girl to carry on her name… a miracle. You only wished you could share her joy, but you couldn’t. There was an odd disconnect that had managed to wedge itself between you, your children, and Ambessa.

Your skin didn’t feel your own, hell, your whole life didn’t feel like yours— almost as if you had taken the place of some stranger, a different woman that was not you. That woman was more suited to be a mother, a wife. It was a sickening feeling, one that often left you immobilised in bed.

You didn’t want to face the mirrors, hold your babies, or have your wife look at you, much less touch you—hence why you slept with a pillow stuffed between you both, not wanting to risk it… despite how much you deeply yearned for it, and oh how you really did yearn for her comforting touch.

It was the reason your maid brings you your nightly tea with just enough crushed poppy flowers to knock you out— you preferred to sleep before your wife got back from her duties, although you told your maids differently.

“Leave it on the table.” The words leave you with a sigh, not looking over to her from your place on the sofa— a deep red velvet colour, soft to the touch, your wife only accepts perfection.

“Lady Medarda, surely a simple ginger tea would be better for you?— The pain shouldn’t be lasting this long.” bless her, she sounded so concerned. Of course, your excuse of birthing pains could only last so long, five whole months had passed since— the warmth of summer slowly dwindling away, replaced by a sharp chill that autumn brought.

You shake your head, bringing your fingertips to your temple with a pitiful glint in your eyes, ready to put on a show— then the bedroom door opens and your handmaiden is bowing to Ambessa, whose eyes are fixed onto you, stepping off to the side politely.

“You’re back early.” The words fly from your lips faster than you could even process them and far more harshly than intended, however, the quiver in your voice gives you away. Your false bravado was not lost on Ambessa, that mask you wore did not fool her.

“Leave us.” Her words are sharp, stern and has the maid scurrying off— dress clutched in her hands. You could already hear the gossip she was sure to spread with the other servants.

A sigh escapes you as your eyes flicker over to the flames in the fireplace, watching the embers dance wildly within the hearth— Ambessa’s heavy, golden spear hanging above, displayed proudly, every nick and indent tells a different story. You let your mind wander in hopes she'll drop it.

“Do I need to send for a doctor?” She doesn't. Your wife was a smart woman, she knew you like the back of her hand and could read all your inner thoughts, until recently— now getting a single word out of you was like trying to get blood out of a stone. Instead, she was left with this distance you had managed to put between yourself and her. Ambessa felt it, she just didn’t know how exactly to approach it and it was driving her crazy.

She was a practical woman, fixing her problems with strength, not emotions, this was not her strong suit. But she also did not know defeat.

“No, I am fine.” The lie didn’t sound convincing in the slightest, not even in your own ears— the words make you wince and from the sound of her scoff she didn’t believe you either.

You hated to be the cause of her concern, gods only know how busy the woman already was. Ambessa watches you, studying your movements with slightly narrowed eyes as you tug your shawl over your shoulders— grasping the soft fabric as if it were some sort of protective shield, a lifeline, that you wished desperately to disappear into.

“This is not fine, lie to your handmaidens all you want but do not lie to me.” Her tone is much softer than you deserve, you can’t help but cower away with a look of shame in your eyes— it only triples when she kneels down in front of you, her big, battle-worn hands resting over your knees.

The Ambessa Medarda, a feared warrior, kneeling before you like you were some sort of deity worth praying to… no it didn’t feel right.

The words die on your tongue, getting stuck in the back of your throat tightly— a whimper is the only thing you can let out, such a weak sound, strained with this insecurity that had been eating away at you for months.

“I do not know what it is— just an ache I cannot rid myself of, no matter what I do.” you breathe, dropping your head slightly as your gaze falls to her hands, the way her thumb rubs the inside of your knee. “I bring shame upon this family— upon you.”

Ambessa tuts at your words, pinching your chin between her index finger and thumb. “Shame?— look at me,” your eyes find her own hesitantly. “You are my greatest treasure… my proudest accomplishment.”

“I can’t be— I’m not fit for motherhood, to be your wife. I am weak.”

She bristles, “No flower, you are the furthest thing from weak. Motherhood is no easy feat, but we strengthen each other… you have me. Forever.” her eyes never once straying from your own.

You have only ever heard such loving sincerity from her a handful of times, on the day she asked you to marry her and the first time she had taken your maidenhead— your wedding night, and now. It’s a stern tone that is draped in earnest, so heavy with love, leaving no space for arguments.

Ambessa wouldn’t hear another word of it, of you speaking poorly of yourself— she had taken someone’s tongue after they foolishly insulted you, that wasn’t for nothing, that was out of devotion.

So all you can do is apologise— “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” but even that she doesn’t want to hear, her lips pressing a soothing kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“No more apologies, no more distance. You have me.” She promises, words whispered against your cheek before she pulls back to admire you with a soft yet firm stare. “Understood?”

“Yes, I understand.” You whisper, leaning into her hand as soon as her rough palm meets your cheek— your chest tightens and your eyes prickle with tears, it had been far too long since you felt her tender touch. With a hum of acknowledgement, she leans forward, still kneeling before you, her hand curving across your jaw to cup the back of your head— her lips meeting your own in a slow kiss, the rough pad of her thumb brushing your tears away.

“Shh my heart, I’m right here.” She soothes, lips brushing along your jaw when you melt further into her— trembling hands resting upon her broad shoulders which she cages within her own big ones as she pulls back to admire you. “I’ll have a bath prepared for us.”

Her words make you tense, something uncomfortable churning within your stomach at the thought. “No, my body has changed— it’s—”

“—It is just as perfect as the night I first had you.”

“No, it’s different.”

“Sweetling, you have brought life into this world. It’s a beautiful change.” She murmurs against your knuckles with an almost reverent gleam in her eyes, one that almost breaks down the defences that you have built up around your fragile heart, almost.

Ambessa can sense your unease, the hesitation— the way you can’t seem to meet her eyes and it destroys her, how had she failed to protect you from everything but this? She brings your palm to rest over her heart, her eyes searching your own. “Trust me with this, let me worship you.” there's a soft question hidden beneath her tone, behind the firmness of what sounds like a demand.

“Just— Just a bath,” you whisper, glossy eyes and strained voice and she nods in response— cupping your face ever so gently as she repeats “Just a bath.” in agreement.

You trust her enough to guide you to your shared bathroom, enough to let her peel your nightgown off with careful hands, fingertips grazing across your body ever so slightly. The comforting scent of rose and honey wisps around you, carrying memories of nights you’ve shared like this and the prospect of being close to her seems a little less daunting as the familiarity warms your heart and the hot water envelops your body.

Ambessa's form engulfs your own as she sits behind you, strong thighs caging either side of you. It was protective, how her hands rub across your shoulders soothingly and the soft whispers of sweet nothings that leave her lips, muffled into the nape of your neck. She wishes to rid you of any self-doubt that had wormed itself into your mind.

Bubbles splay across your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees that you’ve tucked beneath your chin in an attempt to make yourself smaller. “Flower?— relax into me,” her voice breaks you out of your thoughts as she slowly guides you back against her chest, wrapping an arm around your abdomen whilst the other moves to cup your cheek.

The candlelight flickers against your face as you tip your head backwards to look up at her, her thumb wiping away a stray tear that had escaped you. “Forgive me for not noticing your pain sooner,” She whispers, dropping a kiss to your forehead and then another to the tip of your nose.

The warm water laps at your bodies slightly as you move to curl up further into her, wanting to disappear in her embrace. “Just don’t let go,” and with that her arms tighten around your body, leaning to rest her forehead against your own.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Your place in my heart is yours, no one can take that from you.” You sigh at your words, letting out a teary giggle as she peppers kisses over your face. For the first time in a while, you felt whole, full, in a way you thought you would never feel again, for the time being at least… you savoured every second of it.

Her fingertips trace over the stretch marks left by your pregnancy, letting her lips trail over the dewy skin of your shoulders whispering soft “I love yous,” against you as she washes your hair— smirking at the way you let your guard down for her, how your eyes flutter close and the way sigh and hum in delight as she massages your scalp.

The water felt cleansing in a way, as it trickles down your head and along your back, washing away the months of aches that weighed on top of you. “How does that feel?” She asks, lips brushing along your jaw.

“Good, much better.” The relief in your tone brought immeasurable amounts of satisfaction to her that she couldn’t help but chuckle, happiness blooming through her chest as she replies with a soft. “That’s what I like to hear, my sweet.”

Ambessa vows to herself in that very moment to spend the night and every other night paying homage to the curves and dips of your body, to each stretch mark that maps over your skin until you feel nothing but love— she would put your pieces back together again no matter how jagged the edges were.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

[ropebunnykant]

okay sooo, this is actually part two of a post dissecting the boat scene because i have far too much to say about it, you can find part one here.

where i last left off, i was talking about how bison is asking kant to answer him after asking who forced him to work for the police, which gets us to this moment.

lauren @sunsetsover already talked a little bit about this moment here, and to reiterate what she said, this is the first time in the show where we see kant actually ask for something he needs.

now, in the early episodes, i talked a lot about how kant needs control and how he doesn't really ask for things. his tactic tends to be just taking, and again, it goes back to those control issues. and it's funny because kant, in so many ways, is a walking contradiction. he has had to be in control of everything since he was a child, a young child, which we learn in this scene as well. his control issues aren't him being an asshole, it's a coping mechanism. he's had to have everything under control, has had to have everything on his shoulders since the moment his parents died. and yet, at the same time, kant has never had any ACTUAL control over his own situation. his parents died and he was forced to take on the role of father, parent, caretaker, for babe who couldn't have been older than two or three, if that, when their parents died. and since that, every decision he's made has been a product of taking care of babe. he probably never went to college because he had to take care of babe, he never had dreams or goals because he had to look after his brother. he stole cars, he became a police informant, all so he could take care of babe, and he didn't actually have a say in any of it!

kant hasn't had a choice in anything, and he's never actually asked for or done anything for himself.

but in this moment he does. in this moment he has to. so he asks bison, in his still deadpan tone, to calm down. he tell him he'll explain everything if they get on land, and he tells him that he's scared of the ocean. this is kant at his most vulnerable, his most open, begging bison to listen to him - not just when it comes to the truth, but about what he needs in the moment. the camera pans back to show us the water again and then kant looks and some emotion finally comes back when he does, and you can see the fear in his eyes again as he tells bison he's scared. but of course bison doesn't listen. why would he?

who cares what you need, kant? who cares what you want, kant? you hurt him. you betrayed him. you told him you loved him and you lied. at least that's what bison believes.

you can see kant slowly starting to come back here. the fear and guilt slowly coming back into his expression after he'd been completely blank.

and bison lays it on thicker. tells kant how much he's hurt him.

and i think this right here. this is when kant decides to stop speaking entirely. this is when he realizes nothing he could possibly say is going to fix this. nothing is going to get him back on land. and maybe he deserves that, doesn't he? for what he did? for everything he's done?

bison asks kant outright if he gave him the necklace because he loves him but kant can't answer. not because that's not exactly why he did give bison the necklace, but because he knows bison won't believe it. kant could get on his knees right now and tell bison everything, the whole truth, but bison wouldn't believe it. bison has already made up his mind that kant never loved him, he'd be talking to a wall. and that hurts. because he knows he fucked up. he knows he lied. but that necklace was real. that necklace was kant's burger pin. he gave it to bison like he gave bison his heart and now bison is dangling it in front of him as if it's proof of the opposite.

and god this little sequence right here, too. the way bison is yelling and he's angry but he's just so hurt too. you can see it on his face in the second screenshot. he's asking because he needs kant to tell him that he doesn't love bison. that he never did. because maybe then it'll make it a little easier to put a bullet between his eyes. but kant can't tell him that. because it's not the truth. because yes kant lied, yes kant betrayed him. but loving bison was never the lie. bison is holding the proof of it in his hands, even if can't see that.

kant takes a breath here and god, again, you can see how resigned he is at this point. he can't answer bison, doesn't see a point. he knows there's nothing he can do to change bison's mind. if he says he does love bison, he'll call him a liar. and lying isn't an option anymore - not only would it not get him anywhere, but he can't do it anymore. he can't physically lie to bison anymore. he's done. there's nothing else he can say.

then bison throws the necklace in the water and tells kant to go get it and oh the fear is back again, and the heartbreak too. i think kant was thinking, hoping, that bison would just shoot him. but instead you see him realize that bison wants him to jump in the water instead. that bison wants him to drown for this. to spend his last moments in absolute fucking terror.

and god this might be the part of the scene that got me the most. kant looks at the water and he doesn't see the water in front of him. he sees a suitcase from the plane crash and he hears himself calling for his dad. he might very well be having a ptsd episode or getting close to one.

kant is so terrified in this moment but he looks at bison and bison tells him to go and kant has a choice here. for once, he has a choice. he can jump in the water like bison wants him to, or he can let bison shoot him for not listening. and the crazy part is, you would think the man so panicked over this water would choose the gun, the quick and painless way, but even here before bison threatens to push him, kant is already starting to step towards the edge. he doesn't even need to think about it. because he deserves this, doesn't he? he deserves to die in sheer terror and fear because of what he did to bison. and at least this way, maybe he can die with bison believing he loved him. maybe he can prove himself in his final act.

but he still can't actually bring himself forward yet. because he's still fucking terrified of jumping in, of what will happen. because all he can think about is when he was a kid and he almost drowned in a plane crash.

i've reached image limit again, but you can find part three here.

[luvrodite]

ok wait i need to say something about the dick grayson thought i've been turning over in my head for a bit.

i unfortunately do like readers that are a bit tragic and don't get a happy ending. it's like poking at a bruise idk it's cathartic in its own way. anyway. i know the age difference between dick and jason isn't really that big but i think it's big enough for this to work?

anyway i'm thinking about the relationship you have with dick when he moves out of the manor. you guys fuck, sure, and sometimes you go out, but you're not his girlfriend. not really. it's casual, except it isn't at the same time because dick comes with a plethora of his own issues and for some reason you can't quite fathom, he's decided you're the only one that gets to see that side of him.

you see him like nobody else does. you get the good, the bad and the ugly. you hold him through his nightmares. you brush his hair back from his forehead when he stares at his phone a little too long. you come by when it's been a few weeks and you haven't heard from him.

somehow you kind of end up playing intermediary between him and the kid brother his dad/guardian/mentor/older brother picked up along the way. jason is sweet. and you can tell he longs for a relationship with dick but he's got so much going on. it doesn't matter. jason takes what he can get.

you wonder when you started getting involved in your hookups' lives. but then it feels reductive to call it that. what the two of you have spans beyond that. it's so much more than that. dick touches the lives of all that he meets and you aren't special for it, but you feel it. maybe to the others he knows, in their weird, dysfunctional world, it's normal.

but you're a regular citizen. you go to work. you come home and do the dishes. you cook, you clean, you curse out your landlord when he puts off fixing the heating for the nth time. dysfunctional relationships are alien to you – the weight of all dick gives you, it has to mean something. fuck the forehead kisses, it stopped being casual when he held your hand through a doctor's visit and the fibers in your pillowcase swallowed his tears after a run in with bruce.

you play intermediary. jason sees more and more of you than you think he should, but he doesn't complain. you even grow used to the little bugger. you don't have much in the way of your own family, and he becomes something like the kid brother you never had. you grow used to the inappropriate humour that shocked you the first time it came out of his mouth, blue eyes shining up at you mischievously.

his height gives off the impression he's more youthful than he is and sometimes you end up babying him a little more for it. sometimes, he lets you. you brush a hand over his curls like you do his brother and keep a hand on his shoulder when you go to the corner store. you tell him to pick out whatever he wants, and that it's on you. he looks up at you like you got him the moon when you toss him a copy of his favourite book after a while of not seeing him – yours is all beat up, kid, pretty soon you won't be able to read it anymore.

you don't know how to deal with it when he dies, not long after you and dick break things off.

15. only a baby.

it's violent. you get the news from the papers and the picture of the blast zone makes you stop breathing. dick doesn't pick up the phone – why would he? and you're not even sure if you're allowed to reach out.

the last you'd heard, he'd been pretty cosied up with a new co-worker of some sort. red hair, pretty eyes. more than you'd ever gotten from him. sure, you'd known dick – you knew him. you were the closest he'd ever been to anyone, but it had simply been because there was nothing to lose with you.

you hold his grief, hold his heart in your hands, but you are nobody and you will not ask for more because he sleeps in your bed and sometimes, he holds your hand in public when you're walking through a crowded street. you guys have good days and it's something.

but he’ll is not yours – will never be yours, not fully, not like he belongs to bruce and gotham and the titans and his team. you’re a girl who he comes to because you’re safe.

but his brother dies and he's gone and you're left with not only the heartbreak of losing something never named, but the grief of a real tangible friendship, the death of a brother.

you are nobody and nothing – you're not the one that gets the guy and you are not the one that gets to mourn. you see him at his lowest and love him at his worst but he is not yours, and neither is the little boy that dies much too young, alone and scared.

you fall between the cracks. nobody stops to think about the girl who'd sometimes been mentioned in passing at the dinner table, on the rare occasion dick ventured back home to the manor. how can they? not when bruce is driven near mad with grief, not when dick is god knows where and it's all that alfred pennyworth can do to keep his charge and himself together.

i don't know. i just think about how it takes you months to muster up the energy and courage to visit your friend's grave – because jason was your friend, too. the baby brother you'd never had, a kid you'd felt responsible for, like he was your own. the visit leaves you exhausted and it's of course then, that on your way out, you bump into the second half of your troubles.

dick stares at you like he's seen a ghost and all that happened between you lingers in the air, the weight of it oppressive in the cold winter air. frost in the air, frost clinging to your lashes, heartbreak colouring you blue.

you look at him and think of it – how much you had put up with from him. how dearly you'd loved him. stupid, to catch feelings, but you'd gone ahead and done it. worst of all, he'd known it, too.

there'd been a time, not so long ago, when you would have let him do anything he pleased. lay me down, strike me, hurt me, i will bear it because it is at your hand. and he'd known.

he'd known it was wrong but he was hurting and it’d been easy with you because you didn't ask for more than he’d give but you did hope. and he could see it in your eyes that you hoped he’d give himself wholly over to you but he just wasn't there. perhaps he never would be. and you deserved better but he couldn't let you go. his regret, one amongst many, is that he had not done it sooner. shielded you from more pain at his hand.

once, dick had something of a god to you. now he stands before you and you see him as he is, a mere man. a tired, grief-stricken, man.

the only mercy he grants you now, is to let you walk away.

blank blogs dni. minors dni. have your age in your bio otherwise you will be blocked!

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

She’ll be There

Sevika x Female Reader

Headcannons || Angst + Fluff

Cw: Mentions of self-harm (not fully described, I know it can be triggering), self sabotage, and mentions of binge eating disorder. Modern setting. Sevika has both arms (though it doesn’t have anything to do with the plot). Not a lot of in depth details, only because I didn’t want it to be uncomfortable or triggering.

Proofread || Note: It surprised me when I noticed there’s barely any recognition of binge eating disorder. And, so, I decided to write about it. Really sucks that a lot of people don’t even know that it exists. Also, no, I am NOT romanticizing sh and ed, this is just for readers who find comfort in these kinds of fanfics; ones who relate. (Also because I struggle with it.)

Sevika was one of those girlfriends who made you question if you really deserved her. One of those girlfriends that made you so happy that you were sure that all of it was all some sort of dream. She took care of you when you weren’t well. When you needed comfort and support. She was there regardless. You were a priority much greater than anything else, she loved you more than anything else.

But, there was always a sense of guilt that tugged at you whenever she showed affection. It was unfair to her that she had to do so much compared to other couples. It was like being a burden, a broken tool that wouldn’t fix. A tool that had to patched up daily, made sure it didn’t break itself again. You were sure she’d get tired.

But that day never came.

A healthy relationship with food was what you strived for. What you could only try your best for. Not even a few minutes after eating you were hungry again. Well, you weren’t actually hungry. Your stomach was half full and you weren’t needing more. It was just you being bored and eating being a way for you to comfort yourself. It was a coping mechanism that you’d picked up at a young age; and never noticed how horrible it was for you.

Sevika was aware of your problem, of the issues you had with food, and how it was difficult it was for you not to turn to food for distraction.

When you were upset, you’d grab yourself a plate of leftovers. When you were angry, you’d have a bowl of chips in your lap and munch on it. Even when you were happy, you’d make yourself some pasta. And, undoubtedly, your girlfriend was worried with the amount of food you’d eat in such a short amount of time.

Gradually, she decided to do something about it. Convincing you to tag along with her whenever she went out, making plans to go to your favourite bookstore, and even taking you shopping. She tried her hardest to distract you.

Sevika didn’t know much about your eating disorder, but she did her research. Reading books, searching online, and even asking you your struggle.

She’d ask you how you felt about the whole thing. What you thought. How you felt when you didn’t indulge in the urge and it felt after you ate. Your girlfriend had a lot of questions and you did your best at answering them. Some of them were ones you’d never thought of asking yourself, they had you thinking. And you appreciated her efforts in understanding.

Sevika would even cook your favourite food whenever you were genuinely hungry. She’d go on youtube and learn recipes for you, even make desserts so she knew you were full. Most of her attention would be on you, making sure your body was satisfied with your intake.

There was never a time where you felt that your girlfriend was tired of the extra care she gave you. In all honesty, that woman loved all of it. Doing small things for you, like making sure the proportions she prepared for you were perfect, like making sure your plate was full of the essentials; carbs, fibers, fats, all those good things.

And, at first, Sevika thought she’d made progress, made you better. But, on the day she found you in the bathroom with your wrists red was the day she assumed the worse. She thought, maybe, she’d made you feel a sort of way. Thought she’d made it worse. Thought she’d hurt your feelings and had pressured you.

She wrong about all those things.

Your girlfriend blamed herself for everything, as she tended to. You’d reassured her many times that it wasn’t her fault, that it was just the way you were born— also, false.

“Sev, I’m serious. It’s not your fault, it never was. You’re fixing something that can’t be fixed.” You’d say, sat next to her and watching as she only looked away. “Did I make you feel pressured? Or was it just me being obsessed with helping you? Be honest. I can take it.” Obsessed, huh?

“No. The things you’ve done for me are just.. too nice. You’ve helped me, Sevika, not made it worse.” She’d end up furrowing her brows. “So then, why’d you do that? Hurt yourself, I mean.” Her silver eyes would avoid your arms at an attempt to think positively. “I just.. it’s me. I’m a little frustrated at myself, it’s nothing.” Your girlfriend wouldn’t meet your eyes, let alone face you.

“Can you not?” Your tone a little less gentle. “You won’t even look at me.” Only because Sevika didn’t want to stare, make you feel uncomfortable. “All I’m asking is that you don’t look at me any differently. Please?”

It took time and patience for the woman to acknowledge your scars. She thought the subject was too tense, too awkward. But the first time she did, you ended up opening yourself to her. Letting her in on the small details she’d never thought you’d feel.

That was step one. Step two was helping you in other ways. Sevika would give you suggestions, instead of telling you what to do. Give you space and time to think by yourself. Give you advice and even be a source for you to talk about it with. All she wanted was for you to trust her, turn to her, and let her comfort you— instead of you having to look for that in other things.

Over time, Sevika had stopped avoiding confrontation; only when the topic wasn’t sensitive. She’d ask you if you felt any urges, if you’d even tried doing it again. And, slowly, you began saying no. It wasn’t a lie, no, you’d just stopped thinking about it.

And when she noticed that, your girlfriend felt a sense relief she’d never felt before. She was glad she could do something, even if it was just sharing her ideas and being your safe place.

Sevika loved you, she’d made that quite obvious in the way she stuck by your side. Never had she felt frustration, or annoyance towards you for being in the dark place you used to be in. All she felt was the need to keep you out of there, keep you in the light where you were happy and safe.

Your girlfriend would stay with you for hours if you needed her to. If you were crying she’d cry with you. If you needed her attention she’d give it to you at an instant. If you needed her to just hold you she’d do so. She’d her arms for you, kiss away your pain, and talk away your problems.

All Sevika needed was for you to be alright.

A/N: Pleaseeee please pleaseee! let me know if something I wrote was incorrect or just insensitive, I really don’t want anyone to feel a type of way when they read this; being upset or angry. I tried my hardest to write how I, personally, feel because I know a lot of people might feel the same way— relate. Hopefully I didn’t do anything wrong :(

Please reach out to someone you know and trust if you are feeling stuck and are struggling with an eating disorder or self-harm. I promise you it’ll only get worse without help and support.

[verdantwyrm]

I recently saw an anti-Curlya fanart on Twitter where the idea was that Curly would never prioritize Anya's well-being regardless of whether Jimmy was there or not. The funny thing is that afterwards the person put a disclaimer saying ""I have nothing against the ship or those who ship it, BUT....". It's funny to say that after getting a bunch of people together to talk in a passive-aggressive way about the ship, the people who like it and even about heterosexual relationships in general.

If you dislike and are bothered so much by a ship, why interact with their community? I blocked the artist but I wonder, why, dude?

Oh I'm pretty sure I saw that one too. It's a real issue especially with those people that are so completely 100% convinced that every single man is the exact same towards women or in general with casual misogyny. And it's even worse with Curly, when we see him immediately prioritise Anya once he learns about what happens, he doesn't bother her about the gun anymore and reassures her constantly that they're going to fix this together.

I think it's personally fine to not like men, a lesbian's standpoint is obvious "of course we don't like men" but unnecessarily hating them for no reason and being extremely dismissive or cruel towards isn't going fto fix the patriarchy or unrape women and at the end of the day its just extremely redundant.

You could say that Curly has moments of casual misogyny, I wouldn't, but you're allowed to say that he does. But I don't think he is an offender, nor a problem. So seeing people make him out to be just like Jimmy (or worse in some cases) is one hell of a character assassination.

People choose to interact purposefully with the things they don't like because they're inflammatory and hateful, and then going as far to say "I have nothing against the ship, but" is redundant and ridiculously fucking stupid. It's fine you don't like the ship! If you want to have a headcanon that Curly is a raging misogynistic creep, sure! whatever! Just keep it a million miles away from me and the actual canon of the story, please and thanks.

I'm not going to say that people are discriminatory or oppressive towards Heterosexual ships because thats just not true, but it starts getting a bit uncomfortable if you're one of the people that constantly complain and hate on Het ships and the people that actually ship them. That's just a really dick thing to do and makes you look like a child.

[jiraiconfessions]

you know, i really do hate everyone in this community, and i really mean that. you can sit there and try to act as unstable as you want but in reality most people here are surrounded by loving families and this is just the modern version of the 2015 edgelord emo phase. none of you do fucking anything jirai-like except sit there bitching about shit you could easily fucking fix if you put any effort into doing so.

"i cant make friends" "im so suicidal" "i just wanna cut" i dont fucking care. can you talk about literally anything else? yeah its an unstable subculture thats very true but are you like actually aware that the reason you arent making any jirai friends is because nobody wants to be around people threatening to cut 24/7? its the same in japan, i feel like some of you have this weird notion that jp jirai are all friends with each other and dancing around in lovely circles while being drunk on the streets but in actuality its just like literally any other friend groups where people fight and cry and then never see each other again. except when you fight with a friend in one of those groups theres a chance theyll fucking overdose and die in the streets without ever having a chance to fix it

youre all so fucking weird. all of you, none of you are free from this except for maybe like 2 people in the community. "i want to join the toyoko kids" "i wish there was an american version of the toyoko kids" then go outside and fucking talk to the homeless people around you, they'll hook you up with drugs and alcohol so you can run around the street like a real toyoko kid. oh, wait, but none of you will because the fact of the matter is you dont actually care about the lifestyle itself you just want to be around cute asian girls— you know its fucking true, reposting random photos of random jp jirai from twt with some shitty caption above it, acting like you fucking care. one of the biggest girls who gets posted in those memes is currently going through domestic violence and is posting about it on her twitter, and for a community that "cares" about each other ive seen literally nobody giving her any support or anything. just more shitty reposts of her photos going like "omgggg this is so me >.<" like id fucking hope it isnt you.

by the way none of you freaks wanting to be a toyoko kid could survive it. you scream and cry when theres a pedophile in your dms but if you were a toyoko kid those same people would be dictating how much money you get to spend that month. "ewww there's a pedophile in my dms" omgggg no way?? in the community commonly associated with child prostitutes theres a pedophile trying to talk to you?? who couldve seen that coming

none of you have the right to sit on a high throne and call yourself "real jirais" when the only lifestyle you fuckers engage in is being minorly mentally ill. none of you get to sit there and call people elitists when you actively look down on sex workers and people who can afford higher brands. btw if youd have done literally any research youd know that the style is indeed called "jirai kei" in japan, and not dark girly, but that point has been hammered to death on this blog so whatever.

anyway to the non fetishisers in the community i love u

TL;DR A vast majority of this community consists of people who do not understand the struggles of Japanese landmines. It gets to a point where the complaining can be insufferable, and often misses the mark entirely. There's a huge fetishism issue, and a lot of landmines on here just want to be around Asian girls. Also, it's not called "dark girly," it's called jirai kei.

(Hopefully that covers it effectively.)

Normally I'd just flat out queue things, but I'm going to post this one immediately. Anon, I don't know who the user you're talking about going through DV is, since I'm not active in those spaces, but If you're able to please do send another ask sharing her username. I would like to post anything I can to help her.

Also, I personally would like to thank you for pointing out how people look down on sex workers. I don't usually insert my own opinion but as a former sex worker myself I often feel left behind in this community. Thank you.

[flipdswitch]

To me it has that Stand/Nen Ability sweet spot, it's not awfully overpowered, maybe even a little too niche and hard to pull off, but the ability fits with the individual so well it becomes stupid strong. It's a bit like Hisoka's Bungee Gum I've had some thoughts on Batman as a concept for a while, and Super Heroes in general. All in all super heroes sometimes feel torn between the crushing desire to ditch the silly stuff and brand recognition. On one hand, Batman is a silly man wearing a bat costume and punching people while endangering children, instead of fighting crime with those billions he has. On the other hand, if you take all the silly out, what you're left with doesn't look much like Batman. Is there any point in trying to fix all the issues you see on Batman? At that point why not make your own super hero instead? Well, they kinda did. Buff middle class guy fighting with retractable vaudeville hooks does not fall under the copyright of Batman. Add "bat fanboy" and a cape, boom it's Absolute Batman now. Same with Wonder Woman. Tall and buff witch warrior wielding a BFS is not Wonder Woman, but just like Thomas Wayne says in issue #4, you can look for the core and build it another way around. I think Batman has always been on a weird spot, just by virtue of being one of the best selling heroes in DC, a crossover with Superman and Wonder Woman is inevitable. And if you take that to any place that's not wacky, Batman has to rise to the job, to the level of Superman, with only a caped skin tight costume, boomerangs and a grappling hook. Hardly well armed for his crusade against crime, let alone against aliens. While somersaulting away from lasers and pulling clutch wins is well and good, sometimes I can't help but feel he could recruit some help from the other "powerless" super heroes, and build a safer, more efficient toolkit, that would allow him to help people better for longer. So yeah, power-suits. I guess they avoid putting Batman on power-suits too much so he doesn't become Goth Iron Man, but what was missing in the Batman Power-suits all this time as an unique gimmick. Pick a power, get a good enough sci-fi excuse and put it in a suit, works like a charm. Sure the Dark Knight Returns armor was cool and had some tricks, but it hardly had anything that screamed Batman aside from the logo. Batman Beyond's suit is a little too high tech for regular Batman, but it has all the tools to take down organized crime, beat up hooligans, and even fight some super powered antagonists and aliens every once in a while. He isn't on the level of the Justice League in power, but that gap is the chance for his other qualities to shine. All well and good. And so it is that someone finally came up with a cool gimmick to give Batman, and there couldn't be anything better than the cape. He's armed to the ears, still has the belt and wears armor just as many times before, but the real stand out is the cape and the fighting style that comes with it. It reminds me a bit of Spawn, which is good if you're planning on spooking people, but it feels way faster.

It all depends on how well received Absolute Batman is. The same way The Killing Joke and Jason Todd's death and resurrection are kept as background canon events in a lot of media, even if the media in question is neither focused on Batman nor explores the consequence of these events, the cape might eventually become a staple.

Honestly it isn't even that big a change to add the lil hooks to the cape. I really hope you're right and this becomes a regular feature of Batman in a few years, same way I hope they just ditch Wonder Woman's US flag swimsuit for armor permanently.

On the topic of Absolute Batman's Cape

So like, It's kinda the perfect cape for a powerless hero.

It solves almost every "cape problem", i.e. why the fuck wear something people can grab you by and drag you by, or If it can block bullets AND fire then it's minimum 30 kilos and shouldn't blow majestically in the wind like that?

I love the Absolute cape, (it wants to be a klyntar symbiote but that's another post OR three ) It does whatever a Batman needs.

It is a perfect solution to some pretty old questions about the character.

SO...

My question is, how long until mainstream Batman permanently gets a cape with shapeshifting or nanotech into the rotation?

It WILL happen, the only question is when in the next 15 years it will prove me right.

[politicsoflove]

Why must I be afraid of or anxious about everything?

[starry-bi-sky]

i have... ✨Danyal Al Ghul Headcanons✨ but specifically for my yaelokre danyal oneshot

There's also the tumblr post here but I recommend the link in the title because its the ao3 version, and that one is edited and has some stuff in it that's not in the tumblr post, and will be the version I'm using.

So for summary: this Danyal is also from a Demon Siblings Au where Danny is five years older than Damian. However, things turned out a bit differently, and Danny and Damian had a fantastic relationship with one another. Danny loved music and regularly came up with songs to sing to Damian with. Specifically the folk band Yaelokre's EP "Hayfields" (seriously go fucking listen to it its sooo good. Harpy Hare is the second song but its my favorite. Special shoutout to @gascansposts for introducing the band to me)

He falls off a train when he's twelve and Damian is seven while the two of them and Talia are on mission. He ends up with magically induced amnesia and wakes up in Arkansas while the Fentons are on their yearly Divorce-iversary visit to Aunt Alica, and since he can only remember his name, he ends up being taken into their care.

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

Yaelokre Danny has the same facial scar as Things in Threes Danyal, since he was initially another version of him where things turned out better. I'm debating on whether or not I should take it away however, and give him a different scar (maybe from when he fell off the train?), just because the scar is a pretty key identifier for Ti3 Danyal.

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

Danny frequently visits Aunt Alicia in Arkansas! Well, only after he gets settled in and stuff. He doesn't really like the city that much and prefers the countryside where Alicia lives. I know she lives in a cabin but I'm changing it to a farm, so she puts Danny to work and gets him to help her.

I don't want to confine his hobbies to only being star stuff, because people tend to have more than one hobby and I feel like it reduces him to one-dimensionality, so he likes to garden, and learns guitar. His room becomes filled with plants, and he turns their roof into a rooftop greenhouse right below to OPS Center.

He has a complex relationship with the weapons from his past, but he's not... like... appalled by it? When he finds his weapons in the Fenton attic all he thinks is that they're his weapons, and he starts carrying a knife on him afterwards. Essentially he becomes fascinated with weaponry because its one of the few physical ties he has to his past, and while he's not training like he is in the League, he allows his strong muscle memory to guide him through his katas.

Danny likes climbing things. This causes Problems For Everyone Else.

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

Danny was not the "kinder Al Ghul" in the League. His kindness extended to his brother and family, and that's it. To everyone else he had high expectations out of them, and the pride you'd expect from the grandson of Ra's Al Ghul and trained by its top members. While he wasn't like, unnecessarily cruel or anything, he wasn't merciful either.

This transfers post-train fall as him coming off as no-nonsense and unforgiving. He's not fond of the idea of giving people second chances, and is skeptical of the idea. He's disgusted by incompetency and views it as an unforgivable offense, especially if he thinks that the person should know better, although he's not sure why. Some egocentrism for the soul.

He doesn't like being touched by anyone who isn't family, and gets irritated when anyone grabs him or holds onto him for extended amounts of time. Dash has gotten hit so many times. With Jack Fenton's tendency for abrupt physical affection, it doesn't make it any better. I'd argue it'd make it worse because Danny doesn't want to be touched more often than not.

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

Danyal had a red scarf in the League that he wore on his last mission, it came off before he fell off and caught itself on the roof. Damian still has it and took it with him to Wayne Manor. He's got it locked in his room and takes it out when he's alone and missing Danny the most. One time he forgot to put it away before leaving his room, and Dick was visiting the manor for something and found it. Damian found him holding it and freaked out.

Dick could only say "I've never seen you wear this, Damian, this is really pretty--" before Damian shoved him to the floor and stole it out of his hands, before screaming at him; "Don't touch this! You don't ever touch this! This is mine! You hear me!?"

It caused such a commotion that the rest of the family present came to see what the fuss was about, and Damian kicked them all out of his room. Dick is the one brother Damian's the closest with, so the fact he reacted so strongly shocked them all.

This is likely what leads to the "Danyal" conversation.

[illmoraineakoi]

Fic where through Rocket Corp Shenanigans and/or Orange Power Craziness, the Color Gang, TCO and Victim all get spat out into the human world, where Alan then has to reveal to his wife that surprise! Living stick figures are real, he's made living stick figures, two of them don't like him, and one of those two is actively trying to kill him, while the other five see him as their Dad.

All while trying, and just barely succeeding, in wrangling a very ferally angry Victim who is trying his hardest to inflict great bodily harm onto Alan despite Alan being literally five times his size while the others are panicking trying to figure out how to help. Except for TCO, who is just WAITING for Alan accidentally drop Victim so he can return the favor of the Box beatdown.

And Kaori, who Alan never told that his animations were based on real events and real living stick figures, is just sitting there watching this lunacy like this:

[kavehater]

I am actually so sick of my tl on twt being flooded by complaints like be so freaking for real if you hate the game just leave stop playing it I promise it’s okay

[sbd-laytall]

[francy-sketches]

Nothing lamer than a fictional character going to therapy and working through their issues in a healthy way. Bitch go kill someone

[wizardnuke]

does anyone know if we have to roll that rock up the hill again tomorrow

[atopvisenyashill]

do love how this is an asoiaf blog but i did not put either show in my top 10 this is the world we live in

[fabdante]

This is probably just the high of finishing season 2 talking, but like. Can we get whoever did Arcane to do a DMC reboot show? Maybe as a reboot of the reboot? Or at least a sequel?

Like, just. People who love and respect the source material/preboot! But can also take that and craft something good based on those source materials that kinda does its own thing! And is actually good!

Just. My kingdom for some good character writing for DMC stuff. Preboot and reboot, tbh.

I'll be honest I kinda like...idk perhaps I'm in the minority but I don't really want more extended universe dmc stuff? Like I'm firmly in the 'I don't want a DmC2' camp and I'm also not particularly jazzed about the upcoming anime. IDK like more official works on the reboot in particular for me over the years has just become something I'm not interested in. I've spent a lot of time with the material and I've put thought into how I'd like for it to be followed up and I'm just...so confident it would not at all be what I want and it'd leave me disappointed and with a lot of work that would just now feel pointless.

I do, however, realize most of the fandom hasn't been making a like 250k prequel about Kat and Vergil that's been stuck in development hell and would probably not be bothered by any of this asdfghjkl

I do think it'd be interesting to see what Fortiche could do with Devil May Cry, any of the Devil May Crys. Though I'm not sure what they'd do with it given how much less...complex it is I guess? Not that the story has to have as many moving parts as Arcane for Fortiche to do a good job but still. I do think, though, with the new Netflix anime and Fortiche focusing on their own projects and new Riot projects that them doing anything for anyone else is not very likely (very much a shame I'd have LOVED to see what they'd do with Warcraft. The story of Warcraft is so ripe to be cleaned up, fixed up, and released in a comprehensive and coherent way, like the Warcraft cinematics team are incredible themselves but I'm still pretty sure there's only a handful of them. Warcraft just has such good meat in there that I'd really love to see someone else pick up and put together)

If I were to get my dream project from Fotiche on DMC/DmC I guess what I would like is either a much more slowed down and polished soft remake of what we get with the reboot. Like a version of it that really gets to take it's time. Though it would lose a lot of it's campiness asdfghj for good or for bad. For the preboot I mean there's a lot there with the preboot if they wanted to just go through the whole brother saga. Like across the board for both preboot and reboot, given Fortiches focus on writing complex and intense family dynamics that we see in Arcane, it'd be interesting to see how that'd play out in their interpretation because at the end of the day both Devil May Cry's are about like family bonds, both born into and forged, and what loyalty we do or don't have to those bonds and legacies. I think either would definitely be a good series, in the very least.

It's a bummer though as I'm like...really not confident in the new anime and would much rather have this asdfghjk